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‘There’s been an accident.’ Rita’s hand went to the doorframe. ‘Thom’s in Polheron General.’

FIFTY-TWO

Thom lay back on the hospital bed, the ache of the impact beginning to settle properly now the adrenaline had drained away.

A chair scraped beside him.

‘Poppy?’ His half-closed eyes blinked open.

Her nurse’s uniform was creased from a long shift, hair half-pinned up as though she had stopped caring somewhere around hour ten.

‘You’re a very lucky boy.’

Thom gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘That what we’re calling it?’

Her mouth twitched, but never fully smiled. ‘Two more feet and you’d have been a goner.’

He looked smaller somehow lying there, stripped of all the noise and swagger he usually carried around with him. A black eye was already darkening into a proper shiner and his left wrist sat awkwardly in plaster.

Poppy stayed beside him, finishing her notes. Clinical. Controlled.

But her voice wasn’t. She kept her eyes on the paperwork as she spoke. ‘I think I can say this to you now.’ She cleared her throat. ‘When I see you… my heart still does that stupid little flip.’

Thom let out a tired laugh. ‘Really?’

‘Then my head catches up,’ she admitted quietly. ‘And it reminds me I’ve got Hugo. Stable. Kind. Someone who doesn’t make everything feel like total chaos.’ She paused briefly. ‘And most importantly… somebody I can trust.’

Thom winced theatrically against the pillow. ‘Ouch. Think that hurts more than the wrist, actually.’

Poppy ignored him completely.

Outside the partly drawn curtain, Chloe had just arrived.

She slowed when she heard voices, instinctively lingering to see who was with Thom. The ward around her buzzed with trolley wheels, monitors, and distant conversations, swallowing half the words being said and leaving only fragments behind.

‘I want something steady now, Thom,’ Poppy continued softly. ‘That’s all. And weirdly… you helped me realise that.’

‘That’ll be ten pounds exactly for my dating expertise,’ Thom replied, sounding dazed.

Poppy laughed under her breath and rested a hand lightly over his. ‘I am sorry you’re going through this though.’

Thom exhaled slowly. ‘Everything happens for a reason and all that.’

From where Chloe stood, all she really saw was the nurse leaning closer towards him. Then her lifting Thom’s hand and pressing a gentle kiss against his knuckles before standing to leave.

A quiet intimacy. The kind that looked like it belonged to two people who already understood each other without words.

Another nurse called down the ward. ‘Poppy? You’ve been over shift an hour already. Haven’t you got a home to go to?’

Chloe’s expression tightened instantly.

For a moment she stood frozen behind the curtain, eyes burning, humiliation and heartbreak crashing together in one awful wave. Then she turned sharply before either of them could see her, tears already rolling down her cheeks as she scurried away down the corridor.

FIFTY-THREE

Rita quietly pulled back the curtains around Thom’s bed. He looked exhausted. The pain medication had dulled the sharpest edges, but not enough to stop every movement pulling across his ribs and wrist. Bruising spread darker now beneath his eye. Rita’s face was pale with worry. Sennen followed close behind carrying an overnight bag for him, while Hilda brought up the rear with the expression of somebody fully prepared to fight if her grandson wasn’t being cared for in the right way.

‘Bloody hell,’ Hilda muttered the second she saw him properly. ‘You look like roadkill.’