And that was as much as I could say without breaking down. For another five minutes I watched cartoons with my son. I rested my hand on the bed next to him, and although his eyes flickered towards the movement, he didn’t flinch away. Still, I didn’t try to touch him.
I found him oddly self-possessed then. I knew the doctors thought he was in shock, but he didn’t seem shocked or afraid. He seemed comfortable in his own skin. He seemed quite at ease ignoring us all and casting his attention to what mattered the most to him: cartoons. And who could blame him? He’d been hurt by someone—an adult. Why would he want to interact with more adults after that happened to him? I didn’t blame him for ignoring us all.
It was Jake who brought me out of the spell cast over me in that quiet room. “Emma, honey. You need to call them.”
I nodded my head. What time was it? I hadn’t checked the time on my phone for what felt like hours. I’d given Jake my handbag and forgotten all about it. He handed it to me now, after I crossed the room on unsteady legs. I pushed my hair away from my clammy forehead and reached for my phone inside the bag. It was almost seven. We’d been here just under three hours. Sonya and Peter would be sitting down to eat their dinner at this time. I pictured them in back of the B&B. Peter was tall and broad like Rob—a boxer’s physique, which was something he used to do as a hobby in his youth. Sonya was a slip of a woman; stooped, thin shoulders on top of two matchstick legs. Her voluminous blonde bob always made her look a bit like a lollipop. The two of them dressed in Marks and Spencer cashmere sweaters and ironed jeans. They were the epitome of a nice, normal countryside couple.
The thought of telling them what I needed to say made me light-headed and nauseated. But I thought of how they had loved Aiden when he came along. We would walk to the B&B after school and Sonya would come running out with a box of Liquorice All-Sorts and a comic book. Aiden never really liked liquorice and they always got him the wrong comic book, but he was always grateful and laughed at Peter’s bad jokes. They took him to the farms outside the village to see the lambs, and to the rural shows when they came around every year. They held his little hand and pointed out all the sights for him to see. They bought him candyfloss and little trinkets for him to keep. I stepped out of the room and found a quiet space to call. When I placed the phone against my ear, I started to cry.
“Bishoptown Bed and Breakfast,” Sonya answered.
“Sonya, it’s Emma.”
“Emma, dear, you sound terrible.” She sucked in a breath. “Is it about Aiden?”
“Yes.”
There was a sob on the other end of the line. “Peter. Peter, it’s Emma. It’s about Aiden.”
I imagined him hurrying through to their living space in his woollen socks. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Sonya, it isn’t what you think. They haven’t found a body. They’ve found Aiden, but he’s alive.”
There was silence. Eventually, I heard Rob’s dad in the background. Sonya? What’s she saying Sonya? Tell me.
“He’s… alive?”
“He’s alive and he’s at St Michael’s hospital. I can’t explain much over the phone, it’s difficult to… You just need to see him and he needs to see you.” I decided to warn them face-to-face rather than over the phone. “And… well… you need to call Rob. He needs to come too.”
“Okay. Okay… I… Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Sonya.”
“Oh… Oh my, that’s…”
“I have to go. I’ll see you when you get here.”
I lifted the phone away from my ear and ended the call, drawing in my own deep breath. I leaned against the wall of the silent waiting room and closed my eyes for a second.
“Um, Mrs. Price-Hewitt.”
My eyes opened and my shoulders slumped. Dr Schaffer stood in the doorway with his hands deep in his coat pockets.
“If you have a few moments it might be a good time to draw some blood. It’s important to run the tests as soon as we can.”
“Of course,” I said.
“How are you feeling? Are you up to this?” he asked, meaning the blood draw.
As I followed him out of the waiting room I mulled that question over, and no matter how many times I thought about it, I still didn’t have an answer.
8
I got a cup of tea, a sandwich, and yet more explanations of what was to come. There were more tests to be done: x-rays, scans, psychological assessments. A therapist would see him soon. There might have to be an investigation into our home to check it was ‘suitable’. It was all too much.