Without warning, Nora suddenly felt very old, Like,eightyold. The speed at which the years were slipping by, shewouldbe eighty before too long; the previous thirty had flown by so fast. Yet, conversely, her teenage years seemed like several lifetimes ago, and lately her body was taking great delight in reminding her that she was no longer a spring chicken.
There had been a time when she could have raced up this hill, all the way to the top, and barely be out of breath when she got there. Now though, she was puffing and panting like Thomas the Tank Engine on a bad day, and she was beginning to regret not driving up. She was already out of breath, her thighs were on fire, and she was sweating buckets – and they weren’t even halfway there yet.
Elijah, damn him, looked as cool as a polar bear sitting on a glacier, and he didn’t need to catch his breath because he hadn’t lost it. He looked as though he was out for a saunter along the high street.
‘I love this view,’ he said, pausing and turning back to gaze at it, giving Nora the opportunity to take a breather.
God, she was so unfit.
Cross with herself, she quickly turned to continue the trudge up the hill, and promptly lost her footing on the uneven path. Her leg went from underneath her and she would have face-planted the ground if it hadn’t been for Elijah’s quick-firereaction, as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her towards him.
She came up against his chest with a thud that sent them both tumbling backwards. Elijah juddered back a couple of paces, before regaining his balance.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked. He still had hold of her and as she looked into his eyes, she could see the concern in them.
Nora, who prided herself on rarely crying, promptly burst into tears.
She didn’t want to do this anymore.
She’d had her fill of being diabetic. She wanted everything to go back to the way it had been before she’d had the phone call from her GP.
It was so unfair.
‘Are you hurt?’ Elijah held her shoulders, searching her face for clues. ‘Are you ill?’
‘I’m fine,’ she sobbed.
‘Fine people don’t cry.’
‘It’s nothing.’ She was bawling now, her hands covering her face as she ugly cried big, fat tears.
‘It’s definitelysomething,’ he persisted. ‘What’s wrong? Maybe I can help?’
‘You can’t.’ He seriously couldn’t, not when he smelled of vanilla and coconut, and reminded her of all the delicious things that were now out of bounds.
‘Come here.’ His voice was gentle as he drew her close and wrapped his arms around her.
Nora tensed, the gorgeous aroma intensifying. Then she slowly subsided into his embrace.
They stayed like that for a while, him holding her, and her snivelling until her tears ran their course and she managed to bring herself under control. When she disentangled herself, he silently handed her a tissue and she took it gratefully, blowing her nose.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered.
‘Don’t be. Better than keeping it bottled up. Is there anything I can do to help?’ he asked again.
She gave him a wan smile. ‘Relinquish your claim on Biscuit?’
‘Apart from that.’
‘No, then. But thank you for offering.’
‘This isn’t about Biscuit, is it?’
‘Not really.’
‘What is it?’
‘Oh, you know,life.’
