Absolution (21 page)

“Ally!”

He headed to her bedroom next, pushing the door open, anxiety forcing every other emotion aside. The curtains were still drawn and the room was dark, but he saw her lying on her bed. Her wheelchair was beside the bed and everything looked normal. Despite appearances, his heart was racing. Why did she have music playing in the living room if she was in bed? And why hadn’t she woken up when he had pounded on the door? Or smashed the window? Or called her name?

“Ally?”

He squinted into the gloom, walking over to take a closer look. Panic choked him. The bed was littered with photographs. A bottle of pills, cap off, lay on the bed beside her.

His heart stopped. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He reached for the bottle. It was empty. He scrambled over the bed on his knees towards her.

“Ally! Wake up!”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her but she didn’t respond. His hands trembled uncontrollably, adrenaline coursing through his body as he checked her neck. Her pulse throbbed lethargically beneath his fingers.

“Oh Jesus… what have you done?” he breathed.

“Callum?”

“Tom! In here!” he shouted, his voice breaking as he fought the rising panic. “Call 911!”

He pulled Ally into his arms, rocking backwards and forwards.

“What the hell?”

Still cradling Ally, he looked up to see Tom in the doorway. “Help me!”

The look of horror on Tom’s face as he spied the empty bottle of pills on the bed mirrored his own.

“Oh my God.”

Jack woke up slowly, stretching. He squinted, hauling himself upright as he tried to get his bearings. Apparently he had slept on Ally’s couch. 

A crash rang out in the silence.

Ally
.

Jumping up from the couch, he ran across the hall and burst through her bedroom door. She was sitting sprawled on the floor by her bed, wearing the same black top from last night. She had removed her jeans however, and was wearing only her underwear. She stared up at him in shock but she wasn’t the only one startled.

From the waist up, she looked more or less the same. From the waist down however, it was a very different story. Her legs were pale and thin, the lack of muscle tone made more pronounced by prominent knees. 

“Get out!” she cried, eyes wild as she leaned forward, effectively bending herself in half to preserve her modesty. “Get out of here!”

Startled and speechless, Jack could only oblige, backing towards the door.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled nervously, pulling the door closed behind him.

Standing in the hall, unsure of what he should do next, he heard her utter a string of curses. Tentatively, he turned back to the door.

“Ally?”

“What the hell are you still doing here?” she demanded.

“I uh, I fell asleep on your couch last night,” he grimaced. “I heard a crash, or something. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!”

He leant his shoulder against the door. “I’m sorry. I thought you were in trouble – I thought you needed help.”

“I don’t need your help!” 

He winced at her tone. “Okay, I’m sorry – my mistake.”

“What happened last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, where the hell are my crutches and why is my chair on the other side of the room!”

Jack gave himself a mental kick. “Shit – I’m sorry, that was my fault. I moved your chair out of the way when I carried you to bed last night. And your crutches are still in the living room. It didn’t even cross my mind to bring them through.”

He braced himself for the tirade he was sure would come.

“You carried me to bed?”

She really didn’t remember?

“Well, yeah,” he stared at the ceiling. “You fell asleep while I was making coffee – I couldn’t just leave you on the couch.”

“I fell asleep?” she mumbled, so quietly he could barely hear her. “God, I must’ve been drunk.”

He heard movement from within and he waited anxiously. After a few minutes, the door opened. She sat in her chair with what looked like a robe strewn on her lap, covering her legs. She didn’t look at him, moving past him up the hallway without a word and disappearing into the bathroom.

He breathed out heavily and ran his hand through his hair. He felt more washed-out than hung-over.

The sight of her bare legs had rattled him, there was no denying it. Even though her gait was awkward and exaggerated, she looked more or less solid and stable when she was walking. But seeing beneath the jeans and braces - glimpsing behind the curtain – the truth was something very different. Worse still, he hadn’t been able to hide his reaction from her. What he wouldn’t give to be able to replay the moment without having his thoughts written all over his face. No wonder she had withdrawn from him.

He retreated into the living room, his stomach churning. Coffee would be good right about now. He wandered through into the kitchen as the bathroom door opened and a few moments later, Ally’s bedroom door closed. He wondered if he should just leave, but that felt wrong – it felt like running away again and he had promised himself he was done with that. So he set about making coffee in her kitchen for the second time in as many days.

