Chances

by Kate Field

  The affection in his voice was obvious, and his smile was warm – dangerously warm. It was a relief to see Rich shuffling through the tail end of the crowd, and I waved at him with a degree of enthusiasm I’d probably rarely shown before.

  ‘Here’s Rich! You see, I’m not on my own. You can get off now.’

  Paddy didn’t budge. Rich shambled up to us, and as he bent down to kiss me, I struggled not to recoil at the stench of stale alcohol.

  ‘Do you want some water before we start?’ I asked. I didn’t rate his chances of making it up the hill in this state. We’d be lucky to keep up with the toddlers. ‘There are some bottles on the table over there.’

  ‘Keep it down, Eve. My head’s thumping.’

  ‘Bad night?’

  ‘Great night.’ Rich grinned. ‘The boys were on top form.’

  Judging from the smell, the grey skin, the rasping voice and the fact he was wearing sunglasses, I guessed he used ‘boys’ to mean his friends rather than his children.

  ‘Oh! Well, a blast of fresh air is exactly what you need to make you feel better. Shall we go?’

  ‘Nah, I’m not going up there. I’m not up to it today. I shouldn’t be out by rights, but I thought I ought to come along and give you some moral support.’

  ‘Thanks. That was thoughtful.’ I tried to turn my back on Paddy, who was still shamelessly hanging around, listening to this conversation. ‘Are you going to be all right on your own?’

  ‘Yeah, there’s a match on at twelve so I’ll put my feet up for a bit while that’s on.’ He was already drifting away. ‘Come round later if you fancy it.’ His cheek moved as he winked behind his sunglasses, and then he was gone.

  After a few moments spent reining in my humiliation, I spun back to Paddy.

  ‘Stop it,’ I said.

  ‘Stop what?’

  ‘Disapproving. It’s none of your business.’

  ‘You’re right, it’s not.’ I nodded and took a step away towards the kissing gate. ‘Except …’

  I stopped. ‘Except what?’

  ‘Well now, he’s a bit boorish for you, isn’t he?’

  ‘Boorish?’ The word was so apt that it momentarily silenced me. Even after a few seconds to consider, my response was weak. ‘He wasn’t at his best today.’

  ‘You’re telling me. Seriously – you’re in a relationship with him? What do you talk about? Does he live with you and Caitlyn?’

  ‘No. And that is even less of your business, don’t you think?’

  I strode off across the field, hoping to put some distance between us, but it was no good. His strides were longer than mine and he soon caught up.

  ‘Are you in love with him?’

  ‘None of your business.’ I wished I hadn’t repeated that. It was tantamount to a ‘no’, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t I have said yes? It would have been the simple answer. It would have stopped this inquisition. But it wouldn’t have been the truth. I knew what love was like, and it wasn’t what I felt for Rich; I knew what it was like, because of the man now striding along at my side. He was the only man I had ever loved, until I had decided that I was better off without love; that love was too closely entwined with loss for me to want it again. I had chosen Rich precisely because while we had fun together, there was no chance of me falling in love with him.

  ‘I didn’t realise you had a significant other,’ Paddy said.

  ‘Thanks. Is it so unlikely?’

  We had reached the kissing gate and Paddy waited, letting me go first. I turned round, holding the gate shut between us.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not at all.’ He gestured to my left hand, resting on the top of the gate. ‘But you don’t wear a ring.’

  ‘Don’t be so conventional. Marriage isn’t everything. You should know that. You disposed of yours easily enough, didn’t you?’

  He was better at this game than I was. He didn’t spit out a hasty, ill-thought-out answer as I would have done. He didn’t give an answer at all, or not a verbal one. But his face … I couldn’t miss the pain that flashed across it, or doubt that it was real. I pulled the gate towards me, and let him through.

