‘Ach, are you serious? I’ve been sat here so long my bum’s gone numb and now he’s finally woken up you want me to leave?’ Cormac was laughing in between his words but the nurse wasn’t registering any humour.
‘You scared us all, you big eejit,’ signed Carly and Fergus grinned back at her.
‘I have no idea what’s going on but I feel like I’ve had a massive spliff,’ said Fergus, his voice a little wobbly.
‘Tell him his mother’s here!’ said Cormac, losing his whimsical air and pointing to Rosemary still praying at Fergus’s side.
‘I know she’s here. Hiya, Mam, are you okay?’ He tilted his head as far as it would go to the right so that he could see her.
Rosemary smiled and patted his hand while fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘I’m fine now, son.’
‘Will someone tell me why I’m here or is this one of those weird dreams where I’ll suddenly be naked and …’ He lifted the sheet and grinned. ‘I’m na-ked!’ he said in a sing-song voice.
Carly started to frantically sign to him. ‘It’s not a dream. You were attacked with a bottle in a bar when you were out with Budgie and Ryan. You’ve been unconscious for three days.’
‘What?’ said Fergus with a beaming smile, which soon faded as he registered the looks on his parents’ faces. Eventually his gaze rested back on Carly, her eyes red with tears, and he took her hand. ‘Seriously?’
Carly nodded. ‘We thought you were going to die.’ It was the first time she’d said it out loud; the words seemed to unleash yet more emotion and a sob escaped.
‘Hey, it’s okay. Look, I’m fine,’ said Fergus, smiling again.
‘You’re on a strong intravenous painkiller and when that wears off you may think otherwise,’ said Carly. She decided she would keep the news about the surgery until a little later as he already looked astonished by the information overload.
‘What day is it?’ he asked cautiously.
‘Easter Monday,’ replied Cormac, moving round to be next to Rosemary. ‘This’ll do nothing for your Messiah complex, so it won’t.’ He shook his head but he was smiling broadly, now standing behind Rosemary with his hands on her shoulders.
‘Easter Monday,’ repeated Fergus.
‘Look, maybe the nurse is right. Perhaps we should leave you to rest,’ suggested Carly, looking across the bed.
Cormac nodded his agreement. ‘She’s right. We’re all pretty knackered too. We’ll be back in later to see you.’ He and Rosemary kissed Fergus’s forehead in turn. ‘Shall we wait for you outside?’ said Cormac to Carly and she nodded. They watched Cormac and Rosemary grip hands tightly as they left.
Fergus studied Carly, her face red and puffy from the tears. His eyes refocused on her left hand and as he rubbed his thumb over her ringless fingers, a frown darted across his forehead and he narrowed his eyes. She could see he was trying to work out what had happened.
She very gently touched his chin so that he would look up and see her speak; she was suddenly exhausted and too tired to be bothered to sign. ‘The ring is safe in my pocket. I didn’t want your parents to find out when you were …’ She tailed off.
‘So I didn’t imagine that you said yes?’
Carly started to grin as she remembered Trafalgar Square. ‘No, you didn’t imagine that.’
He pulled her to him and kissed her. ‘Thank heaven for that. My head is all spaced out.’
‘It’s bound to be, you’ve been through a lot.’
‘And the weirdest thing. I’ve got these songs going round in my head.’ Fergus was puzzled.
‘Oh yeah?’ said Carly, getting to her feet and trying hard to hide a smirk. ‘What songs?’
Fergus chuckled. ‘Really crap ones!’
‘How odd. I’d better go, your mum and dad are waiting. I love you.’
‘I love you too,’ said Fergus.
Carly left the ICU with her hand held up in the ‘I love you sign’ and Fergus grinned as he watched her leave. He looked around and picked up the unfamiliar device that was on his bed. He turned it over in his hand, feeling the vibrations, and followed its cable to his iPhone.
‘What on earth is this?’ he said to himself. He scanned the screen of his phone and saw that it was playing ‘We Are the Cheeky Girls’ on repeat. ‘Bloody hell! Were they trying to finish me off?’
Jack was trying hard not to panic but, between him and the two volunteer search groups, they had checked everywhere there was to check in the village and there was no sign of Leo. Doris had been next to useless but she appeared to have enjoyed her long walk and she trotted along keeping pace with Jack. He was racking his brains for an idea, a clue to where Leo could be, but each thought was hijacked by the fear that he was wasting his time, that Leo was no longer in Dumbleford. He stopped for a second and took in a great lungful of air. He needed to think. Who had he not asked? Jack broke into a speed-walk, which took Doris by surprise as her lead yanked her forward. Jack was heading for Ernie’s. Ernie was the only person Jack hadn’t seen all day; he hadn’t been there at the Easter egg hunt, he wasn’t in the willow tree when the drama all kicked off and there’d been no sign of him since everyone had been searching for Leo.
What was a short walk seemed to take far longer than usual because, when Jack quickened his pace, his whole body ached thanks to the after effects of the carbon monoxide poisoning. A few minutes later he was at Ernie’s, calling through the letterbox and banging on the door. There was no answer – Ernie was missing too. Jack went and knocked on the neighbour’s door, which was quickly answered.
‘Hello, Jack, come in and have a cuppa, won’t you?’
‘Sorry, Audrey, I can’t stop. I’m trying to find Ernie. Have you seen him today?’
Audrey looked momentarily disappointed but she soon recovered and pondered the question. ‘I saw him leave about ten-ish I think. No, it was before ten because afterwards the news came on the radio …’
‘Thanks, Audrey,’ said Jack and he pulled an inquisitive Doris away and walked to the corner of Ernie’s road. He stood there for a moment catching his breath as if he were unfit. The carbon monoxide had taken its toll; he hoped its effects would soon wear off. His mind darted to Beth and it spurred him on. He needed to find Leo and for some reason he felt finding Ernie would hold some answers. He needed to think like Ernie and that gave him a sense of despair, for who knew how Ernie thought? It was hard to tell. He understood most things, it was communicating he struggled with, especially since Wilf had died. Wilf, that was it, thought Jack. Where would Ernie and Wilf have gone if they were troubled? He had no idea but he knew someone who might.
‘Stop the bloody banging!’ yelled Shirley moments before she opened her front door. ‘Oh, it’s you, what’s up?’ she said, standing in front of him with a limp cat under her arm. Jack looked at Mittens and felt the panic rise as he squinted at Doris, who was engrossed in sniffing the doorstep. Jack pointed elaborately at Doris and then Mittens, who had already clocked the large dog in her vicinity and was now starting to do something akin to the backstroke in mid-air.
‘Shut the door,’ said Jack softly.
‘Why? Don’t be ridiculous, they’re fine,’ said Shirley but Mittens made a break for it over Shirley’s shoulder and the movement and flash of white landing in Doris’s view kicked off World War Three. Doris charged into Shirley’s house and Jack had to let go of the lead as it was yanked from his grip or risk knocking Shirley over. Shirley shook her head. ‘Well, you’d better come in,’ she said, the reluctance evident in her voice.
Jack didn’t have time for this. His mind was a throbbing whirl of worries.