Page 116 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
I sigh. ‘If Julian likes me in any way other than as a friend then it’s his issue not mine. I’ve made it very clear to him that’s how I feel. I thought you knew that?’
‘I do. It’s just that he’s a fit, able-bodied man – rich, too. You’d be much better off with him than with me. I’m only going to hold you back.’
I grab hold of the steering wheel and bang my head against it a couple of times, but I’ve forgotten that the horn is in the centre of the wheel so it beeps a couple of times too.
Jack and I both laugh.
‘That’s more like it,’ I say, taking hold of his hand. ‘Jack, you know how much I care for you. I’ve told you, haven’t I?’
Jack nods. ‘But—’
‘No buts,’ I say, putting my finger on his lips. ‘I care aboutyou, Jack! Not about your ability to run a marathon or sprint up a flight of stairs. I don’t want your legs. I want you! Why can’t you see that?’
Jack takes hold of my other hand and pulls it gently away from his mouth so he’s now holding on to both of my hands.
‘I don’t deserve you,’ he whispers. ‘I really don’t.’
‘Yes, you do,’ I tell him. ‘Even if I am quite the catch!’ I lean in to him and we kiss, and as always when I kiss Jack in that moment I forget everything else that’s going on around us. On this occasion, however, the fact that we’re sitting in the middle of a petrol station doesn’t fade out for too long as a car behind us toots its horn.
I pull away from Jack and turn towards the car behind us. ‘All right!’ I call through the open window. ‘Some of us are having a romantic moment here!’
‘Get a room then, love!’ the driver calls back.
‘Oh, I intend to,’ I tell him, as I start the engine again. ‘Don’t you worry!’
I pull out into the traffic again, and I glance at Jack. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile quite so much as he is right now.
‘Hi, again,’ I say to Susan, as we stand on her daughter’s doorstep waiting to go inside.
‘Hello, Kate. Hi, Jack,’ Susan says, standing back to let us pass. ‘Thank you for coming. We’re just through here.’
We follow her through the hallway of the Victorian terrace house towards a living room at the back.
‘Now, I can’t guarantee this is going to help,’ Susan says, stopping just short of the entrance. ‘Like I’ve warned you before, Mom can be… difficultto communicate with on her best days.’
‘We can only try,’ I say gently.
Susan nods, and we follow her into the room.
Sunlight streams through two tall French windows at the end of a large bright sitting room. It’s furnished in a comfortable yet modern style and dotted about with artistic touches. A large sofa and two armchairs bathe in the natural light, and sitting in one of the chairs is a young woman, and in the other a much older one.
I pause as we enter the room. I knew coming here today and meeting the Maggie from our pictures for the first time was going to be slightly odd, but what I hadn’t banked on was also seeing someone who looked just like her.
Susan’s daughter stands up to greet us. It’s truly amazing – she looks exactly how I’d imagined Maggie would when she’d grown up. She has the same eyes, the same pale complexion and the same jet black hair that our Maggie had so often tied into pigtails, but that this Maggie has pinned up into a loose bun.
‘Hi, I’m Maggie,’ she says, coming over to shake our hands. ‘Thank you so much for coming today. This is my grandmother … What do you wish to be called today, Granny?’ she asks in a clear voice.
The older woman, who doesn’t appear to have even noticed us as we enter the room, stares up with confusion at her granddaughter.
‘We have visitors, Granny,’ young Maggie says again. ‘Would you like to be called Peggy or Maggie today? She changes her mind on an almost daily basis,’ she explains to us. ‘Don’t you, Granny?’
The old woman turns towards us now, but she doesn’t say anything. She just looks intently at us with the same eyes that her granddaughter has – first at me, and then at Jack.
‘You’re in a wheelchair,’ she says. ‘I was in a wheelchair once.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Jack says, pushing himself over towards her.
‘Your chair is a lot fancier than mine was. I had to be pushed around by my mother, and that wasn’t fun for either of us.’ She grins at Jack.
