Page 15 of The Art of Loving You

‘Christ,’ Faith said softly. ‘Have they caught the mugger?’

‘I hope they string the bastard up!’ There was no speaking in hushed tones for Michael but I was touched by his outrage.

‘He … he died at the scene,’ I told them, pausing for breath.

‘You don’t have to go through it all again,’ Alice said.

But Faith’s eyes were wide with expectation.

‘It’s fine.’ It still didn’t feel real. ‘He ran into the path of a car after … The police said he had a record but …’ While Jack had been sleeping I’d been turning it over and over. It was incredibly sad. The mugger was someone’s son. Possibly a husband, a father, a brother. Almost certainly a friend. What drove someone to crime? I’d been trying to figure it out. Was it something inherently damaged in them since birth or was it their upbringing? Neglect? Lack of love? I kept circling back to Jack’s students who’d been restless and bored before they’d discovered art. ‘I’ve been sitting here thinking that without Jack’s guidance,Liam could have turned to crime, ended up in prison or … or worse. Any one of his group of friends could.’

‘I always knew that Jack’s vision for a centre could be life-changing,’ Faith said. ‘I never actually thought of it being lifesaving.’

There was a beat before Michael asked, ‘Is there anything we can do?’

‘Actually, yes. You could find the van we hired. It must be around the chemist’s somewhere.’

‘Michael doesn’t need to do that,’ Alice said. ‘I can get a cab there and drive the van myself. Do you have the keys?’

‘Yes. But, Alice, the van needs emptying and returning, our cars collecting, and it would be good for you to have help … you know … lifting.’ My eyes flickered to Alice’s stomach and she placed a hand across it, her cheeks burning red. I turned to Faith and Michael. ‘There isn’t much, no furniture except a mattress, mainly clothes, records, books and some kitchen stuff.’

‘We’ll figure it all out and we can work off that sticky toffee pudding and custard,’ Michael said. ‘We’ll pick your cars up when we drop the van off too.’ Faith brushed her lips against Jack’s cheek and whispered goodbye before we all swapped hugs.

‘Alice?’ I called her back as she started to leave. ‘You’ve been amazing today. Really.’ Usually I was the one in charge. The way Alice had kept calm, taken control, had shown a real strength of character. I lowered my voice to a whisper. ‘You’ll be a great mum. A great mumanddad.’

She nodded and with one last, lingering look at Jack she hurried to catch up with Faith and Michael.

I curled up on the visitor chair, staring out of the window. Night had drawn in. The sky dark but clear. Popping with stars. A sliver of a moon cast a silvery glow across Jack’s face.

His eyelids fluttered. I leaned forward, wanting me to be the first thing that he saw.

‘Hey, you.’ I smiled as he focused on my face. His eyes now more familiar, still sad but definitely Jack.

‘How are you feeling?’ I climbed onto the bed next to him. His hands covered his abdomen as the mattress shifted beneath him. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘Not much.’ His voice was hoarse.

I picked up a glass of water and angled the straw between his lips. ‘Small sips.’

He drank, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as I set the glass back down.

‘What happened?’ I didn’t want to bring it up but I couldn’t help it.

‘It was all so quick. One minute I was heading back to the van with the prosecco and Lemsip. The next I was handing over my wallet and phone. I saw the silver of the blade and … oh, Libby …’ It spilled from his lips in a garbled rush. ‘All I could think of was getting back to you. Our life. I love you so much. I was waiting until our anniversary but …’ He took my hand along with a deep breath. ‘Libby, will you—’

‘You’re awake.’ It was a different nurse, unsmiling. ‘Can you get off the bed please.’ She glared at me. ‘Patients only.’ She folded her arms while I slid back onto the chair. Jack pulled a mock angry face behind her back. I was heartened to see he hadn’t lost his sense of humour.

‘You were saying?’ I prompted once she’d gone.

‘Get back on the bed.’ He patted the space next to him.

I glanced down the ward.

‘I dare you,’ he said.

‘I can’t.’

‘Scaredy cat.’

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