Ooof!
She might as well have punched me in the face.
I took a moment to recover, my conversation with Steph echoing amongst the frustration and anxiety. I glanced down at my trousers, which were indeed inside out.
‘Some meals would be very helpful. Just for the next week or so while we find our feet. Leanne is hoping to be home in the next few days, but if someone could take Joan to hospital on one or two of those, that would also be great. Once we’ve walked Nesbit, we’re going to have a big tidy up and a clean. Sunday we’ll do a food shop on the way back from the hospital. Thank you for telling me about my trousers. I was half asleep when you knocked and pulled them on in a hurry.’
‘Excellent. How about we swap numbers, and I’ll let you know who and what to expect when. And no problem about your trousers, but my son said he might have those chairs ready for you today. I didn’t want you to end up caught with your crotch hem on show.’
Before she left, Pia unloaded three shopping bags full of essentials like bread, milk and cake, along with a giant lasagne.
‘It’s not quite your standard, but better than a microwave meal.’
‘Thank you.’
Her face creased up again. ‘It’s the least I can do. If you don’t mind, I’ll take Joan to visit her mother when it’s next convenient. I feel I must speak to her in person.’
‘We were going to head over this afternoon. If you take Joan, I could stay and get the house straight.’
‘Or, I could take Joan and you could read a book, or have a long bath and a sleep?’ She winked at me. ‘We’ll take our time, give you long enough to do both.’
I was scrubbing the shower when there was another knock on the door. And yes, I might have brushed my hair and put on a discreet swipe of mascara and lip gloss. I knew there was nothing ever going to happen between Sam and I, but my foolish heart was finding it harder to accept.
I opened the door to find him sitting in an oak chair on my doorstep, adopting a clichéd model pose. It would have been funnier if he didn’t look like a model.
‘I heard you’ve had a busy week. Thought a comfy chair might help,’ he said, standing up and picking up the solid chair like it was made of polystyrene.
‘Just one?’ I asked, peering behind him to see if there was another one for me to carry.
‘Then where would I sit?’ he replied, as if confounded by the very thought. ‘They’re heavy, though. Why don’t you open a beer or put the kettle on or something? Mum’ll kill me if she finds out I’ve had you hefting furniture.’
I opted for beer, given that the sun was starting to probe through the murk. I was tipping one of the giant bags of crisps that Pia had left in my cupboard into a bowl when Sam found me.
‘How are you holding up?’ he asked, brow furrowed with concern. His voice was so kind and gentle that all my determination to appear competent melted into a sudden rush of tears that, once they’d started, wouldn’t seem to stop.
‘Come here,’ he muttered, pulling me up against him and enfolding me in his solid arms. He was wearing a soft grey T-shirt, and my face ended up pressed against the bare skin above his collar. It was warm and smooth and smelt like sawdust and summertime.
I kept my arms awkwardly against my sides, but honestly, I could have fallen asleep inside that hug, I felt so safe and comfortable. Well, apart from the electricity crackling beneath my skin.
‘I’m sorry,’ I sniffled, eventually pulling back and wiping my face on the sleeve of my own T-shirt, until Sam handed me a tissue. ‘I always get overemotional when I’m tired.’
He frowned. ‘I think, all things considered, that this was probably the right amount of emotion.’
That made me smile, which brought out his dazzling grin again, instantly pushing back the shadows.
Sam listened while I went over the past week, grimacing in sympathy when I described finding Leanne unconscious, raising his eyebrows when I explained how I was determined to continue caring for Joan until Leanne was well enough to.
‘That’s a huge commitment for someone you’ve only known a couple of months.’
I took a sip of beer. ‘I know. But I’ve seen her six days a week for most of that. Cooked her meals, helped with homework projects.’ I paused, shrugged. ‘I love her like a niece, if I had one. Which I won’t, being an only child. Maybe sometimes families are made, not born. Leanne and Joan need a family. It doesn’t feel like a burden to be that for them. It feels like the most natural thing I could do.’