Sian paced the hospital waiting room anxiously, one hand hovering over her mouth protectively as she felt bile rise in the back of her throat once again. Her other arm wrapped around her torso instinctively as her stomach cramped, twisting itself into a knot of anxiousness and worry. She felt the sudden rush of nausea that followed, her head swimming, her eyes struggling to keep the room in focus.
Her legs gave way slightly beneath her, an early warning that if she didn't sit down soon, her knees were likely to collapse and with them, her whole body. Sian closed her eyes quickly, sucking in a long, uneven breath as she tried to fight another wave of nausea that was threatening to consume her. Blindly, she reached out for the back of a nearby chair, quickly descending into it. She dropped her head down into her waiting hands as the room began to spin. Her head felt hot to her touch, like if she didn't lift her head soon she would scorch the very hands in which it rested. She ran her hands clumsily through her hair, realising as she did so that it wasn't her head that was warm, but rather, that it was her hands which were cold. She lifted her head slightly to look at the offending appendages and saw that they were shaking uncontrollably, her knuckles pale, her palms sweaty before her. She rubbed them quickly across the front of her pink sweater in an attempt to dry them before placing them underneath her on the chair, the weight of her body stilling their unwanted tremors momentarily. After a few seconds, Sian could bear the stillness no longer and she felt her whole body begin to shake as she hurriedly tapped the floor with her right foot.
Sian pulled her hands out from under her legs and unconsciously began to fiddle with the bangles around her left wrist as she scanned the waiting room in search of the Pastor. She took in the loud chorus of voices surrounding her in the busy accident & emergency department, but as much as she tried to concentrate on what was being said, she could make out very little, only a few odd words scattered here and there. The walls were drab, that horrible beige which was standard in most hospitals across the country. She noted that the light paint was marked in places with dark scratches, probably the result of equipment and trolleys catching the walls as they rushed past. She pictured Sophie being bought in here and wondered if her trolley had followed the same path, crashing into the walls as it was guided hurriedly through the double doors into the treatment areas beyond.
Sian's stomach turned over once again and she reached her hand up to her mouth certain that this time she was going to be sick. The thought of Sophie, lying broken and bleeding, surrounding by unfamiliar faces and organised chaos made her retch and she longed for some words of comfort and reason to reassure her that she was being ridiculous. That Sophie, her girlfriend, would be alright.
She glanced around the room again, panic and paranoia at the Pastors continued absence eating into her. He'd called her from the ambulance, her number still stored away in the memory of his mobile phone from when she'd belonged to his choir. When he'd explained what had happened, Sian's initial reaction was denial, that he was playing some sick joke on her. The whole scenario was ridiculous, yet alone completely improbable. Sophie couldn't have fallen, Sian had tried to reason, the brunette hadn't been back to their old church since they'd walked out before Christmas. It was only when she'd heard the rattled tone of his voice that she sensed his concern and realised that he was being deadly serious. Sian felt tears sting the back of her eyes as she thought about the implications of what he'd relayed to her over the phone.
'She's being taken to Weatherfield General Hospital.' He'd told her hurriedly. 'Sian, I need you to contact her parents….Sian? Are you listening to me? The paramedics said I should call her family and get them to the hospital as soon as possible. Sian? I don't have their number. I need you to call them for me.'
'Ok' Sian had replied numbly as the Pastor disconnected the call, so that as she continued to hold the phone firmly to her ear, all that remained was the monotonous ring of a dial tone. She'd remained still for a moment, her brain failing to force her body into resolute action. Finally she'd dropped the phone in front of her and found Rosie's number in her contacts. She'd connected the call, returned the phone to her right ear and waited.
"Hiya Sian babe," Sophie's bubbly sister had answered almost immediately. "What's up?"
"Rosie," Sian had started her voice quiet.
"Yeah babe," Rosie had replied encouragingly.
Sian had remained quiet on the other end of the phone, uncertain how best to go about telling the oldest Webster daughter that her younger sister was in a critical condition and on her way to the hospital.
"Sian, what's going on? Are you alright?" Rosie had coaxed, sensing her hesitation.
"Yeah," Sian had said simply, her throat thick with emotion. "It's not me…Rosie…its Sophie."
Sian had heard Rosie's sharp intake of breath over the phone and swallowed hard, trying to moisten her suddenly dry mouth.
"Sian where are you?" Rosie had asked worriedly before Sian had told her everything that she knew, the words pouring out of her mouth in a rush.
When she'd finished, Sian had to wipe at her eyes, ridding them of the tears which had escaped unnoticed.
'Sian babe," Rosie had said quickly. "I'm on my way, ok. I'll meet you there, just, stay put until I get there."
"What about your parents?" Sian had asked sobbing uncontrollably and unashamedly now.
"I'll call them on the way." Rosie had reassured her. "It'll be ok….you'll see."
"But Rosie…" Sian had begun to protest.
"She'll be ok," Rosie had said again, her tone even more determined than before. "I'll be there soon."
Once again, Sian had been left listening to a monotonous ringing in her ears, and once again, she stood numb, her body still firmly in shock. When she'd arrived at the hospital, Sian had immediately approached the reception desk, only to be told by the kindly secretary that she didn't have any news on Sophie's condition and that if she took a seat, someone would be out to see her shortly.
That had been 20 minutes ago, and now Sian sat alone in the hospital waiting room, her thoughts tormenting her with insidious images of Sophie plummeting from a tremendous height, her body lying crumpled on the hard concrete below, her eyes gazing blankly into nothing….
Sian shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the unwanted visions and looked back in the direction of the reception desk, her eyes instead meeting those of the Pastors, just as he appeared into the waiting area through the electric doors. He looked pale and shaken as she slowly stood up from where she'd been seated as he made his way toward her. Sian felt the nausea return in the pit of her stomach and her heart sank when he pointedly lowered his gaze away from her. She reached out a hand to steady herself, an oppressive weight pushing in on her, a haziness toying with her peripheral vision. Intuition and instinct told her just as much as the Pastors face did in that moment, if not more. The world as she knew it, her world, was about to change and it wasn't for the better.