Saturday afternoon and Max had usually called her by now, or at least texted, especially when they’d just spent a night together. It was like they couldn’t stop thinking about each other. She wanted to thank him for the chocolate ‘I Love You’ message, so tried his mobile a couple of times. It seemed like it was dead, the battery down or something. Oh well, he must just be busy at work. She’d speak to him soon. Her happy loved-up bubble couldn’t be burst that easily.

47

‘Hello, is that Emma? Max says you are a friend.’

It was late on the same Saturday afternoon.

The voice was of a middle-aged, well-spoken woman. It sounded far too formal, and for some reason the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck rose and she felt a cold prickle run through her.

‘Yes, this is Emma speaking. Is everything all right?’ She noticed her hands had started to tremble holding the mobile phone.

‘Well, he’s had a bit of an accident at the building site.’ The woman paused, seemingly gathering herself. ‘He’s serious but stable in hospital in Newcastle. They have to do some CT scans before we know more. He asked me to call you, to let you know.’

Oh dear God, no. ‘What’s happened?’

‘He fell off the scaffolding early this morning; one of his colleagues found him in a bit of mess, maybe an hour or so later. We’re not quite sure. The doctors say he’s broken his collarbone and cracked some ribs, but they need to check his brain …’ The phone line went quiet for a few seconds, then Emma thought she heard a stifled sob, followed by a slow breath. ‘They think he hit his head, though thank the lord he did have his hard hat on.’

Thank heavens for the yellow helmets.

‘Oh …’ Em’s throat was starting to thicken with the knot of threatening tears. Dread filled her soul. Please, dear God, not again. ‘Can I see him?’

‘I think it’s best the doctors do what they need to today, and it’s close family only at this stage. Sorry … I’m his mother, by the way, Christine. Shall I speak with you tomorrow, Emma? Maybe you can pop down another day, when we know more.’

‘Of course. And thank you for letting me know.’

‘You’re welcome, dear.’

‘Can you tell him I’m thinking of him, and to get well soon.’ Emma just about held it together, to say goodbye.

‘Yes. I’ll keep in touch.’

As soon as she clicked the phone off, Emma crumpled in a heap on her living-room floor, the tears flowing uncontrollably.