Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Mum had been struggling through the night. She was slumped against her pillows as I took her morning coffee in, barely stirring as I helped her into her daytime oxygen. She smiled, but her eyes weren’t sparkling their usual shine, making it more obvious than ever that her time left was fading.
It only reinforced the urgency of the list on her wall.
Every time Chloe brushed past me in the corridors that morning it sent an undeniable wave of hope through me, but hope was unfounded. Hope was more often than not a false high that led to a greater low. I knew that much.
She poked her pretty face around my consultation room doorway that lunchtime, a big bright smile ready to greet me, and I smiled back as she stepped inside.
“Just wanted to say thanks,” she said. “For an amazing weekend.”
“The thanks are mine to give,” I told her. “For giving an amazing weekend to both me and my mother.”
She took a seat opposite me. “I hope we can have plenty more of them. Motorcycle ride next, right?”
I should have taken my first steps towards retreat there and then, for Chloe’s sake more than my own, but I couldn’t. The beautiful grin on that beautiful face quashed any scraps of realism left in my brain.
Ride the back of a motorcycle around a sharp corner. I pictured Mum’s handwriting and her eyes glittering every time she read the list aloud.
“Can you ride? I motorcycle, I mean?”
“Yes, I can,” I told her, “Not for years though. And I’d need a motorcycle to put her on the back of first,” I said, and in typical Chloe style she shrugged at me.
“So get a motorcycle.” She grinned. “I’m sure you could hire one, right?”
I leant across the desk to take her hand. “Yes, Chloe, I could hire one.”
“Great.”
“Super cool,” I said, and laughed.
“Well, I… um… better get back and leave you to it…” She made to leave, but I didn’t let go of her hand. I couldn’t. I gripped her tight and moved around the desk, my mouth so desperate for hers that I couldn’t stop myself. Her hands wrapped around my shoulders, just as desperate for the kiss as I was, both of us so caught up in this fatal craving that we were fireworks, soaring up to explode, set to fall down in tatters and ashes in the fatal aftermath.
Because that’s what this was. Fatal.
Tatters and ashes waiting to fall after an explosion that lit up the sky.
She just didn’t know it yet.
Typically, of all the points in the day for someone to burst unannounced into my office, Wendy Briars picked that moment to head on in with a clipboard in her hand. She jumped back, shocked in a bluster, eyes skipping from me to Chloe as though she’d just walked in on the moon landing.
“Sorry!” she said. “Oh wow, I’m sorry. I should’ve knocked.”
I held a hand up, awkward, blustering right back at her that it was fine, no apology needed, and Chloe was blustering along with me, freckled cheeks scarlet and eyes wide as she backed away.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, and was off, skittish legs carrying her out through the door.
Wendy was still shocked, holding her clipboard limply in her hands as she stared over.
“Can I help?” I asked, and she snapped back to it, clearing her throat and working through some nurse schedule details for the coming week.
I knew it would be around the ward in no time, not because Wendy was a gossip of any kind, but because that kind of sight would be too bizarre an event for her to resist sharing. Strangely enough, that felt ok. Everything about my relationship with that pretty young thing felt strangely ok.
I only saw Chloe in passing as she was heading down the corridor that evening. She was nervous, smiling her shy smile as she stepped up to me.
“My train to Halsey leaves soon,” she paused. “I guess I’m going home to Halsey, right? I mean, you work late, and it’s a Monday, and I’ve been with you all weekend, and…” She laughed to herself. “Sorry.”
“You’d better get your white rabbit feet on the run,” I told her. “Yes, it’s a Monday, and I work late. You being with me all weekend has nothing to do with it.”
“Great,” she said.
“Enjoy your evening,” I said, but we stood there, staring.
“About the motorcycle…” her words were as nervous as her smile. “I guess you’ll want someone to photo it, and take a video maybe, so you remember it?”
“That would be good,” I laughed. “Super cool, in fact. Was that an offer?”
“Yeah, that was an offer.” Her nervous smile morphed into a grin as she backed away. “Better get that train.”
“Run, rabbit, run,” I said, and she did. Skittish legs carrying her off on another journey.