‘Tell you what, I quite fancy a bath myself after Henry’s finished. Do you think we could rig up that cover we used last time so I don’t get my cast wet?’
Peg almost laughed. ‘I’ll go and find a carrier bag,’ she said.
Henry really ought to get up. He’d slept for far longer than he had intended, but his body was warm and relaxed; another five minutes wouldn’t hurt.
He traced the series of fine lines on the ceiling, letting his eyes move from one to the other. He hated lying to Peg, but he wasn’t sure what else to do. Explaining about Mim would only complicate things, and he was having enough of a problem getting his feelings straight in his head as it was.
He wasn’t well yet, he knew that. It was a constant source of frustration that tasks which had come so easily to him before now felt utterly beyond his reach. And the truth was that he might never recover the good health he had enjoyed before; the doctors had warned him about that. But he’d been lucky. His lung seemed fine, and although his chest was still painful, if he moved slowly and breathed shallowly, it was tolerable. His ribs would heal in time, as would all the other cuts and bruises, and even the bleed in his brain hadn’t left him with the kind ofdamage it might have. But something was different, it must be. It was the only way he could explain how he was feeling.
He should be longing for everything to be as it was before his accident – missing his home, his belongings, his work, and yet, even though he felt as if he’d been lifted bodily from his old life and set down somewhere else entirely, he was far happier with this new situation than he should have been. His house and everything which made up the day-to-day living of his previous life seemed further and further away each day. And he didn’t miss them at all. He should feel uprooted. And restless. But he didn’t. He felt comfortable and at peace.
And there were things he wanted to talk to Peg about. Because he wanted to know how she was feeling. She was endlessly kind, and compassionate, and seemingly quite happy having him in her midst, but he still couldn’t work out how she truly felt. About him. Every time he mentioned the way they had met, or how lovely Christmas Day had been, even if he hadn’t actually spent it with her, she turned his comments gently away and held herself back from him. They could sit for hours of an evening, listening to the comforting tick of the clock, with a glass of mulled wine in their hands, watching the logs on the fire settle, the lamplight low, and barely speak. It felt…right…he could think of no other word for it. The silences were peaceful, companionable, just as he had remembered. Just as hethoughthe remembered.
With an audible groan, not of pain, but regret at having to move at all, Henry swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He didn’t want to be considered lazy, or even rude. He picked up the book he’d been reading before sleep claimed him, and carried it downstairs to the kitchen.
There was no sign of Mim, but Peg was still there, and now hard at work, scrubbing furiously at a metal shelf which lookedas if it had come from the oven. The Essie door was open so his assumption was probably right.
‘You look as if you’re doing penance for something,’ he remarked, putting the book down on the table.
Peg startled on hearing his voice, but swung around with a smile on her face. ‘I am,’ she said. ‘I’m doing penance for not having cleaned the oven sooner. It’s a mess.’ She swiped at a stray hair which had fallen across her face.
‘Can I help?’
‘Not with this,’ she replied. ‘I think you’ve done enough today.’ She visibly checked herself. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to tick you off like a small child. You look better for having had a sleep though.’
Henry passed a hand over his face, rubbing away the last of his tiredness. ‘I feel better. And thank you…for looking after me.’
Peg smiled, and turned back for a moment, rubbing at the tray. ‘You could peel some potatoes for dinner if you really want to do something. Or just sit and keep me company. There’s probably something I should tell you.’
‘Oh?’ said Henry, taking a seat.
‘Yes, I’ve been thinking. About quite a few things. And I also keep meaning to ask you whether you need to get anything from home. You haven’t got very much with you.’
Henry shrugged. ‘I probably should, but for the life of me I don’t know what.’
‘Well, clothes, or…maybe check for post? Or water your plants, that kind of thing?’
Henry thought for a moment, mentally walking through his house, checking everything the rooms contained. And although he could remember what was there, it was as if none of it belonged to him any longer. ‘Curiously, I seem to haveeverything I need,’ he replied. ‘Life seems a lot simpler at the moment.’
Peg stared at him. ‘Does it?’ She frowned and scrubbed some more at the oven shelf. ‘Oh well, let me know if you change your mind.’
‘Okay.’ Henry waited, but Peg didn’t seem in a rush to say anything else. ‘What was it you wanted to talk to me about?’ he prompted.
‘Oh…something you said in the garden this morning, which now suddenly makes more sense. About you wanting to move closer to Adam and Sofia. She came to see you today…’
‘Sofia did?’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Why would she want to see me?’
‘She made out at first that she was just checking how you were, but, as it turned out, what she really wanted was someone to talk to. She told me about Adam’s redundancy…’ She paused, staring at the dirty cloth in her hand. ‘And then…I kind of worked it out, but she told me how much she and Adam want a family. How her business isn’t what we think it is at all, and how so much of their life has evolved to hide the truth they don’t want to admit to. Both to themselves and everyone else.’ Peg looked distinctly uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry, none of it is my business, but I was here and…’ She licked her lips. ‘If Sofia were my daughter, I’d be devastated to know she’d been feeling the way she has. I couldn’t ignore what she told me, but it probably wasn’t my place to say anything.’
‘Peg, I’mgladyou know,’ said Henry, his eyes seeking out hers. ‘I didn’t say anything yesterday because I promised Adam I wouldn’t – not until he’d spoken to Sofia, but I can’t think of anyone I’d want to give advice more than you. More than me, even. I’m ashamed I didn’t know what had been going on in their lives. Not the redundancy, that’s come out of the blue, but everything else…’ He scratched at his chin, touched by thehumbleness of Peg’s words. ‘Adam and I had a good talk. Better than we have in a long while. But it made me realise how remiss I’ve been. I’ve taken a back seat in their lives because I was fearful of having difficult conversations, but they were important conversations and we should have had them. I intend to put that right.’
Peg smiled. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ she said. ‘From what I’ve seen, neither Adam nor Sofia have made that easy in the past, but perhaps now there’s a chance for things to be different. For them to see that the redundancy is not the ending they think it is, but instead an opportunity to start over, to make their future one they really want.’
‘You’re very good at this, aren’t you?’
Peg dipped her head. ‘Positive reframing,’ she said. ‘And I’m a master of it.’ She put down the oven tray, peering at it in disgust. ‘So I quite understand why you want to move. How did you get on this morning?’
Henry could feel his neck growing hot. ‘Okay, but…’
