My desperate scissor kicks at the covers have me almost falling off the side of the bed.  The fresh night air streaming in through the open window sweeps across my body raising goose bumps over my naked skin. I shudder as I begin rummaging around in the darkness for some clothes. This is no time to deliberate over an outfit; any old thing will do.

Movement on the mattress creaks the springs and the sheets crunch. A click and the lamp bathes Harry's corner of the room in light.  He rolls onto his back sinking his head into the pillow. His half-sleepy features are soft with the tip of his nose pink from the chill in the room.  He squints across at me, the puff of the pillows under his eyes are prominent.

"Thank God you heard my phone. I was out for the count. I need to borrow your car. Is that okay?" I gush, hopping around struggling to pull up my leggings.

His forearm flops onto his face covering his eyes but his rosy lip pout is still visible. "I hate to point out the obvious but you can't drive at the mo," he utters, huskily.

I stop. My hands press firmly into my hips then my body sinks at his reminder. "Shit!"

Before I have a chance to ask, he is out of bed and putting on his sweats.  "Quick question, what's happened?"

"Tell you in the car," I puff, rushing towards the door.

-*-

There is a serene eeriness about driving through woodland at night. The statuesque trees encroach on the moon, filtering its illumination and throwing dark shadows across the ground. I tug my cuffs over my hands and noticing, Harry reaches for the temperature controls.

At the end of the driveway he pauses, looking both ways a number of times despite the road being headlight free in both directions. I realise his concern. Right is the long way round, left is the quickest route but I have not been passed my accident spot since it happened.  Agitation flutters on my chest about the prospect, particularly as it is dark, but this is no time to be fragile; Olive needs me. I wave my hand flippantly for him to go left but still he falters. Only my hand over his and my half-hearted smile give him the certainty he seeks.

As we drive by I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in an audible breath. When I open them again I can feel my heartbeat pulsing through my clenched fists. Harry distracts my contemplation by asking about Olive. After my explanation, his foot presses a little harder on the accelerator.

It feels like the world is against us with every light red and a delay from nighttime roadworks but we finally reach Olive's house. Before the wheels even cease turning I open the car door. Approaching her house I notice the front door is ajar so I push it ever so gently so as not to scare her.  She is slumped on the bottom step of the stairs hunched over herself; the level of her pain obvious. She hugs a pillow and is rocking backwards and forwards. When she looks up, her pallid face crumbles and her frightened eyes spring tears. I try my best to support her to the car but Harry is immediately beside me to lift her into the back seat.

All the way to the hospital she clings to me, pleading for Harry to hurry. I catch his eye in the mirror; his worry crease is pronounced on the bridge of his nose.  Luckily, the early morning hour rewards us with an empty drop off bay and an available wheelchair.

"Go, I'll park and come find you," Harry insists.

"There's no point in us both being here. I've got this." I kneel on the front seat and lean across to kiss him. "Go back and get some more sleep. And thank you."

"If you're sure? Call me. Love you."

"Yes, will do." I mutter over my shoulder, already heading towards the sliding doors of the hospital entrance.

Once inside, I glance back to see he is still sat in the drop off zone just staring towards us. He looks vacant but then raises his hand in a farewell before driving off.

Over the next few hours I expect commotion but the atmosphere is calm and methodic. I understand why but the quiet is despairing. Time drags with a sense of waiting for the inevitable that is realised soon enoughas I hold Olive in my arms and she cries for the loss of her baby.

After the initial shock of finding out she was pregnant, Olive had embraced the prospect of becoming a mother. Seeing her in so much anguish, my heart aches for her. I have nothing to console her high emotions so I say nothing; my support is better given with actions and not words.

Eventually she falls asleep.  I move from the bed and sit in the armchair. The synthetic cover is cold against my neck but eased by a hospital blanket I pull up to rest under my chin. I know I should message Harry but I am so tired and he is probably asleep.  The tears I have been holding inside now stream until there is nothing left to flood out of me. Then I am granted the sleep I crave.

*-*

Trolley wheels rattling along the corridor steal me from my turbid dreams. Rolling my head from side to side stretches the crick in my neck. I suck in a huge yawn that pops my ears and when I rub my eyes, moisture is left on my fingertips. My head flops back to snooze some more but my phone interrupts me.

Harry.

Not being entirely compos mentis right now and not wishing to wake Olive, I decline his call.  As hard as I try to get back to sleep though knowing he is awake and probably wondering what is happening niggles at my conscience.  It is no use; I wander down to the empty relatives room to call him. He answers instantly but I can tell he has not long been awake by the hoarseness of his tone.

"Hi... I'm calling you now... Well I was a bit preoccupied but as I said, am calling now... She lost the baby... Will do when she wakes... They are on their way here ... Doubt it, I'll message you... We have to delay... Why not?... Surely a couple of hours won't make much difference?!... Oh right! I didn't realise you had business?... If you're going to be so busy, are you sure you still want me to come with you?... I simply asked if we could delay a couple of hours... I cannot just up and leave... If it's so imperative you leave exactly at 10, on the dot, then you'll have to go on.... I 'll come later... Harry... Harry, I'm not being like anything. It's you who are being totally unreasonable... She just lost her baby and you expect me to leave her all alone to travel to London on a jolly. Not happening I'm afraid... I know how apprehensive you are... It's not a choice, Olive needs me more... Harry... Of course I.... See me when you see me?...Harry...Harry."

He has hung up on me!

I stare at my screen in disbelief. What was that conversation we just had? He is clearly tired and grumpy.  I brush it aside.  He will come to his senses when he wakes up properly and sees he is being a dick.

As I re-enter the room Olive is stirring. When she fully opens her eyes she bursts into tears. Further confirmation there is no way I would leave her on her own. I sit beside her on her bed.

"Thanks for staying with me," she blubs into my jumper.

"Come here," I hug her tight, "Of course I stayed!"

"What's the time?"

"Around nine thirty-ish I think. Your Mum and Dad will be here in a few hours."

"You'd best get going soon.  Your London adventure awaits."

 "I am not going anywhere."

"But...."

"It's all sorted, we're leaving a later."

A knock at the door luckily interrupts the subject and the nurse appears. I leave them to it and slip out to get coffee.

When I return I am surprised to find Olive's parents have already arrived and are stood outside her room. Olive's mum races towards me, so desperate for a full explanation that I only just manage to hold the drinks upright.  

When the nurse finally exits the room, Olive is swept up in her Mum's arms whilst her Dad stands awkwardly in the doorway. The nurse has given Olive the go ahead to go home and the relief on her face is clear. Emotions spill over and at this very point it feels the right time for me to leave. 

After absolute reassurance from Olive that she does not want me to stay longer, I leave.  Stepping out of the shadow of the inside  into the bright sunlight of morning reminds me of the day I left this place. That day I thought I would never see Harry again but he showed up unexpectedly. I glance at my phone. He has not called me back.

I get a taxi straight away but I know I will never make it back to Summer Haze by 10. En route I redial him repeatedly but he does not respond. I decide to leave a message but it cuts out before I can get my words out.

My battery is dead.

I sit up tall in the back, gripping onto the passenger headrest. I follow every detail of the journey, willing the driver to put his foot down. I fidget at every hold up, tut at every red light and sigh when the driver pootles below the speed limit.  The frustrating journey feels slow when in reality it does not take any longer than usual. 

Finally we pull into Summer Haze and my shoulders relax a little but as the front of the house comes into view, I am met with a glaring reality.  His car is not in the driveway.  I am too late.  He has gone.