Josh unfolded himself now from the chair that looked far too small and uncomfortable for the length of his limbs.
‘How long have I been asleep?’ I asked, not liking how disoriented and vulnerable I felt.
‘About four hours,’ he replied. ‘How’s your head? Any dizziness? Do you feel sick?’ He sounded like a doctor, but he looked more like a lumberjack in the fleece check shirt and black jeans he’d changed into while I slept. He could have stepped straight out of a poster for the Canadian Tourism Board.
I tested my head, moving it cautiously from side to side and gave a grateful sigh when the pain remained in the ‘manageable’ sector.
‘Better,’ I replied. ‘See. I told you it wasn’t a concussion.’
‘That’s precisely what someone with a concussion would say,’ Josh replied, spinning me back to hundreds of infuriating squabbles when we’d each fought to get the last word in. Thankfully life with Adam had never been that volatile or competitive.
‘I still think sitting there watching someone sleep is creepy.’
Josh shrugged off my words.
‘How’s the ankle?’ he asked, changing the subject.
I looked down at the pile of pillows on top of which my left foot was resting. Nervously, I flexed my ankle. It still wasn’t right, but the inferno of pain had been tamped down to a low smoulder.
‘Well, I won’t be tap-dancing for a while,’ I joked, ‘but I should be able to walk on it.’
‘Sure,’ Josh agreed equably, covering the width of the bedroom in two easy strides. ‘In a few days.’
‘I can’t sit around on my backside for a few days,’ I immediately protested.
He cocked his head, looking so much like teenage Josh, I lost my train of thought.
‘Got somewhere else to be?’
As if I needed reminding, his gaze went to the curtainless window and the snow-covered clearing beyond.
‘Anywhere but here,’ I said, frustration making me unreasonable.
Josh shot me a look at my childish response. To be fair, Iwasacting like an irrational pre-schooler.
Josh gave an immensely annoying chuckle. ‘I thought I’d remembered everything about you, but I’d forgotten what a pain in the arse you can be when you’re hungry. I’m going to heat up some soup for you.’
I would have protested, but just the mention of food made my very empty stomach rumble like a freight train.
‘I might be a tad peckish,’ I conceded, telling myself the warm glow I felt was due to the prospect of food rather than a remembered echo from the past.
I flopped back against the pillows as soon as he left, wondering if he realised how much he’d inadvertently given away with his parting words.
‘Iknewyou hadn’t forgotten everything,’ I whispered triumphantly in the shadowy room. ‘And if your recollection goes back that far, then I’m sure you remember exactly what Adam sent me here to find out.’
I managed most of the bowl of minestrone before the second round of painkillers Josh had insisted upon kicked in. One minute the spoon was in my hand, and the next I heard it clatter back on to the bowl. Fingers rough with calluses were gentle as they released my hold on the tray and lifted it from my legs.
It felt like an old dream as I was eased back on to the pillows and the heavy comforter was tucked beneath my chin. As I teetered on the edge of sleep, I lifted my face, waiting. Before turning out the light, Adam would always kiss me goodnight and then run the pad of his thumb lightly over my cheekbone. My lips parted inreadiness, but they didn’t feel the touch of another’s. And yet as I loosened my grip on reality and fell into slumber, there it was: the lightest of grazes across my cheek.
‘Goodnight, Adam,’ I mumbled sleepily.
There was no reply.
Chapter Eighteen
Eleven Years Earlier
‘Have you ever been in love?’
