Chasing Alys

by Morgana Bevan

  “I realised something downstairs.” I pulled back and met his patient gaze. “It never concerned me when my mother missed my graduation or seeing my name on the credits of my first series, but she’ll never get to meet you and that bothers me,” I mumbled, the final words garbled as tears sprang to my eyes.

  Ryan pulled me close, his hug fierce as I sobbed into his shirt.

  “I wish I could have met her too,” he whispered against my hair. “Would she have liked me?”

  I raised my head and managed to smile at him. “She’d have liked your determination.”

  “Not my beautiful voice or my charm?” he joked, smoothing the tears from my face.

  “Your voice might have won you some brownie points.”

  “I’ll just have to serenade you for the rest of my life in her honour.”

  I snorted. “As if you needed a reason.”

  Resting a hand at the small of my back, Ryan started to sway with me. I don’t know how long we stood there, but I didn’t care. I loved listening as he hummed the chords of his new song. Everything felt lighter with him near. I was beginning to wonder how I’d managed to live so long without him.

  Emily and I sequestered ourselves in our own little world at dinner. I’d worried over the onslaught of tricky questions my dad fired at Ryan at first, but as the night progressed, I gave up refereeing. Ryan appeared to be holding his own, and Dad was definitely not upset with his responses.

  Had I not already been emotionally attached to Ryan, I would have fallen deeper watching him humour my father. Especially when he gave in to my father’s demands and pulled out his guitar to show off some of the more innocent songs he’d written about us.

  “Is that a Taylor?” Dad asked when Ryan had strummed his last chord. He pushed back his chair and held out his hands for the guitar. “May I?”

  Ryan handed it over without hesitation.

  “I haven’t held a guitar in…” My dad paused, his attention turning inwards as he counted back the years. “Twenty-seven years, at least.” He met my intrigued gaze. “How did you think I got your mother?”

  “I had no idea you played, Dad.”

  He nodded. “My agent didn’t think it fit the image of a bestselling crime fiction author.”

  He strummed a chord, but his movements weren’t as smooth as Ryan’s. He frowned at the strings, his frustration evident.

  “I could show you some exercises to loosen your fingers, if you’d like?” Ryan’s offer drew a smile to my face.

  “That would be great,” My father said, passing the guitar back to Ryan with a wistful look. “A couple of the guys have been talking about putting together a band down the pub. It would be nice to play again.”

  “Oh, please tell me the priest and the bartender are in on it?” Emily asked, her hands clutched together in gleeful hope.

  “Did your father tell you?” My dad’s sharp eyes assessed Emily.

  Emily laughed. “It’s like the start of a bad joke, but I really need to see this.”

  “Well, if Ryan can get my fingers working again, you will,” my father promised, completely missing the point of Emily’s interest. Emily always managed to get herself into trouble with the local priest as a kid. He was responsible for countless hours of detention, always catching us skipping classes in the woods around the village. Her glee made perfect sense to me.

  “We can make a start tomorrow,” Ryan said, his gaze fixed on my father and oblivious to Emily’s amusement.

  Dad got teary-eyed for a moment, and I thought we were home free. Ryan evidently agreed with my assessment, because when my dad mentioned Glasgow, he looked like a fish out of water.

  “It’s all still pretty new, Dad. We’re not making any relocation plans in the near future.”

  “How do you expect to be together if you’re in different cities – countries, even?” My father scoffed, miraculously avoiding eye contact with any of us.

  “I’ve actually been talking to the guys about relocating us all to Cardiff after the tour,” Ryan said, grinning at my shocked expression.

  Dad’s eyes latched onto Ryan’s. Pleased, he nodded. “Good, good. She’s a slippery one to hold on to, so that would be best.”

  “Dad!”

  “She made me chase her hard enough. I have no intention of letting her go now, Mr Morgan.” My foot jerked beneath the table, failing to connect with Ryan’s shin. He felt the brush of my foot passing and grinned. It was childish, but these were strange times. He met my wide-eyed gaze with ease and a smile that set a fire inside me.

