My disappointment is all-consuming, and I scowl down at the phone in anger.
I sigh and debate on not bothering to answer it; it’s likely one of those accident firms.
Hello, we’ve been told you were recently involved in an accident. Is that right?
But the trouble is, I’m lonely. It’s a Friday night, and I’m sitting in my pyjamas, eating Ben & Jerry’s straight from the tub, watching reruns of 90 Day Fiancé: The Other Way, and trying to justify how my life could be worse because at least it’s not as messed up as some of these people on the show!
So, I answer the call, expecting an automated voice.
Instead, I’m greeted by the sounds of someone crying—hysterical crying at that.
“Hello?” I frown.
“Amy? Amy, it’s Deborah.”
The name means nothing to me for a split second, and then I blink in understanding. Jared’s mother. Dread settles over me, and I feel my body go cold.
“Deborah? Is everything okay?”
“There’s been an accident!”
My mouth goes dry. “What? When? Who?” My hand flies up to my chest as horror builds within it. Everything stops as I wait for her to speak.
“Both of them!”
twenty.seven
“What?” My eyes widen, and I jump to my feet. “What’s happened, Deborah, please?”
“I don’t know!” she wails down the line. “I just got a call from a nurse at the hospital. I’m listed in Theo’s phone as the emergency contact. It’s both of them. Both!” She’s crying so much that I can hardly make out her words.
I swallow my horror, my body going cold at her words and the sound of her distress.
“Are they okay?” My grip on the phone is so tight that my hand aches.
I hold my breath and wait for her reply, but it doesn’t come. Instead, there’s jostling and crackling on the line, and a new voice comes on.
“Amy, it’s Kenneth.”
Panic is beginning to consume me. “Kenneth, what’s happened? I don’t understand. What kind of accident?” My heart is racing in my chest.
“Deborah just received a phone call. There’s been a car accident. Both the boys were in the car. One has a broken leg and some other injuries but is relatively stable.”
He stops talking, and I can hear Deborah’s wails grow louder in the background.
“And the other?” I prompt desperately.
“The other one has head injuries and some internal bleeding. They’ve had to rush him into surgery.”
Oh God, no. Please, no.
Surgery. My legs give out at the word, and I drop onto the sofa, putting my head in my shaky hand. “Which?” I croak, unable to form a full sentence. My brain hurts, and my stomach clenches as I wait for him to answer. My mind is still messed up, my feelings for them both so tangled that I don’t know what I want him to say.
“We don’t know which is which. They were on their way back from the gym, so both had workout gear on and their wallets in their gym bags. Because they had no ID on them, they don’t know which wallet or bag belongs to which one.”
Kenneth clears his throat. “Amy, I need you to go to the hospital. Can you do that for me? We’re on our way there now, but we’ve been away, visiting family, and we’re still an hour out at least. I need you to go there and see if you can tell which one is which. The doctors want to know. Please? Amy, can you …”
“Yes,” I whisper my reply. I’m already on my feet, grabbing my handbag and keys, slipping my shoes on.
“Thank you! Thank you, Amy! They’re at Addenbrooke’s. Go to A and E department. Can you let us know? I’ll be driving, but if you could, call Deborah as soon as you know anything.”
“The one in surgery, is he going to be okay?” I ask, squeezing my eyes shut as I wait for him to answer. Abject terror is building like a storm inside me.
“We don’t know. They told us to hurry and that it was serious,” he answers.
His words feel like they’re killing me.
Serious. How serious? Is one of them going to die? Which one?
I nod and say my good-byes, running out of my flat so fast that the door bangs shut and flies open again.
“Shit! Come on!” I hiss, grabbing for it and yanking it closed again before thrusting my key in the lock and angrily twisting it.
I turn and bolt for the stairs, taking them three at a time, almost face-planting as I get to the bottom where my body is going too fast for my legs.
I fumble with my keys again, finding the one that fits the communal storage cupboard at the bottom of the stairs. After wasting precious seconds attempting to get my key in the lock with my hands shaking like jelly, it finally opens, and I wrench out Bessy, throwing my leg over her and pushing away from the wall in one smooth movement. My panic is taking over, I’m losing it, my brain is spinning so fast that it’s making me feel dizzy, but I have to hold it together. All that matters is getting to the hospital. Jared and Theo are hurt, one of them seriously so, and I need to get there.
As I join the road, my mind not really on the task at hand but more on the two men in hospital, a car horn blasts behind me, and then it overtakes me, the guy opening his window to flip me the bird. I wobble precariously and wave an apology, pushing my legs faster on the pedals, wishing I had a car.
The hospital is a good fifteen-minute bike ride away, but I make it in nine. By the time I arrive, I’m sweating, exhausted, and gasping for breath. Tears are streaming down my face, and at some point on the manic ride over here, I’ve realised I’m in my Winnie the Pooh pyjamas and am not wearing a bra. But none of that matters as I jump off my bike, unceremoniously dumping it against the railings and not even bothering to lock it up. I run for the A&E department so fast that I almost trip over my own feet.
I’m almost frantic by the time I race up to the reception window and skid to a halt. I reach up and swipe the tears from my face. The receptionist looks up, startled.
“Hello, can I help you?” she asks, shooting me a worried smile.
I nod, gulping in lungsful of air. “Car accident. Two men brought in. Twins.” I can barely get my words out. My mouth has gone dry, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth as I pant for air.
Understanding crosses her face, and she nods. “Just wait there a second. I’ll buzz Beverly for you. She’s the nurse who called the next of kin.” She holds up one finger and then picks up the phone, pressing the buttons frustratingly slowly.
I lean against the counter for support as I glance around the waiting room. It’s only half full, and some of the people watch me with interest. I must look a sight, a girl hyperventilating and covered in a sheen of sweat, wearing pyjamas. I can’t bring myself to give a damn.
Finally, the receptionist puts the phone down and smiles at me. “Beverly will be out in just a moment.”
I step back, my eyes darting around, unable to stay on one thing for more than a second as I wring my hands and chew on my lip. The wait is like torture. Thoughts rush through my head so fast that I can barely process them before they’re gone.
It takes a couple of minutes before the receptionist waves over my shoulder. “Beverly, this is the lady you’ve been waiting for. With the twins.”