  It was wonderful to see so many people walking up the hill and enjoying the fresh air and exercise. The walkers covered the whole spectrum from serious hikers with their Gore-Tex boots and hiking poles, to enthusiastic but unfit young families in their trainers and wellies, who were puffing at the first hint of an incline. Children and dogs ran loose, enjoying their freedom, and chatter and laughter filled the air. I wished Caitlyn could have joined in, and that she could have been at my side instead of Paddy. But I had to admit, as we tramped up the hill, overtaking some of the worst dawdlers, his presence wasn’t as irritating as I would have expected. He gathered a lot of attention – fingers pointed in his direction, greetings shouted his way as if everyone knew him, snatched photographs that I ducked to avoid when I could – but he didn’t milk it as I thought he might. He accepted it with charm and good grace, smiling and waving back, but he never left my side. His attention was all mine – if I wanted it. It was only seventeen years too late.

  As we neared the top of the hill, the grass was filled with groups who had stopped on the way up or down to enjoy a picnic with a view. I carried on to the peak and then paused to admire the panorama. There was much to admire. This was one of the highest summits in the area, and was one of my favourite places to stop and stare; one of the few places where I found contentment in being idle. Inglebridge town centre looked like a model village from up here, with the river snaking through like a piece of sparkling blue thread; over to the east were the Pennines and the Yorkshire peaks, and to the north-west the beautiful mountains of the Lake District rose up to meet the sky.

  ‘This is quite something,’ Paddy said. He turned round slowly, taking in the view in each direction. It was breezier here on the summit, and dark curls blew around his face. His cheeks were pink from the exertion and the sun, and his smile sparkled. He looked like a poster boy for the outdoor life, glowing with health and vitality. He could hardly have presented a starker contrast to Rich’s appearance earlier.

  ‘I can see why you chose to live here,’ he continued. My smile dimmed; there had been so much more to the decision than the scenery. ‘Have you been happy here? Was Caitlyn happy?’

  ‘Yes.’ There could be so much more to that answer too, but I chose not to go there. Happiness was like one of the shimmering bubbles that Caitlyn used to love to blow from soap; something to enjoy while it lasted, but too fragile to withstand a curious finger exploring it. Because if I thought too deeply, poked about in the past, how could I ever be sure that we had found the best possible happiness? Who knew if we might have been happier living somewhere else? What if we might have been happier living with Mum – or even with Paddy?

  Looking away from the view and focusing on the hill again, on the here and now, I spotted Tina and her husband Graham, sitting with their backs against a rock, starting their picnic.

  ‘I’m going to join Tina for lunch,’ I said. I meant it as a goodbye, not an invitation, but Paddy trailed along behind me and within minutes was sitting next to Tina, laughing uproariously.

  ‘Let’s pool our resources,’ Tina said. She started pulling Tupperware boxes and foil packages out of a large cool bag. ‘I’ve got sandwiches, sausage rolls, pasta salad, Scotch eggs …’

  I added my contribution: chicken wraps, raw vegetables and a stash of fruit. We all looked at Paddy.

  ‘Sorry!’ He held up his hands and laughed. ‘I have nothing to offer but wit, charm and conversation. Take pity on a starving man who matched Eve’s pace up the hill, won’t you?’

  ‘That pace was hardly enough to break a sweat,’ I said. ‘But if you’re so hungry, you can have Rich’s share of the vegetables.’ I pushed a tub of carrot and cucumber sticks towards him. He laughed.

  ‘Have a Scotch egg,’ Tina offered. ‘I’ve catered for an army. I’ll even give you one of my beers if you don’t mind lager.�
�

  ‘You’re a marvellous woman, Tina.’

  He glugged from his bottle of beer and Tina watched him with wide-eyed fascination that seemed wholly inappropriate in front of her husband. I nudged her knee.

  ‘So what happened to Rich?’ she asked, tearing her gaze from Paddy, but making me wish I hadn’t distracted her. ‘You said he was coming. Did he cry off?’

  ‘He did come,’ I said, avoiding Paddy’s gaze. ‘Only he decided he wasn’t up for a walk after all.’

  ‘Hungover, was he?’ Tina laughed. ‘You really are the odd couple. He must drink at least your share of booze. I’m surprised you haven’t tried to convert him to your healthy ways.’

  ‘I don’t impose my lifestyle choices on others,’ I replied primly. Unfortunately, my statement was ruined by a grinning Paddy, rattling the tub of vegetable strips in front of my face. ‘He has sponsored me for the walk,’ I added.

