Alphabet Weekends - Elizabeth Noble [92]
‘No. I want to be here, in case…’
Natalie wouldn’t let herself think about the ‘in case’.
Tom paced the corridor outside ITU. He was desperate for Natalie, of course, but he was also shattered. They’d been up absurdly early, it was almost three in the morning and he had a meeting at nine. This is the heavy stuff, he thought. This is what you sign up for, parents, children – this is the deal. And it was the second time he’d been here for Natalie in barely four months. Poor Nat. He thought about his own mum and dad, and wondered how he would feel. It didn’t seem fair: things had seemed to be getting better for Anna and Nicholas. Now this.
When Natalie eventually came out, she looked smaller somehow than when she had gone in.
‘How’s he doing?’
‘It’s too early to tell, apparently. I spoke to a nurse, and she said with a stroke this massive the first twelve hours or so are crucial. If he makes it through the night’ – she took a deep breath – ‘they can start to evaluate how badly he’s been affected. Until then it’s a waiting game. They said.’
‘And your mum?’
‘She won’t come out. She hasn’t left his side, I don’t think, since they got here. I hope she’ll sleep a little – they have a room here she can use.’
‘Do you want me to take you home?’
‘I want to stay, Tom. I want to be here. I wouldn’t sleep, anyway, if I went home.’
‘What can I do?’
‘Call work for me in the morning and tell them what’s happened?’
Tom nodded.
She stroked his face. ‘You look exhausted.’
‘Thanks.’ He managed a weak smile.
‘Still devilishly handsome, of course, but exhausted none the less.’
‘I wish there was something more I could do.’ He pulled his car keys out of his jacket pocket. He didn’t want to leave her.
‘Go, Tom. Sleep. You’ve done enough. You’re always there for me. You came when I rang, without a moment’s hesitation. You brought me to my mum and dad.’
He pulled her to him in a bear hug. ‘Call me. Any time. Promise? Any time.’
She nodded and pulled her arms up into the sleeves of her jumper; she looked about ten years old. He walked into the lift and pushed the button.
May
Q for Queen Tribute Band
This was Natalie’s first big night out – a planned outing – since her dad. It felt bad and good at the same time. Tom, it was always Tom, had made her come.
‘Don’t you think your dad would want you to? I know that’s the kind of crap thing that people say at times like this when they want to justify their behaviour, but think about it honestly. He’d want you to, wouldn’t he? Just like he wants Susannah to go for auditions, and he wants Bridget to go to – I don’t know what Bridget goes to, toddler groups or something. This is your life, Natalie, not his. Besides, I’ve bought tickets.’
‘Not more Wagner, I hope. I’m not in a very Wagner place, these days.’
‘Definitely not Wagner. Promise. This is very, very cool.’
It definitely wasn’t Wagner, but she might have quarrelled with the very, very cool bit.
‘Have you ever noticed how Brian May and Anita Dobson look exactly the same? Like those poodles. Or like Charles the First. Or was it the Second. I think they both had the same hair, come to think of it. That was why Cromwell didn’t like them. Can’t say I blame him. It’s absolutely rubbish hair.’
‘Sssh. I’d be careful about slagging Brian May off in this company.’
‘Am I the only sane person here, do you reckon?’
‘Since when did a fondness for classic rock make you mental?’
‘Classic rock! Listen to yourself, Tom. You’re still a young man, for God’s sake!’
‘The classic-rock genre knows no age limitation, Natalie.’
The tribute band was called Queens. The merchandise in the foyer proclaimed this proudly. The tour T-shirts boasted such mega-venues as Plymouth and Basildon. Natalie hoped the name of the band was ironic, but she doubted it. She was pretty much the only person there without a visible tattoo.
‘Tom? Have you got a tattoo?’ She hadn’t thought to ask before.
He looked at her strangely. ‘Yes, actually. I have a profile of Freddie Mercury on my left testicle.’
She smacked him.
‘No! I haven