But it made sense. Particularly after she’d tried to press life back into poor Becky’s heart and failed. Thousands of compressions she’d done, along with Raven, of course. That girl … that girl was someone you wanted by your side in a crisis. 111 didn’t know what they had in her. A shoe-in to replace Rachel Woolley if the woman ever left the call centre which, if Flo were in charge, would’ve happened some time ago.
She and Trevor had been right in the end, about the pothole. Sue had gunned that huge old van up a hill until it took flight and when it had landed with an almighty slam … Becky had blinked up at the two of them as if she were a newborn kitten. A middle-aged, slightly overweight newborn kitten, but there had been an expression of such innocence on her face … such joy … as if the only thing she needed in life was air. She’d looked Flo right in the eye and said, ‘Ginny?’ Then she’d sucked in an almighty breath and passed out again. They’d had quite a palaver determining whether or not they needed to carry on with the compressions or look for another pothole, but two of the tyres had burst and, of course, the mud had begun to absorb the two that hadn’t, but mercifully they had signal by then and a 999 call operator on the other end of the line giving instructions and continual assurances that, as the rain was clearing, an air ambulance was on its way. Perhaps she’d apply for a position on their team—
‘Flo?’ Sue touched her arm and pointed towards the other side of the market square (cobbled!!!) where riders had gathered for their ‘Brand New Stretch’ as they’d taken to calling Fola’s pre-ride sessions. ‘Isn’t that your Stuart?’
And so it was. Her Stuart. Heart hammering every bit as much as it had when she walked down the aisle some forty-odd years ago, she hobbled over to him trying not to betray just how stiff she was. ‘Stu?’ she said, and then, ‘What have you done with Captain George?’ And that’s when she saw what Stu had done. Next to him was a bright red, electric, bicycle built for two with a tented trailer attachment inside of which, on his favourite blanket and with his favourite toy, was Captain George.
‘I thought you might like a bit of company for this last bit,’ Stu said.
Flo threw herself at her husband, hugging him so tightly he eventually wheezed a plea for her to loosen her grip.
‘You saw?’ she asked, hoping he knew she meant the clips on the news from Raven’s Instagram feed of her dragging herself up the hill and then bouncing around the countryside with Becky, the CPR, the helicopter, but most of all the shame that she’d felt for being so daft as to think a ride like this would be a piece of cake. It had been so very hard, and for a thousand different reasons than she would’ve thought. She loved her husband. She needed him. And at exactly the moment she needed him most, here he was, helping her complete a journey she hadn’t realised she needed to make. And she wasn’t talking about Hexham to Tynemouth.
He nodded. ‘I saw.’
‘You came.’
He nodded again, clearly bemused at the astonishment in her voice. ‘Of course I came. You’re my Maypole, aren’t you?’
What? No. Stuart was her maypole. Oh, she chided him for it, the fussing, the bothering, the endless delays until they read the instruction manual properly, but … everyone needed someone in their lives to read the manual, didn’t they? Guidelines existed for a reason. They were, more of than not, very helpful.
‘We haven’t really known what to do with ourselves, George and I,’ Stu said, leading Flo over to George so she could have a proper cuddle. ‘When we saw everything you’d been through, well …’ He pointed at the tandem. ‘We thought you might like a bit of company.’
‘But how did you organise all of this? It was only on the news last night. And when I rang …’
‘When you rang we were already on the road.’
‘What?’
‘We spent the night in Harrogate and got up extra early. Didn’t we, George? Woke up early this morning and hit the ground running … well … in the car anyway.’
‘But Stu? How did you find an electric tandem bicycle after six o’clock in the evening?’
Stuart’s expression turned sheepish. ‘I got it the day you left. About two hours after being in the house alone. George and I couldn’t stand it, could we, lad?’ He reached back and gave the dog’s head a gentle stroke.
‘But … but you’re home all the time,’ Flo said. ‘On your own.’
‘Aye, but … love,’ Stuart’s eyes unexpectedly glassed over as he reached out to take her hand in his. ‘Those times we always knew you were coming back.’
An intense, life-affirming rush of love coursed through her so hard and fast, Flo felt positively light-headed.
‘I love you, Florence Wilson,’ Stuart said. ‘You’re the light of my life and I’d like to keep you round as long as possible.’ Then he leant towards her, and for the third time in his life, kissed Flo in public.
The closer Raven got to Newcastle, the more uncomfortable she felt. And not just because her bum bandages were shifting
