‘Ah.’
‘And the second was that it was a rash mistake.’
‘Any more, while you’re on a confessional roll?’
He edged closer to her on the sofa, emboldened by her putting her own mug down.
‘The third lie was that I thought we should take some time apart. And the moths. I haven’t always loved moths. But if that’s what you are, I absolutely love them now.’
‘You love moths?’ she breathed.
‘I love you, Mary.’ He slowly reached up and cradled her cheek with his hand. ‘The truth is, I am absolutely, agonisingly, irrepressibly in love with you.’
‘I love you, too,’ she said, smiling so hard he didn’t know how he would manage to kiss her.
They figured it out.
35
MARY
After more talking, more kissing, more smiling like a pair of lovesick teenagers, then feeding and settling a baby before more conversation and crying about all the things we’d left unsaid, I ended up falling asleep in Beckett’s arms. He nudged me awake enough to drag myself up to bed and change into pyjamas before immediately collapsing back into oblivion the second I crawled under the duvet.
After Bob woke me up with an urgent request for breakfast, I changed into leggings and an oversized hoodie and went downstairs, expecting to find Beckett under a blanket on the sofa.
The living room was empty. To my dismay, the rest of the house was, too.
That was fine – it was only six and still dark outside, but maybe Beckett had headed home to change before going back to the hospital. Perhaps he was working an early shift.
Except that he would have told me, wouldn’t he? Or at the very least left a note, or sent me a message.
By the time I’d made coffee, I was debating whether it was within my rights to feel upset that he’d disappeared on me when the front door opened and he hurried inside, closing the door against a gust of wintry wind.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, coming to find me in the kitchen, his eyes flickering with doubt.
‘I thought I must have scared you off,’ I said, managing a hesitant smile.
His brow furrowed, head shaking as if the very idea was preposterous. ‘Not possible.’
I leant against the table, the rush of relief followed by a swift surge of joy.
‘So, where did you go?’
‘To get this.’ He disappeared, then came back carrying a large box wrapped in glittery paper. ‘Happy Christmas, Mary. In the spirit of being a Santa, I thought I’d be able to bring it over before you woke up.’
‘It’s Christmas Day!’ What with everything else going on, I’d completely forgotten.
‘I also got us breakfast, but that’s still in the car. I wasn’t sure which you’d like first.’
I thought about that. My stomach was more than ready for breakfast, but I was beyond eager to know what was in that box.
‘Both at the same time?’
He grinned. ‘That’s why you’re the clever one.’
It was a sewing machine. Second-hand, because he’d rightly deduced I’d rather a reconditioned better-quality machine than a cheaper new one. There was also a beautiful velvet box containing all the essential sewing kit, including threads, pins, scissors and a tape measure.
He gave me an envelope with Bob’s name on it, inside of which was a photograph of a brown and white cocker spaniel puppy.
