Mum took the tortured tea towel from my grip and held my hands in her warm sudsy fingers. ‘Yes to the latter, no to the former.’
Her eyes were bright as they met mine. ‘You’re one of life’s natural-born fixers, Lexi – when you see a problem, you’re compelled to sort it. And you love your sister. There’s a bond the two of you share that’s stronger than your dad and I could ever understand. She’d walk through fire for you, and I know you’d do the same for her.’
Unexpectedly, I found myself crying. Tears were running down my cheeks and I made no effort to wipe them away.
‘If you really believe this madcap thing you’re doing with this man is the right way to help Amelia, then I have to trust your judgement. You know her heart better than I do.’
There was a huge lump in my throat that was making it almost impossible to swallow.
Mum smiled gently and there was love and trust on her face. ‘Just make sure that whatever you’re doing with your friend Nick, you’re doing for the right reasons.’
*
My friend Nick. My mother’s words followed me as I climbed back up the stairs and jumped into the shower. I turned the water up to its highest temperature – having finally solved the conundrum of the boiler – and stayed under the jets until my skin turned the colour of a lobster. Nick wasn’t my friend, not really. I hardly knew anything about him. But isn’t that the way it goes with a new friendship, I reasoned, playing devil’s advocate with myself. You meet someone. You connect with them on whatever level and then you get to know them better. Little by little. But could you really be friends with someone when the only reason they’re in your life is because they look like someone else? Even though Mum had unofficially given my plan her blessing, was I guilty of callously using Nick? The thought made me shiver, despite the heat of my shower.
My phone was sitting on top of my bed, waiting for me to return its last missed call. And yet still I hesitated.
*
In the end, it was the sound of Mum busily vacuuming the lounge that had me dialling Nick’s number. Having changed Amelia’s heart medication once again, the doctors felt confident that, with careful monitoring, she could be discharged from hospital as early as the beginning of next week. The news sent us into panic mode: Mum’s mission was to get the house as sterile as an operating theatre, while mine was to complete the memory box of photographs in a little over a week.
Determination made me swallow down my nerves and find the courage to place the call.
‘Ah, good morning. You’re awake now, are you?’ It was the second time today I’d been greeted with that comment, but Nick’s words left me more flustered than Mum’s had.
‘Yes. I’m so sorry I missed your phone call and that I was still asleep when you came round. I wish you’d asked Mum to wake me. I feel terrible that you had a wasted journey.’
I could hear the smile in his voice. ‘Don’t worry about it. Mabel appreciated the extra-long walk, and it was good to meet your mum. Although I don’t usually do the “meet the parent” thing this early in the dating process.’
He was teasing me, I knew that, but it was impossible not to rise to the bait.
‘Don’t forget, it’s justpretenddating, Clark,’ I reminded him.
His laugh was low and warm, and I liked the way our private joke showed no signs of getting old just yet.
‘The reason I was trying to get in touch,’ said Nick, ‘was to let you know that I’ve managed to line up a couple of horses for our next date.’ My gulp was way noisier than I’d intended. It travelled with perfect clarity down the phone line. ‘Thatwasthe plan, wasn’t it?’ he queried uncertainly. ‘You wanted to recreate Amelia and Sam’s sunset horseback ride?’
‘Yes. I did. I do. That’s great,’ I said, hoping he couldn’t hear that my enthusiasm was about as real as our relationship.
‘The horses belong to a farmer friend of mine. The one you’ll be riding is owned by his thirteen-year-old daughter and it’s really docile.’
‘Docile is good.’
‘You’ll be absolutely fine,’ Nick assured me, hearing the nerves in my voice. ‘I won’t let anything terrible happen to you.’
‘I’m going to hold you to that,’ I said as I reached for a notepad to scribble down the address of his friend’s farm.
*
We agreed to meet at six that evening, a full hour before the sun was due to set. I spent most of the drive trying to guess how many times I was likely to fall off during a sixty-minute period. Riding wasn’t my thing; it never had been. Amelia had been the typical horse-mad teenager in our family, while I’d been far more obsessed with books and boy bands. The closest I’d got to an interest in horses had been my Jilly Cooper obsession.
Now that Mum knew what I was doing, it had been easier to swap our usual hospital visiting slots. I was even hopeful that if we finished our ride early enough, and all my bones were still intact, I might have time to make the end of the evening session.
My heart began beating faster the moment I spotted the signpost for the farm. I was clearly more nervous about getting on a horse than I’d realised, I thought, as I swung my car down the farm’s long dirt-packed driveway.
I certainly looked the part though, with my oldest, comfiest jeans and a thick flannel checked shirt that I’d found in the back of Amelia’s wardrobe. She hadn’t specifically mentioned what she’d been wearing on the day she and Sam had gone riding, but I figured that anyone whose Spotify playlist consisted almost entirely of country music would probably have favoured a cowboy look.
It was only when I pulled into the yard that I began to question my choice of outfit. This was no dude ranch, the kind my American friends always raved about; this was a real working farm and I probably looked just this side of ridiculous. I quickly pulled off the bandana scarf that I’d tied around my neck, but there was nothing to be done about the shirt or the cowboy boots.
