Page 27 of The Art of Loving You

If anyone had peered through the window what would they have seen? A man leaning heavily on his girlfriend for support? A room full of hope and plans for the future? A couple at the start of a new adventure? I’m not sure how anyone would have interpreted the scene, but love. I think they’d have seen love.

If I could have frozen one moment in time, it would have been that one.

It was the last time I would know what it was to be truly happy.

Chapter Nine

Monday morning and Jack was still asleep. Downstairs, I gazed out of the kitchen window while I waited for the kettle to boil. The view was obscured by a milky mist, the sun quivering behind a cluster of cloud. March felt like February once more.

Grey. Everything was grey.

The landscape.

My mood.

We’d arranged some time off work to get the house as straight as we could before the tradesmen arrived to give us quotes but Jack was sick and I was still weak.

I was contemplating whether I should cancel the appointments when my phone began to ring.

Sid.

I tucked the handset between my shoulder and cheek and spoke to him as I poured boiling water onto teabags.

‘Are you okay, Libby? You sound tired.’

I hesitated, not wanting to sound ungrateful. ‘Now we’re in, I’m a little concerned about all the things we have to do before we can get the centre up and running.’ It had all sounded so romantic; moving into a rickety house, renovating it so we could follow our dreams,but it was daunting, the sheer volume of faults the house had, and they were only the ones that were visible.

‘It just needs—’

‘Tarting up and a lick of paint, I know, Sid.’

‘I was going to say it just needs vision and you both have that. It looks a state but we did that structural survey thingy so you know the bones are sound. You just need to add the meat. We went over the budgets and the trust fund before you took out the mortgage, and young Jack sorted the grants so don’t worry, duck. It might seem like a mountain now but you can only reach the peak step by step.’

‘Thanks, Sid.’

Reassured, I carried Jack’s tea upstairs. He was still sleeping, cheeks pink, hairline damp with sweat. The patch of skin underneath his nostrils was dry and red where he’d frequently blown his nose on toilet paper because we’d run out of Kleenex. He stirred as I placed his mug on the bedside table.

‘Hey.’ The bed frame creaked as I sat on the edge of the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’

He licked his lips. ‘Rough.’ He didn’t try to sit up.

‘I’ve made you a drink. Do you want it now?’ I asked but his eyes had already closed and within seconds he was dozing again. I was worried, already dialling Maggie, the district nurse, but she didn’t pick up. I was pondering what to do when seconds later I received a text from her.With a patient. Will be with you around eleven.

It was a relief.

Back downstairs Jack’s phone trilled from inside my handbag. I pulled it out. The battery was almost flat but there were several missed calls from Faith – she must have called while I was upstairs and couldn’t hear – and a text from her.I would never normally have gone through Jack’s phone but I opened it so I could reply. When I saw what she’d written my stomach somersaulted. I had to read it a second and then a third time.Have you spoken to Libby yet? It’s so awkward when I see her. XX

My brain stuttered for a moment while my thoughts caught up with each other. Why did Faith know something I didn’t? It must be about the business, but still, awkward seemed an odd word to use.

Were we in trouble financially?

I drummed my fingernails on the worktop. My uneasy feet itched to march upstairs and demand that Jack explain it, but he felt so under the weather it didn’t seem fair. Besides, I’d know if it was something serious.

Wouldn’t I?

We knew each other inside out but then I thought I knew Alice better than anyone and she was keeping the identity of the baby’s father from me. Do we ever properly know anyone?

I scanned the text again, trying to figure it out. Faith had been quiet when Michael had driven us home from the hospital but we all were, Jack and I both spent. But was there another reason they hadn’t made conversation? Not wanting to let a secret slip? What could Jack possibly have told her that he hadn’t told me? Suddenly a memory came to mind, pushing my doubts aside.

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