what on earth was the nurse talking about? Turning back to Luke, Patricia found her mind focused only on him.
My brilliant, funny son, she thought. Luke had been her rock when Bernard died. Clichés were clichés for a reason, as Bernard always said, and this one was true. Luke and Ade had shouldered the coffin together with the pall bearers at the funeral and when Ade hadn’t been able to manage reading their father’s favourite poem Luke had taken over. He had politely ushered everyone out of the wake when he noticed his mother crumbling and had put his arm around her when Ade couldn’t.
‘Do stop crying now, Mum,’ Luke had said, dabbing clumsily at her face with a tissue. ‘You look like Alice Cooper. Dad couldn’t stand him.’
‘I know. He always said he looked like a panda in drag.’
Luke smiled. ‘Yeah, that was it. Look, you know you’ll always have a plus one while I’m around, Mum. I might not be as handsome as Dad but I’m a much better dancer. Dad was the king of jive, but I do a mean Time Warp.’ He had tightened his grip around her shoulders. ‘Which is far cooler, when you think about it.’
She had soaked his jumper sleeve with tears at this, grateful for his support. Ade was the eldest, but he hadn’t shown half of Luke’s gumption and when – to her surprise and intense disappointment – he had let them all down for the last time, Luke had been left to pick up the pieces.
Patricia felt the familiar flash of resentment. Someone needed to tell Ade about Luke. Would he come home? He deserved to know, he might want to come back. And where was Nell? Nell should be here; Patricia had called her as soon as she had received the call from Lucy. And where was Lucy? Patricia had no idea.
Unable to suppress it any longer, Patricia let out a heartfelt cry of anguish at what had happened to her beloved son.
Nell felt a warm arm snaking around her body. A male arm; solid and reassuring. Hairy, too. She opened her eyes blearily, wondering where she was. She snuck a look to her right. Ah, yes. It was all coming back to her now. She leant on her elbow and checked her watch. It was 4am. 4am on a Monday morning.
Nell lay back down with a jerky sigh. After struggling to concentrate on her portfolio the night before she had headed out for a few drinks with friends. It wasn’t something she normally did on a Sunday night, but for some reason, she had felt the urge to let her hair down. And somehow, she had ended up here. Nell shifted slightly, hearing Cal stir.
Nell stared at the ceiling. She hadn’t bargained on receiving a phone call from him asking her to come over to his flat late last night. Such a thing hadn’t figured in her plans and she had surprised herself by hesitating. Or rather, she had been taken aback that she had hesitated for only the briefest of moments. It had been a booty call, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. Which meant that she was weak. And stupid.
Did Cal deserve this, this instant acceptance of his request? Nell bit her stumpy fingernail, then abandoned it. He had barely spoken to her over the past few weeks. He had just about acknowledged her at college, but only because it had been unavoidable.
Nell knew she should feel guilty. She should feel used. But she didn’t. She felt desired and loved and beautiful. She felt horribly guilty, too, but the other feelings were outweighing the bad stuff and that was what she was struggling with. Last night had felt special, just like the other times. It probably wasn’t though – at least, not for him. How could it be?
Nell glanced round the room, not sure she liked what she saw. It was inherently masculine with dark furniture and old-fashioned drapes she suspected had come with the flat. The classic ‘man cave.’ But, on reflection, perhaps the fact that it lacked a woman’s touch was for the best.
‘Hey.’
Nell turned over. Cal’s blonde hair was tousled and his eyes were a murky green in the faded light. He wasn’t handsome, by any stretch of the imagination. He had a crooked nose, his face was a craggy map of wrinkles and he really needed a shave because her chin was ripped to pieces. He was also nearly thirty years older than her. And that wasn’t the worst part.
Nell studied Cal. It was his mind she admired, his intellect. He was older, wiser, experienced and … yes, he was caring. He really was. Other women definitely found him sexy – she had heard some of her friends discussing him in lectures. Not that he actually conducted many these days. Since he’d been promoted to the title of professor, he told Nell, his days were spent wading through paperwork with the ‘odd, joyous moment of teaching’ thrown in.
Yes, Nell decided. Cal was sexy. But there had to be more to it, otherwise she was going straight to hell. She didn’t have a current reference – the only one she could come up with was to liken Cal to the actor, Richard Burton. Maybe it was the Welsh thing; Nell wasn’t sure. Or the charisma. Or the …
‘I’m glad you came over.’ Cal reached out and stroked her thigh.
Nell leant over to grab her T-shirt, pulling it over her head. ‘Where’s my phone? I thought I heard it in the night.’
‘Haven’t a clue.’ Cal yawned. ‘Check the floor. Most of your stuff ended up there.’
Nell got out of bed and gathered up her things. Finding her phone, she frowned, noticing a number of missed calls and texts. Feeling a shiver of apprehension, she listened to one of them and, in a heartbeat, she was galvanised into action. Pulling her clothes on haphazardly, she grabbed her handbag and threw on her jacket.
‘Is something wrong?’ Cal sat up, his eyes radiating concern.
‘My brother … I have to get to the hospital.’
‘He works there, right?’
Nell urgently headed towards the door. ‘He’s been in an accident. It’s serious.’
Concerned, Cal padded over to her in his boxer shorts. He wore surprisingly trendy underwear for his age. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘No. No thanks. I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll be back for your lecture next week … especially as you don’t lecture much these days.’ She held something out. ‘Here.’
Cal’s fingers curled into a fist and his expression was rueful. ‘Call me later. I know how much your brother means to you.’
A sob caught in Nell’s throat. She wasn’t sure Cal had the first idea how she felt about Luke; their feelings about the importance of family hardly tallied. No, that was unfair. He did understand. And he did realise how important family was, which was why he was beating himself up about what they were doing.
Cal caught her arm suddenly, pulling her close. Their noses touched. ‘You know there has never been anyone else, don’t you? I’ve never done this before. It’s you … it’s only because of the way I feel about you.’
Nell nodded, feeling a flash of pleasure. She left Cal standing in his boxers clutching his cold, abandoned wedding band and started frantically combing the streets for a taxi.
‘Mum, calm down. He’s going to pull through.’
Nell tried to take a full breath but found that she couldn’t. She had tried hard to imagine how awful Luke might look on her taxi ride to the hospital, but this wasn’t what she had expected. The sticky, rust-brown blood, the machines, Luke’s dreadful pallor. It was shocking to see her brother, such a vital person, reduced to this.
‘How do you know that? How can you possibly know that Luke will pull through?’ Her mother was a mess, both physically and emotionally. Her hair was all over the place and she could barely string a sentence together. Pacing from one end of the room to another, she couldn’t sit still for a second and it was putting