He rested his forehead on hers and they stood in the doorway, the small creaks and sighs of the building settling for the night around them, like comforting ghosts.
Pulling him in, she closed the door and led him to the bed.
‘Stay with me,’ she said. ‘Just hold me.’
He lifted a hand and stroked along her cheekbones and kissed her gently on the mouth, one hand resting with a featherlight touch on her thigh. Although she wanted his comfort, that touch sent a tiny electric current of awareness.
‘I’ll hold you,’ he whispered. ‘Always.’ Her heart turned a slow, weighted somersault in her chest. How had she fallen in love with him? At the same time, how could she not?
She slipped off her jeans and padded in her thick socks to the bathroom to clean her teeth. When she came back, Luke was lying on the far side of the bed on top of the bedclothes, the cover on her side turned back in waiting. She ignored it and climbed onto the bed, where he held out an arm. She lay next to him on her side as he pulled her into his chest.
‘You’ll get cold,’ he whispered.
She didn’t care, she wanted to be close to him. Hooking one leg over his, she nestled in closer. ‘You’ll keep me warm.’
They lay in the golden glow of the bedside lamp, their breathing quiet, Luke rubbing soothing strokes up and down her neck, as if trying to massage her to sleep, but now she was in bed, her brain didn’t want to shut down.
‘I hope she’s going to be OK,’ she murmured as much to reassure herself as to seek reassurance.
‘The human body is an amazing thing, but the human spirit, human resilience, is far greater. Amelie won’t give up. Sometimes it’s about temperament.’
‘You sound as if you know a lot about it,’ said Mina, surprised. Luke hadn’t struck her as particularly spiritual before, always so positive and practical.
‘I do.’ The pause, weighted with significance, seemed to hang heavy in the night air. ‘I spent a lot of time in hospital. When I was nineteen I was very… ill.’ Mina heard the import in the word. ‘You see a lot from a hospital bed when you’re there for that long.’
Mina swallowed. She had the sense that he was steeling himself to say more and she didn’t want to be that person shaking things loose when they might be better left unsaid.
‘You learn who’s going to die and who isn’t.’
Awareness prickled and ran across her skin at the soft words. She spread her hand out across his chest, her fingers splaying across his ribs under his T-shirt as if to anchor him to her. It seemed impossible to imagine Luke as anything other than vibrant, strong, and energetic.
‘That sounds tough.’
She felt his shoulders shrug. ‘Other people lost, I survived. I’m still here.’ He let out a mirthless laugh. ‘Sorry, I bottled it at the hospital. I had leukaemia. Two years of treatment. Too many memories. I hate the bloody places. It’s the first time I’ve been in one for… a while. It’s triggered a lot of emotions that I thought I’d got over.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It made me who I am now – although I hate anyone else saying that to me, as if they’re trying to find a positive or make a virtue of having had a blood cancer. There are no positives. It’s shit. Or rather, it was shit and now I’m through the other side. But those two years were the worst of my life – not so much for me, but for my parents, my sister, my cousins, grandparents, friends. Watching them suffer. Bloody shit. I never want to put anyone through that again. You can bear it for yourself. You know if you stick with the treatment, there might be some let-up for your body at some stage. You stand to gain, but it’s a sod watching other people going through it. My mum always trying not to cry. My dad trying not to let her see him cry. My sister crying and feeling guilty that she was crying. That grief, fear – it screws everyone up. I’d have done anything for them not to have suffered like that.’
She laid a hand on his chest, wanting to comfort him. The raw pain in his voice moving her to silent tears. ‘It must have been tough for all of you. I had no idea. Are you OK now?’
‘If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you. I don’t normally talk about it. It’s only because of today…’
‘Then thank you for coming with me. It made a difference.’ She kissed him on the neck, appreciating that he really didn’t want to talk about it anymore, her lips pressing into the pulse flickering there.
He nodded and pulled her closer, and she shivered a little as goose bumps rose on her legs.
‘You’re cold, you should get under the cover.’
‘Only if you do.’
He turned onto his side and his eyes swept her face before locking onto hers. She stared back at him. Without saying anything he slipped off the bed, removed his trousers, and slid back under the covers. She joined him under the heavy feather duvet, feeling it settle, cocooning the pair of them as one. Her bare legs touched the soft silkiness of the hair on his legs and every nerve-ending pinged to attention. She slipped a hand around his waist, her fingers brushing the warm skin under his T-shirt.
He turned and kissed her forehead. ‘Go to sleep.’
‘I’m not sure I can. My brain keeps darting off in different directions. What will I cook for dinner? When will Amelie be home? What happens if it keeps snowing?’
He huffed out a laugh. ‘Count sheep.’
