*****
‘Did I tell you about the bathrooms?’ Libby’s mum asked, this breathy voice becoming the norm for her when discussing anything Jamie-related. And yes – yes, her motherhadtold her about the sodding bathrooms. Multiple times. Just as she had described in detail every kitchen appliance, every floor covering, every piece of furniture (although she had made sure, againmultiple times, to mention that the house needed more soft furnishings – ‘a woman’s touch’, she had said pointedly, complete with raised eyebrows and pursed lips). Rita Penny’s feminist principles seemed to have gone out the window when it came to Jamie.
The only thing her parents were slightly less keen on about perfect Jamie and his perfect house was Beauty, who had eaten a pair of her mum’s knickers the first night they moved in and ‘smelt of a sewage works’, as her dad put it.
After two days staying there her mum had wrestled the massive dog into Jamie’s walk-in shower and shampooed her with an entire bottle of her Pantene. Her mother may be relatively tiny but she was surprisingly strong. Since then she had sprayed Beauty daily with Febreze. Three more pairs of her knickers had gone missing.
‘Could you pass my washbag, Mum?’ Libby asked, suppressing a much needed eye roll. She was finally getting out of hospital today. The pneumonia had been so severe that it had required two days of intravenous antibiotics, and only now were her oxygen saturations and peak flows improving.
She had also been measured, poked and prodded, declared ‘underweight’, her lung function deemed ‘poor’. Unfortunately, the need for her to eat properly, keep more regular hours and take better care of her asthma had been reiterated in front of her parents and Jamie many times over the last few days. Libby’s mantra, that she could look after herself, was beginning to look a little far from the truth. Her parents wanted to stay down longer but she knew her dad couldn’t afford to take any more time off. Work was scarce enough as it was; if he was thought to be unreliable it might dry up altogether.
‘Your father’s on his way over, then I’ll pop off to pack up what you need from the flat and pick up Rosie before we head to Jamie’s house.’
‘Mum, I’ve told you,’ Libby said, gritting her teeth to keep from losing her temper. ‘I’m not going to Jamie’s house. It was kind of him to let you stay but I’m better now and I’m perfectly capable of – ’
‘Hello, ladies,’ Jamie called from the doorway.
‘Dr Grantham,’ Libby’s mum breathed.
‘Please, Rita, I’ve told you, it’s Jamie,’ he said, smiling at Libby’s mother as he moved further into the room.
‘Of course … Jamie.’ Rita had recovered somewhat but she still sounded like she’d jogged a good few miles. ‘It’s just a reflex when you’ve got yourdoctor clotheson.’
‘They’re scrubs, Mum,’ Libby said through her teeth, then looked over at Jamie and forced a smile. ‘I was just telling Mum that I’ll go straight back to the flat and collect Rosie’s stuff later after nursery pick-up.’ Jamie’s smile dropped and he frowned as he moved further into the room.
‘Oh, that’s okay,’ he told her, taking her bag out of her hands and zipping it up with annoying ease; the buggering thing had been refusing to budge for the last ten minutes. ‘I can give you a lift. Henry’s covering my list this morning, and I’ll bring Rosie back later.’ Libby turned to him and crossed her arms over her chest.
‘My flatwill be out of your way, and I’ve got nothing else to do.’ She watched as Jamie’s frown deepened and his jaw clenched tight.
‘Seeing as you’re coming home tomy housetoday and after I take you there you’re going to spend the day resting untilIbring Rosie home, that shouldn’t be a problem.’
‘It’d take a load off me and you’re dad’s minds if you had someone with you, love,’ Libby’s mum said. ‘I think you should listen to Dr … I mean Jamie. He knows what he’s talking about.’
‘Rita?’ Jamie turned to her mother and smiled. Rita Penny looked like she had stopped breathing altogether. ‘Would you mind awfully popping to see if Libby’s medication is ready? The ward pharmacist should have sorted it by now. I just need a moment with Libby.’
‘Of course, Jamie,’ Rita said after finally taking a breath. Then she bustled out of the room.
‘Look, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for my family over the last few days, but I’m fine now. I can take care of Rosie and myself. There’s no need to –’
‘No.’ Jamie grabbed her bag off the bed and dumped it behind him. ‘You arenotfine. You willnotgo home to that bloody little flat alone.’
‘Listen,’ Libby said, softening her tone. ‘You don’t have to feel guilty, okay? I’m a single mum and I got sick; that is not your responsibility. These are not your problems; they’re mine. I know you feel you owe us something but you don’t.’ All of a sudden her throat felt tight and she had to swallow to get her next words out in a whisper. ‘The time … the time we spent with you … well … it meant a lot to me … and to Rosie. You don’t have to feel bad. You’re free to do as you want.’
‘I’m not – ’
‘But Jamie,’ she hesitated, and then reached up to put her hand on his chest. ‘I can’t go through it again. I can’t live that dream and then have it taken from me, taken from Rosie. It’s not fair to either of us. That’s why I’ve got to gohome.’
‘I see,’ Jamie said, his voice tightly controlled.
Libby blew out a breath in what she hoped was relief but suspected was more likely to be disappointment. Now that she had absolved Jamie of any lingering guilt he might feel, he would be free to go back to his nice, uncomplicated life again. She didn’t blame him. ‘I knew you’d understand.’
‘So the past week has been about pity has it?’ he asked her, and she blinked.
‘Uh …’
‘I felt sorry for you and Rosie, so I invited your whole family to stay at my house. Allowed your mother to traumatise my dog. Have a family of woodlice living in one of my houseplants, because I felt bad?’
‘Uh … yes?’
