Chapter 11
“Maddie, for Christ sake, will ye get up. Granda’s taken a turn for the worse and I need ye.”
I sit bolt upright, my eyes still heavy with sleep, but there’s no one in my bedroom, so I hurry to the window, pull the net curtain aside and look out. Jamie’s there, gesturing for me to go to him, and so I scurry to the end of the bed and snatch my jeans. I dive to the wardrobe, grabbing the first things to hand: a thin blouse and a padded jacket. I tear off my nightclothes and push my arms through the sleeves, press my feet into the fur lined boots I wore the day before, and I’m down the stairs and out onto the drive.
“What’s happened?” I ask, pulling the jacket closer when the wind tries to tear if from my body.
“I dinnae know for sure. ’Twas my turn to get up with the fold this morning, and when I returned, granda was in the kitchen, sitting in his chair, clutching his chest.”
“Have you phoned for an ambulance?”
“Aye, but they said it could be over half an hour before they get here.”
“Then we have to take him ourselves. If he’s having chest pains, we can’t wait that long for them to arrive.”
We dash over to the farmhouse and into the kitchen.
A knot of fear twists in the pit of my stomach when I see granda slumped in one of the fireside chairs. His face is deathly pale and his lips are turning blue. I rush over and crouch down beside him.
“Oh, dear God. Granda, are you okay?” He mumbles something, but I can’t quite hear him, so I move a little closer and a wheeze escapes his lips.
“We need to loosen his shirt and trousers,” I say, reaching over him.
“Do ye know what to do,” Jamie asks, and I glance up to read his expression. He’s scared, just as I am.
“No, not really,” I confess. “But I did live with a foster family once who had an elderly grandmother with a history of heart problems.”
“I’m not dead yet,” granda finally rasps.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I say, unfastening his shirt buttons and pulling open the collar. “And, I’d like you to stay that way if you don’t mind.”
He tries to laugh but breaks out into a coughing fit. I unclip the belt on his trousers.
“Calm yourself and take a deep breath,” I say. “Tell me: did the doctor say you suffered from Angina?” to which he nods.
“Och, why didn’t ye tell me?” Jamie roars. “Ye shouldnae have kept something so serious to yourself.”
I give him a hard stare. “Not now, Jamie. Just go and fetch a glass of water, please,” and I turn back to face the old man as Jamie heads over to the sink, from where I hear the gurgle of running water.
I squeeze Alasdair’s hand. “Think. Did the doctor give you a spray or something to help overcome these attacks?”
Again, granda nods, and I instinctively thrust my hand inside his trouser pockets. My fingers fight through curled up pieces of twine and round sticky objects that make me squirm. I search thoroughly, but there’s no spray.
I try to quell the panic that’s rising in the pit of my stomach by taking a deep breath.
“Where did you put it?” I ask.
“Maybe it’s by my bed?” he rasps.
“Jamie!” I say, and he rushes over, thrusts a glass of water into my hand and dashes out through the kitchen door. I hear his boots on the stairs as I offer Alasdair the water, which he guzzles down, but it feels like an eternity before Jamie returns.
He slaps a red and white bottle into the palm of my hand and I quickly read the instructions, then rip off the cap. Alasdair opens his mouth and I press two squirts under his tongue.
Alasdair lets out a long sigh.
“Does that feel better?” I ask, but when he shakes his head, my eyes fix firmly on Jamie. “I think we may need aspirin. Do you have any?”
Jamie nods. “Aye, somewhere.”
“Then find it!”
He doesn’t hesitate and rushes over to the kitchen cupboards, opening and banging shut several doors in his search of the tablets.
“Here,” he eventually says and throws a small glass bottle towards me. I catch it and unscrew the cap, taking out a white tablet.
“The spray should have worked by now,” I explain. “I’ll have to give him the aspirin, but then we must get him straight to hospital.”
When I look back at Alasdair, I can see by the colour of his skin that he’s deteriorating. “Go and bring the car around to the door,” I say, “we need to get him there immediately.”
Jamie dives out of the kitchen. My attention remains with Alasdair. “Please, take the aspirin,” I urge, and I wait for him to open his mouth again. I press the tablet onto his tongue and he sips the last of the water.
“Don’t go to sleep,” I urge. “Jamie will be back with the car at any moment.”
There’s a rustle of noise and Jamie bursts into the room.
