Chapter 21
21
Once I’ve walked Alan, I give him some fresh food and a cuddle, then lock Jay’s house behind me. I was quickly in and out this time, but it still strikes me as odd that the house feels as though he doesn’t really live there, but rather uses it as somewhere functional to eat and work. I think about my house in London – the coats and shoes lined up along the hallway, the family photos and postcards of things I love covering one wall of the living room, the stuffed bookshelves; the kids’ height over the years is still marked on a doorway, and other signs that they lived there until very recently everywhere you look.
I feel a sudden pang for my home and wonder how the family who are renting it are getting on. Are they taking care of it? Have they worked out that the back door handle only locks properly when you lift it slightly to help it catch, or that next door’s cat likes to stare through the patio doors disconcertingly most evenings, even making itself at home on the sofa on nights when the doors are slung open to the garden? Have they kept the hedge at the front neatly trimmed, or has it grown wild, tendrils dancing across the pavement?
The contrast between my home and Jay’s couldn’t be more obvious, and I wonder whether it’s just because he’s naturally tidier than me, or if there’s simply not much else to his life apart from work and Alan. It feels sad, if that’s the case.
I really need to get to know this man better, find out what makes him tick.
I had a text from him earlier, confirming that he’s being kept in overnight, so I’m on my way to see him with a bunch of grapes and a brand new Lee Child novel. I don’t want to push my luck.
I decide to drop my bike at home and walk to the hospital this time – it’s only about twenty-five minutes through the park and into town, and it’s easier than leaving my bike somewhere or trying to park. Plus, I really don’t want Jay to know I cycle in case he puts two and two together and works out who I am. I guess if we do start spending more time together, I’ll eventually have to admit that his accident was my fault, but for now I just need him to like me – and I suspect that causing someone serious injuries is not the way to win them over.
I make my way through the now-familiar reception area, towards the lifts and up to the fifth floor. As I enter the ward this time a nurse nods a greeting and I smile. When I arrive in Jay’s room, my heart stops for a moment because he’s not in his bed and I wonder whether he’s left without telling me. But why would he? I mean, I’ve got his house keys for a start.
But then he sits up straight and I realise he’d been sitting on the chair beside the bed all along. I smile in relief.
‘Hey,’ I say, walking over, and he looks round with a smile when he notices me.
‘Hello, you’re a sight for sore eyes.’ My heart flutters a little. I hate to admit it but I have made a bit of an effort this evening. Last time I was here I looked unkempt and like I hadn’t slept – which, to be fair, I hadn’t. I wanted to look at least half-decent this time, in the hope that Jay might notice me.
It seems to have worked because his eyes have lit up. ‘Actually, you look amazing,’ he says.
‘Oh, thanks. I’ve just had a shower.’ I grin, and he grins back.
‘You’ve caught me looking my best too.’ He gestures at his hospital gown, which looks like an old-fashioned nightdress with faded vertical purple and white stripes. It only reaches just below his knee and the calves poking out of the bottom are toned and covered in fine dark hair. His toes look well-groomed too – there’s nothing worse than wizened old toenails to turn my stomach.
I stop staring at his feet and look up at his face.
‘I think the colour of the gown really brings out the pink in your eyes,’ I say and he laughs, a soft, melodic laugh that makes me stop in my tracks. Does it feel familiar? Have I heard that laugh before? Maybe.
I sit on the bed, my feet dangling slightly off the ground. ‘So, how are you feeling this evening?’
He rubs his head as though testing it out. ‘A damn sight better than I was this time last night. Not that I remember much about it.’
I swallow. ‘Do you… remember anything about the accident?’
He shakes his head. ‘Not really. I’d been out for dinner with a couple of colleagues and I was driving home. Then some idiot on a bike pulled in front of me and I swerved to avoid them and… the next thing I know I was in an ambulance.’ He shakes his head, exasperated. ‘I’m really not sure of the details, but I don’t suppose it matters. It could have been a lot worse.’
I force a smile. ‘Yes, that’s true. So how are your injuries?’
‘Well, my head feels okay. This eye’ – he touches it gently with his fingers and flinches – ‘is pretty sore but it’s just bruising. Apparently my neck brace is a precaution but they want me to keep it on for a day or two, so it’s mainly this arm which, thankfully, is only badly sprained and not broken.’ He shrugs. ‘I guess I’m lucky.’
I don’t say anything, and we lapse into silence for a moment, the sounds of the hospital humming around us.
I need to think of something to say, impress him. Sweep him off his feet. Sitting here staring at the floor is hardly going to make him fall in love with me. I’m about to ask him something about himself when he speaks first.
‘So, tell me about you.’