  “Her mother did the same thing. I followed Viv around the UK, sold my guitar and used the money to turn up at every one of her book signings until she agreed to let me take her out. It was worth every single rejection,” Dad said, smiling. For a moment, his eyes glazed, lost in the memory.

  “You must miss her,” Ryan whispered.

  “What? Oh, every day. But Alys’s visits help.” He reached out and squeezed my hand. His eyes hardened on Ryan, and the message was clear: Don’t you change that.

  “Why don’t you move closer to Cardiff, Dad? I could visit more, and you wouldn’t be left wandering around this big house alone.” My words fell on deaf ears, as they did every time I tried. This was at least take twenty. He didn’t bother justifying staying in this tiny village anymore.

  He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the memories behind. I’d always assumed that meant leaving Mam behind, but I couldn’t bring myself to push harder for answers. Despite my drive to get away from the quiet, I think I’d also miss the big old house.

  “Shall I make us some hot chocolates while you set up the board games, Dad?”

  He nodded, deep in his memories but able to recognise that I had offered him an out.

  Ryan followed me into the kitchen. Aside from a shiny silver appliance here and there, it was relatively untouched. Just the way my mother had loved it.

  “Nice job with my dad,” I told him.

  “Haven’t you heard?” Ryan said, placing a soft kiss on my neck. My heart may have skipped a beat. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I more than willingly leant into him. “I’m a charming guy. And I like him.”

  I chuckled. “He likes you too, as long as you’re not taking me away from him.”

  “You know what I said before about everything changing tomorrow? I talked to the guys. They are willing to move our home base to Cardiff.”

  I turned in his arms and studied his face. He was serious, not an ounce of doubt in his lovely eyes. Dare I hope it would be that easy?

  “I don’t want them to uproot their lives for me, Ryan. That’s not fair.”

  “They volunteered. We talked through all the possible options, and in the end, they all wanted to come home. Their parents are going to be thrilled, so stop trying to beat yourself up about it.”

  I laughed. His smile was genuine and free of bitterness. It would be too easy for him to feel left out in that situation. I guess that would be my purpose in his life, to make sure he never needed to miss his family. To be the person who cared about his life.

  “I’m in deep here. Being on tour without you after the initial month is going to be hell. I can’t handle the off months without you too.” His fingers stroked my neck, forcing me to keep eye contact. As if I wanted to break it. “So, if any part of you still thinks this is a fling, you need to tell me now.” His tone was light, but I could see the tiny spark of unease the idea raised for him.

  “It’s not just a fling.”

  “Thank fuck.”

  Our eager lips met in a scorcher of a kiss. Ryan pushed me back into the worktop while our hands wandered, and we both forgot that my father and Emily were a room away. The rush was surprisingly exhilarating. Had I started the hot chocolate, it would have burnt.

  Then, all too soon, Ryan pulled back. I sighed, content to stay just like this and never leave the room.

  “Oh my God. Mr Morgan! Alys, help!” Emily screamed, shattering our moment and s
ending panic rocketing through me.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “What’s wrong, Em?” I asked, my heart in my throat as we rushed back into the living room.

  My father lay on the floor, his eyes closed and his face slack. Emily sat at his side, tears streaming down her face while she blubbered into the phone.

  “What happened?” Ryan asked as I collapsed next to my father.

  Everything I’d learnt in my first-aid classes eluded me and I shook him. With my pulse beating a mile a minute, all I could focus on was getting him to wake up.

  “He started rubbing his chest,” Emily said, moving the phone aside briefly. “Then he stood up to get some painkillers and passed out. They’re asking if he has high blood pressure or high cholesterol?”

  “I-I don’t know. Dad!” I prodded his still chest. “He’s not breathing.”

  “What! He was a minute ago,” Emily cried, repeating the news into the phone. “How do you do CPR?”

