It was barely six in the morning but that made it the perfect time to call Maman. It would be two in the afternoon in London and I knew she would be expecting to hear from me. Dad had called her from the inn whilst he was gone and I could see her viciously cutting at the stems of flowers in her anxiety and silently hoped she didn't ruin any of her fancy wedding orders on my account.
It felt like I had been in the hospital ages but, in reality, it was only the second day. Carlisle wanted to keep me in for a week, but I wasn't sure I could manage that. The ringing in my head had already passed – as long as I didn't try think of things too complicated – and though my chest still hurt with every breath I was managing with the pain meds and ice packs that the nurses kept bringing me. I didn't need to be in hospital for that. I knew from TV that American health care was expensive and I dreaded to think how much each minute was costing Dad for what would be free in England. I knew better than to mention that to him, I knew without seeing it exactly what look Dad would give me and I had no desire to upset him. I just hoped I could convince them to discharge me early. We would need to go home soon – Dad had struggled to move around enough things to get just over two weeks of work.
Jasper and Carlisle drifted across my mind. How would they affect our lives? Jasper seemed to want little do to with me or, at the very least, felt he couldn't be trusted to have anything to do with me. I wasn't getting my big brother back. But Carlisle seemed not to have the same chains. Chains were the were the only way I could describe the way I viewed Jasper; chained to stop himself doing something dreadful. My mind would not let me consider what horrendous thing he feared himself capable of.
The warm, lilting voice of my mother, complete with her French accent that never seemed to fade regardless of how long she lived in England, seemed to settle both me and Dad once over her initial worry. How she managed to fuss over me when on the phone I couldn't understand and I wondered if she was going to fly out now that I was injured. She made no mention of it though and my worries drifted away as she became assured of my safety. I loved her dearly, loved when all three of us were together. But I already had Dad hovering at my side, barely sleeping or touching his food. I couldn't watch them both do it.
Just as I hung up the phone, assuring Maman that I was well and we would be returning home as soon as possible, Esme knocked gently on the door frame of my room with Alice practically dancing at her heels. I watched the door; hopeful, as they entered, that Jasper would follow, even unwillingly, behind them but the door swung shut behind them and didn't reopen. I glanced up to see Esme watching me and she gave me a soft smile as though she knew exactly what I was doing. Perhaps she did, perhaps I was that obvious.
Alice flew towards me, her thin but strong arms wrapping themselves around me. I stiffened unsure of the tiny, cold stranger hugging me so tightly. She pulled back almost as quickly as she'd taken hold of me and I shook my head at her softly. I hadn't told Dad the reason for my fall and I didn't want to. She smiled at me: her eyes apologetic but curious. I could see she was studying me and wondered if she was looking for similarities between me and Jasper. She wouldn't find them – there was no blood relation there, no features to be shared.
I turned my attention to watch curiously as Esme approached Dad. He rose to meet her, probably not understanding who she was, and took the hand offered to him.
"I'm so pleased to meet you, Thomas," clearly, she had not been told that he preferred Tom but no one could doubt the sincerity of her words. Another weird meeting taking place before my eyes: meeting your stepson who was older than you. Though perhaps a more common meeting than Dad and Carlisle.
I watched Dad fumble for a minute, wrong footed by the lack of introduction mixed with his introverted nature. Then he smiled and I could see Esme soften further, charmed by him as everyone was.
"We brought you some coffee," Esme continued holding up the large flask that she was cradling in her hands. "I hope you drink coffee…I know you're English."
I laughed softly and saw Dad shoot me an amused look out the corner of his eyes. My dad without coffee was like an … Well, I couldn't think of an apt analogy. Suffice to say, he did not function well. I had learned long ago not to talk to him before he had coffee in his system – that he didn't communicate or even walk properly until he'd had it. Coffee had been his first port of call over the last two weeks.
"It's really appreciated, thank you," he took the offered flask softly and placed it on the table, "but I'm afraid I'm not sure who either of you are."
It was Esme's turned to laugh and I felt like I was looking upon a Disney princess, perhaps Snow White.
"My name's Esme, this is Alice," she gestured to where Alice had taken a seat at my side. "We met Emmelyn briefly the night of her fall – I'm Carlisle's wife."
I saw Dad instantly recoil and drop the hand he was about to offer out in greeting. Esme, to her credit, didn't stop smiling and turned to me, quite clearly to give him time to recover. She glided over and perched on the bed beside me.
"How are you feeling, dear?" she asked, a maternal look drifting across he face and dimples appearing in her cheeks. She looked like everything kind and good but positive emotions were not what overtook me as I looked into her golden eyes. Eyes that Alice had too. That Carlisle did instead of the same blue as me and Dad. That Jasper's coffee brown eyes had been. Suddenly I didn't care if Carlisle had told Dad anything.
I met Esme's eyes feeling determined and brave, "I want to see Jasper."
Esme's smile dropped and Alice learnt forward, placing a too cold hand on my arm.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Emmelyn," Alice's words came out guarded and honeyed. She sounded so pleasant, her voice ringing and bright, but I didn't trust the way she looked at me. I glared back at her smile. "He sent me instead."
The words were meant to be reassuring but their meaning was clear. Jasper didn't want to see me. He couldn't be trusted, he said, and from Alice's appearance I could only conclude that he was never going to see me again. That awful hug we shared the other day the last time I could touch him, the look of sorrow he gave me last night that last image I would have of him and his apology the last words.
Heat rushed over me and my fingers started tingling. Alice and Esme watched me in concern almost as though they could hear my suddenly racing heart, building up speed as though it was a race car on a track. Dad, who had stayed quiet until now, watching the conversation with narrowed eyes, rushed towards me. Each gasping breath I took struck me like knives but brought no solace, no oxygen. Was I dying? Going insane? Dad's arms wrapped round me, and I slumped against him. He hushed me softly, brushing at tears I was unaware of streaming down my face. I was shaking, I realised, but the more I tried to stop the more I cried. I was sobbing. I was drowning – stuck just beneath the water with nothing below me and no way to get back. Dad drifted away from me even though he didn't move and I couldn't follow. Couldn't move, couldn't breathe. A strange sound escaped me, erupted without my control, somewhere between a sob and a gasp. Something tightened around me and I threw my arms wide trying to free myself. Too close. Too tight. I needed space. I needed to breath!