He bent down and kissed me. “That statement lacks conviction.”
He was right.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Back in Long Barston, I found a parking place on the street, just two buildings down from The Cabinet of Curiosities, and took it. Unusual, even for a Monday. The rain must have been keeping people at home. As I hurried down the street, the wind whipped at my umbrella.
I turned the key in the lock, stepped over the pile of mail on the floor, and punched in the security code. The alarm company still hadn’t called about upgrading Ivor’s system. That made me uneasy. If one thief had made it inside without alerting the police, why not others?
Except for the ticking of a Georgian mantel clock, the shop was silent.
I flipped through the mail. Thank goodness—no more official letters from Waltham & Crewe, demanding reimbursement for the húnpíng. Either things weren’t done that way in the UK or Lucy had persuaded them to drop the lawsuit. And no more demands for the return of consignment items either. I refused to even hope we were turning a corner. Fate loves nothing better than a good laugh.
My plan was to check for phone messages, then head to the hospital in Ipswich. I’d called the nurses’ station that morning and learned that Ivor was woozy but awake and asking for me.
I couldn’t wait to see him.
Lucy hadn’t returned my call or my text. I texted again. Is everything all right? Call me.
I was gathering my things and heading out when I heard a noise coming from the back alley. It sounded like someone was doing something with the rubbish bin.
Monday wasn’t the day for collection.
Leaving my things on the counter, I crept into the stockroom and peered out one of the barred windows. Henry Liu was mounting his delivery bicycle. A large blue and white striped umbrella covered both the rider and the insulated cargo box.
Rain hit my face as I opened the door. “Mr. Liu,” I shouted. “Is there something you need?”
I must have startled him because he jumped. “I … erm, I didn’t think anyone would be in today. How is Mr. Tweedy?”
“Awake, thank goodness. I was just on my way to see him.”
“Give him my regards. Tell him if there’s any way I can be of help, he has only to ask.”
“That’s very kind. Was there something you wanted? I heard a sound.”
Mr. Liu blinked. “I was checking his rubbish bin. We’ve had some rodent activity.”
He pedaled off, leaving me puzzled. Rats would have to be either desperate or deranged to bother with Ivor’s bin—not with a Chinese takeaway a few doors down.
Dashing out, I lifted the lid, finding nothing but the rubbish bag I’d tossed in there last Saturday.
Ivor was asleep when I arrived. Most of his tubes and lines had been disconnected. He was snoring softly.
Dr. Chaudhry met me in the hallway outside the ward. “Mr. Tweedy is doing well, very well indeed. Still quite sleepy, but that’s to be expected.” He beamed at me. “It will take another day or so before the sedation is completely out of his system, but I believe we can transfer him to The Willows by Wednesday.”
“The nurse on the phone warned me about stress.”
“His brain needs time to heal. No computer work, nothing mentally taxing at first. He’ll be monitored at The Willows for dizziness or mood changes. Depression is common after a head injury like this. His thought processes will take time to normalize.”
I couldn’t imagine Ivor, the optimist, struggling with depression. Even so, I wouldn’t bring up Evelyn Villiers and the missing húnpíng unless he asked.
I thanked the doctor and returned to Ivor’s bedside.
“Hello, Ivor,” I said softly. “Before you ask, everything’s fine at the shop. I shipped out a few items that sold last week. Henry Liu said to tell you if there’s anything you need, just ask.” When he didn’t respond, I pressed on. “I delivered the Little Domesday translation to Professor Markham last week. He’s quite a character, by the way. Oh, and tomorrow is the auction at Oakley’s Barn. Lady Barbara is selling a set of Regency chairs and a Georgian silver coffee pot. If things go well, we might try the carved cinnabar plate.”
I sounded like Pollyanna. If Ivor was alert, he’d see through me in a minute.
I looked at him, all five foot four of him, tucked up under the flannel sheet. Shouldn’t he be awake? Had he fallen back into unconsciousness? I felt a frisson of fear.
All of the nurses were busy attending to other patients.
I was about to alert someone, when I felt him squeeze my hand.
I jumped. “Ivor? It’s me—Kate.”
His eyes were closed, but a slow smile spread across his face. “I know. I love you too.”
I left the hospital in high spirits. Ivor hadn’t said another word—he’d drifted back to sleep almost immediately—but it was enough. Not only was he lucid, he’d actually heard all the soppy things I’d said to him while he was unconscious. The human brain is amazing.
I tried Tom’s number. When I didn’t get him, I left a text message: Ivor’s awake! Transfer to Willows possible Weds. Talk soon. Then, because I just had to share the good news, I called my mother. It was mid-morning in the Central Time Zone.
She picked up immediately. “Linnea Larson here.”
“Hi, Mom. Ivor’s awake and talking. He’s going to be okay.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I’ve been wondering about him but didn’t want to disturb you. I know you have a lot on your mind.”
“And I haven’t wanted to bother you on vacation.”
“Hearing from my daughter is never a bother. Tell me about Ivor.”
“He’s sleepy but pretty much over the sedation. They’re going to move him back to The Willows before the end of the week. What have you been doing?”
“Just now? Packing up