  Ryan joined me on the floor and pushed my hands away from Dad’s chest. I watched, forcing air past the lump in my throat, as he interlocked his fingers and took over, pressing down in rhythmic pulses. Tears streamed down my face unchecked. The emotion hindered my attempts to help, but I couldn’t get it under control.

  “How long for the ambulance?” Ryan asked.

  “A couple of minutes,” she said, kneeling next to me. She took my hand, squeezing tight while we watched Ryan work.

  “What does a couple of minutes mean in this place?”

  The question set Emily off on a new flood of tears. The sensible part of my brain said we both had to calm down before we hyperventilated and needed our own ambulance. But the tears wouldn’t stop coming, and I couldn’t get a grip on my ragged breaths.

  Ryan spoke to Dad and tried to reassure us on every rest. I could see the fear in his eyes, but he remained the only calm one in the room.

  All the reports I’d ever read suggested that ambulances in these areas were never fast enough. I just gained a man I could trust, but now I was going to lose another? How was that fair?

  Sirens blared outside, but I was too focused on Dad to react. Emily stood on shaky legs and went to let the paramedics in.

  It was a rush of movement from that moment on. Streams of questions flew at me while one of them took over with a defibrillator.

  The moment Ryan was free, he pulled me up from the floor and guided me to a chair. My hand reached for his. I refused to let go of him or lose sight of my father.

  We relayed every single detail either of us knew – which wasn’t a lot. The guilt eating my insides stared back at me from Emily’s horror-struck eyes. We should have been here more. I should have forced him to move closer. I should have taken more time off work to visit him.

  The paramedic trying to revive him relaxed ever so slightly. He nodded to his partner. Had I not been watching them like a hawk, I would have missed it. My eyes flew to my father’s face, hope fluttering in my chest. Nothing had really changed. His eyes remained closed; his face still looked slack. My heart crashed back to the ground.

  The partner stood and approached me. His eyes were gentle, but his mouth was set in a thin line. “He’s breathing again, but we need to get him to the hospital quickly.”

  I nodded, clamping down hard on the bubble of emotion that threatened to floor me. Ryan’s grip tightened, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

  They produced a stretcher and began to carefully load my father onto it. It was a quick process, but my heart hammered with each jostle.

  Emily lost it as they carried him out. Her face crumpled. She choked on the tears she’d been struggling to hold back.

  “Alys, you should ride in the ambulance with your dad,” Ryan said, pushing me to follow the paramedics. “Emily and I will gather some things and meet you at the hospital.”

  Dazed, I nodded and walked out.

  The medics loaded Dad into the back of the ambulance and hooked him up to more machines than I wanted to see. One smiled kindly and took my hand, helping me into the vehicle. Then another got in behind me, slamming the doors shut. Without a word, he guided me into a seat at the end and buckled me in. The ambulance took off and I sat, stewing in my fears, nothing more than an observer as they worked to save my father’s life.

  Alone in the urgent care waiting room, I had no idea where I was, in the hospital or in the country. I’d followed the paramedics in, watching terrified as they tried to restart my father’s heart again. He’d crashed just as we pulled into the ambulance bay.

  A nurse had guided me in here. She sat me down with a cup of water and a box of tissues before disappearing. Apparently, someone was supposed to come and update me.

  I hadn’t touched the water. The sight of it made me want to throw up.

  I was going to need a refill on the tissues. I’d cried myself out for ten minutes. All I felt now was blissfully numb.

  Then Ryan and Emily walked in. Emily’s tear-stained face set me off again. Ryan pulled me out of my seat and into his lap. He wrapped his strong arms around me while I buried my face in his shoulder and gripped Emily’s hand like it was a lifeline to better times. It was another half an hour before I could stop again.

  “Has anyone been in?” Emily asked, her voice stronger than before. I shook my head and she stood. “I’ll be right back.” She walked out of the room with determination in her step.

  Down the hall, her voice rose as she demanded answers from the nurses. She returned fifteen minutes later with coffees and began to pace the waiting room.

  No one spoke. Hours passed without so much as a peep from the hospital staff.

