by Kyra Lennon
“You should be fucking grateful to have me! Do you know how many men hit on me tonight? And yet, I came home to you!”
“Lucky me.” The sarcasm rolled from my words as I turned away from her, standing up.
I heard her scream out before something sharp hit the back of my neck three times in a row. The pain shot down my back, causing a cold tingle to rush down my spine, and I could feel blood trickling down my neck. I turned around to see her holding up the red stiletto she’d been wearing.
What the hell was with her and shoes all of a sudden?
Before she could strike me in the face, I tore it from her hand and threw it across the room.
The move was done on impulse, but inside, I could feel myself starting to shake. Because now, she was furious, and me? I was hurt. Not just physically, but wounded from the inside, all of it surging through me. The tiredness. What little fight I’d had had gone, discarded like the shoe I’d just tossed in the corner.
Her eyes were wild, and her fingers reached up, her sharp nails clawing down my face.
“You fucking loser,” she spat. “I should have gone home with one of the guys I met tonight.” She got right up in my face as the sting from her scratches started to settle into my skin. “Some of them, they were pathetic. One of them even tried to tell me he could take me somewhere nice with his dole money. And you know what? He would still have been better than you.”
The scorn from her words hit me harder than her heels had, and I slumped down to my knees, every bad word she’d ever said to me raging in my mind.
She was right. I was a loser. Only a loser would let this happen. Let someone run them down over and over. Make them afraid to do anything in case she turned into this. The monster that stood before me.
I was as pathetic as she said. I deserved the punch she’d just landed on my jaw. I deserved it because I was no good.
A waste of time.
Of space.
A waste of air.
“Evie! Wake up!”
Blinking, I slowly opened my eyes. The room was still dark, but Oscar was on top of me, softly hitting me to wake me up.
I know kids wake up early on Christmas morning, but it was five-thirty. And weren’t they supposed to wake their parents up first, not the house guest?
“Oscar,” I moaned, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a hug. “It’s too early to get up yet, my darling. Go back to bed.”
He wound his arms around my neck. “But Santa’s been!”
His eyes were wide, and he looked so cute that I chuckled. “How do you know?”
“Because there are presents under the tree, silly!”
So, he’d already been downstairs. I chuckled again. “He might have been, but you can’t get up until Daisy is up, and,” I added quickly, because he sat up, as if ready to run to her room, “you mustn’t wake her.” I sat up too, rubbing my eyes. “I think we should put you back to bed for a little while, and we’ll get up again very soon.”
Oscar’s lower lip pouted out, and I laughed. I was about to lift him up to take him back to his room when my phone started buzzing on the side table.
There was a withheld number showing on the screen, and while I wouldn’t usually have answered, the fact that it was so early unsettled me.
What if something had happened to my mum?
I reached over for it and answered. “Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Evie West?”
The voice was female and friendly-sounding, but that didn’t ease my rising panic.
“Yes,” I said. “Who is this?”
“My name is Karen Oldham. I’m a receptionist at Manchester Royal Infirmary.”
My heart began to race. Unaware of any problems, Oscar began to jump up and down on the bed, clearly not interested in going back to sleep.
Manchester though? Whatever it was, it would have to be something serious for her to have been taken there instead of a closer hospital.
“Wh… what’s happened?” I asked, trying to listen over the sound of my thudding heartbeat.
“About two hours ago, someone was rushed in, and it’s taken him a little time to regain consciousness. We asked him if there was anyone we could call for him, and he gave us your name. We had to do a bit of work to find you because he didn’t have your number, but… do you know an Ashley McKay?”
My fear-stricken brain took a moment to search for the answer. Ashley…?
OH! Ash! Hearing him being called Ashley had totally thrown me, and I gasped.
“I do,” I said, my pulse not slowing down any knowing it was him and not my mother in the hospital. “What’s happened?”
“I’m afraid I can’t give you any details over the phone. I can’t give out any information to anyone who isn’t family, which he says you aren’t, but you are the only person he asked for. Since then, he hasn’t said a word.”
My head began to pound along with my heart. I desperately hoped the worst I was thinking, that he and his girlfriend had had a fight and he’d attempted suicide, was not true. Maybe he’d had an accident, or gotten sick and his girlfriend was… elsewhere. But, even knowing what I did about her, surely, if he was unwell, she’d have been with him.
Shit.
“Well, can you… I mean… is he going to be okay?” I stuttered.
“We think so,” Karen said gently. “He is in a bad way. He could really do with a friend, I think.”
Tears crept into my eyes. “Okay. Sure. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you.”
As I hung up the phone, Oscar still bouncing around me, I took a deep breath, trying to pull myself together.
I had hardly spoken to Ash since we went to Birmingham. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to, or even because I had nothing to say, I just didn’t want to always be in his inbox. I didn’t want it to feel like I was always checking up on him. I had wished him a Merry Christmas and offered to be around if he needed someone to talk to, but then I’d left it there because I didn’t know what his plans were, and because I was at Keely’s. Now I wished I’d talked to him more, because… what had happened?
