I let out a snort. ‘It might be that for you. I’ve had five brothers and sisters teasing me incessantly from when I was born until they left home, and every time I’ve seen them since.’ Big noisy families aren’t always the jolly places they seem from the outside. Ours is loving and supportive, and obviously I wouldn’t swap it for the world. But the older ones always ripped the shit out of me, and there were so many of them ahead of me, even if four of them laid off, there would always be one left to make fun of me. At school I didn’t have many friends because I was mostly enjoying the quiet, and the same at uni.
I blow out a breath. ‘My sisters are all so sorted and grown up and professional and weighty with kids and relationships. And they all have their stellar careers, and their intellectual pursuits.’ It’s not just Charlie. Bella’s a therapist for bereaved children, Zoe is an art historian for the National bloody Trust, Laura is a top epidemiologist, Jo does behavioural psychology. And their children are all amazing too. ‘They try to be nice but they all look down on me for being trivial and insubstantial, because compared to them, I am! That’s why it was so important for me to succeed, even though what I achieved was worthless compared to them.’
Ross’s look is a mix of anxious and searching. ‘But you were excelling yourself, at the top of your field. Surely that’s what counts?’ He frowns. ‘In any case, you’re the Hobsons, you’re legendary, I just assumed you’d all share everything.’
I let out a groan. ‘This was why I wassodesperate for no one to find out when it all began to unravel. And why Ihadto cover up how much I was floundering here.I always hide my fails from them!’
He props his foot up on the bottom rail of the fence, and looks at me sideways. ‘But what about with the baby? I know we agreed not to tell Charlie, but surely the others supported you with that?’
I’m appalled we’ve got onto this again. ‘I couldn’t possibly tell them what a mess I’d made there!’ I’m not talking about the pregnancy here; two minutes after I saw the lines on the test I’d already fallen in love with the idea. And I knew all the family would be the same. The biggest blunder was letting it happen with someone who wasn’t interested in sharing it. And then that I lost it.
There’s a sudden pain in his eyes. ‘Of course, I should have known. But when things are really tough, sharing can be helpful.’
Looking back, if I had already told them they’d all have been as devastated as I was when I lost the baby. When they were already in pieces about Charlie losing Faye, I’m so pleased I saved them that.
In any case, something else strikes me. ‘You can’t tell me off for keeping things to myself. You’re not exactly famous foryourover-sharing.’ As for bringing this back to the present, he doesn’t have a clue about losing what’s important. ‘Do you have any idea how helpless you feel when you lose everything you’ve ever worked for?’
His shoulders are bumping mine as he grasps the tube of the scaffold pole fence. ‘I get what you’ve been through, I fully appreciate how awful it feels.’
This ismystuff-up; him pretending he understands only diminishes it. ‘It’s lovely of you to empathise, but you can’t have the first clue unless you’ve lived it.’ But now I’ve made my point, I need to show him I’ll turn things around, however that may be. ‘Things will pick up; in a couple of months, I’ll be fine. But I’d rather people didn’t know until I’m there.’
Beside me Ross’s sigh is so big his shoulders visibly drop. ‘I wish I could be as optimistic for my own future – but I can’t.’
As the meaning of his words sink in, I feel my heart stop in my chest. ‘Hang on! Ross,what is it?’
His voice has sunk to a husky drawl. ‘I’m not being kind. I’m living the same nightmare you are. And whatever I hoped, there’s no way back for me.’ He’s pushed back off the fence, and he’s holding out his fists, stretching and clenching his fingers. ‘I came down here to take time to recuperate, but nothing is improving.’
‘Your hands!’
He’s closed his eyes, and he’s shaking his head. ‘It wasn’t even heroic – I slipped on a mud run, ripped my fingers on some buried barbed wire. There’s nerve damage on both and I can barely feel a thing.’
My stomach has turned to stone. ‘But touch is vital for a surgeon – how can you operate without it?’
He pulls a face. ‘It’s quite simple –I can’t.’ He’s kicking at the rough tufts of grass sprouting between the cobbles of the yard. ‘At the surgery the younger staff cover for me. You saw me with Pancake, I couldn’t have taken a blood sample from her to save my life. I’m overseeing things here to give myself a chance to get better. In Scotland there’s an internationally renowned orthopaedic practice I’ve spent my whole career creating, a team of colleagues all waiting for me to get my act together. And every day I’m here, not there, I’m failing all of them too.’
‘But time by the sea can only be good.’ Even as I say it, I know it’s meaningless.
He gives a cough. ‘Expecting to get better was asking for a miracle. But every day that passes without the feeling in my fingers coming back is a day closer to me being finished. My life as I know it could well be over.’
My mouth is dry as the enormity of his disaster seeps in. But he told me before, he doesn’t want pity. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I’m playing for time. Helping Walter for as long as he needs me. And when that’s done, I could be heading for a desk job and winding down to an early retirement.’
I let out a cry. ‘We’re on High Hopes Hill. You can’t give up that easily.’ However much he hurt me, I’d never wish this on him. ‘I’m sorry, Ross.’ I reach out and squeeze the back of his hand. ‘However bad it is, I’m here for you.’
‘I’ve got more tests coming up, but I’m bracing myself for the worst. And right now the future looming ahead of me is like a huge black hole.’ And this is Ross all over. He’s brilliantly clever and obsessed with facts, but he doesn’t have the capacity to dream. He can’t see beyond this to imagine any kind of silver lining. He turns and gives me a grimace. ‘You can’t deny it, we’re both in the shit here.’
Except that’s not true. Compared to him, my challenges are non-existent. I’ll pull myself together and move on to the next thing. If I’m really lucky, I’ll maybe even sneak back to doing what I used to do. Whereas his suffering is real, because there may be no way back.
‘How about showing me how to make calves behave? And then I need to find where the chickens hide the eggs.’ It’s the last thing I feel like doing, but if he’s marching round bossing me about, it may take his mind off the rest.
He gives a shrug. ‘You could take a few selfies with the animals. I can see a country version of Cressy Cupcake going down well with your followers.’
I’m not sure we need to go that far, but I’ll go with it if it keeps him occupied. ‘And I could make some of that high-octane brownie once we go home?’
He’s gazing at me through half-closed eyes. ‘That’s the sticky one you describe in your blog as the closest you’ll get to a chocolate orgasm?’
‘Something like that.’Crap crap crap.When I write this stuff it’s not meant to come back and bite me on the bum. Obviously I had no idea Ross bloody Bradbury would ever set eyes on it, less still that he’d quote it back at me.
