The car was in the woods.
With no idea where she was and consciousness slipping, Allie limped to the back of the car. After pausing to catch her breath, she began to follow the car’s tracks, lurching through bushes and trees, and then up an embankment to the narrow country lane.
The way her left arm flopped uselessly at her side scared her so she held it still with her right hand as she stumbled unsteadily along the empty road. She was moving as fast as she could – something told her she needed to get far away from that car.
She could see the skid marks the car had left as it swung from one side of the road to the other before leaving it completely.
But the road was blurred. Something was blocking her vision. When she reached up to swipe her hand against her eyes, it came back covered in blood.
I’m bleeding, she thought unemotionally. Guess that’s no surprise.
Somewhere she could hear a car engine, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. She tried to speed up. But as she limped down the road, she knew she was veering from side to side, and blood was now dripping on to the snow with each step, leaving a trail of scarlet behind her.
By the time she saw the car coming directly towards her, she was too exhausted to get out of the way. Standing slightly hunched over from the pain, she held up her good hand as if that would be enough to stop it and stared straight into headlights.
The car skidded to a stop.
She could hear a car door open but all she could see was the blinding light.
The moment seemed to stretch out for ever.
‘Who is it?’ she tried to say, through gritted teeth, but she didn’t know if the words actually came out.
‘Allie? Is that you? Oh my God.’ A man’s voice.
Then he stepped out into the light and she saw his horrified face.
Raj Patel.
As he reached out for her, she collapsed in his arms.
THIRTY-TWO
Golden light. Soft blankets. Warmth. Pain.
Allie could hear voices but she couldn’t seem to wake up.
‘How is she?’
‘Still unconscious.’
‘Is it bad?’
‘Well, it’s not good. Just look at her, for God’s sake.’
Someone holding her hand, whispering in her ear.
A pinprick.
Silence.
With a gasp, Allie opened her eyes. They felt gummed together and heavy.
Slowly the room came into focus – all she saw was white. A white bed. White light streaming through white curtains. White walls.
Every part of her body hurt. When she licked her lips, they didn’t feel right – they felt swollen and torn. She tried to speak but her mouth was too dry.
She was so thirsty.
With effort, she turned her head to the right. It hurt to move. Sylvain was asleep in the chair beside her, arms crossed protectively across his chest. He looked young and vulnerable.
But when she reached out to him, a shock of pain shot through her and she whimpered. His eyes flew open; the light reflected in them like jewels.
‘Allie?’ He leaned forward, taking her right hand in his. ‘It’s OK. You’re safe.’
She felt strange. As if she were cocooned. Sound seemed to come from a long way away.
‘You were in an accident,’ he was saying.
‘I know that,’ she whispered, although the words sounded fuzzy, as if spoken through a mouthful of gauze. ‘I was there.’
A relieved smile spread slowly across his face and he bent down to kiss her fingers.
‘Doctor,’ he called over his shoulder.
A woman in white appeared behind his shoulder, eyes concerned. ‘Hello, Allie. Please don’t move.’
Reaching past Sylvain, she took Allie’s wrist between her fingers and checked her pulse, looking at her watch. Then she studied numbers on a machine by the bed and wrote down the results.
‘How do you feel?’ the doctor asked.
‘Hurts. Thirsty.’
‘I’ll give you something for the pain.’ She handed Sylvain a cup with a straw in it. ‘Tiny sips only. Don’t let her have too much. I’ll be right back.’
He held it to her lips. The tepid water tasted delicious – she wanted to drink all of it, but he pulled it away. That was OK. It hurt to drink anyway.
Her eyes searched his. ‘Jo?’
His face went blank. ‘Don’t talk, Allie. The doctor wants you to be still. We’ll talk soon.’
Panic surged; the heart monitor beside the bed beeped in alarm. ‘Jo?’
Half standing now, Sylvain called over his shoulder, ‘Doctor?’
‘I’m right here.’ She appeared beside him, a syringe in her hand. ‘Please don’t move,’ she told Allie firmly. ‘We need you to be still.’
As she injected the contents of the syringe into the drip Allie watched, helpless. Something was wrong but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Then her brain lost interest.
Everything went dark.
When she woke again, it was night. Her bed lay in a pool of golden light. Now Isabelle sat in the chair next to her, reading a stack of papers. Her glasses were halfway down her nose.
Allie tried to say ‘Isabelle’, but her throat was too dry again. But the headmistress must have sensed her movement because she leaned forward, setting the papers aside.
‘Allie – here.’ Isabelle held the glass of water for her.
Her face still felt swollen but the pain wasn’t as bad now and Allie slowly turned her head, verifying that her room was otherwise empty. ‘Sylvain?’