Broken (29 page)

“You mean…like sectioned? He’s not a basketcase for Christ’s sake.”

“He’s mentally ill, Theo. His mind is in a bad place. The likelihood is he’s going to be disappointed he didn’t succeed and if he’s released he could try again. He needs specialist help, and you need to prepare yourself for the fact it could take a
long
time.”

Disappointed? Try again?
“No.” I shake my head. “It was a mistake. When he wakes up he’ll realise that. He just wants help. It was a flash of despair. Maybe he’d been drinking and didn’t know what he was doing.”

“There was no alcohol in his system.”

“He wants to get better. I know he does,” I carry on, ignoring Tom.

“This isn’t about you, Theo.”

“I know that!” I yell. “Do you think I’m that self ab-fucking-sorbed?”

Tom sighs, his lips melting into a concerned frown. “What I mean is this has nothing to do with his feelings for you. This isn’t because he doesn’t care about you, or because he thinks you don’t care about him. You haven’t caused this.”

“I-I know that.” The words don’t sound as convincing as I’d hoped when they leave my lips.

“You need some rest. Do you want to stay at mine tonight?”

“No, I, uh…”
I need my mum
. “Can you take me to Mum’s?”

Tom pats my knee and then twists the key in the ignition. “Sure.”

Raw emotion bubbles in my chest when we pull into my mum’s driveway. I know the pressure will burst the second I see her, but she always knows how to comfort me, what to advise.

“Does she know what’s happened?”

Tom nods. “I called her while you were sleeping. I called Tess, too.”

I must call Tess as well.
“Will you pick me up in the morning? I understand if you’re busy.”

“I’m working early because I missed my shift tonight, but I’ll leave the house early. I can take you home or you can ride in with me and wait in the staffroom until visiting time.”

“Thanks,” I say, opening the car door. “For everything.”

“If you need me, whatever the time, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Thanks, Tom.”

Stepping up to my mum’s front door, I fumble in my pocket for my keys, stopping when it starts to open in front of me. Standing to one side, my mum lets me in before closing the door and wrapping her arms around me, cradling my head to her shoulder.

“I’m so scared, Mum,” I whimper, letting my tears soak into her shirt.

With her flattened hand, she rubs small circles on my back. “It’s okay, baby boy. Everything’s going to be okay.”

For the next few minutes, my body shaking, all the pain, fear, guilt, and sadness pours out of me in violent sobs. I don’t move an inch, clutching my mum so tightly my fingers start to ache as I fall apart in her arms.

Stay with me, James.

**********

The next day I get Tom to take me home so I can change and update Tess. I’ve yet to speak to her and, after Tom’s call last night, she must be worried sick. Heart in my throat, I ring Max on the way. There’s been no change in James’ condition overnight and I don’t know whether that’s good or bad.

“It’s good,” Tom assures me, and I believe him because I
have
to.

Back in my flat, I end up crying again the moment I see Tess. Through the haze of tears I don’t notice Lucy sitting on the new sofa until I’ve relayed the last twenty-four hours to Tess. “Oh…hi,” I mumble, my gaze lingering on that damn sofa. The sight of it gives me a heavy feeling in my stomach. Maybe if I hadn’t brought it up, started the argument in James’ office, he wouldn’t have broken down, he wouldn’t have tried to k…

I can’t even think the words.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” I say, embarrassment from crying in front of someone I barely know heating my cheeks. That adds even more weight to the chain of guilt hanging from my neck. I hardly know Lucy and I
should
. She’s important to Tess, Tess is important to
me
, and I haven’t made enough effort.

How the hell did my life get to the point where I just keep screwing everything up?

Staring into the mirror after my shower, I still look like shit. My eyes are so dark and swollen I can’t help wonder if they’ll ever look normal again. I don’t want to look at myself anymore so I dress quickly, brush my teeth, and then call work. Mike rang several times yesterday after I failed to return, and again this morning, but I don’t have enough energy left in me to deal with him so I dial Stacey’s extension instead.

I’m purposely vague, explaining that James has had an accident and I need to take a few days to be with him. There’s a wariness in Stacey’s voice that makes me think she doesn’t quite believe me but that’s the least of my problems right now so ignore it. I don’t know what James will want people to know and it’s not my decision to make. I also don’t know what’s going to happen ‘at the top’ of Holden House. James has a silent business partner and other higher management members that I’ve never met, but I assume Max is dealing with those.

“Lucy’s nice,” I say to Tess as I tie the laces on my shoes. “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten to know her properly yet.”

Tess smiles, and for a moment she looks lost in her own little world. “You know that ‘click’ you told me about when you started seeing James? The one that makes no sense, it’s just…there? I felt that click. We just
get
each other, you know? I think…” she trails off, lowering her voice, presumably in case Lucy can hear us from the bathroom. “I think I love her.”

Knowing how that feels, I smile. “I’m happy for you.” And when James is better, because he
will
get better, I will get to know Lucy like I should’ve done already.

“Do you want me to come with you to the hospital?”

“No need. I’ll probably have to hang around until visiting hours. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Well if you change your mind, I’ll be on the first bus over there.”

“Thanks,” I say, forcing a weak smile. “My taxi should be here any minute. I’ll go wait outside.”

“Do you want me to arrange for your car to be picked up from the cemetery?”

“Thanks, but Tom said he’ll sort it.”

When I stand from the sofa, she throws her arms around me. “I love you, T.”

“Love you too, gorgeous,” I whisper, fighting the urge to cry…again.

