Sam had been following Tom's path around the living room for the last half an hour. He had been pacing back and forth so much that Sam was half expecting a track to appear in the carpet. The expression on her face told Tom everything he needed to know about the mysterious phone calls he was making. She didn't like being out of the loop.
Tom had sworn that it was for her own good, and that what he had planned would help her regain her memory, but that was two days ago now and there was only so much daytime TV Sam could watch. Sure it had helped her to get up to date with current events and Tom's laptop had allowed her to research previous ones, but she was starting to feel around eighty years old every time 'Countdown' aired and sitting on the couch constantly was making her feel lazy. She wanted to get up and do something.
"…So we're all set, then. Everyone who can make it will be there?...Great...No, she's definitely up to this… Yes she is staying with me…Ok I have to go. See you in half an hour." Tom said as Sam gave him yet another death stare.
"Half an hour?" Sam enquired, reaching for her jacket hopefully.
"No, not you. Just me. I need to get a few things ready," Tom replied, and upon seeing her death stare become even darker added, "You'll be coming too later today. I promise."
"How much later? Sam enquired with narrowed eyes.
"Three or four hours. Maximum." Tom replied as he shrugged a jacket around his bad arm.
"Fine…" Sam said, staring at the TV with a haughty expression.
"See you soon."
"Bye." Sam called as the door closed.
…
"Three or four fours? Pfft." Sam muttered to herself after the eighth back to back episode of 'Countdown' aired.
Tom had now been gone for five hours. It was now late afternoon and Sam had taken to holding her phone, expecting it to ring or Tom to step back through the front door. She had long since given up searching for the remote, and so was forced to endure hours on end of what, even when she was young, was considered older person television.
She wondered if Tom was purposefully taking ages to engage his mystery plan, hoping leaving her stewing in his home would bring back a few memories, and then she checked herself. She had been stewing in a hospital bed for hours on end for the last few weeks and nothing had happened. Tom wasn't stupid enough to think that would work, and definitely not stupid enough to expect Sam to be perfectly happy when he got back. Maybe he was just trying to avoid her temper.
When her phone finally did ring at around the six hour mark, Sam was expecting to see Tom's name as the caller. She was in for a shock. Mark James.
Sam sat up a little straighter and mulled over answering it for a moment as a bizarre tune poured from the tiny speakers of what Tom had told her was an eye phone 4. Sam decide that answering it was the best idea, as it would stop that weird tune in its tracks and she would be able to find out what he wanted.
"Sam?" He called as soon as she picked up the phone.
"M-Mark James?" Sam stuttered after holding the phone awkwardly to her ear.
"How are you doing? One of the nurses here told me that you hit your head." He said in a conversational tone.
"I.. I'm fine I guess." Sam said, feigning calmness. Maybe if he thought she still remembered he'd tell her what she needed to know. "How are you?"
"I'm ok. The dust from the explosion damaged my lungs a little, though. Told you were should have got out sooner." He said a little sadly.
Sam's mind was reeling. What did he mean, got out a little sooner? Did they really set the bombs?
"Looks like you were right. We should have left sooner." She said as friendly a voice as she could muster.
"Looks like the chemical works though. Now we just have to get around to the other hospitals and finish sorting them out. I'm discharging myself when a nurse comes to see me. We can't wait."
"Y-yeah." Sam's said, her voice shaking. "Look, I.. I have to go. Bye."
Sam ended the call quickly, too shocked to speak. It was her. She had set out to blow up the hospital. With Mark James. And he was planning on blowing up more hospitals. She had to get to the police. Fast.
She stood up and shoved her phone in the pocket of her jacket before picket it up and slinging it around her shoulders. Her hands were shaking, so it took longer than normal to do up the zip and buttons. She stumbled towards the front door in a daze, and as soon as she placed a hand on it she hard a key being inserted into to the lock and backtracked.
Tom came face to face with a terrified looking Sam.
"What's happened?" He asked, rushing forwards and grabbing her shoulders.
…
*Eastenders theme song*
...Just kidding. I don't like Eastenders.