Page 20 of The Art of Loving You

We chatted for several minutes until Angela brought the paperwork.

‘Here you go, lovely.’ She pressed a sheet of paper into Jack’s hand. ‘Here’s what to do. What not to do. Keep yourself dosed up with painkillers. Don’t suffer. The district nurse, Maggie, will drop in every day and check your dressing. I’ve given her your mobile number as a contact, Libby. Any concerns in the meantime, the phone number of the ward is here.’ She pointed. ‘Give us a ring any time. And look after each other. I would say keep your clothes on but—’

‘It’s our anniversary this weekend,’ I blurted out as though that would constitute us getting naked.

‘I hope you’ll have a more romantic meal than … What was it? Peanut butter and banana on crackers.’

‘Hey!’ Jack said. ‘Don’t—’

‘Knock it til you’ve tried it.’ Angela shook her head. ‘Go on. Get away with you both.’

Michael drove us home.

‘Do you want to come in and see our new place?’ I asked Faith and Michael as they dropped us off, secretly hoping they would say no.

‘It’s okay,’ Michael said. ‘We saw it when we unloaded the van. We’ll give you two some alone time.’

Faith twisted around in her seat. For a split second it seemed like she wanted to say something else. She glanced at me before her eyes shifted back to Jack. There was an expression on her face I couldn’t read, a silent question, but Jack was already climbing out of the car.

By the time we went to bed it was raining, the rhythm comforting against our windowpanes. Yesterday, without Jack, the bed had been Papa-bear-big but now it was Mama-bear-just-right.

Jack winced as he turned onto his side. ‘I’m not sure I’m up to taking Sid his pork pie tomorrow.’

‘He’s not expecting you. You can always call him. That reminds me, I still have your phone in my bag. Do you want me to get it?’

‘No. I … it’s awful isn’t it? The thought of … him … the mugger touching …’ Jack began to cry. It was unexpected. Distressing. Something I rarely saw. I wrapped my arms around him, wishing I could absorb his pain. It was heartbreaking but, I hoped, ultimately healing, the dark of the room allowing him to feel all of the things he’d tried to suppress.

‘I was so scared, Libs.’ His voice was muffled. His mouth pressed against my hair.

‘Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay. Try not to think about it.’ But now he’d mentioned it I couldn’t think of anything else.

I slipped my hand inside Jack’s T-shirt, feeling his heart thudding underneath my palm.

The warmth.

Those fingers of the mugger, icy and still. Fingers that had touched Jack’s things.

I decided that I’d buy Jack a new wallet and mobile as soon as possible but until then I’d leave his where they were.

But keeping his phone turned out to be a big mistake.

Huge.

Chapter Seven

The overhead lights were harsh and bright, the corridor endless. Rockets of pain fired up my shins as my feet pounded against the hard floor.

Jack.

I pushed my way through another double door. On the wall, in big bold letters, A & E and an arrow pointing forwards. I increased my speed.

Jack.

There was no one else here but me. No one to ask for help.

Again, a door. I shouldered my way through it. Another sign for A & E but this time the arrow pointed back to the direction I had come from.

Jack.

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