‘Me? There’s not much to tell really.’
‘Oh come on, Miranda, of course there is. What do you do for a living, what are your hobbies, where do you live? There’s always something to tell!’
‘Okay fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ I lace my fingers together. ‘I’m an English teacher, and I like reading – obviously – and I like running. I’ve got two kids but they’re grown up and living their own lives on the other side of the world. I’m divorced, have been for years, and I normally live in London but have moved to Newcastle recently to… for work.’ I trail off, not keen to dive too deeply into my reasons for moving here. If he knew the truth he’d run a mile.
‘You’re from London?’
‘Yes.’
‘Great city. I go occasionally for work.’ He studies me. ‘What have you been up to since you’ve been here?’
I squirm. I can hardly tell him the truth – that I’ve been looking for a man that I strongly suspect might be him.
‘I went skydiving for the first time the other day,’ I blurt.
His eyes widen. ‘I love skydiving!’
‘Do you? That’s amazing,’ I say, trying for surprised but more likely sounding sarcastic. But it’s clear it was the right thing to say because all of a sudden he’s animated, talking about the dives he’s done, about how he’s training to become an instructor, about the first time he ever threw himself out of a plane.
‘God, sorry, I’m just talking about me,’ he says. He leans forward. ‘So, how did you find it? Did you love it?’
‘It was pretty incredible,’ I admit.
He claps his hands together. The man in the bed beside him glances over, then away again. ‘I knew it! Everyone loves it once they try. It’s completely addictive.’
‘Well, I’m not sure about that. It was exhilarating, but I’m far too chicken shit to try it again.’
‘Oh you have to! Honestly, it just gets better and better every time you do it. The adrenaline rush. Let me take you. When I’m out of here, of course, not right now.’ He gives a wry smile and I notice how straight and white his teeth are.
‘Oh, I?—’
He shakes his head. ‘Sorry, that was very presumptuous of me. But you’ve probably noticed skydiving is the thing that gets me most excited. I have the world’s most boring job, so this is what makes me happy and I forget that not everyone is the same.’
‘No, it’s fine. I get it. I’d love to, you know, once you’re all fit again. Thanks.’
His face lights up, his eyes crinkling at the corners, dimples forming in his cheeks. ‘Brilliant.’ He sighs. ‘It was something my ex cited as one of my many faults.’
‘Skydiving?’
‘That, and the fact that she thought I loved skydiving more than I loved her.’ He gives me an impish grin. ‘I suppose I did in the end.’
I smile, unsure what to say.
‘So, you like skydiving and dogs – that’s not a bad start to our brand-new friendship is it?’
‘No,’ I say, weakly. He doesn’t seem to notice.
‘Have you spent much time around dogs then?’
‘Not loads, but… well, I’ve just signed up to walk dogs on that website Walkies.com. And I’ve been spending time with a friend recently who has a cute little dog called Gladys.’
‘Oh that’s a great name for a dog,’ he says, and I smile, trying to ignore the pang of guilt I feel at calling Matt a friend.
‘She’s great. A bit doddery on her feet but so sweet-natured.’
‘Alan’s a bit of a handful, but I do love him.’
‘He’s great. He was very pleased to see me.’
‘He’s always pleased to see anyone if they’re feeding him. He’s a bit of a tart.’
‘Do you need me to pop in again tonight if they’re keeping you in?’
He shakes his head. ‘No, we’re all good tonight thanks. My neighbour texted to say she’s back so he’s gone for a sleepover there.’ He smiles wryly. ‘I swear he prefers it there, he never seems to want to come home again.’
We fall into silence again and when a nurse comes round to do some checks, I take it as my sign to leave. I jump off the bed and Jay looks up in alarm.
‘Are you off already?’
‘You’re busy. I should get going.’
‘This won’t take very long, if you want to wait,’ the nurse says.
‘Oh, I…’ I could stay. Perhaps I should. But suddenly I have the overwhelming urge to be at home, alone, with just a glass of wine and a dinner for one for company.
‘No, it’s fine, I need to get going.’
‘Will you come back tomorrow?’ He looks at the nurse. ‘I assume I’ll still be here?’
‘I’ll let you know in about twenty minutes.’
‘I…’ I smile. ‘Of course, I’ll come back if you’re still here.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for looking after Alan for me. He’ll love you forever.’
‘Night, Jay.’
As I walk away I feel the strangest sensation. Déjà vu? Maybe. Tenderness? Perhaps.
Love?
No, not that. Not yet. But I’m hopeful, if I spend more time with him, really get to know him, that feeling I remember from my dream – that all-consuming, overwhelming feeling of belonging – will come. I just need to give it some time.