Chapter Nine

PATIENTS often didn’t realise just how ill they were when they’re in hospital.

It’s only when they went back into the real world and met the million and one things that made it real that they suddenly realised how poorly or sore they really were. And for Lorna the realisation came as she stood up in the wheelchair at the collection point and tried to lower herself into James’s rather low sports car. Even putting on her seat belt herself was impossible. She couldn’t twist to get it and neither could she easily twist to clip it—two simple manoeuvres that she’d never really given a thought to until now.

‘I’ll do it.’

He leant carefully over her and it was, for Lorna, their first contact, his big shoulders so close, his hair in her face. He smelt different but the same, so big and strong and efficient and gentle.

‘Ouch!’ Tears stung her eyes and she felt like the biggest baby in the world, but as he leant back and released the seat belt the pressure was unbearable.

‘God, Lorna, I’m sorry.’ He pulled at the belt and held it loose, unclipped it again and looked at her with concerned eyes. ‘Just wait there.’

He darted into Emergency and came back with a pillow, which she held on her chest as he again went through the rigmarole of clipping her in.

And that was before she’d even got out of the hospital. Everything on the five-minute journey to his home was daunting, the winter sun too bright, the sound of a siren as fire engines raced towards them on the other side of the road made her sweat. Her memory of the accident had returned now. Not that she’d told anyone, but she could remember well the loss of control, the screech of the tyres, the slam of metal as she’d hit a tree. Now even going at twenty miles an hour in the busy London traffic felt way too fast.

‘Nearly there.’ James glanced over but she wished he wouldn’t. She wanted him to keep his eyes on the road.

He had a lovely town house in Islington and he held her arm as slowly she climbed the steps, utterly exhausted by the time she got inside.

‘It’s lovely!’ Lorna blinked at the gleaming furniture, the flowers in the vases. It was nothing like she was used to from James!

‘I’ve got a surprise for you!’ He waited till she’d lowered herself onto the chair.

‘A surprise?’

He held up a bag and then opened it, pulled out pyjamas and dressing gown in soft pinks and greens, slippers, leggings and fluffy socks and lots of nice things.

‘You shouldn’t have.’

‘I didn’t.’ James said. ‘It’s from May. The pyjamas are new, but the dressing gown and other things are her daughter’s. She’s off travelling for a year.’

‘That’s so kind of her.’

‘She’s a lovely woman,’ James said, ‘thoughtful, you know. Anyway—’ his face was deadpan as he spoke, just the same way it used to be when he joked with her ‘—I couldn’t have let you move in here wearing those. They truly are the most disgusting pyjamas I’ve ever seen and they keep getting worse.’

‘It was a pack of three,’ Lorna said glumly. ‘Orange, pink and baby pooh green. I like to think my mother just has no taste, but I’m sure the fact James Morrell was there sent her searching the shops for the ugliest sleepwear in history, to stop him from fancying me.’

‘Well, good for Betty.’ James grinned. ‘Because it worked!’

‘I’ll put them on when Ellie comes round.’ Lorna carried on the joke. ‘Just in case she’s worried that your ex is here!’

He didn’t say anything—he certainly wasn’t going to tell her they’d broken up. That would have her worried, would stop the easygoing banter that was starting to come. Lorna knew his rules, knew he would never so much as look at another woman while he was already with one. There was just no need to confuse things. When Lorna admitted she was tired, he helped her up the stairs and took her into the master bedroom. He had upped Pauline’s hours and insisted the room have the biggest spring clean of its life since Monday.

‘I can’t take your room.’

‘It’s got its own toilet and shower,’ James said, ‘and a nice view of the street so you don’t get too bored!’

‘Way better than the hospital generator,’ Lorna agreed.

‘Do you want a shower?’

‘No thanks.’ She shook her head. ‘I just want to sleep.’

‘Go for it, then.’ He pulled the curtains and the room was bathed in lovely darkness, so dark he had to turn on the side-light. ‘I bought decent curtains, this room gets the sun and it’s hell trying to get to sleep in a bright room after working all night.’ Suddenly it was awkward, so he headed for the door. ‘Have a nice rest.’

She did, slid into bed and slept for a solid four hours, only waking again because she started coughing and the painkillers had worn off. She was relieved that James had stayed home for her first day here. She heard his footsteps on the stairs, a knock on the door. He must have been dozing himself, because his face had that lovely sort of crumpled look to it, and his hair was sticking up at the side.

‘Here,’ he said, giving her a drink of water and her lunchtime medicines. ‘I’ll get you some lunch.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘I wasn’t asking if you were. I’m making lunch and you’ll eat it whether you want it or not.’

‘You have to be nice to me, remember.’ Lorna smiled. ‘Because I’m sick.’

Oh, and he had to bite his tongue. He was about to remind her that he’d always been nice to her, sick or not, that he’d always tried to do the right thing by her.

Only he’d also promised her that he wouldn’t go over the past.