Rising Star (18 page)

Chapter
30

I leave Adam taking care of my family. And it occurs to me, as I step away to call my band-mates, how amazing he’s been. Adam has truly been my rock.

I love this man. There’s no question.

I scan for Tammy’s number, vaguely wondering why she hasn’t rung me already. After a few rings it connects, and Tammy’s voice sounds, flat and lifeless.

“Hey Summer. Are you ok?”

“I… Yeah, I’m ok. It’s been better news,” I add, “The swelling in Ben’s brain has gone down. We’re all hopeful.”

“That’s great,” Tammy gives a sigh of relief.

“So…” I say tentatively, “how are
you
feeling?”

I can almost see Tammy’s weak smile.

“I’m ok.”

“Listen Tammy, it’s not the end for us,” I say, speaking quickly. “I don’t know how long I’ll be at the hospital or if…”

I can’t bring myself to say the words, so I change course.

“
When
Ben will be ok,” I correct myself, “but when he gets better we’ll sort something out. Adam says he’s got influence on the show and…”

“George has already decided to quit,” says Tammy flatly. “This was one set back too far for her. George
has got her trust fund now. She won’t go back to baked beans in a bedsit.”

The shock of this hits me with less force than it might. Ben’s illness is uppermost in my mind. Other disasters can wait.

“Shit,” I say, sympathising with Tammy.

All three of us have worked so hard. It feels like a betrayal for George to decide to leave so suddenly.

“She’s like a rat deserting a sinking ship,” says Tammy bitterly.

“Don’t say that,” I say quickly. “Maybe we can talk her round.”

“I’m not sure I’d want to,” says Tammy. “If that’s what her loyalty’s worth, we’re better off without her.”

Part of me agrees with Tammy. But I can also see George’s side. She’s just not used to camping in tiny rooms, and going without. George has been brought up to so much more.

“When I know everything is ok here, I’ll talk to her,” I promise. “Adam seems to think he might be able to sway things.”

“How?” says Tammy, hope registering in her voice.

“I don’t know,” I say, “but if it’s anything underhand, I’m not up for it. We do things properly or not at all.”

There’s a slight pause.

“I don’t see what he could do, if it wasn’t underhand,” Tammy says. “We got voted off. Although,” she adds, “the video didn’t turn out as bad as we thought. It was good actually. The dance worked really well with the music.”

I pass a hand over my forehead.

“I really can’t think about this right now,” I apologise. “I have to get back to Sam.”

“Of course,” says Tammy, instantly understanding. “Sorry Summer. None of this shit matters with Ben in hospital.”

“We’ll talk later,” I promise.

“Ok,” says Tammy. “Keep me updated. I need to know as soon as Ben opens his eyes.”

“Will do,” I say, smiling at her optimism. Mine is starting to flag.

I toy with my phone for a moment, wondering whether I should phone George.

Obligation wins out, and I dial her number. There’s no reply, so I try again, but still nothing.

Hmmmm
m.

George has the loudest ringtone on the planet. She always answers her phone. I guess she’s got a guilty conscience about leaving the band, and is avoiding my calls.

Oh well. I’ll worry about all this later.

My eyes drift back to Adam. He’s sitting close to my mum, and she’s showing him something on her mobile phone. It’s the happiest my mum has looked since we came to the hospital, and I feel a flash of love for Adam.

Smiling a little, I make my way back to the table.

“So,” says Adam, looking up. “Your mum is showing me your first ever power ballad.”

“Oh no,” I say, covering my mouth with embarrassment. I know the video he means. My mum recorded me at a school concert, aged seven, belting out a Celine Dion song.

“Mum. You didn’t?”

“You sound great,” says Adam, his eyes shining. “Like a little Britney.”

My eyes flick to the phone. I catch a glimpse of my seven-year-old self – hair in a scruffy ponytail, struggling to hold an adult microphone. I want to sink into the floor.

“Lucky I’ve got bigger things on my mind,” I murmur, slumping into the chair next to my mum. “Or I’d never forgive you for showing Adam that clip.”

“Don’t be silly Summer,” says my mum, eyeing her phone proudly. “You were the best little singer in all of Wales.”

“Uggh, stop,” I laugh, pushing her phone back into her bag.

“Did you speak to George and Tammy?” asks Adam, looking at me seriously.

“Um. Yeah,” I say. “Well. Tammy at least. We’re going to sort things out later,” I add, deciding not to air this last piece of bad news in front of my family.

Adam regards me.

“It will all be fine,” he says. “I’ll take care of things. You’ll see.”

For the rest of the day, the news about Ben gets better. The swelling continues to go down. And by lunchtime, the doctors are confident they can rule out brain damage.

With every fresh piece of news, Sam bursts into tears of relief. The mood is lifting now. We’re all cautiously hopeful. But Sam has moved to a new insistence that Ben can’t be left unattended. She’s terrified that he might wake up, and find himself all alone in hospital.

I’m worried about Sam. She looks so exhausted, and I know she’s hardly eaten a thing since the accident. But she won’t listen to any of our pleas to rest or eat.

At lunchtime, Adam insists we all go get food. Sam still doesn’t want to leave Ben. But something in Adam’s tone brooks no refusal.

“You need food,” Adam insists gently. “Summer and I will stay with Ben, in case he wakes up.”

Sam hesitates, then nods gratefully and lets my mother lead her away.

“How did you do that?” I ask, impressed. “No
-one can tell Sam what to do.”

“It’s in her best interest,” says Adam simply. “Why wouldn’t she do as I told her?”

I’ve got no answer to this, besides my sister’s legendary stubbornness.

We both look at Ben breathing gently.

