The Fourth Side of the Triangle

Chapter 13.

13.

There are so many types of falling.

You fall for the thrill- to feel the adrenalin pumping through your veins; the moment where your stomach flips and your heart misses a beat before you tip over the edge of a rollercoaster, knowing it is too late to turn back.

Then there’s the type of fall that is associated more often than not with young children. When they suddenly believe they have the ability to fly, to throw themselves off furniture, landings, stairs. Such falls normally end up with broken bones and trips to A&E; the moment where the child realises that they cannot sprout wings as the ground comes up fast to meet them often brings out shrieks of terror that cause parents to come running, knowing before the reach the room that injury is inevitable.

And then, there is falling in love. The type of falling that can bring so much pain and so much pleasure in mere moments. This can be a journey- a journey of wonder, of heartbreak- so much of it is unpredictable and it keeps you on your toes.

But there is also another type of falling. The type where it feels like the world has been pulled from beneath your feet, or like you have taken a running jump off the side of a cliff, falling towards rocky canyons with no parachute. The type of falling that hits you hard, leaving you in a state of numb shock, so that for a few, blissful seconds you think that life if just playing a joke on you; that someone will turn around and shout, ‘got you!’

But it never happens and you just keep falling, and the seconds tick by. When it all comes back to you, you can only open your mouth to speak; speech that is slurred and stuttered due to the tears that have suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

With this type of falling, you have to force yourself to calm down as you think of what to do. Mostly, you call someone close to you, as your heart and your world shatters, hating the fact that you have to be the one to break the news that will tear others apart; as it has torn you.

Amabelle is no different. Tears fall from her eyes as she picks up the phone, finding it almost impossible to force out a greeting. When it is her turn to speak, her turn to cause heartbreak and panic, she can barely form the words.

She is only human, after all.

-x-

At first, Oliver thinks it is about the baby. She is so hysterical that he can’t understand what she’s saying and he has to wait until she has calmed down enough to say,

“Amy, I can’t understand you. The reception is really bad as well.”

He can hear sobbing and fear grips at him like an iron vice. He has never heard anybody so distressed or upset and he knows that something is very, very wrong.

“Aims,” he says slowly, “is it something to do with the baby? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

He is in France and was in the shower when he heard his phone ringing. He had stumbled out of the steamy bathroom and picked up his phone just as it rang for the last time. Now, his hands are shaking as he shoves on an old tracksuit and t-shirt that have been lying at the bottom of his case for the past week.

“I need you,” is all that he can decipher through the sobs and it does nothing to calm him down.

“Amy... I’m in France... please tell me what’s wrong. Where’s James? Can you get him over?”

“Oliver...” he hears his girlfriend sob, “I need you. Please come home.”

“Amabelle, calm down and just tell me what has happened. Becca said that stress wasn’t good for you now-”