Getting Dirty

With fuzzy fingers that are far too slow to do what I want, I call Grace back.

Pick up, pick up, pick up.

It goes straight to voicemail, just as the ping of a message arriving comes through. It’s a voicemail from Grace.

‘Coco, darling, it’s Grace. Don’t panic, but your grandmother has been taken into hospital with suspected pneumonia. She’s in the ICU. I don’t... I’m not... I think you should come as soon you as you are able. Philip will send you the details. Take care.’

My stomach heaves... My skin prickles from top to toe. Here I am, playing happy holidays with Ash, worrying over the state of my love life, when Granny’s fighting for her life. It feels like some twisted punishment for letting go, for being selfish enough to think of myself. How could I have thought leaving was okay?

I throw back the quilt. I need to get home—now. I need to tell Ash.

I don’t even dress. I head straight for the bathroom, opening the door.

Ash’s dawning smile dies the second he sees me. ‘Coco...?’

I can’t find my voice; I’m trembling all over. I grip my upper arms and start to rub them, shaking my head.

‘Coco?’

He slams off the shower and walks towards me.

‘It’s Granny.’ I swallow as I look up at him. ‘She’s been rushed into hospital.’

He inhales softly and reaches for his robe from the back of the door, wrapping it around me and pulling me in close. ‘Do you know what’s happened?’

My teeth rattle. ‘Suspected pneumonia.’

‘Okay.’ He’s so calm, so composed, and already I take comfort. ‘We’ll get dressed and go. Do you think you can get your stuff together while I let Dad know?’

I nod, so grateful that I don’t even have to ask to leave. He just gets it.

He turns away to grab a towel. ‘Do you know where she is?’

I shake my head. ‘Grace says Philip is going to send me the details.’

‘Okay.’ He wraps the towel around his waist and comes back to me, his hands firm and reassuring on my arms. ‘Go and message Philip, then get ready.’

I nod up at him and move away to do as he instructs, but my mind is racing. Guilt, fear, sadness... What will I find when I get back to London? Just how bad is it? ICU means bad.

When Ash returns to find me staring unseeing into my bag, he does it all for me. His calm and controlled manner is everything I need, and as he puts his arm around me to draw me towards the door I feel his strength, his warmth, seep into my body. I know that with him by my side I can face this.

I can face anything life throws at me so long as we’re together.

* * *

I’m so focused on Coco and her pain that nothing else matters as I drive to the hospital. She’s sported a haunted look ever since she came to me in the bathroom, and I’ve never felt so powerless in all my life. Nothing can take away her pain; I can only be with her and get her to her grandmother’s side as quickly as possible.

But her silence—it’s killing me. She’s barely said a word between saying goodbye to Dad, the plane ride and now the car journey once more.

The hospital is only minutes away now. I’m worried that she feels guilty at having gone away, and if so, that’s down to me.

I mean, Christ, if her grandmother dies and Coco’s not there, that’s on my head—that’s worse than everything else put together.

My hand pulses around the wheel and I realise my knuckles are white. I try to ease my grip, not wanting her to see how anxious I am, but as I look at her I see she’s fixated on the passing world, her body stock-still, her eyes distant.

I suppress the ragged sigh that runs through me. I feel desperate, pained, anxious, and so full of love for her it’s unreal.

‘Thank you for doing this,’ she suddenly says into the quiet.