Drawing a deep breath, I head out of the flat to spend another day, flooded with worry, uncertainty, and hope, by James’ side.

**********

Day two: No change. I sit with James, alongside Max with Tom popping in whenever he can, for as long as the nurses will let me. At night, I don’t sleep, my brain forcing me to relive everything that’s happened over and over until it’s time to get up and do it all again.

Day three: No change. I’m living in déjà vu hell as the day pans out exactly the same as the last.

Come on, James. Wake up for me.

Day four: Today, the doctor with the jazzy stethoscope attempts to wean James off his ventilator. It’s unsuccessful, and the day remains the same as the previous two.

Day five: No change.

Day six: “Hello?” I answer Max’s call in a panic, abandoning the task of making toast that I’ll nibble at until I throw it in the bin.

“James is awake. The hospital just called.”

When I exhale, it feels like fifty tonnes of pain pours out of my body. “Oh thank God.”

“We can’t see him just yet, but they’ll let us in before visiting time. I’m going over now. Do you want a lift?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Yes. Please. Thank you.”
Oh God thank you.

“I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Thank you.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you.

After hanging up on Max, I call Tom. It goes straight to voicemail, he must be at work already, so I leave a message before ringing my mum, then Tess.

I’m already outside, my feet tapping anxiously against the pavement, when Max’s car pulls up. I get in quickly, and he sets off again before I’ve even finished fixing my seatbelt. The drive seems to take forever, every traffic light working against us, and when we arrive we head straight up to the waiting room outside the ICU.

We’ve been waiting for almost an hour when Tom turns up, dressed in his scrubs. “Any news?” he asks.

Sighing, I shake my head.

“Let me see what I can find out.”

Both Max and I stare after Tom as he walks away. He disappears into a room marked ‘Staff Only’ and returns after several minutes that feel like hours, with another doctor.

“You can go through,” the other doctor, an older man with salt and pepper hair and an out-dated moustache, says. “I’ll join you in a few minutes to discuss any questions you might have.”

Nodding, Max turns straight to the door of James’ ward.

I start to follow, but I’m stopped by Tom’s hand appearing on my chest. “I’m so sorry, Theo. He’s not ready to see you just yet.”

“What do you mean?” I argue, attempting to step past him. “The doctor just said…”

“He was talking to Max. James doesn’t want to see you. His care team have to respect that.”

“He…doesn’t
want
to? Why? What…what have I done?”

“He’s recovering from a major trauma. Physically
and
mentally. He just needs some time.”

I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. “But
why
? How much time?” This doesn’t make sense. “If you just let me see him, he’ll change his mind, I know he will.”

“I can’t let you do that. I’m sorry, T, really I am. You’re going to have to be patient.”

Patient? Time? How am I supposed to do that when I’m going out of my fucking mind?

“You should go home,” Tom adds. “I’ll keep checking in here and keep you updated.”

“No,” I spit. “I’ll wait.”

“Remember what I said about the long road ahead? He’s in a bad place right now. He might not change his mind today.”

“Then I’ll come back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. Whenever he changes his mind, because he
will
, he
has
to, I’ll be here. I’m staying.”

Tom’s hand settles on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “I need to get back downstairs, but I’ll come back when I get a minute. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

And so, I spend the rest of the day pacing the corridor, drinking disgusting vending machine coffee and feeling utterly fucking useless until Max reappears at kicking out time. He gives me a ride home, sounding almost guilty as he fills me in on James’ progress. Apparently, James spent most of the day refusing to talk, rejecting his meds, and sleeping.

I want to see him so desperately. His refusal hurts. The worry and confusion are suffocating. Is he ashamed? Does he blame me? Is he pushing me away for his sake or mine? These are merely a fraction of the questions that race around my mind on a loop throughout the night, and when morning rolls around, I snuggle with Tess for a while before getting myself ready for another day pacing corridors.

Day seven: James’ physical condition continues to improve. He still won’t see me.

Day eight: James has two psychiatric assessments carried out by two different doctors. His blood pressure started fluctuating during the night, but by the afternoon they manage to stabilise it again. He still won’t see me.

Day nine: His doctor puts in a request for a bed at the psychiatric unit. Since this news was broken to him, he hasn’t spoken a single word to anyone. He still won’t see me.

Day ten: As usual, I’m standing outside the ICU when Max tells me James is being transferred today.

“Will he see me before he leaves?” I ask, my voice weak with exhaustion.

Max shakes his head, looking anywhere but at me. “Maybe when he’s settled in.” He sounds as hopeless as I feel.

“Maybe.”

“You should go home for now. I’ll call you once he’s at the unit.”

He doesn’t say it directly, but I know he’s suggesting I leave so I don’t see James on his way out. I don’t have the strength to argue. I’m all out of fight. “Sure. Let him know…just tell him I love him.”

Max smiles. It’s a sad, sympathetic, smile, but I appreciate it nonetheless. “Will do.”

Head bowed, I leave the hospital. I’m not sure why it pops into my head, maybe because James is about to take another step closer to home, but his apartment suddenly becomes all I can think about. I don’t think anyone’s been since it happened, Max hasn’t mentioned it, and it needs cleaning. Part of me thinks it could destroy me going back there, but the other needs something to focus on. I need to keep busy. I can’t handle another day of sitting, pacing,
waiting
.

I’m on the bus, thankful to have a seat to myself, when Tess calls. I automatically note the time on the screen when her name flashes up and assume she’s on her lunch break. “Hey,” I answer.