‘Olivia Taylor,’ William sighs, humour starting to dilute his annoyance. ‘You never fail to disappoint.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I swing to face him, finding a mild smile on his handsome face. I know exactly what he means, and he said it to draw a reaction, to snap me from my moody silence. He’s succeeded. Now I’m still moody, but I’m far from silent. ‘Ted, could you pull over, please?’
William shakes his head and doesn’t bother to voice his counter-command to his driver. He doesn’t need to. Ted’s clearly not as brave as me . . . or, most definitely, has more respect for William Anderson. I look to the mirror and see that smile again. It seems to be a permanent fixture on his face.
‘Why’s he always so happy?’ I ask as I return my eyes to William, genuinely interested.
He’s regarding me thoughtfully, his fingers drumming the door where his arm is resting. ‘I think perhaps you might remind him of someone.’ He speaks quietly, almost cautiously, and I recoil in my chair when I register what he means. Ted knew my mother? I frown, thinking hard. Should I ask? I open my mouth to speak, but it snaps closed just as quick. Would I even want to see her if it turns out she is alive? My answer comes to me quickly with hardly any thought behind my reasoning. I don’t question it.
No. I wouldn’t.
The hospital is hot and stuffy, yet my feet still move fast down the corridor, keen to get to Nan. William is pacing steadily beside me, his long legs seeming to keep up easily. ‘Your friend,’ he says, out of the blue, making my steps falter. My mind falters, too. I don’t know why. I know who he’s talking about. ‘Gregory,’ he clarifies, as if he is in any doubt of who I think he is referring to.
My stride catches up again and I keep my focus forward. ‘What about him?’
‘Nice chap.’
My forehead wrinkles at his observation. Gregory is a very nice chap, but I sense William isn’t simply intending on heading down a road of flattery. ‘He is a very nice chap.’
‘Ambitious, smart . . .’
‘Wait!’ I skid to a halt and throw disbelieving eyes at William. Then I laugh. Uncontrollably. I’m in pieces. The distinguished, suited man is rendered speechless and wide-eyed as I fall all over the hospital corridor, tittering to myself. ‘Oh God!’ I chuckle, wiping under a leaking eye as I glance up at William. He’s looking around us, clearly uncomfortable. ‘Nice try, William.’ I march on my way, leaving William tentatively following behind. He really is desperate. ‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ I call over my shoulder, ‘but Gregory is gay.’
‘He is?’ His stunned reply makes me turn on a smile, keen to see the formidable William Anderson’s surprise. Not much fazes him. But this has, and I’m rolling in the delight it has brought me.
‘Yes, he is, so you can save your breath.’ I should be fuming at his continued efforts to put me off Miller, but my enjoyment won’t allow it. Miller, however, won’t take it too kindly if he gets wind of William’s relentless interfering.
Leaving William to regain his composure, I rush into the ward, heading straight to the bay where I know Nan to be. ‘Good morning!’ I chirp, finding her sitting in her chair, adorned in a floral dress, her hair styled perfectly. There’s a tray on her lap and she’s poking at what looks like an egg sandwich.
Unimpressed old navy eyes beat down my breeziness in a flash. ‘Is it?’ she grumbles, sliding the tray onto the table.
My heart sinks as I take a seat on the edge of her bed. ‘You’re in the best place, Nan.’
‘Pfft!’ she sulks, brushing her perfect curls off her face. ‘Yes, if I were dead, but I’m perfectly well!’
Not wanting to be condescending, I force my eyes not to roll. ‘They wouldn’t keep you here if they thought you were perfectly well.’
‘Do I look like that?’ She swings an arm out and points her wrinkled finger to the old dear in the opposite bed. My lips straighten, not knowing what to say. No, she looks nothing like the poor woman who’s dozing across the way, her mouth dropped open. She really does look dead. ‘Enid!’ Nan hollers, making me jump. ‘Enid, dear, this is my granddaughter. Remember I told you?’
‘Nan, she’s sleeping!’ I hiss, just as William rounds the corner. He has a grin on his face, no doubt after hearing the spunky Josephine causing havoc.
‘She’s not sleeping,’ Nan argues. ‘Enid!’
I shake my head and look to William again with pleading eyes, but he just maintains that amused smile, shrugging his shoulders. Both of us cast a sideways glance when coughing and spluttering emanates from Enid’s direction, and I find her heavy eyes looking around, bewildered.
‘Yoo-hoo! Over here!’ Nan waves a deranged arm in the air. ‘Put your glasses on, dear. They’re on your lap.’
Enid pats around on the covers for a few moments, then slips her glasses on. A gummy grin materialises on her pasty face. ‘Sweet thing,’ she croaks, before her head falls back, her eyes close, and her mouth drops open again.
I make to stand, alarmed. ‘Is she OK?’
William chuckles and joins me on the bed in front of Nan. ‘It’s her medication. She’s fine.’
‘No,’ Nan jumps in. ‘I’m fine. She’s on her way to the pearly gates. When are they releasing me?’
‘Tomorrow, or maybe Friday, if the consultant agrees,’ William tells her, bringing a hopeful smile to her face. ‘If the consultant agrees,’ he reinforces with a certain look of knowing.
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