“The car’s outside,” he tells me.
“Good. Come on, granda, let’s get you out of this chair,” and I place a hand under his arm, to support him, but in a flash, Jamie gently pushes me aside and lifts granda into his arms, as though he weighs little more than a feather.
“Get the car door open,” he says, and I nod and dash outside and pull open the back door, Jamie close behind. He gently lays Alasdair onto the back seat and I slam the door once I’ve checked he’s comfortable, then run around to the other side and climb in next to him. There’s a tartan blanket on the floor, which I quickly unfold and place across his knees and up to his chest. Once I’ve fastened my seat belt I glance across to see granda’s closed his eyes. He lets out a sigh.
“Alasdair, wake up,” I say, giving him a gentle shake. “Please, don’t go to sleep.”
Jamie hits the accelerator and the car lurches forward. He spins the vehicle around and speeds off down the drive.
“Oh, my God. I think he’s unconscious,” I rasp, and Jamie presses the accelerator even harder.
“Is he still breathing?” he asks as we hit the main road. I stare at him through the rear-view mirror. His eyes are round with fear. I lick my lips, nervously.
“Maddie, are ye listening to me?”
I unfasten my seat belt and slide closer to Alasdair. Stroking his silver hair aside, I put my ear close to his lips, but then shake my head. “It’s no use. I can’t tell over the noise of the engine,” I cry out.
“Then take his pulse,” Jamie urges.
I lift his hand out from beneath the blanket. His wrist is limp and his pulse is weak when I find it, then a sob escapes my lips. “I think we’re going to lose him,” I cry.
“No, not if I’ve anything to do with it,” Jamie affirms. “The hospital isnae far. It’s just a few minutes away.”
He takes a sharp left and zig-zags around several parked cars, the hospital gates looming up ahead and the sign for A&E. He drives over the speedbumps, the exhaust scraping across their humps, hits the brakes, snaps on the handbrake, and jumps out of the car. He heads straight for Alasdair as I get out and dash around the car to help him.
There’s an ambulance sitting empty in a nearby bay, the driver just climbing inside, and Jamie shouts, “Can someone help us, please?” The man slams the door and rushes over.
“’Tis my granda,” Jamie tells him, “he needs urgent medical attention.”
The driver checks Alasdair’s pulse, looks into his eyes, and then puts his ear to his mouth. When he looks up, the seriousness of granda’s situation is written all over his face.
“Go inside and get help,” the driver yells, and Jamie hurtles himself through the double doors.
In seconds a trolley is pushed out towards us and I hear someone shout “CRASH TEAM”, then there’s a flurry of activity as a stream of doctors and nurses dash to granda’s aid.
“Take him straight to resus,” a young Asian doctor says once granda’s secure, and he takes over the CPR as they rush the old man inside the building.
I can’t believe what’s happening as I rush in after them, tears flowing like a river down my face. I don’t know what to do, there are so many people around granda. I just stand, frozen to the spot, as the A&E department try to save Alasdair’s life. Then the trolley’s snatched from Jamie’s grasp and I watch it disappear down the corridor as the doctor shouts out vital lifesaving instructions.
“Wait,” Jamie cries, chasing after them, but a male nurse grabs him by the arm and pulls him back. “Please, try and stay calm,” he says. “Right now, he’s in the best possible hands.”
A set of double doors further down the corridor burst open and a nurse grabs the bottom of the trolley and pulls it inside. I glimpse an array of monitors and medical equipment, and I let out a sob. Then the doors close behind the trolley and I flick my gaze towards Jamie as he draws his hand to his mouth. He bites down on his fist, and for a second, I fear he’ll draw blood. I throw myself at him and grab his hand, and he turns to me and his face crumples. I fling my arms around his neck and pull him close.
“They’ll save him,” I insist, “they have to.” He slips his arms around my waist and pulls me closer still.
“I cannae lose him,” he whispers against my neck. “He’s all I have left.”
“You still have me,” I croak, and his grip tightens.
Someone coughs and my reaction is to pull away
“Excuse me, but if you wouldn’t mind helping us with the patient’s details?”
I wipe the stream of tears away from my cheeks by using the sleeve of my blouse and stare at the nurse: a man with dark hair, in his early twenties. He points to a couple of empty plastic chairs in the waiting area.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” he says, gently, and once we sit down, he goes over to the reception desk and returns with a pile of forms to fill in. I take Jamie’s hand in mine. He’s shaking from head to toe, and I tighten my grip and give him my best impression of a reassuring smile.