  ‘I saw. I filled in the form after him. Two quid! Mean git. Not even the cost of a pint. I hope he’s saving up to get you something special for your birthday.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Probably not. I didn’t think Rich knew when my birthday was, let alone that it was a significant one this year.

  ‘It’s the big four-zero in August, isn’t it?’ Paddy said. ‘What do you have planned?’

  ‘Nothing much. I hope Mum and Caitlyn will come over. We could take Gran out for a meal.’ I shrugged. It probably sounded pathetic in comparison to whatever adventure he had undertaken for his fortieth last December. But I couldn’t imagine a better present than having my entire family under the same roof.

  ‘I had a quiet one with Mam and Dad too,’ he said, and when he smiled at me, for a strange moment it felt as if we had been stripped back to the people we had been in the past; back to those early, innocent days when our studies and our families and our relationship were all that mattered.

  ‘Have a chicken wrap,’ I said, and thrusting some food at him I turned to talk to Tina.

  Lunch passed quickly and far more pleasantly than I would have predicted. Paddy had always been a social chameleon, able to fit in with any group – something I had once admired rather than taking it as a warning of his duplicitous character. He more than delivered on his promise to provide wit, charm and conversation, and even I couldn’t resist laughing as he skilfully parodied the celebrity world he had found himself part of.

  After lunch, we wandered back down the hill in pairs. I selfishly grabbed Tina’s arm, so we could walk together, and though I felt a pang of guilt at leaving Graham to Paddy, from the snatches of conversation blown our way it sounded like they were getting on well. The kissing gate that would return us to our starting point was in sight when a small girl in front of us, probably about the same age as Caitlyn had been when she came to live with me, stumbled and let go of the balloon that she must have carried safely up and down the hill. Her anguished cry echoed across the hillside, so raw that it stopped us all in our tracks.

  All except one. It happened so fast that it was hard to process what actually occurred. There was a blur of movement running past me, a figure leaping in the air to catch the balloon before it blew away, a cry of pain and then silence as Paddy fell to the ground, cracking his head on a rock.

  Chapter 12

  I reached him first.

  ‘Paddy?’ I shook his shoulder, probably more roughly than I should have done. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. ‘Paddy?’ I shook him again, and at last he lifted his head and regarded me, a dazed look in his eyes. Already a lump had formed on his forehead, and a thin trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. He tried to sit up, but clutched the back of his leg with a groan of pain.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I asked, as he lay back down, moaning. ‘Have you hurt your leg?’

  ‘Jeez, Eve, full marks for observation. When did you get your medical degree?’

  I forgave him the sarcasm, seeing the agony etched across his face. Sarcasm was good; sarcasm meant he was alive, and had all his wits about him. For a second, when I had seen him lying motionless on the ground … I shut down that line of thought and called out to Tina.

  ‘Can you ring Dr Gould?’ I handed her my phone. ‘He should be down on the field somewhere. Ask him to come quickly.’

  Turning back to Paddy, I began to gently feel along his left leg. He groaned when my fingers reached his calf, but didn’t shout out again.

  ‘There’s no obvious sign of a break,’ I said. ‘Is it your calf that hurts?’

  ‘The calf and behind the knee. There was a pop when I jumped …’ He struggled up on to his elbows. ‘Where’s the little girl? I’ve got her balloon.’

  Despite the pain, he was still clutching the string of the balloon. I looked around and spotted the child standing nearby, clinging on to her mum’s hand. I took the balloon from Paddy and handed it over.

  ‘Idiot,’ I said, kneeling at Paddy’s side again. ‘What did you do that for? There are plenty more balloons at the newspaper stand.’

  ‘But she wanted that one.’ Paddy closed his eyes. ‘She reminded me of Caitlyn.’

  The confession surprised me. It had been so long; I hadn’t expected him to still remember her with the affection that I heard in his voice. There was no time to dwell on that, because Dr Gould came hurrying up.

  ‘What have we here then?’ he asked. ‘Nothing too serious, I hope?’

  He smiled, and I moved aside. Dr Gould examined Paddy’s head and leg and took a history, demonstrating why he was such a favourite at The Chestnuts with his calm, unflappable approach despite the curious crowd that was peering curiously over his shoulder. I caught sight of a phone pointed in Paddy’s direction and shooed people away before any more photographs could be taken. Paddy might not shy away from publicity, but even he deserved better than having pictures of his agonised, blood-streaked face splashed across the internet.