“He looks better,” says Adam, holding my hand.

I gaze at my nephew. It’s true. He does look healthier than yesterday. His cheeks are pinker, and there’s more life about him.

“I just want him to wake up” I sigh. “I hate seeing him still like this.”

“He will,” says Adam, stroking my fingers.

“Adam…” I turn to him, uncertain how to say the words. “You’ve been so great.”

He smiles.

“Summer,” he says, “I love you. I’ll always be there for you.”

He loves me.

The words sing through my heart.

I smile at him.

“I love you too,” I say. “I love you so much.”

We sit, gazing at each other. Despite the sadness of our situation, knowing Adam loves me has lifted me up.

“I didn’t want this to be the time to tell you,” adds Adam, as if reading my thoughts. “But I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to tell you how I felt.”

Out of the corner of my eye I notice something. A movement.

Ben just moved!

“He moved!” I cry, jolting in my chair. “Did you see it?”

Adam turns to Ben, and we both watch as his little fist clenches and unclenches.

Joy surges through my heart.

“That’s what he always used to do!” I say, “As a baby! Just before he woke up, his fists clenched.”

I’m so excited I can barely contain myself. Ben’s about to wake up. I’m sure of it.

“It looks like he might be coming round,” says Adam, sounding almost as excited as me.

I eye the bed hopefully, but Ben seems to have settled back into rest.

“Maybe he’d wake up if Sam was here,” I decide. “We need to tell her,” I add, leaping from my chair.

“You go,” says Adam fondly. “I’ll wait here with him,” he adds, remembering my sister’s wish that Ben not be left alone.

“Ok,” I say, spinning on one foot slightly in my haste to tell Sam. “I’ll be straight back.”

I race down the corridors, sprinting for the canteen. I make it through the double doors, and scan the busy restaurant. Sam and my parents are in a morose huddle eating sandwiches. Quickly I make my way towards them.

“Summer?’ Sam’s face snaps towards me in alarm as I approach. “What’s the matter? Who’s looking after Ben?”

“Adam’s with Ben,” I reassure her. “But he moved. He
moved
Sam! I saw him.”

Sam’s face breaks into a huge smile.

“He did? Is he awake?”

“No. But his whole hand clenched and unclenched. Like when he was little, remember? He used to do that right before he woke up.”

Sam is on her feet, relief washing through her features.

“I need to see him,” she decides. “Maybe if he hears my voice…”

“That’s what I thought,” I say. “Come on.”

We fly back through the corridors, weaving past trolleys and nurses. But as soon as we enter the children’s ward, San’s excitement turns to fear. She turns to me and her face wobbles.

“What
if he’s not waking up,” she whispers. “Summer. I couldn’t stand it.”

“It’s ok Sam.” I take her hand in a reassuring grip.

“I haven’t been the best mother,” she admits, in a tearful voice. “Maybe this is my punishment…”

“You were young Sam,” I say determinedly. “You love your son more than anything. Everyone knows that.”

Sam is shaking her head.

“You were always more together than me Summer. You’ve got everything worked out.”

I shake my head.

“Hey!” I say, “Don’t talk that way. It’s not true Sam. We have different successes, that’s all.” I squeeze her hand, feeling closer to her than I have for a long time.

“And who’s to say I made such a big success,” I add. “My band got kicked off the show, and now George is leaving. She’s All That are history. But you’ll always have Ben.”

Sam considers this.

“You know what Summer, you’re right,” she says. “I will always have Ben.” She gives a little grin. “Until he’s a sulky teenager of course.”

I grin back, relieved at the lift of her mood.

“And Summer,” she adds. “I know I was never supportive of your singing. But you should go solo. Really. Those other girls… I know you’re a band. But they hold you back. You could do so much more, if you weren’t fitting your voice to theirs.”

I smile at her uncertainly.

This is the first time Sam has ever complimented my singing.

“Since when did you become a music coach?” I tease.

“Since my big sister stopped recognising her own talent.”

We both move towards Ben’s curtained bed, and I feel the tension rise in Sam’s body. As if she’s scared to see her boy again, wired up
in a hospital bed.

I clutch her hand tighter.

“You can do this,” I say. “We’re going to go in there, and your son will know you’re at his bedside. Ok?”

“Ok,” she breathes, leaning into me a little.

“Come on.” I pull her gently towards Ben’s curtained bed, feeling more than a little dread myself. Did we imagine the movement?

But as we reach the edge of the curtains we both hear a familiar sound.

It can’t be…

“Ben!” Sam’s shout echoes through the whole ward.

She tears back the curtain. And there, sitting up in bed as if it were completely normal, is Ben.

His little features are animated, and his tiny hand holds Adam. The two seem engrossed in conversation. They both turn to us in surprise as we come in.

“Adam has been teaching me a song,” explains Ben, matter-of-factly in his childish patter, as Sam and I stare in delighted amazement. “He says I’ve got a good voice.”

Sam’s smile falters, and she rushes forwards, grabbing her son in both arms. She crushes Ben to her body, sobbing.

“Ow!” says Ben good-naturedly. “Mummy you cuddle too tight!”

“He woke up just after you left,” explains Adam, as Sam releases Ben slightly. “I was singing him a little song about Ireland. The first thing he did, was try and join in.”

“You’re kidding,” I grin, my smile stretching wide. “He’s only just woken up, and you’re trying to snare him for the music business?”

“Get
’em while they’re young, that’s what I say,” grins Adam, pulling me into his arms. I rest against him, and in that moment of golden relief, the tears flow freely. Adam holds me, letting me vent all the fears and horrors of the last few days, into his strong body.