“I’ll have to call Callum,” I say, once the nurse finishes gathering Alasdair’s details.
Jamie nods. “Aye, you’d best do it right away.”
“I’ll nip outside and do it now.”
He nods. “Sure, and while you’re doing that, I’ll go find a coffee machine.”
We both get up together and go our separate ways. I head outside and drag my mobile from the back pocket of my jeans to see I’ve three missed calls from Callum.
I hit his number.
“Hey, Maddie, where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour.”
“Er, sorry, Callum. Something serious has happened.”
“What do you mean? Are you okay?”
I take a deep breath. “No, not really. I’m outside the local hospital. It’s granda. I think he’s suffered a heart attack.”
“He’s what?”
“It all happened so fast. He’s with the crash team now.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
I fight back my tears. “I honestly don’t know. He looked pretty sick when they took him inside.”
“Where’s Jamie?”
“He’s here. He was the one who found him slumped in his chair.”
I hear Callum suck in his breath. “Christ. Okay. I’m on my way. Just ring me if you hear something—anything.”
“Yes, I will,” and there’s a moment’s silence. “I love you,” I say, but he’s already gone.
I try and pull myself together as I go back inside. Jamie’s returned with the coffee.
“White, nae sugar,” he says as I approach. He offers me a paper cup and I take it from him.
“Has anyone been out to see you yet?” I ask.
Jamie shakes his head. “Nah, nae one.”
I go over to the receptionist to see if she can put our minds at rest.
“I’m sure someone will be out to see you as soon as they can,” she reassures me, then a nurse taps me on the shoulder and I almost jump out of my skin.
“Mrs McKinley?”
I nod profusely.
“If you would like to follow me, please.”
I find the small relatives’ room a little claustrophobic. There’s no window or natural light and the air is stale and lifeless. I leave the door ajar as I step out into the corridor. From where I’m standing, I can see around the ward and along to where Alasdair now lies in an induced coma. I’m so grateful he’s alive, but terrified he’s going to die. I can’t bear to see him lying there, so still and lifeless. He’s always been so robust, so hardworking and strongminded. To see him like this, helpless, weak and feeble, is more than I can stomach.
Long curtains hang around each of the beds. Some are pulled closed whilst others are used to separate each patient and give them a little privacy. Medical staff surround Alasdair’s bed, but no one has been able to give us any real answers. “He’s stable” the nurse had said when he came out of resus. “I hear he’s lucky to be alive,” the porter in the lift had said.
A flurry of movement catches my eye as the medical team begin to file away from his bed. The consultant is in deep discussions with two of his associates. I stare at the doctor who accompanied me and Jamie to the ward, but he simply walks on by. My gaze follows him, willing him to turn around and retrace his steps, but he carries on going, oblivious to our distress. When he disappears around a corner, I let out a disappointed sigh.
“Mr and Mrs McKinley?”
“Oh, no, I’m not—”
“Listen. You should both go home and try and get some rest.”
There’s the scrape of a chair along the floor and then Jamie’s voice fills the corridor.
“Can ye tell us how he’s doing?” he says. “Only no one’s given us any updates.”
I look at Jamie, but then flick my gaze towards the ITU nurse. Her mouth droops a little at one corner.
“I think the doctor explained to you why Mr McKinley, your grandfather, has been given a paralytic drug,” she tells him.
We both shake our heads simultaneously. “No, actually; no one did,” I say.
She lifts an eyebrow and glances down to study the paperwork in her hands.
“Well, basically, your grandfather suffered a cardiac arrest. The drug has been administered because the consultant wants his body to rest. He’s also been placed on a ventilator and the drugs will help stop any discomfort. Due to the arrest, his brain needs to recover, and so we’re doing everything we can to reduce the risk of brain damage.”
“Does that mean he may be a vegetable?” I ask.
The nurse squeezes the top of my shoulder.
“I have to be honest; there’s always a risk, but so far he’s responded well to treatment, and as long as his vital signs remain stable, we’ll be weaning him off the ventilator tomorrow morning.”
An alarm sounds. It’s one of the machines attached to another patient, and a red light flashes at the nurses’ station. The nurse spins around to check someone is dealing with it. A tall woman, wearing sensible black shoes, hurries down the corridor and over to the bed. She checks the patient’s vital signs and then calmly switches off the alarm.
