Chapter Seventeen
Robyn was only vaguely aware of Matt checking on her several times that night, of the blissful feeling of him mopping her brow with a cool flannel and then dotting kisses where he had wiped, holding her glass to her lips and tucking her in reverently as if she were the most precious thing to him. He didn’t speak, didn’t ask what she needed, simply moved around silently getting pain relief from the packet and making sure the jug by her bedside was topped up with fresh, cold water.
When morning came, it brought with it a feeling of normality that Robyn hadn’t even known she’d missed. Her throat still hurt like the mother of all infections, but her headache and high temperature had been held at bay for now, allowing her to finally think clearly. What she had been doing storming off to the train station without even knowing when or if the next service would be, she had no idea. And to just lie there on that bench risking her health even further… well, let’s just say she must’ve been much more ill than she’d realised.
The calm moment of introspection didn’t last long, however, as the moment Robyn switched it back on from charging overnight her phone began pinging with a volley of missed calls and text messages. She ignored the ones from Matt, knowing how desperate he would have been yesterday morning and not wanting to relive that particular adventure right now, and began with the ones from Sorcha.
Apparently her friend had been alerted by Matt’s enquiry as to whether Robyn was there and was now worried sick. Robyn hit redial and prepared for the onslaught of emotion. Sorcha was a beautiful friend, but carried her heart on her sleeve and felt things keenly. She hated the thought that anyone she loved might be hurting or distressed in any way, and would go out of her way to make things right even when they hadn’t been her fault in the first place.
“Good timing, Matt filled me in last night and I’m just at Seeds and Sprouts getting us breakfast. I know you won’t want anything scratchy for your throat so I’ve got a buttery soft croissant and an iced matcha latte for you that promises an extra hit of Vitamin C to promote your immune system.”
“Sorcha, you really didn’t have to…” Robyn struggled to keep up with her friend’s happy narrative, still not understanding how anyone could be that much of a morning person that they’d be at the local deli in Upper Oakley at opening time.
“Not at all, the snow has stopped and I’ve got my snow boots and dad’s old rambling sticks, so I’m quite prepared. Just ask Matt to open the main door, will you?”
“Sure, okay, thanks,” Robyn hung up and sank back onto her pillow, suddenly feeling drained of energy from even that one interaction.
A soft knock came on her door, “Ruby? I heard you talking, are you okay?”
“Yes, come in lovely,” She knew she must look a sight, but she had a lot to thank her guy for, and some hard conversations to share too.
Matt would never admit that he’d not had a wink of sleep, that his night had been spent either checking on her, listening out for her, or obsessively rehearsing what he would say when Robyn was lucid once more. Now the time had arrived and his mouth felt dry, his heart hammering in his chest.
“You look almost as bad as I imagine I do, love, come here,” Robyn tapped the bed beside her and he sat down gingerly, automatically passing her the glass of water and her first antibiotic of the day, the last of the ones the doctor had given them.
“I’ll get out as soon as the chemist opens and fill your prescriptions and Dad’s. The snow has stopped so I’ll be quicker today, Dad has no appointments planned now till next week, so then I’ll run you a bath and…”
“Slow down, honey, it’s okay, I’m okay. I’m sorry for… everything,” Robyn let out a huge sigh, her hand shaking where she held the glass.
Brushing her fingers with his own as he took the drink from her, Matt said, “Maybe the big talk can wait till your better? We’re both tired, we both said things we probably regret, and a few we meant too, and I can’t face a post mortem today. Would it be okay if I just look after you and we be best friends again till you’re back on your feet?”
It came out in a rush, desperate as he was to give his well-practised speech without her interrupting him.
“That sounds perfect,” Robyn reached out and pulled him close, seemed to be angling to give him a peck on the lips and then pulled back abruptly. “Sorry, just realised I can’t remember the last time I cleaned my teeth,” she smiled ruefully and he felt the relief flood through him that she was so much better in herself than the day before. “Oh! Sorcha will be here in a few minutes, can you help me to the bathroom?”
“Of course, but… Sorcha?”
“You know how she gets when anyone she’s close to is under the weather. Real Florence Nightingale stuff.”
“Ah yes, I remember,” Matt felt himself grin as he helped Robyn to her feet. Thankfully, she was much steadier today and he barely had to hold her at all.
“Thanks,” she leant against him as they returned to her bedroom, her energy much depleted by the walk along the corridor and back.
Matt tightened his hold around her waist and tucked her head in close to his side, enjoying the feeling of having her near again.
“I’ll get some of that bubble bath you like while I’m out, and more chocolate, maybe drinking chocolate will be best for your throat. Obviously with marshmallows and cream,” he said gently as she swung her legs back into bed.
“You don’t have to, I’m not sure I deserve it…”
“Shh, I want to. Besides, I can’t be being outdone by Sorcha Nightingale, can I?” He winked and was rewarded with a smile.
It was enough, it was more than enough.
“So you see, if I could get coach tours stopping at the castle for afternoon tea, then I could send them on to the pub in the evening for drinks and music. I just need to get one of the heritage grants I’ve been applying for so we can get the roof and the plumbing fixed, then onto the décor, and…” Sorcha had been outlining her latest plans to get the castle out of trouble for the past five minutes and Robyn had to stifle a yawn. Her friend was nothing if not a trier. In fact, you could say she didn’t know when to give up.
“I just have to get the place ship shape enough for the groups to come, then they’ll add extra money to the pot which can be spent on the old place. I just need one grant to come through,” she crossed her fingers and held them in front of her face.
“You know we’ll all help as much as we can, but how will you manage all that, Sor? And how much competition is there for these grants? Haven’t you been applying for years, and your parents before you?” Robyn’s illness was making her even blunter than usual, “And with your mum and dad out of action so to speak, how can you manage getting all those rooms up to scratch even if you do get the structural problems sorted and…”
“Shh, one step at a time,” Sorcha tapped Robyn’s hand gently with her still crossed fingers, her eyes shining with hope, though the downturn of her lips betrayed the fact even she wasn’t totally convinced she could execute her elaborate plan.
“Well, I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Robyn yawned loudly this time, brushing pastry crumbs off her covers and snuggling down, “thanks, Sor, that was the best breakfast in bed.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Sorcha’s grey, under-eye bags were almost as large as her own, and Robyn made a mental note to do something nice for her friend when she was feeling better. Always looking after everyone else, her singing sister deserved a bit of care too.