Tom’s shoulders tensed. He should have parked in the corner next to the big prickly bush so she wouldn’t have seen it, but he’d been excited at the prospect of Christmasifying the care home and too busy finding a space big enough to open the back doors fully to think about it. ‘Oh, that.’ He kept his voice calm. ‘Just a little prang on the roundabout last Saturday.’
‘It doesn’t look like a little prang. It’s scraped right through your logo.’
How right she was. It had scared him to death, and he hadn’t slept properly since for fear of what might have happened and as his health worries intensified. The thought of the kids in the car, scared and shaken, still filled him with guilt a week later. His throat closed over at the memory trapping the fear and worry deep down in his belly. Nell ran her hand over the rough metal. He’d have to take it to the garage and get it sorted out. What would people think if he kept driving around town like that? A scraped-through logo didn’t exactly speak of a florist who took care. And Janie had been amazing when he’d got back and mentioned briefly what had happened. She’d immediately dived into his filing cabinet and pulled out the insurance details for him in case he needed to call them. Her age, cheerful demeanour and happy-go-lucky attitude belied a spot-on business sense and organised mind which had been exactly what he needed in his frazzled state.
‘Hang on,’ Nell said, scowling. ‘Did you say last Saturday? Why didn’t you say something when we were at the hotel that night?’
‘Just leave it, Nell, okay. Like I said, it’s just a prang. How’s the hotel?’
Suspicion writ large on her face, as his tone was entirely unconvincing. ‘The hotel is absolutely fine, thank you and don’t change the subject. As soon as I saw you in the hotel, I knew something had happened. You were really weird Saturday night. You were so quiet.’ There was the slightest edge of annoyance to her voice because he hadn’t confided in her, but it softened almost immediately. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me? I could have helped.’
‘I don’t know. It just slipped my mind,’ he lied.
‘How can it have slipped your mind? This was quite a “prang”.’ She made speech mark signs in the air with her fingers.
‘Why are you doing that?’ he asked teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.
‘Doing what?’
‘Making the bunny rabbit ears in mid-air.’ Nell scowled, unimpressed. ‘Nell, honestly, it’s fine. I just don’t want to talk about it, okay?’
‘Why not?’ Normally, he’d tell her everything and not just brush it off, so he knew this was an unusual response, but he just couldn’t bring himself to go through it all right now. ‘If it was just a prang, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. These things happen all the time. It could have happened to anyone.’
Tom took a deep breath and asked again if she’d let things be. He’d been stupid not to just tell her about it. Hiding it had made things so much worse. He should have known Nell would need to know everything so she could make him feel better. Tom had an enduring love of Christmas and had been so excited this morning. Now it was all leaching away and being replaced with guilt and shame. She’d hate to know he felt like that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to open up. The fear inside him was too strong. You didn’t have to be a genius to know it was an unhealthy response, but one he didn’t have the strength to fight this morning. ‘Can you help me unload some of this lot, please?’
‘No, not until you tell me exactly what happened.’ Even though she shivered as the cold wind whipped around the sides of the van, she crossed her arms over her giant parka, defiant and unmoving. At least she tried to cross her arms over; the coat was so big she didn’t quite manage it.
‘It’s freezing out here, Nell. I’m not standing in a car park in the cold explaining again.’
‘But you haven’t explained anything at all.’ Her arms fell back to her sides. ‘I’m not trying to nag you, I’m worried about you. Come on, Tom, talk to me. Don’t shut me out. Who else was involved? You looked so pale the other night. Why don’t you want to talk about it?’
‘Because it was my fault,’ he replied sharply. As he’d imagined and feared, Nell’s face registered first shock and then unease. She’d be disappointed in him – he was disappointed in himself – and he hated it. Forcing his fingers underneath his hat he scratched his head. ‘I checked before pulling out, but I didn’t see anything.’ Tom snatched up some willow branches from the boot of the van. ‘Look, I really don’t want to talk about it, Nell, okay. I feel terrible enough as it is.’
He knew he should tell her about all the other things that were going on with his sight: the swimmers, the time it was taking for his eyes to adjust to darkness, the accidents he’d had in the middle of the night when he’d bashed into things walking to the toilet. And of course, the headaches. They were the most worrying thing.
‘Okay,’ she replied, her voice quiet, accepting the matter was closed. She moved beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze, then drew it down his back. It was supposed to be a friendly gesture but his feelings for Nell surged at her touch. He so wanted to turn around and let her hug him, but it was getting harder and harder to be close to her knowing she’d never