The staff nurse turns her attention back to us.
“Go home,” she says. “We’ll call you if there’s any change.”
I look at Jamie for guidance and he nods. “Okay, we’ll be back in the morning.”
The nurse smiles, and for the first time I realise she’s not as old as I at first thought. “I think that’s best,” she says. “Your grandfather needs lots of rest if he’s to recover.”
“Can we just sit with him for a moment?” Jamie asks. The nurse’s frown reappears, but she stands aside to allow us to pass.
“Just a few minutes,” she says. “Then it’s home for both of you.”
She leads us to granda’s bedside. The blinds are pulled down and bright streams of sunlight seep onto the bedclothes. Alasdair’s surrounded by lifesaving equipment and he’s hooked up to a multitude of grey wires and long plastic tubes. His eyes are closed and I’ve never seen him look so pale. There’s dark-grey smudges around his eye sockets and thin blue lines across his lids. His skin is chalk white.
The ventilator makes a shushing sound as it pushes oxygen into Alasdair’s body, and he’s surrounded by temperature gauges and tall silver poles with hooks that can hold bags of either saline or blood. My eyes trail to the hospital gown Alasdair’s wearing. It seems wrong to see him dressed in something clinical. I’m used to his old battered cardigan and corduroy trousers, and I struggle not to fall apart.
There’s a small upright unit by his bed where his clothes are kept. I can see his shirt hanging inside, and his shoes are placed side by side on a shelf.
I take Jamie’s hand, surprised to find his fingers are stone cold.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s hard to believe granda’s fighting for his life,” he says. “He’s always been there for me. I just cannae imagine life without him.”
“Don’t talk like that,” I chide. “He’s a fighter, and the nurse says everything looks promising. We must stay positive.”
He spares just a millisecond to nod at me and then moves closer to granda and gently strokes the back of his hand.
“When Claire died, I couldnae eat or sleep. I was so confused, and angry with the world. It was as though I was stuck in limbo, where nothing made sense and I couldnae differentiate between reality and my own imagination. Granda saved me from myself. He was the one who held me together and stopped the grief from destroying me.”
He turns to me then, and tears are flowing silently down his cheeks.
Once again, I fling my arms around his neck and he pulls me tight as I hug him close. I don’t ever want to let him go. Words are not appropriate. Only my actions can help him now. I crush his body to mine and hope it’s enough.
I hear someone approach, but this time I don’t release Jamie. I hold onto him until his grip loosens. I feel my own tears slide down my face, and when Jamie finally pulls away, his eyes are red and swollen.
“Come back in the morning,” says a nurse with kind eyes. “We’ll know more by then.”
My boots squeak against the linoleum as I walk away, Jamie right behind me. We head past the nurses’ station and into the hospital lift. We don’t say a word to one another. There is no need.
When we push open the main doors, I embrace the cold that blows into my face. It feels refreshing against my skin. I stare over at the car, still parked at the front of the main building, and let out a sigh of relief.
“I had a horrible feeling the car may have been clamped by security in our absence,” I say.
“Or worse, towed away,” Jamie says with a sigh.
“Yes, that too.”
Jamie checks the windscreen. “Aye, and there’s no penalty notice, either.” He pulls the car keys from his jeans pocket and unlocks the door and climbs into the driver’s seat as I head over to the passenger side.
“Are you okay to drive?” I ask.
He starts the engine. “I’m fine,” and he shoves the gearstick from neutral and into first.
He drives slowly through the hospital grounds as I stare out of the window, searching along the side of the building for Alasdair’s room. Part of me doesn’t want to leave him behind.
“If he survives, it’s thanks to ye,” Jamie says as we hit the main road.
I turn towards him and shake my head. “No, Jamie, we both did our best to save him. Please don’t beat yourself up or take the blame; this was nobody’s fault.”
Jamie takes a deep breath and grabs the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. “But he suffers from Angina and he ne’er told me.”
“Again, that’s not your fault. He’s a proud man and clearly didn’t want to tell anyone.”
Jamie strikes the wheel with his fist, taking me by surprise.
“But I should’ve known,” he declares. “I should’ve seen the signs.”
“Pull over.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I said, pull over.”
Jamie steers the car onto the grass verge.
