Charlie let out a little laugh. It was a sleepy. “You hit someone?”
Andrew laughed a little, too. “Yeah, if you can believe it? He’s going to be fine, though. Which just leaves the question: what exactly happened to you?”
Charlie turned her head and looked away. Her eyes focused on her bandages. The sight seemed to upset her a great deal. “What d’you think?”
Andrew leant forward on his chair. “Frankie?”
Charlie nodded. “He knew that I spoke to you.”
Guilt took root in Andrew’s gut and started to eat away at him, gnawing with its vicious little teeth. “I’m so sorry. I went and had it out with him this afternoon. Your friend was with him and I mentioned your name. I…I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you have to believe me. I was just trying to protect my…” Andrew’s voice trailed off. This girl in front of him would be scarred for life and it was his fault. There were no excuses she needed to hear from him. None would be good enough.
“I don’t want you to ever bother me again,” said Charlie in a voice that was forceful despite her dreary, drug-addled tone. “This happened because of you.”
“I know. But this also happened because of Frankie. I may have dragged you into this, but it’s him that needs to pay. We need to tell the police.”
Charlie shook her head. “Frankie is a psychopath.”
“I know,” said Andrew, exasperated. “That’s why you need to have him arrested. I need to make sure he’s stopped before…before…”
“Before he does the same to your family?” said Charlie.
Andrew felt sick at the thought. Earlier on, he’d been convinced that Frankie’s bark was bigger than his bite, but after the callous attack on this innocent young girl, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
“I’d get your family and just move,” said Charlie, sounding very sleepy now. “I’m not…getting…involved.”
Andrew sat for a few moments, trying to formulate a counter-argument in his head, but came up blank every time. Before he even came close to having something useful to say, Charlie had fallen asleep, deeply unconscious in the grasp of morphine-soaked oblivion.
Andrew stood up. “I’m sorry,” he said as he left the cubicle.
Outside, the male nurse had been waiting for him. “Everything okay?”
Andrew shook his head. “Not at all, but for now can you take me to the boy I ran over. Seems I have a lot of apologising to do this evening.”
***
Andrew had to sit outside the recuperation ward for over an hour while Davie slept. He sent a text message to Pen, letting her know that the girl was okay and that he would be home soon. He didn’t tell her that he’d also run over a young boy on the way to the hospital. That was a conversation for later.
A plump woman came out of the ward and smiled at Andrew on her way to the nurse’s station nearby. As she passed she told him that, “The boy is awake now. You can go in.”
Andrew nodded his thanks and stood up. His knees clicked as they straightened out and he suddenly felt sixty-years-old. Inside the ward there were a dozen separate beds, half of them empty. At the far end was the boy he’d hit, head wrapped in a bright-white bandage. Andrew walked over and stood at the end of the bed.
“How you doing?” he asked. “You feeling okay?”
The boy’s eyes went wide for a split-second, almost as if he recognised Andrew, but that seemed unlikely. “Y-yeah, thanks. Was it you that ran me over?”
Andrew nodded.
“Did you do it on purpose?”
“What?” Andrew’s mouth fell open. “Of course not. I never meant it at all. I’m really sorry this happened.”
The boy was silent for a moment as if trying to work something out. “Okay. So you never wanted to hurt me?”
“Of course not. I’ve never even met you before. I’m sorry, okay?”