  At some point, I must have fallen asleep. Ryan shifting me into my own seat jostled me awake. I blinked up at him, startled by my surroundings, the whole ordeal momentarily forgotten.

  “Go back to sleep, Alys. I’m just going to get us some food,” Ryan whispered, tucking a blanket around my legs. I frowned at it. Where had that come from? “Emily got them.”

  I nodded, unsure of my voice and terrified that I’d start crying again if I tried to talk.

  Emily lay stretched out across multiple visitors’ chairs, wrapped in her own blanket. She stared back at me with red-rimmed, vacant eyes. I probably looked exactly the same.

  I blinked and Ryan was back, my head rested on his hard thigh. Jared and Emily sat staring at each other. Jared was whispering to her, and Emily kept shaking her head. I must have drifted off again.

  “What’s Jared doing here?” I murmured to Ryan.

  His gaze jumped to Jared and Emily. He shrugged. “I have no idea. I didn’t tell him we were here.”

  I nodded. That meant Emily did. I wasn’t dealing with that mystery while my father could be dying.

  “What time is it?” I croaked, forcing myself into a seated position.

  “A little after midnight,” Ryan whispered, pulling me onto his lap without hesitation.

  “Did someone come to update us?”

  Ryan shook his head, and dread uncoiled in my stomach.

  “That’s not a bad thing. They could still be working.”

  “How is that not a bad thing?” I asked before my head could catch up with my stupid mouth.

  Just as I’d convinced myself to go check in with a nurse, a man in scrubs stepped into our deserted space.

  “Ms Morgan?” he asked, his eyes flicking between Emily and me.

  “Yes?” I replied shakily.

  With a serious face, he approached me. I tried to stand, but my legs wobbled. Ryan placed a hand on my shoulder, steadying me.

  “My name is Dr Andrews. I’m your father’s doctor. He’s in recovery now, but he did have a cardiac arrest.”

  Did I want to ask? Swallowing hard, I opened my mouth to be brave.

  “Do you know what caused it?” Emily ventured in a very small voice. Jared tried to help her stand, but she brushed him off.

  “He has a build-up of plaque in his arteries which is restricting the flow of oxygen-ric
h blood to the heart. I performed a percutaneous coronary intervention. We inserted a catheter and a stent into your father’s arteries to restore the flow of blood.”

  I had no idea what half of it meant, but he didn’t wear the expression of someone holding back bad news. I took comfort from that.

  “Is he going to be okay?” My voice shook, but I powered through.

  “Most likely. He did stop breathing, but given the paramedics’ resuscitation attempts, it’s possible he won’t suffer complications. He’ll be sedated for a couple days, but I’m confident with the right adjustments, he’ll make a full recovery.”

  I filtered the doctor’s words into a box, trying my best to build a wall between the pain and the facts. Losing myself to grief in that moment would not have helped my father.

  “When can I see him?”

  “They’re getting him settled in recovery. A nurse will be along shortly to take you up. When he wakes up, we’ll need to have a conversation about his recovery. It’s going to be a long road and he’ll need some support.”

  “I can be here to help him,” I said in a rush.

  “Okay. We’ll discuss it as the situation develops.”

  I thanked the man while I could still control my voice. But as soon as he left, my wall crumbled. Ryan held me as sobs wracked my body.

  Once I’d cried myself out, I found that numb spot again and held onto it with a tight fist. Ryan took it as a perfect opportunity to force-feed me a rare vegan sandwich he’d found in the canteen vending machine. It was food… we’ll say nothing more about it.

  He’d stared at me with his mouth set until I’d eaten every last bite. Combined with the dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he’d been wrung out to dry. I’d do anything he asked when he looked at me like that.

  Other than leave the country to tour with him. There was no way I could actually abandon my father for a month now. Whether I’d be able to go back to work in February was questionable too. But I had no idea how to broach the subject with him. He’d been so scared of leaving me behind. I didn’t want to relight those fears.