20
We’d walked down this same corridor every day for the last six weeks, but this afternoon there was a lightness to our steps that hadn’t been there before. Mum had got to the hospital first but had chosen to wait for me in the foyer. It was as though we both felt a curious need to re-enact that first night when we’d hurried to Amelia’s bedside, when her fate still hung in the balance.
It certainly felt much easier to breathe this time around as we rode the lift to the ward than it had on that first dreadful night. The nursing staff greeted us by name or with cheery waves as we walked towards the room that would soon be occupied by another patient.
‘Well, don’t you look nice,’ Amelia said as I slipped off my coat and threw it over the back of a chair.
Mum, who’d claimed her regular seat on Amelia’s left side, looked across the hospital bed with a puzzled expression. ‘Youdolook very smart, sweetheart. Is that a new dress?’
‘Uh-huh,’ I murmured, bending down to drop a kiss on Amelia’s cheek. I should have known I wasn’t off the hook when I saw my sister’s nose twitch like a rabbit’s.
‘So, what’s the special occasion?’
‘There isn’t one. Apart from celebrating the fact that you’re coming home tomorrow, of course.’
Amelia wriggled herself higher against the pile of hospital pillows and shook her head. ‘No, that’s not it. You’ve tonged your hair, done something different with your eye make-up,andyou’re wearing your favourite perfume.’
Her heart might not be functioning as it should, but there was clearly nothing wrong with her powers of observation. She was totally wasted as an accountant; she’d have made a great detective.
She flapped her hand in my direction, to encompass the soft wool dress with its deep V neckline. ‘That’s not how you usually dress when you visit me. You’re normally much scruffier than this.’
I took my usual seat on the opposite side of the bed and tried to laugh off her scrutiny, which was starting to make me feel uncomfortable.
‘How rude.’
Mum would probably have let it drop there, but not Amelia. She was as relentless as a Canadian Mountie.
‘Okay, okay,’ I said, when I realised she wasn’t going to let it go. ‘I’m meeting an old friend for a drink when I leave here.’
A little late in the game, Mum finally realised where I was going, but by now Amelia’s interest was piqued. She nodded encouragingly for me to continue. ‘More, please,’ she asked, like Oliver holding up his empty bowl. ‘I’m starved of anything remotely juicy in here.’
‘Thereisno more,’ I said firmly. ‘And what there is, is far from juicy. I happened to bump into someone I knew in the supermarket the other day and we said we’d catch up over a drink.’ It was a loose version of the truth, and I should have left it there, but when you’re not very good at lying, there’s always the temptation to over-embellish. ‘It’s their birthday tomorrow, so we’re celebrating that.’
Amelia’s face took on the familiar wistful expression it wore whenever anything reminded her of Sam. Her eyes met mine, and I knew she was thinking about the night he’d allegedly surprised her on her doorstep with a cake alight with candles. It was the reason there was currently a bakery box, two packets of candles and some matches on the back seat of Amelia’s car. Tonight’s event would be the final one that I’d recreate for the memory box of photographs. It would have been nice to have included the ‘kiss in the rain’ scene fromThe Notebook, but the weather had remained annoyingly dry. Perhaps that was just as well, because I still wasn’t entirely sure whose benefit that photograph would have been for: Amelia’s or mine.
‘Does this man – I’m assuming it’s a man – have a name?’
‘Nick,’ I said, diving into the bag I’d brought with me and withdrawing a bottle of champagne. I hadn’t intended to produce it so soon, but I was desperate for a diversion. ‘Do you think we’ll be in trouble if we have a sneaky glass of this?’ I asked, pulling three plastic champagne flutes from the bag.
‘I’m willing to risk it,’ Amelia declared, already holding out her glass as I popped the cork as quietly as I could.
Happily, somewhere between the toasts to getting out of hospital and a life free of bedpans and commodes, my plans for the latter part of the night were forgotten.
*
It was eight o’clock, and Nick had assured me that evening surgery at The Willows would be over by the time I arrived. But when I pulled into the practice’s car park, I realised he was still working. Through the reception window I could see him talking to an elderly man, who I assumed was a client.
I had one hand on the car’s door handle, but I stopped short of pulling the lever. There was something about the way Nick was standing as he spoke to the older man that kept me in my seat. Despite the fact I hadn’t known him for long, I found Nick’s body language as easy to read as the pages of a familiar book. Whatever he and the other man were discussing, it looked serious, and definitely shouldn’t be interrupted by an intrusive outsider – especially one bearing an enormous birthday cake with enough candles to set off a smoke alarm.
I watched as Nick laid his hand briefly on the old man’s shoulder and saw the man’s head droop a little lower. Without knowing why, I shivered. The two men walked slowly to the surgery doors. Nick held them open as the old man shuffled out, leaning heavily on a walking stick. Around his other hand was a lead belonging to a dog who looked every bit as frail and aged as its owner.
Transfixed, I remained in my darkened car and watched as the two men and the dog made their way slowly towards the only other vehicle in the customer car park. I was glad I’d parked in the shadows beneath the sprawling branches of a tree, because the scene playing out in front of me looked private and painful, in every sense of the word. The old man’s gait was stiff, but his dog’s was even worse. Before the trio were even halfway across the car park, Nick bent down and gently scooped the animal into his arms. The dog lifted its head worriedly and I saw Nick’s lips move, presumably giving the animal some words of comfort.
The client unlocked his car and Nick bent low to set the dog gently on the back seat. By the time he’d straightened up, the old man had extracted his wallet. Nick shook his head firmly and once again laid a hand on the other man’s shoulder. This time I was close enough to see the dog’s owner was crying… and I wasn’t far behind him. This was a story that could only have one ending.
I didn’t get out of my car straightaway when the old man drove off. And I wasn’t the only one not to move. Nick remained motionless for several minutes in the middle of the car park, simply staring into the darkness. He moved only when he heard the click of my car door opening, turning towards me as I crossed the space between us. He was standing in a pool of light from a security lamp and my steps faltered for a moment when I saw the unusually bright glisten of his eyes. He looked sad and a little defeated, and the impulse to run to him and throw my arms around him was so strong, it took genuine restraint to continue walking in slow and steady strides towards him.
I greeted him with a hesitant, ‘Hey, you.’
