Chapter 2.

Mum wasn't happy about my request. She kept quiet through much of the next day, not telling me anything. It was driving me mad.

"I thought you'd moved on from that crush years ago. Why on earth do you want to see him now?" she said while I ate my hospital chocolate pudding.

"I told you. I need to talk to him." I said.

"But why?"

"I can't explain it, Mum. I can hardly do it myself, can I? I'm practically chained to this bed."

"I'll have to run this by your father…"

"No! No, you can't. He'll ruin everything. You can't say a word – promise me, Mum."

"All right, all right. I won't tell him. But you can hardly expect me to go barging into your old school demanding to see this Mr Raxberry without a proper reason. Come on Prue, help me out. Why do you really want to see him?"

I rolled the chocolate round my mouth, thinking of a legitimate reason.

"I don't want to die with regrets."

Mum's face changed then. I knew I'd got through to her.

For the rest of the afternoon I read my old treasured copy of Jane Eyre while Grace kept me company. Her phone buzzed every couple of minutes with messages from her friends, so she wasn't bored. Dad was working in the shop all day. Mum had gone. She didn't tell Grace or Dad about her little errand from me.

My heart beat faster than usual in anticipation. I didn't even know if she'd be able to find Rax. He probably didn't even work at Wentworth anymore. But I had to try. I couldn't stop thinking about him. I ended up waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

My patience wasn't rewarded. Two days later I caught an infection and Mum wouldn't leave my side. She still hadn't gone to Wentworth. It was so frustrating because I could hardly speak.

"Please… Mum… get Rax," I croaked between coughs. I sounded terrible.

"Yes, dear. As soon as you're better." she said, wiping my forehead with a cold flannel. I started crying then, more out of frustration than anything else. I didn't care about the infection. I was just angry that it stopped Mum from going to Wentworth to find Rax. Inside I was screaming. I clutched my chest, my heart aching. I sobbed harder, sensing nearby patients watching me. I cried myself to sleep that night.

When I woke the next morning, I was alone. No Mum, no Dad. Grace was at school. In all honesty I was glad – I could read and think in peace, without being disturbed. I must have slept in late, because there was a bowl of congealed porridge by my bedside. I ate the banana next to it, flipping to my favourite passage of Jane Eyre.

A couple of hours slipped by, and that's when it hit me. Loneliness. I felt my lip wobbling, tears stinging my eyes. Where was everyone? Even the nurse asked me where my family was. I simply shrugged. When the clock hit four o'clock I asked for a cup of tea. I held the steaming mug to my lips – and froze.

Someone stood in the doorway, looking round the room. A young man wearing black jeans, canvas boots and a denim jacket. And then he saw me.

It was Rax.