GrandpaBill took me into the house. My legs were like jelly and I couldn’t stop shaking and crying. He just held me for a while. I could feel that he was crying to. When we’d both calmed down he asked me if I’d eaten anything and I replied no and I didn’t want to eat now anyway. He gave me one of his ‘withering’ looks and told me to go and dress while he fixed me a sandwich and we would go to the hospital to see what was going on. I really imagined that I wouldn’t be allowed to go. I imagined that I’d be waiting at home while the adults all knew that was going on. I flew upstairs and dressed in double quick time. Looking in the mirror I was horrified with my face so I splashed on lots of cold water and combed my hair through. Splashing your face with cold water doesn’t help much. It just makes you look like you splashed your face with cold water.
GrandpaBill has always been a ‘busy’ person. I think that making my sandwich was good therapy for him. He’d made enough for an army, I don’t think he’s heard of snack machines in public places. Together we locked up the house, then we drove round to his house in dad’s car and locked up and got back into dad’s car for the drive to the hospital. Before we set off we both looked at one another. We didn’t know what we’d find when we got there.