Page 79 of Love, Accidentally

Great. So far today I’ve had to engineer a way to reassure Will that Australian Audrey doesn’t have designs on his dad, learned far more than I ever wanted to about remote-controlled helicopters, nearly frozen to death, and had amazing sex that my family don’t seem to think even slightly inappropriate to discuss in considerable detail. And now, to top it all, I’m supposed to persuade Will and Jonathan to stick their heads in the lion’s den that is my entire family at Christmas. With a sigh, I pick up my phone again and start to type out a message to Will, before I remember that probably isn’t the best thing to do. I need to get better at this, I scold myself as I call him instead.

‘Hiya, are you OK?’ His voice has an edge of concern to it that I wasn’t expecting.

‘Yes, why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Lots of reasons. Nearly catching hypothermia, second thoughts about me…’

‘I’m not having second thoughts. Quite the opposite, actually.’ As I say this, a realisation hits me hard in the gut. ‘I’m missing you, actually,’ I tell him.

‘I’m missing you too.’

‘Do you think your dad would mind if you came back here for the night? You could always tell him I’m scared of the dark or something.’

He laughs. ‘Dad’s on such a high after today that I don’t think he’d notice if I was here or not. Turns out one of the other guys at flying club took a load of footage of Audrey and uploaded it to YouTube. He and Bernard are practically going through it frame by frame.’

‘And Australian Audrey?’

‘Is flying out tomorrow, so she’s gone back to the hotel where she’s staying. I liked her, actually. I’m sure we’ll see her next time she’s over.’

‘Have you said anything to your dad about you and me?’

‘I haven’t really had a chance. Why?’

‘You probably ought to know that I suspect my family are choosing wedding outfits as we speak.’

His laugh is a bark of pure joy, and it stirs something in me. ‘They might be a little ahead of the game, but maybe one day…’

‘Don’t encourage them,’ I warn. ‘You’ll only start a feeding frenzy. Thinking of which, what are your plans for Christmas?’

‘I don’t think we’ve got any. Why?’

‘I think I’d better explain that when you get here.’

‘I’m on my way.’

When I hang up the phone, I surprise myself by doing something I don’t think I’ve done since I was a teenager. It’s a little dance of pure joy.

32

How can it be February already? Christmas feels like a long-distant memory, but don’t they say that time flies when you’re having fun? And Will is a lot of fun. Not just in the bedroom, although that side of things is very satisfactory indeed, thank you. No, it’s more than that. It’s his zest for life, the way his eyes sparkle when something amuses him. It’s?—

‘Tilly.’ Dr Patel’s voice rattles me out of my Will-inspired daydream and I focus back on the patient’s notes that I’m updating on the system. ‘There’s a patient in bay three I want you to look at. Sexual injury. You know how they give me the ick.’

I look up and she rolls her eyes at me.

‘Honestly,’ she continues. ‘Why can’t these people find less revolting hobbies, like knitting or something?’

‘Knitting can be pretty dangerous,’ I remind her. ‘Remember that guy whose wife shoved a needle in his eye after he criticised the scarf she made him for Christmas?’

She shudders. ‘All right. You have a point. I still don’t like sexual injuries though. They make me feel grubby.’

I smile. ‘Have you got the notes?’

‘Yup.’ She hands me a sheaf of papers and I have a scan through. Something about the name looks familiar, but I’m struggling to place it.

‘I think we’ve seen this guy before,’ I say to Dr Patel as I enter his details on the computer and click to search. Sure enough, an entry comes up.

‘Got him. Maurice Waters.’ I study the entry. ‘He was the one with the washer on his penis, do you remember?’

---