“Get out,” I say, and he looks at me as though I’ve gone stark raving mad. I open my door and clamber out onto the bank. It’s freezing, the temperature having dropped dramatically, and I pull my jacket closer to block out the icy wind.
Jamie walks around the car and stands in front of me.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” I say. “What happened to granda isn’t anyone’s fault. He’s a stubborn old mule, and blaming yourself is only going to make matters worse.”
“I cannae help it,” he says, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “We live together twenty-four-seven and yet I ne’er knew anything about his condition.”
I lean my arm against the car. “So, in future you keep an eye on him. Check he’s taking his medication.”
Jamie rests his back on the car door and stares out across the surrounding countryside. It’s bleak, and I can tell, by the tightening of Jamie’s jaw, that he still blames himself. He lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s times like this I wish I smoked,” he jokes, and for the first time the corners of my mouth lift into a smile.
“Yeah, me too,” I agree, and the tension between us melts away.
“We should be getting back,” he says. “There’s work to do and animals to feed.”
I reach out and touch the back of his hand. He places his fingers on top of mine and I suffer a delicious sexual shiver down my spine; his touch is electric.
“Jamie, why am I drawn to you? It’s like…you’re a drug I simply can’t get enough of.”
His fingers tighten around mine. “Please…don’t say another word.”
“I can’t help it,” I whisper.
“But it would only end by us hurtin’ the one person we both love.”
I drop my gaze and he lets go of my hand then climbs back into the car, and I go back to my side and get in. In silence, Jamie drives us home, and the moment we arrive outside the farmhouse, my mobile goes off.
“I’ll grab some outdoor gear from one of the sheds and catch ye later,” Jamie says.
I nod, step out of the car and press the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Keira, how lovely to hear from you.”
“Maddie, I’ve had a call from Callum. I’m so sorry to hear about granda.”
I switch the phone to my other ear and wait until Jamie heads off in the opposite direction.
“It’s been a nightmare,” I confess. “Alasdair suffered a cardiac arrest and is on a ventilator.”
I hear Keira take a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, no, how awful. Is he going to be okay?”
“We don’t know for sure. The nurses couldn’t tell us much, but they did say he’s in a stable condition for now.”
“At least that sounds positive. Callum sounded in a panic when he phoned. He asked if I was willing to hold the fort a little longer. As if he needed to ask.”
I head over to the farmhouse and open the front door. “He’d have wanted to put my mind at rest. But I know you’re always there for us.”
“That goes without saying. And the shop should be the least of your worries.”
“It is,” I admit. “I need to focus on supporting my family the best I can right now.”
“Exactly. It’s going to be a rough ride for everyone.”
“I know, and I pray he makes it through.”
“He will. He’s made of stern stuff.”
“For once, I hope you’re right.”
I hear the distinct tinkle of the shop bell in the background.
“I have to go, there’s a customer waiting,” Keira says. “Ring me, as soon as you have an update.”
“I will,” I promise, and Keira ends the call.
I look around the empty kitchen. The fire has gone out and all the warmth of the house seems to have disappeared along with Alasdair. I realise, perhaps not for the first time, how important granda is to the farm, to all of us.
I pick up an old wicker basket and go outside to where a pile of firewood is stacked high against the wall. I shiver and stare up at the sky. It’s overcast and leaden. My gaze follows a single snowflake as it lazily falls to the ground. I’m surprised when it doesn’t melt away. It’s followed by another, this one too drifting idly along on the breeze before it lands by my feet. I gather the logs into the rattan basket as a multitude of snowflakes now fall from the sky, and I’m soon back inside, closing the door against them with a shiver.
I busy myself at the hearth, lighting a fire, enjoying watching the kitchen come back to life, then I wash my hands and go over to the fridge. I take out two slices of Gammon and a couple of fresh eggs. I’m hunting around for a frying pan when I hear the front door open.
“Perfect timing,” I say, bending down to open a cupboard door and pushing a pile of old pots to one side, trying to locate the elusive pan. “I’m just about to make us something to eat.”
“Great, I’ve been on the road all day. I’m famished.”
I jump to my feet in surprise. “Callum, is that you?” and I accidently bang my elbow on the handle of the oven door. “Ouch, that hurts,” I cry out.
“Sorry? Are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I rub my arm and smile. “I’m sure I’ll live. How did you manage to get back so soon?”
