Kate strode into the hospital, olive-green silk swirling like a wave around her legs. The door to the ward was opened for her by a weary nurse in scrubs. ‘I know visiting hours are almost up,’ Kate said quickly. ‘But I promised I’d stop by and see someone. I won’t be long.’ She had left Emily’s big night for this, but she was beginning to realise the things that really mattered in life were not necessarily the big moments, the grand gestures, but the smaller ones, the seemingly inconsequential.
Like the first tentative phone call with her mum last night. Talking about nothing that mattered. The text had come as Kate was being driven back to Bluebell Bank from the hospital. It said so little. It said it all. A few insignificant, weighty little words:
It’s about time I told you how sorry I am.
Lily’s voice, when she answered Kate’s call had been wary – afraid she might scare Kate off – but laced with barely contained excitement.
‘How are you?’ Kate had asked, as if she called up each week just to chat.
‘I’m fine.’ Soft, hesitant. ‘Just in from yoga actually.’
‘Yoga?’
‘Mmm, I’m training to be an instructor.’
‘That’s … great. I’m … I’m in the country, Mum.’
‘You’re in Scotland?’
‘Yeah, I have been for … a while.’ She didn’t want to hurt Lily with the knowledge that she’d been within reach all these weeks, and still so far away. ‘I’m on the Solway, with the Cottons.’
‘Of course, the Cottons.’ Lily was fighting to keep her voice bland; she wasn’t allowed to resent the family who had cared for Kate in all the ways that counted when she was, to all intents and purposes, absent. But Kate imagined the knowledge that such resentment was off limits didn’t prevent her from feeling it.
Kate took a breath. ‘Lena died.’
‘Oh. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. What happened?’
‘Uh, it’s a long story. I was thinking perhaps I’d tell you it in person.’
Silence. ‘You want to see me.’
‘I do.’
The dam broke and excitement poured through. ‘You can come here! Or I can come to you. Either. Whatever you like! Or we could meet in the middle somewhere—’
‘Mum, stop.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’ll come to you. If I may.’
Lily’s mask of reserve was back in place. ‘Of course you may. Let’s set a date. Come for lunch and stay as little or as long as you like.’
Maybe, maybe, Kate thought, she’d invite Lily for the book festival in September: Lily would like that. She may even spend Christmas with her. Depending how the lunch lined up for next week went.
There was a long road to recovery ahead: for Luke with his burns and broken bones; for Kate redefining her relationship with her mother, getting past Emily and Luke’s betrayal and realising that what happened now and next mattered more than the mistakes of before; for Emily, ready to heal her heart and stand on her own feet.
The nurse shrugged and gestured for her to go ahead. ‘Ten minutes,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
‘That’s fine.’
Kate hurried along the corridor to Luke’s private room. He was awake and watching Grand Designs. He looked up when she entered his room and his eyes widened. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Can I drag you away from geeking out over different types of wall insulation for a few minutes?’
Luke snapped off the television. ‘In that dress you have my undivided attention.’ He tried to sit up straighter, but with his leg still encased in a thick, white cast it was a struggle.
Kate gave a self-conscious twirl and sat in the chair beside his bed. ‘The opening was tonight,’ she said. ‘And I missed you, so I brought you this.’ She delved into her bag and produced a small package of napkin-wrapped canapés. ‘I wanted to bring champagne,’ she said. ‘But that didn’t seem so easy to smuggle past the nurses.’
Luke put the canapés aside and reached out a hand for her to come closer. She did, perching on the edge of his bed. ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry you had to miss the party for me.’
Kate shrugged. ‘I’d rather be here.’ Where she had been, day after day, since the fire. ‘Actually there was something I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘That sounds ominous.’
Kate shook her head. ‘No, it’s just something … well, I wanted to get it out in the open because I’m not so sure you remember it. You were pretty out of it on morphine at the time.’
Luke groaned. ‘Did I start singing or something? Make a complete twat of myself?’
Kate smiled, shook her head again. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. ‘Not to my knowledge,’ she said. ‘But you did ask me to marry you.’
Luke coughed and his eyes widened. ‘What?’
‘You asked me to marry you. Right after you came round from the anaesthetic.’
He was mortified. ‘I don’t remember … I’m sorry. I—’
‘Ssh.’ Kate silenced him with a finger to his lips. ‘I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. I was more worried in case you did remember and you were still waiting for my answer.’
Luke’s brow creased. ‘Kate, I … It’s not that I don’t love you—’
Kate stiffened, then laughed. ‘Are you trying to tell me you do love me, in that oh-so roundabout way? It’s not exactly how I imagined your first declaration of love. Or my first proposal,’ she added, almost but not quite to herself.
Luke laughed. ‘I do love you,’ he said, and reached out for her, caressing her cheek, sliding his fingers into her hair, pulling her face down to his. Kate brushed his lips, rested her forehead against him. ‘Always have.’
Luke breathed in the scent of her hair, moved to kiss her temple, the line of her jaw, the jut of collarbone above the stiff, shivering silk of the corset. Her skin rippled at his touch. ‘Perhaps,’ he said, ‘we could get married …’
Kate silenced him with her lips, kissing fiercely. When she released him she rounded on him in anger. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not like that.’ She was sick of roller coasters, wanted to feel solid ground beneath her feet for a while.
She wanted mundane and ordinary. Seeing Luke’s crestfallen expression, she smiled. ‘I don’t want to break your poor heart again without the aid of serious pain meds.’
‘So … your answer was – is – no?’
‘You bet. It wasn’t a real proposal, and neither is this.’ She sat back increasing the distance between them, saw how Luke’s jaw tightened with apprehension. ‘I just want to enjoy things as they are.’
‘What: me flat on my back and barely able to move?’
Kate raised one eyebrow. ‘Frankly, flat on your back sounds fine, but I’d prefer you able to move.’ Luke smirked. ‘I meant just being together. Being boyfriend and girlfriend.’
‘How very adolescent.’ He was laughing. He reached across the gulf of crisp, white sheets and touched her hand, tracing his fingers over her knuckles. Kate raised her eyes to his, unfurled her fingers and wound them with his.
‘I love you,’ she said softly. ‘Let’s be teenagers again, Luka.’
It was the first time he had heard the name without flinching. From Kate’s lips he liked it. He tugged her down to him again, begging another kiss. She kissed him hard and when she let him come up for air, he sighed and nestled his face against her neck. ‘Will you love my scars?’ he said.
Kate stroked his hair. ‘Every single one,’ she said.
Luke nodded against her shoulder and closed his eyes. ‘I promise the next time I propose to you I will be of sound mind and not high on hard drugs.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
‘There is one thing.’ Luke pushed her gently away and looked into her eyes, all the jocularity unnerving him; he needed something more substantial from her.
Kate met his eyes. ‘What?’
‘Are you planning to stay a good while, Kate? Because, though I might deserve it, I couldn’t take it if you left me and ran off home again.’
Kate linked her fingers more tightly with his. ‘Luka,’ she said. ‘Don’t be stupid. I am home.’