Hello Stranger

by West, Jade

  I’d never been nervous of buttering damn toast before. I just hoped it wasn’t obvious.

  He’d finished before I had. He put his cutlery down onto his plate and stared over at me without words while I finished mopping up the last bit of egg with my toast.

  I knew it was coming before he spoke. I could see it in his eyes.

  “Chloe…” he started, but I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to hear it.

  My voice did me proud in that second, it really did.

  “Please, don’t do it,” I told him. “I know it was a mistake and shouldn’t have happened and all that, but please don’t say let’s just forget about it and I’ll see you on Monday and nice to know you.” I took a breath. “Because it’s more than that to me. Since the bookmark thing, and then seeing you worked at the hospital, and then coming to the same ward… I mean, it’s too weird to ignore, right? And I get it, that you’re my boss and it’s not professional, but I really liked it. And I really like you.” I took another breath. “And I even like your mum now, too. So please don’t send me away and say goodbye.”

  I stopped myself, and he was staring at me, so intently it took my breath.

  “What makes you think I was going to do that?” he said.

  24

  Logan

  The girl was a delight, sitting across the table from me with that buzz of nervous energy about her all over again. I could feel it, stirring my calmness with a thrum right through me, that mirror of hers, just distant. Faded deep. But I always felt it. I felt it every time she was anywhere near.

  “What makes you think I was going to say that?” I asked her, and her mouth dropped open.

  “I just, um… I figured it would be…” She lost her voice.

  “Sensible,” I said. “Professional. Yes, it would be both of those things. But it would have been both of those things last night too.”

  Her eyes were pools of hope, and it was beautiful to see. “Last night was amazing.”

  Her honesty was divine. The simple truth in her words was addictive. It would always be addictive.

  “Yes,” I said. “It was amazing.”

  She took a sip of coffee and she couldn’t stop the grin.

  I still didn’t know what the hell I was doing entertaining the idea of keeping the sweet little sparrow around me after a night that should never have been, but I couldn’t stop myself. Even now, in the cold morning after the night before, I couldn’t stop myself. I was lost to reason.

  Seeing her in my shirt was surreal but exciting. Seeing her hair so messily casual was enough to drive me wild.

  Her freckles were stunning in the morning light. Her lips were bare of lipstick and begging to be kissed. She was begging to be kissed. Every single part of her.

  I was contemplating it. Truly, I was contemplating closing that distance around the table and grabbing hold of her all over again, but then she spoke.

  “You said your mum is ill,” she said, clearly as a subject change.

  “Dying,” I replied. “I said my mum is dying.”

  “COPD,” she said, and I nodded.

  “COPD, yes. That’s the final culprit. She’s had a rough ride.” I took my last swig of coffee. “They told her she had two months left to live twelve years ago. She’s surprised a lot of people a lot of times.”

  “Maybe she’ll surprise people again,” she said.

  But no.

  I knew she wouldn’t surprise people again. Not this time.

  “She has a little while left,” I said. “But she’s reaching the end.”

  She nodded at this but looked at her plate.

  “It’s ok,” I told her. “You can talk about it. Death is death. People gloss over it and avoid the topic as much as possible, but it doesn’t change a thing. My mother upstairs is dying. She knows it, I know it. It’s just a matter of time now.”

  I gathered our plates and took them to the dishwasher.

  I’d burst the post-fuck bubble of conversation, that was a certainty. I made sure I was smiling as I turned back to face her.

  “You saw the bookshelves last night.”

  Her face lit up at that. “Yeah, I saw them. Didn’t get enough time to go through them one by one,” she laughed. “But I saw them. Very impressive. I ran out of space at my place. Liam used to groan at me every time I got new ones. Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to have a billion more. I can hope.”

  Adorable. The look on her face was absolutely fucking adorable.

  “Help yourself and go look at mine,” I said. “I’ve got to get Mum up and dressed. The carers don’t come on a weekend.”

  “Thanks for breakfast,” she said as she got to her feet.

  “My pleasure,” I told her, and she walked on through to the living room.

  My shirt looked better on her than on me. Her ass was nicely curved, heading sharply into a tiny waist. She was light on her feet, the white rabbit always ready to make a dash for it wherever she turned. She looked back over her shoulder at me three times before she was through the hallway, her big blue eyes searching mine, and it was intoxicating all over again, that much enthusiasm my way from such a pretty, buoyant creature as Chloe Sutton.

  If only I was able to deliver what she deserved right back at her.

  “Enjoy the selection,” I said as she stepped into the living room. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “I’ll start back up with Bernard Cornwell,” she said with that cute little giggle of hers, and dropped to her knees.

  I prepared myself for round two of questioning from my mother. Predictably, she was ready to roll the very moment I was over the threshold.

  “Please tell me she’s still downstairs?” she asked, and I nodded affirmation.

  “Yes. She’s still downstairs.”

