“Sir,” Ted agrees on a nod. He knew it was never up for discussion.
As we break the confines of the airport, my impatience grows as William’s driver weaves through the rush-hour traffic on the M25. We find ourselves at a standstill on more than one occasion, and each time I have to fight the urge to jump out and run the rest of the way.
By the time Ted pulls up to the hospital, it’s dark and I’m beside myself. I dive from the car before it comes to a stop, ignoring Miller shouting after me. I’m out of breath when I land at the main reception desk. “Josephine Taylor,” I splutter to the receptionist.
She eyes me with slight alarm. “Friend or relative?”
“Granddaughter.” I shift impatiently while she starts tapping on her keyboard, throwing the odd frown here and there at the screen. “Is there a problem?”
“She doesn’t appear to be in our system. Don’t worry, we’ll try another way. Her date of birth?”
“Yes, it’s—” I’m halted midsentence when my nape is claimed and I’m led away from the reception desk.
“You’ll get to your nan a lot faster if you listen to me, Olivia. I’ve got the details. I know what ward she’s on, the room number, and the directions to get us there.” His patience is wearing thin.
I remain quiet as he steers me down the never-ending tunnel of white, my trepidation mounting with each step. It’s eerie, the echoes of our footsteps lingering forever in the hollow space. Miller is quiet, too, and I hate myself for being unable and unwilling to ease his obvious concern for me. Nothing will make me feel better until I see Nan alive and well and throwing some spunk in my direction.
“Here.” His palm on my neck twists gently, prompting me to veer left, where a pair of doors open automatically and a sign that says WELCOME TO CEDAR WARD greets us. “Room 3.” Miller drops his hold, leaving me feeling unstable and weak, and indicates to the second door on the left. My steps falter, my heart refusing to ease up with its steady thumps. The heat of the ward hits me like a sledgehammer and the smell of antiseptic pollutes my nose. A gentle nudge in my back encourages me to take the handle, and after loading my lungs with much-needed air, I turn the knob and push my way into the room.
But it’s empty.
The bed is perfectly made, all the machines neatly tucked away in a corner. There’s no sign of life. I feel dizzy. “Where is she?”
Miller doesn’t answer, instead moving past me and halting abruptly, taking in the empty room himself. I’m just staring blankly at the empty bed, everything else around me blurring, including my hearing, which only vaguely registers Miller insisting that this is the correct room.
“Can I help you?” asks a young nurse.
Miller steps forward. “The lady who was in here, where is she?”
“Josephine Taylor?” she asks. Her eyes are downcast, and I don’t think I can take whatever is coming next.
A lump clogs my throat. I reach out and grab Miller’s arm, digging my nails in. He responds only by prying my clawed fingers from his flesh and squeezing my hand before bringing it to his mouth.
“You’re her granddaughter? Olivia?”
I nod, unable to speak, but before she can answer, I hear a familiar laugh coming from down the hall. “That’s her!” I blurt out, yanking my hand from Miller and nearly knocking the nurse off her feet when I barge past. I follow the familiar sound, vibrations rippling through me with each pound of my feet on the ground. I reach a crossroad and skid to a stop when the sound fades to nothing. I glance to the left and see four beds, all with old people asleep.
There it is again.
Laughter.
Nan’s laughter.
My head whips to the right, seeing another four beds all occupied.
And there she is, sitting up in an armchair positioned to the side of her hospital bed, watching television. Her hair is perfectly styled, and she’s wearing her frilly nightie. I move toward her, drinking in the beautiful sight until I’m standing at the foot of the bed. Her sapphire eyes move away from the television and land on me. I feel like electrodes have shocked me back to life.
“My darling girl.” Her hand reaches for me, and my eyes explode with tears.
“Oh God, Nan!” I make a grab for the curtain that’s pulled back by her bed and nearly fall through the damn thing.
“Olivia!” Miller catches my staggering body and quickly steadies me on my feet. I’m all in a fuddle, too many emotions spiraling through me to deal with. He runs a quick scan over me, then looks over my shoulder. “Fucking hell,” he breathes, every muscle visibly sagging.
He thought it, too. He thought she was dead.