Cold Water

The Arrangements

"How are you?"

Ant tried not to immediately bristle at the well-intentioned question. He was accustomed to Simon being brusque and efficient when it came to work calls. He could come across a little rude but Ant was long since used to the way he approached work; singly-focused and keen to skip the formalities. The immediate question when he picked up the phone was unexpected but hid another two or three unspoken ones, ones that Ant didn't feel like he could answer.

"Fine," he replied a little too wearily, unable to muster a mask when he didn't have the older man in front of him to perform for. The sterile walls of the hospital were too harsh a reminder of Stephen and when he thought of Stephen at the moment, Ant struggled to maintain an image of positivity.

"Are you and Declan going to have chance to rest in the next few days?"

Ant's back found the wall behind him and he slumped against it, for once wishing that the normal Simon could show up just to save them from talking politely before the inevitable argument. "We're trying."

"Any update on Stephen?"

"They're still keeping an eye on him," Ant said, looking down at his feet and fidgeting his shoes against the tiles, feeling as if he were lying even if he really wasn't. The doctor had said it would be another day before they could draw any conclusions. There had been something in her voice though, a pre-warning of what was to come; the threat of a real, concrete diagnosis that explained the stuttering and focus issues. "It's going to take some time to get him back on his feet. He's getting tired quite easily and two of the wounds down his right side went pretty deep. So, yeah – it's going to be slow progress for a little while."

"And the other problems?" Simon probed a little further, skirting around the very subject that Ant was wholeheartedly trying to avoid.

"He was in there a long time," Ant eventually replied, his throat already too tight. "It's still too early to say though."

"I wanted to talk to you about the next few days," Simon continued, almost as if Ant hadn't spoken. Ant got the impression that he didn't want to dwell on the accident or think too much about the direct consequences (Stephen in a hospital bed). A little selfishly, he wished he could detach himself from the situation enough to do the same. But it was Stephen. Stephen in a hospital bed. And Ant couldn't hope to stop himself from thinking about that.

"I don't think it's a good idea to carry on next week like nothing's happened," he replied levelly, wanting to get in first. "Me and Dec weren't on good form today. It was hard to concentrate, the crew is shaken up, the acts are confused. I don't see how it's best for anyone if we continue before we've regrouped."

"Logistically, it's already been a nightmare cancelling two days," Simon said in return. "Maybe we could stretch to postponing Tuesday as well but then we're going to have to get on with it."

Ant was preoccupied trying to calm his immediate rising anger, reminding himself that Simon was blunt – what he said wasn't always exactly what he meant – when the door behind him open and shut in short succession.

Dec appeared at his side, something unspoken in his eyes, a gleam of unhappiness. Ant tried to focus on the phone call, on Simon, and side-line his immediate concern for later.

"I just think the audience will be able to tell something isn't right," he admitted, pulling the phone from his ear and putting it on speaker for Dec's benefit. "We can act to some extent, Simon, but standing right there, knowing he's not on the other side of the stage... I don't know how we pretend to be okay with that."

"I know this is hard," Simon said, sounding about as sympathetic as Ant had ever heard, "But the schedule of the show depends on the auditions being completed by certain dates. And we need to be able to hire the venue for the days we'll need to catch up. There are only so many times in the next few weeks where we're able to do that."