“I put my foot down and thankfully the traffic wasn’t too bad. Is there any news on granda?”
I hurry over and plant a warm kiss on his lips. “The nurse says he’s stable. If he’s the same in the morning, they’ll wean him off the ventilator.”
“That sounds promising. But I need to see him for myself.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you popping in under the circumstances. They’d understand. It’s just the nurse said he needs as much rest as possible.”
Callum’s shoulders appear to sag, and I read the disappointment written all over his face.
I put my arms around him and give him a hug. “Why don’t you go to the hospital and put your mind at ease?”
“I want to. I’m scared he might die.”
I stroke the back of his hair, as though comforting a child, and then let him go. “And you’re worried that you never got the chance to say goodbye?”
He drops his gaze and I give him yet another hug.
“I understand. But have something to eat before you leave.” I go back to the fridge and pull out another slice of gammon, then reach inside a cupboard and pull out an extra tea cup.
“Where’s Jamie?” Callum asks.
I fill the kettle, put it onto the stove and switch on the gas. “I think he went to feed the horses.”
“No, I doubt that, not now snow’s falling. He’ll be bringing the fold closer to the farm.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise.”
Callum takes a step towards the hallway. “There’s an area of sheltered land closer to home, where the snow doesn’t drift. I should go and help him.”
“What about granda?”
“I’ll go once the fold has been brought to lower ground.”
I nod and switch off the gas. “Sure. Shall I come with you?”
He shakes his head. “No, there’s no need. The snow’s coming down hard. Stay indoors and keep warm.”
I smile at his thoughtfulness. “Okay, and I’ll cook as soon as you both get back.”
Callum’s phone goes off in his pocket. I can tell by the sound it’s a text message. He delves inside and pulls out his Smartphone and glances down at the screen.
“Work stuff?” I ask.
He nods and thrusts the mobile back inside his pocket. “It’s nothing that won’t wait,” and he leaves the house.
I switch on the radio and busy myself by peeling potatoes and chopping green beans and carrots. My occasional glance outside the kitchen window confirming the snow is falling thick and fast. But then I see a dark silhouetted face within the glass, one that’s not mine, but Ally’s. I desperately want to talk to Callum about her, to put this unexpected episode to bed, but granda’s our main priority right now and so it must wait.
I put the potatoes and vegetables into saucepans and leave them sitting on the stove, then go over to one of the fireside chairs and sit and wait for the men to return, but I simply can’t get Ally out of my head.
Jumping to my feet, I head over to the front door, find a pair of boots with a thick sole and put them on. I grab my coat, hat and gloves and head outside, shocked to see the trees laden with snow. I head down to the stables. At least if I get the horses fed it’ll be one less job for Jamie and Callum to worry about.
The wind has dropped, the world out here now seeming calm and peaceful, and I smile to myself. I’m almost at the stable block when the wind whips up from nowhere and carries a sound—voices. I stop to listen.
“That’s impossible.”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, but I’m telling you it’s true.”
I creep behind the stable block and closer to the main farm buildings. Turning a corner, my heart skips a beat.
Callum is standing by one of the corrugated sheds, talking to someone I can’t quite see, his body blocking my view. I take a step closer, snow crunching underfoot. Their voices rise; they’re arguing. Callum’s back is towards me and I watch his arms fly up into the air. I’m terrified of what I may overhear yet still I put one foot in front of the other. Slowly, I make my way towards him, and when I’m roughly six feet away, my stomach heaves as Callum’s white breath rises into the once more still air.
“I’m telling you, she isn’t having an affair with Jamie.”
He moves slightly to one side and my heart lurches in my chest—he’s with Ally.
“But I’ve seen the way they are together,” she says.
“I don’t care what you think you’ve seen; I know you’re just looking for an excuse to make me leave her.”
Ally shoves her hands deeper into her coat pockets and lets out a sigh.
“Either way, it’s time Maddie learned the truth.”
“Don’t make me do this,” Callum says.
“You don’t have a choice. You have to tell her.”
“You know I can’t. It will kill her.”
“But you can’t keep living a lie,” to which Callum lets out a deep sigh.
“I hear what you’re saying, but if she finds out what’s happened between us, it’ll destroy her.”
I look down at my hands, jittering of their own accord, and clench my fingers into fists to try and make them stop. I clear my throat but the wind whips away the sound. “Callum,” I then say, “what are you doing here with Ally?”
