Chapter Twenty Four
It was the day when everything began to feel just a little bit better.
For the first time since my fall, I managed to successfully cross the bedroom without relying on the crutch Josh had made for me, and without wobbling.
The weather was finally beginning to improve. Beyond the curtainless window, sunlight was bouncing so brightly off the snow I’d have slipped on sunglasses – if I’d thought to pack them. The boughs of the surrounding trees were still heavy with frost, but with the morning sun glinting through the branches, they no longer looked oppressive. The raw beauty of the forest where Josh had made his home had never been so clear.
But perhaps the biggest improvement of all was the change occurring between Josh and me. I was beginning to hope we could find a plateau for our fractured friendship, somewhere it could quietly mend. Perhaps it might never be as strong as it had once been, but at least it was moving in the right direction, away from the horrendous words we’d hurled like weapons in that awful row six years ago. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t still uncomfortable silences and pockets of tension. There were moments when I could swear Josh’s eyes were on me, but when I lifted my head to meet hisgaze, he was always looking the other way. Something occasionally arced between us that had no voice, no words, but it fizzed through the air, as dangerous as a lightning strike. Thankfully we were both sensible enough to ignore it.
One thing that hadn’t improved, however, was the phone signal. No matter how many times I checked – and I checked a lot – the screen on my mobile remained obstinately devoid of the symbol I’d always taken for granted.
From the bathroom came a steady drumbeat of water, which meant Josh was still in the shower. On impulse I decided to surprise him by making breakfast. It was only fair seeing as he’d spent the last thirty-six hours waiting on me hand and foot.
As I reached for my crutch, which was lying across the bed, a beam of sunlight speared through the window, casting a spotlight on the underside of the armpiece. I ran my fingertips over a series of tiny gouges I’d never noticed before. Dismissing the strange markings, I swung the crutch from the bed like a baton twirler in a marching band. In slow motion I saw it sail through the air and begin its downward descent ... straight towards a large ceramic lamp on Josh’s bedside table. I was already wincing before I heard the resounding crash of the lamp connecting with the hard wooden floor. The sound was eclipsed only by my cry of dismay.
The lamp had the look of something people turn up with onAntiques Roadshowand discover it’s worth a fortune.Please don’t be valuable, I silently prayed.
The sound of feet running – no, pounding – down the corridor tore my eyes from the shattered lamp. Josh didn’t pause to knock, he just burst through the bedroom door as though the cabin was on fire.
He seemed momentarily startled to find me still upright. His worried gaze then travelled to the floor, where the evidence of my clumsiness was scattered like ceramic roadkill.
I’m sure if he hadn’t been practically naked and still covered in droplets of water from the shower, I would have led with an apology for breaking yet another of his possessions, but it was hard to concentrate when rivulets of water were running down the planes of his toned stomach before disappearing into the fabric of a hugely inadequate hand towel that sat like a sarong on his hips. It took a second or two for me to look further north to see how his chest was rising and falling, as though he’d run some distance to reach me. As it was only a small cabin, I assumed that anxiety was the cause.
‘Jesus, Lily, I thought you’d fallen over again.’
I swallowed, uncomfortably aware that I’d not been this close to a practically naked man for some considerable time.
‘Erm, no. I try to only fall over spectacularlyonceper visit.’
It was clearly too soon for humour because he didn’t even crack a smile.
‘I thought I was going to find you in another pool of blood on the floor.’
It seemed the wrong moment to remind him that actually it hadneverbeen blood, just raspberry jam. He really did look very disconcerted.
‘I’m sorry, Josh. I’m afraid I’ve had a bit of a mishap with your lamp.’
‘Screw the lamp. It’s you I was worried about.’
Interesting.
He was slowly decompressing; I could see that by the way his stomach muscles were no longer clenched in a rigid washboard formation.
‘I’ll pay for it, obviously,’ I said, before thinking to ask, ‘Was it expensive?’ Too late, I realised those questions should probably have been in reverse order.
‘It’s just some old Ming thing that’s been in my family for generations,’ he said casually. I was still so wrong-footed, it took longer than it should have done to realise he was winding me up.
‘It’s not an antique at all, is it?’
At last, finally, he smiled. ‘No, Lily, it’s not. And you know my family history better than anyone. Foster kids don’t usually come with valuable family heirlooms.’
I bit my lip. Sorry for so many things, not least of which was making him remember a past he always tried so hard to forget. But that was Josh. That was what he did. When something hurt him, he deliberately chose to erase every trace of it from his life.
‘I’ll get the broom,’ Josh said, turning way too fast for a man wearing such a skimpy towel. I tried not to look, but I was only human, and it was very hard not to. I cleared my throat, because my mouth was suddenly very, very dry.
‘Erm, why don’t I do that, while you go and get amuchbigger towel,’ I said, my eyes dropping pointedly below his navel and then instantly darting away as I caught another glimpse of something I was never meant to see.
To his credit, Josh handled the awkward moment far better than I did. He reached for the towel and cinched it more firmly into place.
