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I drift into a picture of Mum driving a Red Bull F1 car on the Xbox. As in crashing at the corners because she’s crap at it.
‘…didn’t know where you were or what was happening, then I got that call. Gethin?’ Her worried face looks far away. ‘What on earth happened, Gethin? Why were you in Durness?’
‘Whoa, easy with the questions.’ I look beyond her to the window. The cloud has darkened and spread. I stare at it, trying to work things out.
‘They say you fell off the cliff in Durness, you were with a girl on a motorbike or something. I thought you were searching for Don, that’s what Emily said,’ Mum fills my head with gabble.
‘Will you shut up confusing me with the third degree.’ I bang my hand on the bed, my head vibrating. There was a girl: wide blue eyes, pouty mouth, lines of silver earrings. Who was she?
The nurse approaches. ‘Try not to get him too excited, Mrs Williams.’
Mum tenses up. I close my eyes.
Silver bulk on the ocean floor – swimming down to it but whenever I’m in touching distance it retreats – running out of breath give it one last push and grab at the handlebars – an old motorbike – but he’s pushing down on the seat, face behind the helmet screen, mouthing NO – blood banging roaring in my ears. Got to get to the surface, but I can’t let go of the bike. I tug and lunge to get away. Gasp at the air as I break through.
‘NO!’
‘It’s OK, Gethin. Gethin breathe!’
Mum squeezes my hand, face crumpled with worry. I take another breath and another.
‘You dropped off again. Had me worried for a second.’
‘I was underwater, I literally couldn’t breathe?’ I try to explain.
‘It’s the concussion, they say you just need to rest, you know?’
I try to pull myself up on the pillows. Mum rearranges them and I lean back. The people in the beds opposite all look half dead, as in, bandaged heads, tubes and dials. There’s a tube in my arm, leading to a drip.
‘They’re just rehydrating you; it’s going to be OK.’ She seems to catch my thoughts.
I shut my eyes, the image of his No-saying face still wavering ‘He’s not my father, is it?’
‘You found him! What did he say? Has he upset you?’
‘Mum, please!’ I pull my hand away, though I am strangely comforted by how she annoys me in all the usual ways.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve just been so anxious.’
I can hear the hurt in her voice, but I can’t relate to it. What is it about Don? Everything’s so far away.
‘I found him in Lochgillan. He’s got an old motorcycle museum, pretty sick place, like, really quirky…?’ I pause as an image of the museum starts to form.
‘Ah that’s great, Gethin. I don’t have an issue, you know…?’
‘He’s set up these scenes, like smiley motorbike families in the fifties and shit…?’ I trail off, an image of Jez standing next to me looking at the display.
‘Where’s Jez?’ I ask.
‘Does he have a daughter as well? The girl you were with in Durness?’
‘What the hell are you on about? Just shut up a minute, will you?’
She pulls back into hunched shoulders.
‘Has he got a daughter?’ I clutch at a thought just out of reach.
‘I only wondered about the girl,’ Mum says. Not helpful.
