Page 123 of My Kind of Happy

Sam stroked my hair while he told me the rest. How Freddie had made it to Rav’s house and given him his last ride on a bike before delivering him safely back home to Yasmin. How Rav had died the following day, and his baby girl was born prematurely a week later.

The story made me cry. I cried for Freddie, I cried for Rav and I cried for Yasmin who must have gone through so much in the weeks and months after the birth of her child.

‘All this time, I’ve thought Freddie was selfish and thoughtless to have ridden his bike along that dangerous road,’ I said, pulling another tissue from the box Sam had found in the kitchen. ‘But I should have trusted him. He’d been the exact opposite. He’d have been so happy to be able to do that one last thing for Rav. He’d lived the life he set out to live to the letter, right until his very last breath. I’m so proud of him.’

Sam brushed away my tears with his fingertips. ‘So you should be. He made Rav’s last day on earth a happy one.’

‘I want to show you something.’ I blew my nose and went inside to fetch Freddie’s letter for Sam to read.

‘That’s incredible,’ Sam said, sniffing, after he’d finished it. ‘Bloody hell, even I’m crying.’

‘Freddie was an amazing man,’ I said, and then I had a thought. ‘I’d like to meet Yasmin; do you think she’d be OK with that?’

He looked at me thoughtfully for a long moment. ‘Yasmin has been suffering with guilt over texting Freddie ever since that day. I’m sure she would.’

‘The poor girl,’ I said, trying to put myself in her shoes. I shuddered; it didn’t bear thinking about. I had a sudden urge to wrap my arms around her and tell her to let go of that guilt. ‘Why don’t we go now?’

‘Now now?’ Sam laughed in surprise.

I nodded. Hearing about Yasmin and Rav had answered some of the questions which had had me perplexed for nearly a year. Now I wanted to know more; I had to know more. This was the closure I’d been searching for and if Yasmin had feelings of guilt, perhaps meeting me would be cathartic for her too.

‘You won’t be needing those.’ I pointed to his helmet and leathers. ‘Because I’ll drive.’

‘Understood. I hope that one day you’ll trust me enough to take you out on my bike, but I’ll wait for you to be ready.’

We were still sitting in the garden side by side and I rested my head against his shoulder.

‘Thank you,’ I said.

I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready for that but the thought that there might be other days like this, the two of us – three including Scamp – having adventures made my heart soar. I’d been adamant that I’d never let anyone close to me again for fear of losing them, but now I wasn’t so sure.

‘I’ll call Yasmin first,’ he said sensibly. ‘This is going to be a shock for her.’

He was right, but I knew how easy it was to turn people down on the phone. In the first six months after Freddie’s death I rebuffed everybody’s attempts to come and visit. I thought I was better hiding myself away and dealing with my grief alone. If Yasmin didn’t want to see us, she could turn us away when we got there, but at least we’d have tried.

‘Wait,’ I said, as he took his phone out. I got to my feet. ‘Let’s go on spec. You can knock on the door and warn her before I crawl out of the woodwork and if she’s out, or she’d rather not, you can buy me lunch instead.’

He sat there for a moment looking up at me, a gooey smile on his face. ‘Deal.’

‘Come on then, slowcoach.’ I held a hand out to him and he stood up.

‘You’re full of surprises,’ he said, kissing my fingers.

‘Says the man who turned up in biker gear and knew my brother!’ I shook my head, still taking it all in.

‘Fearne,’ he whispered huskily. He lowered his head towards mine and I stepped closer, holding my breath. ‘Would it be OK if I …’

I don’t know who made the final move to cross the gap between us, but one minute my heart was fluttering and the next it took flight. His kiss, when it came, lit me up from inside like sunshine. His arms slipped around my waist, drawing me to him, my hands in his hair, touching the soft part of his neck. I’d dreamed about his kiss and the feel of his skin underneath my hands and the pressure of his body against mine; it was everything I’d hoped it would be and more. And all at once I didn’t care that he was a biker or he had an ex-wife or that this could either be the start of something wonderful or the end of a friendship. Because in that moment everything felt like it was slotting into place.

It was another half an hour before we stopped kissing and made it into the car.

‘It’s not quite the romantic date I had planned,’ said Sam, in a muffled voice.

My heart skipped at the word romantic but when I looked across at the passenger seat I burst out laughing. Scamp was pressed up to Sam as tightly as the seat belt, his tongue out and hanging perilously close to Sam’s lips.

‘He’s not used to sharing,’ I chuckled.

Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘Sharing you or sharing the front seat?’