Page 16 of The Art of Loving You

‘Would you risk her wrath, if it were the other way round?’

‘God no. She’s terrifying.’ He flashed a brief smile.

‘So …’ I took his hand. ‘You said, “will you”.’

‘It’ll wait. We have a lifetime together, Libs. Five years on Sunday.’ He looked at me so tenderly.

‘Five years.’ I couldn’t wait for the rest of our lives.

‘It’s eight o’clock.’ The hostile nurse had returned and was looking pointedly at her watch. ‘Time for you to leave.’

‘But … Can’t I sleep here? In the chair?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘Go home and get some rest, Libby,’ Jack said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

Grudgingly, I kissed him goodbye, feeling the nurse’s eyes burn into my back. I was still wondering what he wanted to ask me as my reluctant feet trudged out of the ward.

Before I jumped in a taxi I rang the care home.

‘It’s ten past eight,’ I was told indignantly. ‘Most of our residents are beginning to wind down before bed.’

‘Please. It’s important.’

It took Sid an age to reach the phone and when he did I told him what had happened. ‘I’m sorry but Jack won’t make it in on Saturday now.’ Every weekend we took Sid a pork pie from the butchers he liked. ‘But I wanted to let you know he’s okay.’

‘Libby, you’llbothbe okay.’ For once Sid didn’t crack a joke.

‘I hope so. Thanks, Sid.’ My voice was barely audible, the words stuck behind the lump in my throat.

We both knew that I’d called not to reassure him, but because talking to him reassured me. Jack and I both loved our surrogate grandfather who thought we looked after him when really it was he who took care of us. ‘Everything will be all right.’

There was a pause. Sid’s rasping breath. My own troubled thoughts loud inside my mind. ‘What if … What if this changes him somehow, Sid?’ I couldn’t have voiced this to anyone else. It felt wrong. Selfish. ‘What if Jack realises how close to death he was and he wants … more?’

‘Develops an urge to travel, chucks his things into a rucksack and disappears halfway around the world?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Then you’ll be by his side, Elizabeth, sharing the adventure, taking glorious photos, and—’

‘You’ll be—’ I began

‘Look forward to your postcards. I can’t see it though, duck, really. Can you? He’d never get a decent cup of tea.’

The mood lighter, Sid told me to go home and get some rest.

I took one last lingering look at the hospital.

Jack.

I whispered his name. Feeling the shape of it on my tongue. Wondering if he was asleep again. If he was dreaming of me.

Home.

Where the heart is. Though my heart was here, with him.

Today, despite everything that has happened between then and now, my heart is still with Jack.

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