Behind the Screen (a Tom Hiddleston Story)

22. Saying Goodbye

It was midnight when they eventually arrived at the hospital.

"Where would he be?" Kate was panicking now as she frantically searched the overhead signs for the emergency department.

"I'll ask," Tom held a tight grip on her hand as they ran to the main reception desk. "Hello love, my girlfriend's dad's apparently been in a car accident? Do you-"

"You must be Kate and Tom? I'm Jackie and I've been told that your dads through there." She stood up from her chair sending it flying across the floor behind her, knocking the folders across the floor.

"Oh god, Nick's gonna kill me." her nervous laughter had Kate suddenly wanting to run very far away from her as 'Jackie's' persona wasn't exactly helping. Sure, she could have been the nicest human on the planet but right now Kate had bigger problems than worrying about another person's mishaps.

"Okay, thank you, darling." Tom smiled and sped off trying to keep up with Kate who was now a blur of black and brown; her hair and dress flowing behind her.

"Kate slow down or you'll" before he could finish his sentence a nurse wearing all blue had backed into the corridor as she pulled along a trolley full of medication and bandages. Kate hadn't seen her as she turned herself around to face Tom, her legs twisted over the lady's sending the trolley and her scrambling across the floor.

She had just about had enough. As she lay there covered in pills and a nurse she wondered whether her night could get any worse.

"Come on Kate," He heaved her up from under her arms, apologized to the lady who they made sure had a hand up before they went off to find her family. They looked around the next few corners when Tom had suddenly pulled her back jolting her shoulder in the process.

"I'm here for you whatever happens, okay?"

"Okay," Taking his hand and squeezing it as she tried to conjure the courage to see her once again weakened family, but nothing Tom did could have prepared her for what awaited her.

Chris was stood at the end of the bed holding Jane in his arms. Her mother was sat by her father's bedside, her eyes red and blotchy and hands shaking slightly as she caressed her husband's rigid fingers.

"Kate! Tom! Sorry for the phone call, I should have let Jane talk for me. Sorry for... you know." Chris let go of Jane and replaced his fiancé with his sister; hugging her tight as though life depended on it.

"That's alright." She sniffed into his roll neck jumper trying to stifle her crying; she never did like crying in front of family. "So, what's happening? How's he doing?" She turned in Chris' arms feeling Tom's hand rub her arm in an effort to comforting her. As she twisted her head, she caught a glimpse of her fathers face.

Once, a long time ago way back when she was still in nappies, her dad had taken the time to sit and talk to her. It wasn't exactly a long conversation filled with happiness and comical comebacks as she couldn't exactly reply not being learned in the magical art of speech at two years old and everything. But somehow she could remember parts of it, fragments yes but they were there. Always there. Whenever she felt down or just wanted to smile she would replay those moments in her head as though they were yesterday.

His famous one-liners were what made her life a better place. Not comedy one-liners. They were more life advice tips concealed in letters and metaphors that when written on a bit of scrap paper or in a book lost some of their beauty. they were never meant to be written, only thought or spoken.

"You know my darling. When I'm old and grey and on my death bed and you're having the best time of your life with your new family, promise me you'll remember this." Kate had gurgled a little as even at two years old she could sense her dad was being more serious and less playful as he stopped shoveling mashed up potato into her mouth. "It doesn't matter what you look like, how much money someone earns or what kind of area they live in. What matters is what's inside that counts."