I thought back to our conversation in the hotel. How he’d told me that he’d considered suicide before; he’d been considering it the night we met. I was all too familiar with wanting everything to end. With the knowledge that there were people who would be there for me, but tired of feeling like a burden on them, that they would be better off without me.
“Evieeeeee!”
Oscar threw himself at me and I only just managed to catch him, I was so lost in my thoughts.
I had to go.
“Come with me, little man,” I said, holding him in my arms then getting out of bed. I took him back to his room, with him protesting the whole way, insisting that Santa had been and he had to open his presents right away.
As I tucked him back in, his big eyes staring at me, I said, “Listen, sweetie. Auntie Evie has to go now, but I will come back later. Try to go back to sleep, okay? I promise you will get to open your presents soon, but Mummy and Daddy need you to sleep for a bit longer.” He pouted again, and I kissed his forehead. “I will see you later.”
“Bye, Auntie Evie.” He turned over onto his side, and I was certain there was no way he’d sleep again, but at least I’d tried.
I went back to my room and quickly changed, pulling on the jeans and plain black jumper I’d worn the day before instead of my more dressy Christmas Day clothes. I ran into the bathroom and quickly washed my face, more to wake myself up than anything, and hurriedly re-did my messy bun. That was all I cared to do. I just wanted to go.
I went back into my room and got all of my belongings together, then picked them up and put my bags down in the hallway, pausing for a second. Did I leave a note downstairs, or tell Keely and Nick I was leaving? After debating with myself for a moment, I decided I should let them know, so I knocked softly on their bedroom door, feeling awful for waking them up.
“Go back to bed, Oscar.” Nick’s groaned wo
rds made me laugh. I guessed that meant Oscar had tried them first before coming to me.
“It’s me,” I said quietly, opening the door a crack and peering in.
Nick blinked before looking at me. “Santa hasn’t been yet, Evie. Go back to sleep.”
I chuckled, and he smiled. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” I whispered, “But I have to go. Right now.”
“What’s wrong?” He glanced down at Keely who was still fast asleep beside him. Nothing could wake that girl. He looked as though he was considering trying, and I shook my head.
“It’s okay. Let her sleep. I… I had a phone call. One of my friends is in hospital, so I have to go.”
“Oh my God. Is everything okay?” He sat up a little.
“I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me much over the phone.” Fear for what had happened to him, for how bad he must have been feeling, ran through me again. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I will try to come back later if I can, probably late afternoon.”
“Okay, do what you need to do, but let us know how things are going later, okay?”
I nodded. “I will. I should get going. I have to drive to Manchester. Say bye to everyone for me, and again, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, really. I hope your friend is okay.”
I gave him a small smile before stepping out and closing the door then I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the house.
I’d got to the hospital in good time, but the whole way, my mind was racing. I wished I knew what had happened to Ash. Wished I had spent more time talking to him the night before, or even in the days after we’d got home from Birmingham. Maybe if I’d just been there, if I’d offered him more support…
And yet, I knew. I knew because I’d been in that position too. I’d had the best support system but that never stopped me trying to take my own life. But even knowing it, the guilt still crept through me, settling into my stomach and making me feel sick. The whole way there, I had to keep sipping on my bottle of water—I always kept one in the car—just to try and settle it.
When I arrived and parked, I rushed inside, no idea where the hell I was going. I headed to the main reception desk and explained what had happened, that I’d been called, and the receptionist directed me to a ward on the third floor of the hospital, and told me to speak to the staff up there so they could take me to Ash.
I was shaking, palms sweaty as I went up in the lift. What was I even going to say to him when I got there? I wanted to be there for him, but we didn’t know each other that well. Not really. It made me sad that I was the first person he’d thought of to call; a virtual stranger he’d met at a gig. I knew his mum lived in Spain, but were there really no other friends? People he was close to? I didn’t mind at all that it was me, I just felt bad for him that there weren’t more people in his life.
I arrived on the third floor and immediately approached the first nurse I found.
“Excuse me,” I said, and the young, blonde-haired nurse turned to me, surprised. Of course she was surprised; it was just after six-thirty in the morning. Not visiting hours. “My name’s Evie. I was called because a friend of mine was admitted here earlier and was asking for me. I checked in at the main reception and they sent me here.”
She must have heard the panic in my voice, and she smiled gently. “You’re here for Ashley?”
I nodded, less shocked at the use of his full name this time. “Yes. Is he… is he okay?”
She shook her head. “Not great, but hopefully you being here will help. He hasn’t spoken in a while, and I know the police will be back here in a few hours to question him again.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. “Police?”
“Yeah. He was admitted a few hours ago, badly beaten. A domestic, apparently.”
My jaw dropped and my heart started to pound again. “A domestic? His… his girlfriend put him in here?”
