‘Don’t overdo it now,’ the nurse said as she walked to the stairs. ‘Take it slow.’
They’d removed the bandages above Allie’s left eye now, and she could just about see out of it, although it was still swollen. She had a long row of stitches in the hairline, where something had hit her head. Her left arm and shoulder were still in a cast that made her arm stick out at an absurd angle.
‘OK,’ she replied, turning and beginning her shaky progress the other direction.
… five steps, six, seven …
‘Should you be doing that alone?’
Looking up, Allie saw Carter standing at the top of the stairs, watching her slow progress.
‘As long as I don’t overdo it.’
‘Are you overdoing it?’ His eyes were sad.
‘Probably.’
‘That’s what I figured.’
‘How are you?’ She studied his face with concern. ‘You know. Since … everything.’
Until now, she’d seen him only once since Jo’s death, and then he’d been pale and lost looking, but she’d been so grief-stricken and out of it on painkillers she hadn’t been able to think of anything useful to say.
‘I can’t believe you’re asking me that question,’ he said. ‘Haven’t they got mirrors up here?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Doctors can’t see their reflections in them. Drives them crazy.’
‘I thought that was vampires.’
She shrugged and then winced, remembering she couldn’t shrug yet. ‘Same difference.’
‘Well, I’m not busy,’ he said. ‘I guess I could take this fascinating tour with you for a while. I like the view: bathroom, bed, staircase, wall …’
He was trying to cheer her up, like everyone else. But sad people can’t make sad people happy.
‘I met your parents.’ Holding her good arm, he walked beside her down the hall. ‘They seem nice.’
‘Are you sure those were my parents?’ Gritting her teeth with effort, Allie lifted her feet. ‘Maybe you got them confused with someone else’s.’
He almost smiled. ‘They called themselves Mr and Mrs Sheridan so I’m pretty sure they’re yours.’
‘Don’t believe their lies.’ Allie was breathing heavily from the pain. ‘Anyway. I’m trying to get them to go home now that I’m better.’
‘Well, it’s good that they’re here for you,’ he said.
She didn’t reply.
‘Can I ask a question?’ he said after they’d made two circuits of the corridor. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘They won’t let me go downstairs until I can walk up and down the hall ten times without falling down or fainting or something,’ she explained. ‘I want to go downstairs.’
‘How many have you done today?’ he asked when they reached the end of the hallway.
‘Eight.’ Exhausted, she leaned against the wall to rest.
He looked at her with concern. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t do any more.’
She shrugged and winced again. ‘Nah. I’m enjoying this.’ Brushing the hair back from her face, she said, ‘If you’re tired though, you know, we could rest.’
Unexpectedly, he leaned over and brushed his lips lightly against the top of her head. ‘I’m so sorry, Allie.’
Looking away, she blinked back the tears that threatened never to stop. ‘Me too. I can’t get used to it. It doesn’t seem real. I miss her.’
Turning, she took a step and promptly lost her balance. As if he’d expected that, he caught her easily and directed her towards her room. ‘OK, Miss Sheridan, I think that’s enough exercise for one afternoon.’
She climbed into bed without argument. He pulled the covers up over her legs, and rolled the side table back into place. When she was settled, he walked to the door. For a minute she thought he’d just leave without saying goodbye.
But at the last second he turned back to look at her.
‘Keep breathing, Allie.’
Trying not to cry, she nodded. Then she counted his footsteps as he walked away.
When he was gone she whispered after him: ‘Always.’