Page 25

Jack

Arthur moved his chess piece at a snail’s pace. It was nice, a chance for me to relax while Arthur’s mind worked in overtime to make the best move he could.

I’d taken my seat in a striped armchair in the communal area near reception, only for an elderly moustached gentleman with a walker and green sweater vest to chastise me minutes later for sitting in his seat.

Apologising, I stood instantly, mortified at the idea of offending him.

That was until the nurse who was with him rolled her eyes and told him off for making ‘the nice man’ feel bad, then I realised this was probably his go-to method with all visitors to goad them into a conversation with him.

Arthur concluded that the only way he’d accept my apology for stealing his favourite armchair, was to play a game of chess with him.

So here we were, twenty minutes and only four turns into the game. His delays gave me the chance to think.

Finding Willow behind a wheelie bin in an alleyway was terrifying.

She was so stiff that when I picked her up to take her to the car, her joints took a while to return to their typical flexibility.

It took another ten minutes before she managed to stop shivering, and when she finally had the energy to tell me what had happened, she looked so broken.

The physical abuse seemed surface-level, like whenever he was upset, he’d snap, taking it out on her, a response he couldn’t even control.

But claiming her finances and blocking her from her own bank account?

That took time and consideration. It would’ve taken phone calls to the bank to explain some warped version of his truth.

It meant he had very real intentions of hurting Willow.

This was a personal attack, as if nearly blinding her and burning the skin of her ring finger wasn’t bad enough.

A cough snapped me out of my thoughts, and I found Arthur smirking at me like he’d won the lottery, when all he’d done was move a pawn forward.

“Nice one, Arthur.”

I faked confusion in making my next move, partially to let Arthur believe he was winning, but also to give him the human contact he looked like he was missing. I shifted another pawn, before gesturing to Arthur to take his time, offering me some more thinking time.

Every tear she shed would make my stomach sink, and every smile had my heart blooming.

Despite the promise not to overstep the friendship boundaries, I was making daily commitments to make the corner of her lips lift into the beautiful smile I knew it could, to make sure her melodic giggle returned.

I was becoming familiar with her nightly routine, as much as I tried not to, it was impossible not to focus on everything she did, whether conscious or subconscious.

The hum as she brushed her teeth, the two braids she’d pull her hair into whilst sitting up in bed, legs tucked under the duvet and her feet fidgeting as she fell asleep.

Sharing a bed was hard work on my poor heart and yearning desire.

Desperate to pull her in, to tangle her legs between mine, to kiss her head and ease the nightmares out of her troubled mind.

Instead, I’d hold her hand, limiting myself to gently stroking the back of her hand, maybe delicately brushing the hair out of her face until she woke.

The bad dreams had eased since we started sharing. I sensed the smaller space with company helped, but they still existed, and I suspected they would linger for a while yet.

“Mr Lambert?” a nurse interrupted my Willow-based thoughts, a polite smile on her face. “Jean Ronan has asked if you could visit her?”

“But… Willow— ”

“She popped to reception. I can take you to her room, if you’d like?

” I nodded and stood to follow her, when Arthur grumbled behind me.

“Don’t worry, Arthur, I’ll be back to finish the game when I’ve dropped Mr Lambert here off.

” She placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder as she spoke, which satisfied him.

I followed the nurse down a long, curved corridor. Doors were open to various rooms, offering a sneak peek into resident’s rooms.

The nurse knocked on a wooden door, before pushing it open and gesturing me in. She spoke clearly into the room. “Mr Lambert is here for you, Jean. Be nice.”

I wondered how harsh an old lady could be to require a warning. A small lady with snow white hair sat in her mobility scooter. Her stare followed me from the doorway to the chair, her expression neutral.

“Hi Jean, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jack. Willow’s… friend.” She continued to stare at me, I’m sure I saw her eye twitch, so I continued, “Willow speaks so highly of you, it’s clear you both have a very special relationship. It really is a pleasure to meet you.”

Silence .

I started to wonder if she didn’t have access to the talking tablet Willow had mentioned, until I found it attached to the arm of the scooter, lit up. Her eyes narrowed at me. Sweet old Jean Ronan was sizing me up, perhaps checking if I was another Cain.

“Jean, I want to reassure you that Willow is safe with me. I know you don’t know me or have any reason to believe what I’m telling you, but I ask that you trust me.

I would never hurt your granddaughter. In fact, between you and me,” I lowered my voice, as though there was a chance of being overheard, “I think Willow is absolutely magnificent, and I intend on making sure she realises and never forgets.”

I finally let my smile slip free and her frown dissipated immediately. She returned my smile with one that I’d recognize anywhere. “I can see where Willow got her smile from, she inherited your glow.”

She turned to her tablet and slowly typed with her right hand. When she finished, a female voice expressed her thoughts.

“You are quite the smooth talker.” Her humour caught me off guard, I let out a breathy laugh.

“Not my intention, I just— ” I looked out the window trying to find the right words.

“If there’s anyone who needs to understand, to believe that Willow is safe, it’s you.

You’re her only family and it’s paramount that you know I’d never do anything to harm her.

I’m a parent, it’s bad enough letting them out into the world, never mind knowing they’ve been hurt. ”

Here I was again, placing Willow in the equivalent position of my daughter, despite feeling very un-familial things for her. Another reason I needed to keep myself in check, it was such a cliche for the middle-aged man to have a thing for his assistant.

“I trust that you are good for her. I never liked the other one. He was dead behind the eyes. She deserves someone good when she is ready. Someone like you.” My eyes bulged out of my head, a blush creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks. I choked on spit before replying.

“Oh, no. We’re just friends, Jean.”

She smiled with narrowed eyes as she typed.

“So you say.”

It occurred to me that no matter what I said, Jean was convinced Willow and I were fated.

It didn’t help my self-imposed friend-zoning.

Slowly but surely, my restraint was waning.

A relationship was the last thing she needed after everything she’d been through and the fact she was freely opening herself to me was a trust I wasn’t willing to lose.

The only person seemingly oblivious of my want for Willow was Willow herself.