  ‘There’s nothing broken,’ Dr Gould said, leaning back as he finished his examination. ‘I think it’s just a calf strain – tennis leg, they call it, as it’s quite common in tennis players when they leap around. It’s more common in men in our age bracket.’ I had to smother a laugh at that: grey-haired Dr Gould must have been at least fifteen years older than Paddy. ‘We need to get some ice on it as soon as possible.’

  ‘Tina will have some.’ I beckoned her over. ‘Do you have an ice pack in your cool bag?’

  ‘Of course I do. I can’t stand warm Scotch eggs.’

  Borrowing Tina’s ice pack and a tea towel that she was also mysteriously carrying in her cool bag, Dr Gould applied ice to Paddy’s leg.

  ‘You’ll probably need to do this every hour, at least for the first day or two,’ he said, rummaging in his bag and bringing out a prescription pad. ‘I’ll give you some anti-inflammatories and painkillers. You should wear a compression bandage during the day. The chemist in town is open until five today and they should have everything you need. The important thing is to rest your leg and keep it elevated as much as possible. The first forty-eight hours will be the worst, but you’ll probably be limited in what you can do for the next week or two.’ Dr Gould closed his bag and stood up. ‘The cut on your head doesn’t need stitches, but it was a nasty bump. Someone needs to stay with you for a few days to watch out for any signs of concussion – behavioural changes, memory problems, clumsiness. Go to A&E if you have any concerns.’

  Dr Gould waved and wandered off. I could already see one huge problem that nothing in his medical bag could fix.

  ‘How are you going to get home?’ I asked. ‘Did you drive here?’ Paddy nodded. ‘Where do you live? Still in London?’

  ‘No. Near Ripon.’

  ‘Really?’ That surprised me. He had been brought up in London, and I had assumed he would be enjoying the celebrity life in the capital, not hiding away in North Yorkshire. But that was good news: it was only a couple of hours away, and presumably someone could fetch him. Unless someone was already here? I hadn’t given any thought to whether he
was on his own or not. Perhaps Posy was waiting for him at the Fairlie, beautifying herself in the spa in readiness for his return. She’d be disappointed to see him arrive back in this state. She’d probably had more exciting plans for the weekend than applying ice packs to Paddy’s leg.

  ‘So can Posy come and pick you up?’ I asked. ‘Or did she travel with you today?’

  ‘Posy?’ Even under the grimace of pain, I could make out Paddy’s puzzled frown. I hoped it wasn’t a sign of forgetfulness already.

  ‘Wasn’t that her name? The girl at the hotel? Or have you moved on to someone else now?’

  ‘Posy is my research assistant,’ Paddy replied with pointed emphasis. ‘Not my girlfriend, if that’s what you’re suggesting. Posy has had more luck recently than I have in finding one of those.’ He managed a half-hearted smile. ‘I live on my own, so there’s no one to collect me. Anyway, I’m booked in to The White Hart.’

  ‘Great!’ I smiled in relief. ‘I’m sure we can figure out a way to get you there. The St John Ambulance probably have a stretcher …’

  Tina was staring at me. I pretended not to notice, but I should have known better than to think that would work on a woman who could terrify a room full of teenagers into obedience.

  ‘You can’t leave him at The White Hart,’ Tina said. ‘You heard the Doc. He needs looking after.’

  ‘I’m sure Lexy could be persuaded to offer room service …’

  ‘Meals, maybe, but regular application of ice packs and help to the loo is going beyond the usual room service menu. And how can she watch out for concussion? Only someone who knows him would spot any change in his behaviour.’

  She paused. She didn’t need to say any more. This was my responsibility, wasn’t it? I had asked Paddy to get involved with the walk, and I had to deal with the consequences. But it was more than a sense of obligation. I couldn’t stand aside, watch someone suffering and do nothing, whoever it was. Even if it was Paddy. I watched him grimace with pain as he tried to get up. Especially if it was Paddy.

  ‘Okay,’ I said to him, though I couldn’t believe I was saying the words. ‘You’ll have to come and stay with me.’