His shoulders arch, as though a cat-o-nine tails had just sliced through the skin on his back, then he seems to recover and spins around to face me. His eyes are wide, and his mouth drops open at the sight of me.
“Maddie. What are you doing here?”
I back away, no longer wishing to hear anything he has to say, but Ally takes a bold step forward and points a gloved finger in my direction.
“Callum, you need to explain everything—now.”
“I’m going back to the house,” I say, my terror rising a notch.
“Jesus, Ally,” Callum hisses. “This is not how she should learn the truth.”
“I don’t want to know,” I cry, shaking my head, hearing my own panic rising in my voice and hardly able to breathe.
He rushes towards me, but I hold my hands out to make him stop.
“Stay away from me,” I plead. “Just don’t touch me.”
“I’m so sorry, Maddie. I never meant to hurt you.”
“You’re having an affair?” I say, astonished. “How? When?” then I turn away from him, ready to run, but he lunges and grabs my arm. He pulls me so hard I whizz around to face him.
“No, it’s not like that. I’m not having an affair,” he cries.
I stare at him as though he’s told a big fat lie, but then I feel my brows furrow, and for a brief moment, a sense of relief washes over me. “But…I…don’t…”
“Tell her, and get it all out into the open,” Ally interjects, and Callum’s hands slide up to my shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Maddie, there’s no easy way to say it, so I’m just going to come straight out with it.”
I nod, like one of those dippers that can be won at the fair.
“Okay, I’m listening,” I finally whimper.
Callum takes a deep breath. “Six years ago, before we got together, I was in a long-term relationship with Ally.” His eyes shoot towards the vet and then back at me.
“As you’ve probably guessed, it didn’t work out and we went our separate ways. Ally found herself a job in Chelmsford and I relocated. We stayed in contact because we both wanted to remain friends.”
“Yet…you never told me about her. Why?”
Callum shrugs. “No reason other than I didn’t wish to mix the past with the present.”
I lick my lips. “So, what changed? Why is Ally adamant she wants you back? Do you want to be with her? Is that it?”
He lets go of me then and glances down at his feet and shakes his head, but then he looks me straight in the eye. “It’s far more complicated than that. I received a call from Ally a few weeks after you and I hooked up together. She said she needed to see me.” For a moment he hesitates, takes another deep breath.
“I lied to you. I said I had to go away on business, but the truth was…I was meeting Ally. That’s when she dropped the bombshell.”
I stare at him for the longest time. I don’t want to ask the obvious question, but my lips move without my consent.
“What bombshell?” I croak.
Callum gives me a pleading look and presses his hands to the back of his neck. “God, Maddie, I never meant any of this to happen.”
“TELL ME. WHAT BOMBSHELL?”
“That…that…Ally was pregnant with my child when we split up.”
His words hit me so hard it’s as though I’ve taken a physical blow. My eyelids flutter as I take in their full impact, feeling like I’ve just stepped off the waltzers. Everything’s spinning.
“But that’s impossible,” I rasp. “We both know you can’t…”
“Have kids? Yes. That’s true, but the irony is that I caught mumps after she fell pregnant.”
“And before you met me?”
He nods and my knees buckle, but Callum catches hold of me, stopping me from falling.
“I didn’t know what to do,” he tells me, his eyes beseeching. “We’d moved in together by the time the baby arrived and you and I had just found out we couldn’t have a child of our own. How could I admit I’d already fathered a child? Not when I was so aware of the devastating impact it would have on you.”
I’m unable to hide the desperation in my voice. “How long have you been seeing Ally behind my back?”
“Maddie, I—”
“How long, Cal?”
“On and off since she was six months pregnant.”
The muscles in my chest tighten and I swear my heart stops beating for a moment.
“So, you’ve lied to me the whole time we’ve been married?” I say in a small voice.
He nods. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“And this child…”
“A boy.”
“You have a son?” My chest tightens. “Does he look like you?”
“Please, don’t do this,” Callum begs.
“Does he have your eyes, your hair colour?”
Callum doesn’t reply. He looks down at the ground and remains tight-lipped.
I clutch my stomach and a pitiful cry escapes my lips. “How could you do this to me? And all this time you’ve made me believe you couldn’t have children—we couldn’t have children.” I take a breath. “You said you loved me, and I believed you.”
