Page 67 of The Wish

Alex slumps against the wall, clutching his helmet. Kelly comes around the desk, reaching for his arm. He pulls away, too upset. ‘I’ve got to go,’ he says, and pushes past her, making his way down the corridor and beyond the receptionist. He stops at the lift. One sign stands out: 6EAST.

Ignoring the lifts and the dozens of people waiting, he sees the door indicating the stairwell and runs to it. Level 1. Level 2. Level 3. He continues up, bursting through the door onto Level 6.

Slowing his breathing he walks through the automatic doors and to the nurses’ station. ‘Is Sandy available?’

‘Hi, Alex, she’s in her office. I’ll call her and see if she’s free.’

Moments later, he’s ushered inside.

‘Sit down, Alex, how can I help?’ Sandy asks him as he closes the door behind him.

‘I need to do something.’

‘If this is about Jesse, I can’t—’

‘How do I get tested? For bone marrow compatibility?’

‘You want to be tested?’

‘I have the right blood group. Just . . . tell me how.’

Sandy pauses and looks at him. He can see her making a decision. What have they got to lose?

‘OK. You need a mouth swab and a blood test.’

‘Yes, I know that, but how do I do that?’

Sandy regards Alex thoughtfully. Then, reaching into a drawer, she places a pad on her desk.

‘If you’re serious . . .’

‘I’m serious.’

‘OK. I can write a request, and you can take it down to pathology on the ground floor. I’ll have the result sent to me. Oh dear, this is highly unusual. I’m meant to do this for patients. You’re not a patient.’

‘I don’t want to get you into trouble.’

Sandy writes on the pad. Tearing the page out she hands it to Alex.

‘I’ve marked it urgent; I should get the results in a couple of hours. Give me your phone number and I’ll call you. That’s all I can do.’

‘Thank you, Sandy, thank you so much. Ground floor, huh?’

‘Pathology, plenty of signs.’

Alex takes the pathology form and hurries from the room, down the stairs to the ground floor, scanning the sign boards until he finds the Pathology Department. The wait is not long. No questions are asked. He thanks the technician and leaves the department.

Outside in the car park, he walks right past his bike. A car screeches to a stop as he steps into the road.

‘Hey, are you OK?’ a stranger asks.

Alex blinks, slowly coming back to himself. ‘Yeah. I’m good.’

He doubles back, finds his motorbike, and sits on it. Cradles his helmet before slamming it against the engine. Once. Twice. Three times.

A couple in a nearby car stare. He ignores them.

He slides on the helmet, starts the engine and drives away.