Amy seemed to understand. Stretching up in his arms, she planted a kiss on his cheek, and Jon struggled to keep his composure.
‘Thank you, Amy. That feels much better now.’ He stroked the little girl’s light auburn curls and she snuggled into his arms.
‘Would you like to give Jon his get-well parcel?’ Chloe sat down on the moulded plastic chair next to his bed and opened her bag.
The parcel was wrapped in sparkly blue and gold paper, which was obviously designed to appeal to Amy. The little girl sat on the bed next to him and Chloe placed the parcel into her lap. She slid one finger under the wrappings, and slowly started to tear them.
Chloe grinned. ‘No, Amy, it’s for Jon. Give it to him.’
Amy pretended not to hear and Jon leaned over. ‘You’re going to unwrap it for me, aren’t you?’
He helped her with the sticky tape, holding her tight so she didn’t slip off the bed, and hoping that none of the nurses saw them and came to tell him that a child really shouldn’t be sitting on his bed. Chloe seemed to have the same thought and turned, pulling the curtains a little so that they weren’t immediately visible from the door.
Inside the parcel was a book and a packet of chocolate buttons. Amy left the book for him and picked up the chocolate.
‘Hey, that’s lovely, Amy. Thank you.’ He picked up the book and Amy handed him the chocolate buttons, clearly wanting him to open them and give them straight back. He shot Chloe an enquiring glance, wondering if it was all right for Amy to have the chocolate.
‘Just a few.’ She pressed her lips together in wry humour. ‘The chocolate’s from me. Amy chose the book.’
He laughed, ignoring the painful protest from his eye. ‘She likes whodunnits, does she? Thank you, Chloe.’
Thank you for the book and the chocolate, and for wrapping them up. For bringing Amy. For yesterday, and for being here today. Thank you for being so beautiful.
‘You’re welcome.’
He was sure now. Chloe and he weren’t perfect for each other, they were different in so many ways. But while perfect was nice, wanting was everything. And Jon knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that everything he wanted was here now. He would get out of here, get himself back together and win her back.
* * *
She came again on Sunday, this time alone. Amy and Hannah had gone to James’s for lunch, and it was clear that Chloe had missed the family gathering to come and see him.
‘So they’re letting you out today?’
‘Looks like it. I’m waiting for the duty doctor to sign me off, and then me and my crutches are free to go.’ He indicated the pair of crutches that were propped up behind his chair.
‘So—how long?’
Jon grinned. ‘Who knows? I offered to sign myself off, but the nurses didn’t think much of that suggestion.’
‘No. Don’t suppose they did. Well, I’ll wait and take you home.’
‘I can get a taxi.’ He didn’t want to push things just yet.
‘Don’t you dare.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’m going to go and ask where the doctor is. Has the pharmacy sent up your drugs yet?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Then I’ll see what I can do to chase them up, too.’
Chloe’s enquiries seemed to bear more fruit than his, possibly because she was able to follow people and buttonhole them, rather than having to wait for them to come to her. It took another hour, but by two o’clock he was being wheeled to the hospital entrance by a porter, his possessions packed into a plastic bag. He waited on a bench beside the automatic doors, which delivered a blast of cold air every time someone walked through them, and when he saw Chloe’s car draw up outside he got carefully to his feet.
She got him into the car and was on the main road, driving away from the hospital, before she dropped the bombshell. ‘You’re coming home with me for a decent meal. And you can stay the night. Hannah and Amy are staying over at James’s tonight, so you can take their room.’
In her house. Surrounded by her scent. That wasn’t a good idea. He needed to be stronger before he could even think about putting his plan into operation.
‘Thanks, but...I’m okay. I’d really like to go home.’
‘So you can lie in bed and look at the hole in the ceiling? Hannah told me that your bedroom’s a right mess.’