Before I Saw You(77)

How wonderful: the perfect cover-up, neatly wrapped and handed to him on a plate.

‘Yeah, totally, it’s all just a little overwhelming.’

‘Of course it is. But don’t worry; we’ve already started thinking about things so that you don’t have to. The morning they discharge you, we will come and pick you up in the car and take you to our house. You can stay there for as long as you want. We’ve already done the checks on your flat to see if it’s suitable for you, and everything looks perfectly fine. I’ve phoned the school and told them you’re being discharged – oh, they were so pleased! It sounds like you’ve been missed terribly.’

All Alfie could do was smile and nod while trying not to scream at the absurdity of the situation.

I don’t care about any of this. I just need to know if she’s OK.

Thankfully Robert was a bit more tuned in to Alfie’s mood and could sense he needed some room to breathe. ‘Come on, love, why don’t we hand these flapjacks round? I’m sure people are dying for a sugar hit!’

‘Great idea. Alfie, sweetie, we won’t be long.’ Just before she disappeared, she placed a couple on his bedside table. ‘In case you get peckish later, hey?’

How incredibly generous this woman was and how incredibly guilty he felt about wanting her gone. A part of him had hoped their presence would be a welcome distraction, but instead their small talk and fussing left him feeling even more stifled than being alone with his thoughts. As he lay there staring at the curtain, he felt a deep urge to pull it back and take a peek into Alice’s space next to him. Before he knew it, the fabric was between his fingers, ready for the reveal. How would it feel to finally see her space? See where she slept, where she dreamed and cried and laughed. Just as he was about to do it, his stomach lurched. Something was stopping him in his tracks.

He’d made a promise, and even seeing this piece of her felt like a betrayal.

‘Oh, I am going to miss those nurses when you leave, Alfie. They really are a godsend.’

He dropped the curtain immediately and prayed that guilt hadn’t written itself all over his face. Jane Mack was a social creature, and she returned over an hour later with empty tins and heaps of gossip to share. Her eyes darted to the two untouched flapjacks by his bedside. ‘Honey, you really must be tired, you haven’t even sniffed at those! How about we leave you to get some rest? You really do look exhausted.’

‘Sure.’ He wasn’t about to argue with that.

‘Robert and I will be back to collect you soon. Nurse Angles said the assessment will be in the next day or two, so don’t worry about packing your things; we can sort it when we get here. Can you believe my baby is coming home!’ She planted a kiss on the top of his head.

Alfie barely managed to construct a half-smile. This mask of his was getting harder and harder to put on.





59


Alfie





Alfie Mack was never very good at saying goodbye. He didn’t like the act of going, and more than that he couldn’t bear the thought of people leaving him. He struggled to say goodbye to his classes at the end of each term. He found it hard to say goodbye to his mum and dad after dinner every Sunday. Now, here he was, staring straight into the reality that he was about to say goodbye to the place and people who had saved his life.

The doctor had come during the morning rounds and delivered the news. It was formal and mechanical, a routine discharge, probably one of thousands this doctor had done over her lifetime. But to Alfie it was life-changing.

‘Based on our review of your notes and assessments, we have deemed you fit to go. You’ll be able to leave as soon as the paperwork has been written up and signed. Do you need me to call your family?’ She’d barely even looked at him.

‘No thank you, doctor. My mum is on standby anyway, so I’m sure she’ll be calling any minute to check how I’m doing.’

Jesus, how old are you? Three?

‘Right.’ Her smile had pity written all over it. ‘Well, any problems, you know where we are.’

And that was that. It was officially time for Alfie to go home, and yet after nearly three long months he was desperate to stay.

For the rest of the morning, all he’d been able to do was lie on his bed in silence. He didn’t feel the usual pressure to play entertainer, nor the guilt of being quiet. All Alfie wanted was to try and absorb as much as he could of this strange little bubble for as long as possible. Could he commit the sterile smell of the ward to memory? Could he imprint the pastel-coloured walls on to the back of his eyelids so that whenever he needed to take himself back here, all he would need to do was close his eyes? How could he capture the sounds of hospital life eternally inside his head? Everything that had once seemed so harsh and abnormal now felt as integral as the beating of his heart.

‘Alfie!’ His stupor was broken instantly by Ruby’s cry as she ran on to the ward.

‘Hey, you! How was Grandma and Grandpa’s today?’ He loved the chaos this kid brought with her every time she came to visit. She was a bundle of noise and energy that catapulted through the beige ward like a firecracker.

‘Mum told me you’re leaving today.’ Ruby stood at the end of his bed, wide-legged, hands on hips and with an almighty scowl on her face.

‘That’s right, kid. I’m off.’ He held out his hand to her.