rel="nofollow" href="#litres_trial_promo">Chapter Thirty-Three
• What makes a mother?
• A mother cooks
• A mother picks me up from college
• A mother falls asleep in the afternoon
• A mother is always there.
When I was little my mum always told me to look at the brightest star in the sky and make a Christmas wish, and it would come true.
The brightest star in the sky is Polaris: the North Star, the star that guides travellers home.
Tonight I looked through my telescope and made my Christmas wish.
Maybe Polaris can guide my mum and bring her back home.
Then we can be a family again.
Livvy
I come to in the car park, sitting on the ground, feeling very confused. I remember the car, the kid, and an incredibly painful bang on the head, and lots of people flapping around me, but nothing else. But that must have been hours ago. It’s dark now, and I am alone and I can’t quite remember why I am still here. Did they leave me behind? Why didn’t they take me to hospital? That’s weird. I feel in my pockets for my mobile. I must ring Adam, my husband. He and our son Joe will be so worried. That reminds me, I’m cross with Adam for some reason, but I can’t think why. I can’t find my phone. I must have dropped it when the car hit me.
The. Car. Hit. Me.
I stop for a moment and try and absorb the logic of this. If the car hit me, why am I not hurt? And why am I still here? And why is it dark? – Oh no …
Adam
When I hear my wife is critically ill in hospital I’m standing out at the front of our office having a surreptitious conversation with Emily – I don’t want everyone at work knowing what’s gone on. It doesn’t make me proud to know how secretive I’ve become in the last few months.
‘How did she find out?’ asks Emily in a tense whisper.
‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘That’s not really the point any more.’
‘This changes everything,’ says Emily.
I sigh. ‘I know. Still, it had to come out some time, but I wish I’d been the one to tell her.’ I don’t know. I’ve wanted to, so many times in the last few months, as my home life has been deteriorating to beyond even what I could possibly have imagined. During that time Emily had become the one beacon of light in my life. But would I have ever found the courage? And then there’s our son Joe of course. What on earth is this going to do to Joe? Guilt and misery lodge uncomfortably in my stomach. We’ve had some rotten Christmases in the past, but this one could be shaping up to be a humdinger.
‘Adam, there you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’ It’s my PA, Marigold. She looks really upset. The words come tumbling out of her so fast I can’t quite take them in. ‘I’m so sorry, Adam, but you have to go to the hospital. There’s been an accident. Livvy’s been badly hurt.’
‘What?’ I’m not sure I’ve heard correctly. ‘Emily, I’ve got to go, Livvy crisis.’
‘You have to go,’ Marigold says frantically. ‘Now. She’s in the hospital.’
I’m ashamed to say that my first thought is that Livvy’s pulling a stunt – her way of getting back at me. But when I finally speak to someone at the hospital, it seems she really has had a bad accident. ‘I’m sorry to tell you she’s in a critical condition, Mr Carmichael,’ says the doctor. ‘I suggest you come immediately.’
I dither about whether to pick Joe up or not. How will he react? But if things are as bad as they say, will Joe forgive me for leaving him behind? So, in the end, I grab him from his sixth-form college, and we get to the hospital to discover that Livvy is in Resus. We’re shown into a family room, which feels ominous. My heart is pounding and I feel really sick. Nobody will tell us anything, but everyone speaks in hushed tones, and I am beginning to fear the worst.
Livvy
I start to remember. It was two weeks until Christmas Day and I was on my way to Lidl to get some Christmas shopping, still staggering from the news I’d just heard. Adam, my lovely husband Adam, had been unfaithful to me. I mean, I knew we had our problems, and I’d felt for a while that he’d been quite distant, but Adam, having an affair? I was reeling with shock, and mad as hell. There I’d been, sorting out a lovely Christmas for us, and he’d
