‘She’s been admitted to – ’
‘Admitted?’ he shouted, and Rosie’s head popped up from her perusal of his wallet, her little face clouded with worry. He forced a reassuring smile at her, but she frowned.
‘Be gentle to Millie,’ Rosie told him firmly before turning away. He took a deep breath to get himself under control.
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, noting that Dr Morrison had now put a chair between them, and that the knuckles of her hands that were clutching the leather had turned white. ‘Please, would you mind telling me what happened?’
Dr Morrison was focusing on his shoulder, and the corner of one of her eyes was twitching. ‘I don’t know if – ’
‘Please, Millie,’ he entreated, using Dr Morrison’s Christian name for the first time in his recollection. ‘Please tell me what’s going on. Idocare about her.’
She looked down at the floor for a moment before her eyes went back to his shoulder and she sighed.
Chapter 23
Notthatself-sacrificing
‘All I’m saying, love, is this wouldn’t happen if you didn’t run yourself into the ground.’
Libby closed her eyes, feeling the deep dragging pain in her right side every time she took a breath – one of her coughing fits had torn an intercostal muscle. The pain of that, combined with the irritation of the lining of her lung from the pneumonia, was bearable when she was just breathing normally, but when she coughed it was horrific.
‘Dad,’ she said, hating that her voice was so weak, wanting to be strong for her parents, but failing yet again. She pulled her oxygen mask down so they could hear what she needed to say. ‘I have to work. You know that. This is … just a setback.’
‘Setback?’ Martin Penny’s face was turning red and his fists had bunched at his sides. He towered over her bed, his greying hair standing on end from the number of times he’d run his hands through it with worry. ‘My baby girl lying in a hospital bed with pneumonia is not just a ruddysetback. You know you have to look after yourself with your asthma. That’s what all that fitness was about when you were a youngster. All the dancing and the gym. I can’t believe you didn’t even have an inhaler with you.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Martin, calm down.’ Libby’s mum glared at her husband across the bed. Her bright red lips pressed together in a thin line. There was no situation that Rita Penny was without her lipstick – visiting her sick daughter in hospital being no exception. She’d always been disappointed in Libby’s lack of enthusiasm for cosmetics; she once said she’d rather go out without knickers on than miss her coating of Very Berry. Libby had no doubt that her dad would be on the receiving end of a swift kick in the shin had their incapacitated daughter not been separating them.
‘Listen, woman,’ Martin snapped, and Libby rolled her eyes to look up at the ceiling: her mother was about to blow. Her husband calling her ‘woman’ was Rita Penny’s nuclear trigger. She might have been a good foot shorter than him but there was no doubt who wore the trousers in their marriage. It was an indication of how stressed her dad was that he would be willing to go head to head with his wife. ‘I’ll calm down whenyour daughteragrees to stop this bloody cocktail-making business and start taking care of herself.’
‘Dad, I have to – ’
‘I can support you and Rosie. I’ll get extra work. No problem.’ He wasn’t as thin as he’d been at the worst of his depression but he still wasn’t back to the dad she knew. Maybe he never would be. But over the last two years the shadows under his eyes had lightened, and he’d started smiling again. The last thing Libby wanted was to hinder his recovery.
‘Daddy,’ she whispered, reaching out to enclose one of his fists with her hand. ‘We both know you can’t do that.’ Martin flinched and looked away from her and Libby felt the all too familiar guilt. This situation made her dad, her strong, proud, hard as nails dad, feel weak. The fact that he couldn’t support his daughter and granddaughter was tough for him to take. He had always provided for his family, but Libby, through her stupid mistake at seventeen, had taken that pride away from him.
‘Right,’ said Rita, ‘enough of this nonsense. We can talk about Libby giving up thebar-tendingwhen she’s better.’ Her parents exchanged a significant look, which Libby didn’t quite understand. ‘For now we need to go and get our grandchild and take her back to your flat, Libby.’
Libby closed her eyes again and blew out a breath. The sofa bed in her flat had long since given up folding out. She had taken to dragging the cushions off it and sleeping on the floor. Rosie’s room had a tiny single bed in it that definitely wouldn’t accommodate her dad’s large frame. Her parents’ house was too far from the hospital and they’d rented it on Airbnb so they could afford to visit Libby’s aunt in Cornwall for the week.
‘Mummy?’ Everyone turned towards Rosie’s small voice across the side room. Libby’s mouth fell open when she saw who was holding Rosie’s hand.
‘You!’ Kira burst in behind Jamie and Rosie and poked Jamie in the chest. ‘What are you doing here? I’ve just run all the way from a Rosie-less x-ray department afteryoukidnapped her!’
Rosie, ignoring the adult drama, broke away from Jamie, ran to the side of the bed and scrambled up to snuggle into Libby’s neck.
‘Hey, Little Louse,’ Libby muttered into Rosie’s soft curls, bringing her hand, complete with cannula and drip attachments, up to pull the little body into hers.
‘Mummy?’ Rosie’s voice was smaller than Libby had ever heard it. ‘You look weird.’ Libby blinked back tears. Rosie’s voice was shaking now. Libby could just imagine what she must look like hooked up to drips, an oxygen mask on her face. To her frustration, when she tried to answer her throat closed over and she couldn’t get the words out.
‘I told you, sweetheart,’ Jamie’s voice came from her side and Libby looked over Rosie’s head to see him leaning right over them both, pushing some curls away from her face, ‘they’re making Mummy better. All these bits and bobs are giving her medicine.’ Rosie shifted across so she was facing Jamie, making Libby wince in pain as she pressed down on her ribs. When she looked up again Jamie was watching her closely.
‘Come here, Little Louse,’ he said softly, slipping his arms underneath Rosie and trying to lift her up. Rosie clung on to her mum. ‘We’ve got to give her space to recharge now.’ Slowly Rosie let go of Libby’s neck and let Jamie lift her up to hold her against him. The release of weight from Libby’s chest enabled her to take a much-needed breath.
‘Russell got sick and now he won’t uncurl,’ Libby heard Rosie whisper, and felt her chest constrict. ‘Mummy had to bury him outside in Mrs Stricklen’s daffodils.’ The woodlouse turnover in their flat was, unfortunately, fairly high.
‘Your mum’s going to be fine. From now on you’re both going to be justfine.’ Jamie’s voice was firm. Libby saw his eyes flash and his jaw clench tight.
