‘It’s the shagging,’ said Fred. ‘I’m sure that’s the cure. I bet I’d have got over Jilly much faster with all the shagging.’
Natasha and William exchanged a strange look.
‘I’d like to come until the end of the term, if it’s okay,’ I said to Marc. ‘It’s just … I’ve come to think of you all as my friends. I might not need it, but I would still like to come for a bit longer. Just to make sure. And, you know, to see everyone.’
Jake gave a small smile.
‘We should probably go dancing,’ said Natasha.
‘You can come for as long as you want,’ said Marc. ‘That’s what we’re here for.’
My friends. A motley group, but then most friends are.
Orecchiette cooked al dente, pine-nuts, basil, home-grown tomatoes, olives, tuna and Parmesan cheese. I had made the pasta salad to the recipe Lily gave me over the phone as she was fed instructions by her grandmother.
‘Good invalid food,’ Camilla shouted, from some distant kitchen. ‘Easy to digest if he’s spending a lot of time lying down.’
‘I’d just buy him a takeaway,’ muttered Lily. ‘Poor man’s suffered enough.’ She cackled quietly. ‘Anyway, I thought you preferred him lying down.’
I walked along the hospital corridor later that evening feeling quietly proud of my little Tupperware box of domesticity. I had made this supper the night before and now carried it in front of me like a badge of honour, half hoping someone would stop me and ask what it was. Yes, my boyfriend is recuperating. I bring him food every day. Just little things he might fancy. You know I grew these tomatoes myself?
Sam’s wounds were beginning to heal, the internal damage clearing. He tried to get up too often, and was grumpy about being stuck in bed and worried about his animals, even though Donna, Jake and I had set up a reasonably good animal husbandry schedule.
Two to three weeks, the consultants reckoned. If he did what he was told. Given the extent of his injuries he had been lucky. More than one conversation had taken place in my presence where medical professionals had murmured, ‘A centimetre the other way and …’ I sang la-la-la-la-la-la in my head during those conversations.
I reached his corridor and buzzed myself in, cleaning my hands with the antibacterial foam, as I pushed at the door with my hip.
‘Evening,’ said the nurse with glasses. ‘You’re late!’
‘Had to go to a meeting.’
‘You just missed his mum. She brought him the most delicious homemade steak and ale pie. You could smell it all the way down the ward. We’re still salivating.’
‘Oh.’ I lowered my box. ‘That’s nice.’
‘Good to see him tuck in. The consultant will be round in about half an hour.’
I was just about to put the Tupperware into my bag when my phone rang. I pressed answer, still wrestling with the zip.
‘Louisa?’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Leonard Gopnik.’
It took me two seconds to register his name. I made to speak, then stood very still, glancing around me stupidly as if he could be somewhere nearby.
‘Mr Gopnik.’
‘I got your email.’
‘Right.’ I put the food container on the chair.
‘It was an interesting read. I was pretty surprised when you turned down my job offer. As was Nathan. You seemed suited to it.’
‘It’s like I said in my email. I did want it, Mr Gopnik, but I … well … things came up.’
‘So is this girl doing okay now?’
‘Lily. Yes. She’s in school. She’s happy. She’s with her family. Her new family. It was just a period of … adjustment.’
‘You took that very seriously.’
‘I’m not the kind of person who can just leave someone behind.’
There was a long silence. I turned away from Sam’s room and gazed out of the window at the car park, watching as an oversized 4x4 tried and failed to negotiate its way into a too-small parking space. Forwards and backwards. I could see it wasn’t going to fit.
‘So here’s the thing, Louisa. It’s not working out with our new employee. She’s not happy. For whatever reason she and my wife are not really comfortable with each other. By mutual agreement she’s leaving at the end of the month. Which leaves me with a problem.’
I listened.
‘I would like to offer you the job. But I don’t like upheaval, especially when it involves people close to me. So I guess I’m calling because I’m trying to get a clear picture of what it is you actually want.’
‘Oh, I did really want it. But I –’
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around, and there was Sam, leaning against the wall. ‘I – er –’
‘You got another position?’
‘I got a promotion.’
‘Is it a position you want to stay in?’
Sam was watching my face.
‘N-not necessarily. But –’
‘But obviously you have to weigh it all up. Okay. Well, I imagine that I’ve probably caught you by surprise with this call. But on the back of what you wrote me, if you’re genuinely still interested I’d like to offer you the job. Same terms, to start as soon as possible. That’s as long as you’re sure that it’s something you really want. Do you think you can let me know within forty-eight hours?’
‘Yes. Yes, Mr Gopnik. Thank you. Thank you for calling.’
I heard him click off. I looked up at Sam. He was wearing a hospital dressing gown over his too-short hospital nightshirt. Neither of us spoke for a moment.
‘You’re up. You should be in bed.’
‘I saw you through the window.’
‘One ill-timed breeze and those nurses are going to be talking about you till Christmas.’
‘Was that the New York guy?’
I felt, oddly, busted. I put my phone in my pocket and reached for the Tupperware container. ‘The position came up again.’ I watched his gaze slide briefly away from me. ‘But it’s … I’ve only just got you back. So I’m going to say no. Look, do you think you can manage some pasta after your epic pie? I know you’re probably full, but it’s so rare that I manage to cook something that’s actually edible.’