Amy stilled; she hadn’t known what she was expecting him to tell her, but it hadn’t been something as personal that. She waited to see if he wanted to say more.
‘It was a medical oversight, ananomaly.’ He took another prolonged breath. ‘They weren’t expecting someone so young to have the kind of illness Honor had, so they didn’t check for it. Until it was too late.’
‘Oh God. I’m so sorry,’ she said.
Tad’s smile was gentle, but it was there. ‘Thank you. She couldn’t possibly have known how enormous the hole would be that she’d leave behind; she was such a wee lass. I used to tell her she’d get blown away in a strong wind.’
The undercurrent of humour was unexpected, but unmistakable, and Amy allowed herself to smile too. Tad glanced across, his smile broadening. ‘It’s taken a long time to be able to talk about her and smile at the same time.’
‘I can only imagine,’ Amy said. She almost told him how the loss of her nanna – even at the age of seventy-three – had ripped a hole in Amy’s world, but this was Tad’s moment.
‘I used to call her small but mighty, because she was incredibly tough – until she wasn’t.’ The smile faltered, then he shook off the momentary flicker of sadness. ‘I did my best to be tough myself, afterwards. It didn’t work so well, and I visited some dark places. But with help I got through the worst of it, and now I can look at views like this and smile again.’
‘She sounds very special.’
‘She was.’ Tad tapped the side of his head. ‘And although she’ll always be up here, and in here—’ he patted his chest, roughly where his heart lay behind his ribs ‘—it’s also time to move forwards. I realise I am moving forwards, at last.’
Amy swallowed a sudden ball of emotion that had lodged in her throat, doing her best to squash the desire to take his hand. Maybe the way he’d opened up about how much he had valued a past relationship should have Amy backing off, but it was having the opposite effect.
She wanted someone to feel the strength of emotion for her that Tad had felt for Honor. Either Honor had been an exceptional woman, or Tad was willing to offer the right person the kind of love and loyalty Amy hadn’t yet experienced.
‘Shall we go a bit further along this trail?’ Tad asked.
‘That sounds like a plan. Although I suppose we probably shouldn’t leave Hugh for too long.’ Amy took a breath. ‘Actually, that reminds me – he mentioned something weird when we initially saw you up here. He said it was difficult to spot you amongst all the other Italians. But he’s got that wrong, hasn’t he? You’re Scottish. You said so. Didn’t you?’
Tad shrugged. ‘Does it matter where I’m from?’
Amy frowned. Of course it didn’t, but it had seemed as though Hugh had mentioned it on purpose. ‘No. I just wondered.’
‘I consider myself Scottish – that’s where I grew up. But he’s right in a way. My Mum’s Italian.Mie scuse, signora. Io sono Taddeo.’
‘Taddeo?’ Amy repeated the name, without any of the flair Tad had used – his switch from a broad Scottish accent into a full-blown Italian one was scrambling Amy’s head.
‘Mamma named me Taddeo – it got shortened to Tad as soon as I started school – all the other kids took the micky out of my weird name – and then Tad stuck.’
‘I like Taddeo.’
‘Dad wanted to name me Hamish, but he left when I was five, so I guess I’m glad Mamma got her way with my name, at least.’
Amy nodded. ‘My dad left, too.’
‘It leaves the kind of hole you can’t make sense of until you’re older, I think,’ he said.
‘If then.’ Amy frowned, then changed it up before the conversation became any more maudlin. ‘What does Taddeo mean?’
Tad rolled his eyes. ‘Gift from God. It doesn’t get much cornier than that, does it?’
Amy laughed, but it was mostly in order to stop herself from telling him she thought it sounded perfect, that she liked it very much. Then she scrunched her brows together as she tried to work out which bit of her was misbehaving the most, her wayward thoughts about him or the complicated acrobatics currently taking place in her belly.
Perhaps if they got moving again, she could walk off the fizzing feeling that threatened to envelop her.
‘Shall we walk on until we get to the next ridge, then go back?’
She turned to strike out along the track, only to find herself directly in the flight path of a group of fast-moving mountain bikers. All she saw was a blur of movement as she felt the shove from the impact – someone’s lowered shoulder, or protruding elbow. It could have been the edge of a handlebar, she supposed, and it wasn’t hard enough to knock her over, but it was still a shock.
A hand grabbed at her wrist as she spun around, another steadying her shoulder as she stumbled away from the path, a series of loud Scottish sounding swear words ricocheting their way over her head as Tad pulled her close. She overbalanced again, this time towards him, ending up crushed against his chest.
‘Are you OK?’ His words reverberated through his body to reach her ear, and a reflexive inward breath had her breathing in the mix of washing powder and body spray lingering on his thin fleece top.