She nodded. “It seems that way. The police were called by the neighbours when they heard screaming. They thought he was hurting her, but she had been screaming in some kind of drunken rage and was the one who was hurting him.”
Tears came to my eyes again, this time brought on by anger. How could anyone do that to someone they were supposed to love?
“Erm…” I stuttered. “What… what did she…?”
The nurse placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, understanding what I was trying to ask. “He doesn’t look good. He has gashes on his neck, scratches on his face, a black eye, and a cut lip. There is further bruising on his legs, and three cracked ribs. More bruising to his chest and stomach. He is extremely lucky someone alerted the police when they did. I know this is hard to hear, but when the police went in to take her, he was just lying on the floor. Conscious, but allowing her to keep doing what she was doing. He was shaking, in a state of shock, we think, but…” she paused and squeezed my arm, “… we’re concerned about his mental state. He will be here in the hospital for at least a few days while we control his pain, but we might need to run a psychological assessment on him too. He could still be in shock, which is unsurprising. We just have to see how things go.”
I dropped my head back, blowing out a breath.
Poor guy. He’d been close to the edge not that long ago. I was grateful someone had reached him in time. Who knew what would have happened if she’d left him alone and nobody had been there to help him?
“The girlfriend,” I said. “Do you know what happened to her?”
She’d better be in jail, because if I get my hands on her, I will end up in jail.
The nurse shook her head again. “She was arrested at the scene, but that’s all we know. The police will be here later, so they might be able to tell you more if you’re still here.”
I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
“Has his mum been informed?” I asked, remembering that, even though she wasn’t in the country, she still needed to know.
“Yes, she has,” the nurse answered. “She’ll be here as soon as she can, but with it being Christmas and all, she’s got to work out flights.”
I nodded. “Okay. I will try to be here as much as I can until she arrives.”
And after. I refused to let him go through this alone.
“Are you ready to go to him?” the nurse asked softly, and I nodded.
She turned and I followed her down the corridor to a private room. She knocked gently on the door then said, “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, please come and get me.”
“Thanks.” I offered her a weak smile before opening the door. My hands were shaking as I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me.
My eyes fell on Ash.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
I saw his body stiffen as he registered a presence, but he wouldn’t have been able to recognise my voice. I’d barely recognised it as the breathy words tumbled out.
Ash was lying on his back in the bed, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. He was hooked up to what I assumed and hoped were painkilling drugs. His right eye had a large, yellow bruise around it, and his lip was cut and his cheek swollen and scratched. I knew from what I’d been told that those weren’t the only injuries he had, and he had the pale complexion of someone who had been to hell and back.
I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes, but I couldn’t stop them spilling over. He was a pretty big guy, but right then, he seemed so small. So young. So damn vulnerable.
Slowly, I approached the bed and sat down. I knew he knew I was there but he didn’t look at me. I watched as his own eyes filled with tears and, very slowly, fell down his cheeks. Words I so desperately wanted to say to him got stuck in my throat, threatening to choke me.
As he began to sob, my own tears came faster, and as his body shuddered beneath the covers, I sat beside him. As gently as I could, I reached up to his swollen face and brushed a few of his tears away with my thumb.
“Don’t.” His hand moved to push me away and my heart clenched hard in my chest as he turned his head a
way from me. I knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want me there. He’d asked for me.
He was embarrassed. Humiliated.
Broken.
“Please don’t hide from me,” I whispered.
“I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have asked you to come.” His voice was empty. Completely vacant of any emotion or feeling, and my blood ran cold at the sound.
“Why?”
“Because…” he paused, and my heart fractured as his lower lip trembled. “You just… you don’t need this in your life. Please go. I deserve to be alone.”
He closed his eyes, succeeding in blocking me out completely, and I swallowed hard to shift the thick clog of emotion that had settled there.
“Ash.” His name was hardly more than a breath on my lips, but I knew he heard me. In a second of frustration, he clenched his fist and pounded it down on the bed, catching my hand as he did so. I pulled my fingers away quickly, gasping, my reflexes working faster than my brain, because it hurt; he’d probably bruised my fingers, but he hadn’t known my hand was there.
He flicked his head towards me, his eyes wide with shock and regret and… fear? Does he expect me to retaliate? Was this what that bitch had turned him into? A man who was angry and afraid?
His entire body had gone rigid, like he was waiting for me to raise my hand, and when I didn’t move and my tears fell faster, he shook his head slowly. “Evie, please just go. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry, but you have to go. I can’t… I don’t deserve you being here. Not after what I did.”
Not wanting to distress him anymore as he’d started shaking again, I took my time moving my hand towards his again. His eyes followed my movements until I placed my hand over his, our palms meeting. I rested my fingers across his but didn’t grip. I wanted him to make that choice. He’d had his space invaded more than enough with Natalie’s attack.
“If you really want me to go, I will,” I said gently. His eyes stayed on our almost joined hands. “But please don’t push me away. Please.”
“I hurt you,” he whispered. “Like she hurt me.”