Three Years Earlier

Callum and Tom sat in stony-faced silence in the hospital waiting room. Callum stood up and started pacing the length of the room, stretching his arms above his head. The familiarity of the past hour or so was grinding down his last nerve.

“Sit down, son.”

Callum frowned at Tom, shaking his head. Sitting down was worse than pacing. At least when he was pacing, he felt like he was doing something, even if it was nothing helpful. Although nothing he did seemed to have been helpful lately.

He stopped at the end of the room and leant on the windowsill, staring down at the parking lot. He was thankful Maggie and Jane were getting coffee. He didn’t think he could keep up the pretense of being in control for much longer.

After everything Ally had been through, why would she do something like this now? Why give up after she had fought so hard to get her life back? What in the hell would make her want to throw it all away?

He straightened up and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His entire body felt like an over-coiled spring. He tried to relax his shoulders and turned to resume his pacing across the room.

“Callum – “

“Don’t tell me to calm down, and don’t tell me to sit,” he snapped, with more force than he meant.

Tom wisely backed down and Callum was grateful. He strode past him again and leaned against the wall at the opposite end of the room, staring at the floor.

Whatever it was that he’d missed, it was big. Big enough that Ally didn’t feel like she could talk to him about it. He had failed her. She needed Jack, not him. His heart sank as the truth seeped in. It didn’t matter what he did, he wasn’t Jack – even after the past twelve months, after all they had been through together.

He stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of Tom. “Call him – now. Tell him.”

Tom stood up slowly. “No.”

“Tell him he needs to get his ass back here – pronto.” When Tom opened his mouth to object, he cut him off. “I mean it. This has gone on long enough. He needs to come home – she needs him,” he said, pointing desperately towards the ER treatment room where Ally was currently having her stomach pumped.

“And you think that telling Jack what happened would help?” 

“Yes!” he cried, his emotions bubbling to the surface. “I don’t know why the hell she did this, but if Jack were here it wouldn’t have happened – he wouldn’t have let it happen!”

Tom sighed and put a comforting hand on Callum’s shoulder. He shrugged it off irritably and backed up, sinking into a plastic chair opposite him, exhausted suddenly.

“He’d have stopped it, he’d have seen it. I didn’t. I missed it – I missed it and she nearly – “

He shook his head, staring down at the linoleum beneath his feet. Tom sat down beside him. The smell of Lysol leaked into Callum’s despair, making his stomach heave.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Tom said. “I missed it too. And telling Jack now wouldn’t make any difference. It wouldn’t change anything.”

“He needs to be here – she needs him. It’s time he grew up and came home.”

Tom was silent for a moment, then he put his hand on Callum’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t you think that if I could bring him home, I would’ve done it by now? I don’t even know where the hell he is.”

A thousand fears swirled around inside Callum’s head, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice a single one of them.

Jack sipped a steaming cup of coffee, staring over the table at the empty space across from him. Ally had yet to come out of her bedroom and he was beginning to wonder if she was waiting for him to leave.

His jaw set. He wasn’t going anywhere. It was about time she realised that. It was no use asking him to stay if she was just going to hide from him. All in, all the time, no matter what.

He finally heard her bedroom door open and a few moments later, she appeared in the kitchen doorway. He tried to smile casually, although he felt anything but relaxed.

“I made coffee – strong coffee. Want some?”

She nodded, rolling into the room while he got up to pour her a cup.

“Here you go,” he said, setting down the cup on the table across from him a few moments later.

“Thanks.”

She placed a bottle of aspirin on the table, tentatively wrapping her hands around the cup.

He eyed the bottle. “How’s your head?”

“Not great, but I’ll live,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I had all these weird dreams last night. Crazy stuff. Must’ve been the beer. Dreamt I was dancing.”

He smiled. “That wasn’t a dream.”

“It wasn’t?”

“Nope.”

He took a gulp of coffee that sounded way too loud.

“I don’t usually drink these days,” she said after a few moments. “It all happened so fast – one minute I just had a little buzz on, the next… ” 

He smiled, grateful she was at least talking to him. “But you remember dancing?”

“Yeah. I wish I remembered more of that, to be honest.”

“We’re just gonna have to try that again when we’re sober, then.”