Callum looks up and his grip tightens.
“I do love you, and it’s been torture for me, too. I wanted to share my happiness, to shout out and tell the world I had a son, but the guilt’s been tearing me apart.”
I seriously can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You mean…you’re actually blaming me for the fact you kept your child a secret?” I stare at the man who has become a stranger to me. “Our whole life together was built on a lie,” and although the words are mine, they seem to have come from someone else.
“Surely, we can work something out,” Callum whispers.
I stare at him as if he’s gone stark raving mad. “You mean carry on as we are? You want Ally and I to share you? Is that it?” Anger is now rising from the pit of my stomach. I clench my fist, draw back my arm and punch Callum straight in the face. Pain shoots down my hand and along to my elbow when my knuckles connect with his jaw. His expression is one of shocked surprise, a trickle of red already oozing from the side of his mouth.
Ally lets out a wail and jumps to his aid. “Get the fuck away from him,” she screams, and dabs his lip with a scrunched-up tissue she hurriedly extracts from her pocket.
Tears pour down my cheeks seeing them together: Callum with his fingers curled around hers, Ally all over him like a rash. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I just shake my head, unable to digest the bond they clearly share, no longer able to bear to breathe the same air.
I turn and run.
All I can think about is Callum’s child, a boy running in the snow, with cute dimpled skin and a bright dazzling smile. A head of rich auburn curls bounces about his head, and when he turns to me, I see a pair of sparkling sea-green eyes. I clutch my chest at the overwhelming image, my pain leaving me breathless.
His child will never be mine.
I head back towards the farmhouse, the snow hitting my face, sharp like slivers of ice, then I’m past the garden house, my feet refusing to stop. I don’t want to go inside, not where the air is warm and the familiar rooms cosy. I no longer feel safe there and so turn on my heels. I need to be alone.
It’s growing dark. There are no birds in the sky, and even the chickens have fallen quiet. All I hear is the crunch of the snow under my boots as I make my way towards the gate that leads to the brae.
One of the farm dogs barks as I lift the latch.
“Maddie? Where are you?” Callum calls through the darkening and white-flecked swirling air, but I ignore him, a notch of fear rising within me at the thought of him chasing after me. I glance down. The frozen earth is white now, my tracks easy for him to follow, but I push on into the faster falling snow, seeing almost nothing before me but streaks of white against the deepening blackness. I’m running now, fast in my flight, until my foot jars and I stumble over a hidden stone. I lose my balance and fall to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through my knee. I peer down to see I’ve grazed it, and I cover my mouth to smother a hiss of pain. Then I force myself back onto my feet, wipe a stream of snowflakes from my eyes and hurry down a path I vaguely recognise. Everything’s covered in a blanket of white and the bitter cold is seeping through to my bones.
I head for a row of trees that I know will take me to the woodland. Covered in snow, they look majestic, reminding me of a picture I once saw on a Christmas card; all that’s missing is a light dusting of glitter. It feels warmer here, protected by the trees, but still I stumble over invisible clods of earth and decaying branches.
Leaning back against a thick tree trunk I catch my breath, recognising nothing around me. The trees appear the same in all directions.
A gust of wind knocks snow off one of the branches, but there’s other movement between the trees and my heart lurches in my chest. I catch sight of a figure in the distance and hold my breath, unsure whether it’s Callum or a deer. With my breath back in me, I dash off in the opposite direction, hastening between light snow drifts and frozen undergrowth, and finally I manage to get away. Out of breath once more, I slump down near a large boulder and gulp in the freezing air, sharp within my throat. Something’s above my head and I fend it off with my hand, touching nothing more than a frost encrusted low-lying branch. I’m cold, and sit as still as the night, listening to the sounds of the woodland.
A twig snaps and I take off again, like a startled deer, away from the sound, deeper into the darkness, no longer able to see where I’m going. Panicking at another sharp sound behind, I flay my arms out in front of me and let out a scream as I glance back over my shoulder.
The ground underfoot dips unexpectedly beneath my feet, and I turn sharply, only to suffer an almighty thwack against my forehead. Glittering silver stars fill my vision as I feel myself go light for a moment, before I thud painfully into the deepening snow, finally lying there, dazed. As I shakily reach up and touch my head, the stars fizzle ever brighter and more densely before my sight, until I sink through them into the depths of an utter darkness.