Echoes of the Heart

I ended the call before I could leave another message and sent him six back-to-back texts asking him to call me as soon as he could.
“I’m ready.” I grabbed my bag from its hook. I checked it had an inhaler inside and once I saw it did, I closed it and grabbed my keys. “Let’s go.”
Dr O’Rourke rose to his feet and, wordlessly, we left my home and headed to his car that was parked out front. We both hurried to get inside as the ice-cold breeze of the January winter night curled around us. It didn’t help that it was drizzling either. As soon as I buckled my seat belt, I said, “We need to stop off at Mum’s house to get her clothes and—”
“I went there before I came here.” Dr O’Rourke interrupted as he buckled his belt and started the car. “I grabbed some underwear, pyjamas and some toiletries. I figured if she needed anythin’ more specific, we could grab it in a few hours when shops open up.”
I nodded and looked down to my phone as he pulled the car onto the main road. Risk still hadn’t replied to me and there was no way in hell I was asking Dr O’Rourke to make a detour to the studio so I could see him. The studio was built right next to May Acton’s parents’ home. He was a member of the band and Risk’s best friend. I rang Risk a few more times. I phoned his friends too, to no avail. I sent him more back-to-back texts and received no response. I began to grow angry with him for not being there when I needed him, but I told myself that he was asleep.
He’d answer my calls and texts otherwise.
“How is Risk’s band gettin’ along?” Dr O’Rourke quizzed as we drove. “What’s the name of it again?”
“Blood Oath,” I answered, appreciating the small talk. “They’re doing really well. They released their first EP last month and they’ve received lots of notice from it. One of the songs off it became really popular on Blink so their fanbase has grown hugely thanks to that. You know the way fanbases have their own names? Well, now so do Blood Oath’s fans. They’re called Sinners.”
“What’s Blink?”
“Just an app used for skits and dances and stuff.”
“Oh, right.”
The conversation died down and we spent the roughly thirty-five minute drive in silence. I was tense the entire journey and I sensed that Dr O’Rourke was too. I had so many questions that needed answering, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask a single one of them because I was too scared of what the answers would be. It had just gone half past six by the time we reached the hospital and parked. It was still pitch black outside, but there were more cars on the road as people began to wake up to start their day by heading to work. Quickly, I sent Risk another text telling him which hospital I was at so he’d know.
“We’ll be allowed in, right?” I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Even though visitin’ hours haven’t started yet?”
“I was told she would still be in casualty for a few hours until a bed opened up on one of the upper wards. She’ll probably have her surgery before then, though.”
My heart stopped.
“Surgery?” My voice cracked. “She needs surgery? You never said anything about her having a bloody operation!”
“Her leg is badly fractured, Frankie.” Dr O’Rourke switched the engine off and pulled the handbrake up. “It won’t heal correctly on its own so she needs surgery.”
“What will they do to her?”
“They’ll likely insert pins, screws and a metal plate. That is standard for fractures that need surgical repair. I haven’t seen her X-rays, but the surgery is pretty straight forward.”
I tried to remain calm, I told myself my mum getting surgery was a good thing. It would fix her leg and give her a better chance at her bones healing correctly. I repeated this over and over in my head, but I felt panicky. I needed Risk; we had known each other since we were in reception class, but we only started dating three years ago. He had rapidly not only become the love of my life, but a rock for me too. He never made me feel like a burden with my asthma or anxiety, he helped me through every attack I had and held me afterwards.
He was my person and I needed him right now, to cope.
“Right,” I said to Dr O’Rourke. “I understand, but does she know she needs surgery?”
“Yes, she is aware.”
We got out of the car and hurried into the hospital’s entrance to get out of the rain and bitter cold. I followed Dr O’Rourke through casualty and I was so glad that no one stopped us or asked what we were doing. I needed to see my mum more than I wanted my next breath.
“Just through here,” Dr O’Rourke whispered.
We entered a room full of cubicles that had their curtains drawn. There wasn’t much activity, but I could see a couple of nurses chatting as they sat behind the nurse’s station on the far side of the room. Dr O’Rourke approached cubicle six and I was right on his heels. He dipped inside and I heard Mum say, “You’re back, hon.”
When I hustled inside and saw my mum for the first time, tears came fast and furious. She looked so small and weak in the bed before me. Her leg was in some sort of bandaged contraption. Her beautiful face was bruised and swollen all over and I saw she had gauzes on the back of her right hand along with one on her neck. I felt like someone was choking me.
“Mum.”
Her hazel, doe-eyes moved to me and instantly she lifted her arms and said, “I’m okay, honey. Come here.”
I moved around the empty side of her bed and leaned down into her embrace as I burst into a sob. She put her arms around me, kissed my face and held me, swaying me