‘Any luck?’ Doctor Twena hovers next to me. I trace the silver number buttons with my white fingertip. I know this number like it’s a tattoo on my arm but never call it.

‘He’s probably on exercise,’ I say, stabbing at the phone as I try again. It’s as if my fingers know what putting the numbers together will mean, slipping and sliding all over the place.

‘On exercise?’

My finger pinches as I pull the cord tighter. I’m sure I’ve heard them say that before.

‘He’s in the army. They do it all the time, don’t they? Exercise, training, the whole bit.’

‘Indeed,’ he says, leaning on to the wall next to me. ‘Perhaps there’s someone else you could call? Have you left a message?’

I ignore him, turning away as the ringing tone starts again. They won’t let me out of here without you, I’ll say. There’s less questions this way. I’ll beg, even. I can’t just leave her here, can I? It could be even worse—

‘Block 16, Second Lieutenant Black.’ I jump as the phone barks into my ear. ‘Hello?’131

‘Hi,’ I choke out, warm blood rushing into my fingertip as I yank it out of the cord and press it into my other ear. ‘I … I need to speak to Jason—’

The phone interrupts me: ‘Block 16, Second Lieutenant Black!’ I poke into my ear as hard as I can to stop myself pulling the cord out of the unit. It would be so easy, I think. Just cut the call and he’ll never know. But then…

‘Sergeant Jason Gates,’ I say, louder. ‘I need to speak to Sergeant Gates.’

I jump as there’s a burst of static, looping the cord back around my wrist till it stings.

‘Jase? Is that you?’

‘Block 16, Sergeant Gates,’ he says, low and clear.

I flinch. Even with the hospital crashing around us I know how furious he is.

‘It’s Kayleigh,’ I whisper, pulling hard on the phone cord. ‘I got home from the clinic and found her having a fit or something. She was burning, screaming, foam coming out of her mouth.’ I stop, gasping as I remember Kayleigh’s small body all red and twisting, like a fish in boiling water. ‘Jase? Are you still there?’

‘Block 16, Sergeant Gates,’ he mutters again.

‘They won’t let me take her home without you. I’ve tried everything, Jase, I swear. I’ve said I’m sixteen, that I’m grown-up, everything. But they saw the state of Ma when they came—’

‘You should have sorted it without them,’ he interrupts, hissing through the receiver. ‘You actually called a fucking ambulance. What did you think would happen? They’d forget about Ma in a pissed-up heap and some schoolgirl in charge of a baby? You should have left her to sweat it out, or whatever it was. She’d have been OK.’