Page 116 of Christmas Every Day
Frances was dying. Her own cells were turning on her, wreaking destruction and chaos. She had appeared so frail in recent weeks, as though a fit of coughing could shatter her into pieces. But we had underestimated quite how a stubborn mind, unshakable spirit and three decades of hauling haybales, sledgehammering fence posts and dealing with unruly cows could overrule a disease, telling it, ‘No, you can’t, and don’t you dare.’
Like Lazarus from the tomb, Frances groped and fumbled and would not quit until she lay in a brown muddy heap on solid ground.
‘He’sgotto carry her now,’ Kiko said.
Or not, apparently. Jamie bent down, one hand on Frances’ back, hopefully checking she was still breathing, then waited another endless three minutes until she hauled herself first onto all fours, and then upright.
‘Come on, Jamie,’ Ellen urged. ‘At least take the woman’s arm. Hold her hand.’
But no. Jamie walked with Frances, didn’t take his eyes off her, but didn’t offer so much as a finger as she hobbled, shuffled, dragged and carried the proud body that had taken her through a lifetime of challenges and adventures over the finish line, Lucille careening past a few seconds later.
I was too darn relieved to be crying. But I might have been the only one who wasn’t.
We hurried over, wrapping Frances in a blanket along with so many hugs she grew irritated and ordered us to stop. ‘Well, Iwouldsay I told you so.’ She smirked. ‘But it isn’t very gracious.’
‘Frances, you nearly gave us a stroke,’ Ashley cried.
‘Well, you should have more faith, then.’
‘Is that it, now?’ Ellen asked. ‘Are you finally done with all these challenges?’
Frances tried to pull up a corner of the blanket to wipe a streak of mud off her cheek, but her arm couldn’t quite manage it. Ellen gently patted her face clean with a tissue, taking hold of Frances’ hand when she’d finished.
Frances closed her eyes. ‘Yes. Just one adventure left. The big one I’ve been waiting for. I’m ready.’
40
With Frances safely in bed, I hurried back through the woods to the Common, where the rest of the club were enjoying a post-Muck celebration.
Sarah dragged me into the kitchen the second I arrived. ‘I don’t know what to do. I’m totally freaking out. I can’t evenlookat him. How did I never clock how hot he was before?’
‘Maybe it was the shorts?’
‘No! Not his looks! Him carrying Frances round that course was about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.’ Her eyes grew round. ‘He’s lovely!’
‘There’s no need to look so horrified about it.’
‘But I feel really we-e-e-e-eird.’ She buried her head on my shoulder. ‘We’re friends now. What if I say something stupid and ruin it?’
‘I genuinely think that’s impossible.’
‘What if I go on a date with Jamie and then HeartBaker comes back with a brilliant explanation and I have to choose between them?’
‘Who would you choose?’
She groaned. ‘I dunno.’
‘Well, you need to decide. Jamie deserves better than you dating him with one eye on your inbox.’
‘ARGH!’ She picked up a wooden spoon and threw it across the kitchen where it clattered into a tower of saucepans. Three seconds later Jamie burst in.
‘Everything okay?’
Sarah gaped. They both turned red in sync, which looked so cute it was ridiculous.
‘Um, actually, Sarah, I wanted to talk to you.’ Jamie stuck his hands in his jean pockets. I would have sidled out but he was blocking the doorway.
‘Ungh?’ she mumbled.