  “Good,” she said. “Don’t you dare give up on that sweet little thing, Logan. I’ll be turning in my grave if you give up on that little darling.”

  I stared at her straight on. “I barely know her. She’s a girl I met on the train that I now work with. She’s barely more than half my age, and the only thing I know we have in common is that we like reading. That’s it. The sum total of how compatible we are.”

  She was shaking her head at me. “That’s bullshit, Logan. I’ve never heard such crap in my life.” She gripped my hand in a vice with hers, and slapped it to her chest. “This is where it counts. Not how compatible you are. Not where you met her. None of that crap. What matters is here. In the heart.”

  She was off again, all about the emotional love overrides everything shit and how maybe there is such a thing as fate, and normally I’d scoff and write it off. Normally I’d tell her to stop her fluff with me and save it for the carers, but not today.

  Today I couldn’t find the words.

  She noticed it. I knew she noticed it. I could feel it in her stare.

  “I saw it for myself,” she told me. “I saw the way you looked at her, and I sure as hell saw the way she looked at you. Compatibility can kiss my sweet ass. You’re besotted with her.”

  Her words slammed me. I felt it deep. And with the slam was that whisper of something inside, something I’d given up on a long time ago.

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” she said, and let go of my hand. “Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll shut my mouth.”

  I couldn’t tell her she was wrong.

  I knew what was coming next before she said it.

  “I haven’t seen you look anything like that since Evelyn. Not even close.”

  I shifted on my feet, and my jaw tensed.

  “Don’t make the comparison,” I said, and she held her hands up.

  “Fine. I won’t. But you know it, and I know it. Don’t you dare let me croak it without giving yourself a shot at bloody happiness, Logan. Not now she’s in the picture.”

  I poured her another juice. “Want another slice of toast?”

  She shot me a smirk. “I want another slice of meeting Chloe, please. That’s top of my list for today.”
<
br />   I pictured Chloe downstairs, nosing through my book collection. Then I pictured Chloe upstairs, spending time with my mother and all her buzzy eccentric ways.

  “I’ll see how long she’s around for. Maybe she’ll venture up for another hello.”

  “Good,” she said, and settled herself down. “I’m sure we’re going to get on like a house on fire.”

  I looked over at her list on the wall.

  “Don’t even think about trying to coerce her into the daughter-in-law crap, Mum. She’s a girl from work I happen to like a lot. She’s not some kind of fated soulmate.”

  “Cross my heart,” she said, and laughed. “The rest of the saying can get fucked.”

  “More toast, then?” I asked, and I loved the way her eyes sparkled as she finished her juice and handed me the glass back.

  “Maybe Chloe can bring it up for me,” she said.

  I rolled my eyes at her before I left the room, but I was smiling.

  I was smiling in a way that had been lost to me for a long, long time.

  25

  Chloe

  Logan’s bookshelf was incredible. So much fiction, so much non-fiction, so much reference. He had a whole chunk of medical books, hardly a surprise. He had books about local walks and landmarks. He had books on time management, and achieving your best, and loads of other stuff that had my brain pricking, curious.

  And the fiction. Oh wow, the fiction. So much classic, so much thriller, and so much fantasy and supernatural – just like Mythago Wood. Only not like Mythago Wood, since Mythago Wood is its own thing entirely, but yeah. He had a lot. And a lot that I wasn’t expecting.

  I was caught up, my finger running along the spines when he joined me back in the living room. I had a load of questions about a load of books, but those dried up the second I saw him there, his hands in his pockets, looking casual while not looking casual at all.

  “Great bookshelves,” I said, as though that cut it in the slightest.

  “Glad you appreciate them,” he replied. “Not many people do.” He laughed a little. “In fairness, not many people ever see them, of course.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t think they would appreciate them all that much if they did. People twist their faces when they realise what a bookworm I am. Unless they’re from the library club. Those guys are cool.”

  “Can’t say I’ve been,” he said.

  I smiled, and he smiled, and for once it was easy. Relaxed. And then we laughed, both of us. This little laugh that was easy and relaxed, and right then, in Dr Hall’s living room, messily dressed in his shirt, I knew it was going to be ok. We were going to be ok.

  “My mother is keen to see you again,” he said, and that made me tingle a proud little tingle in my stomach.

  “I’m pretty keen to see her again too.”

  “Guess that’s the day sorted.” He laughed that easy laugh again. “She doesn’t usually stop when she starts. You’ll know her entire life history by the time she’s finished with you, and she’ll know yours.”

  And yours, I hope, I thought, I hope I’ll know yours.

  There was so much unspoken and unknown about the man in front of me. I was still paddling in the dark pool of him, so deep I was still just a tiny splash on the surface, knowing in my heart that the water went down one hell of a depth.

  His eyes were fixed on mine, brooding like usual. “Please bear in mind that this is unusual for her. I’m sure you’ll see some enthusiasm.”

  “Unusual to have visitors, you mean?”

  “Unusual for me to have visitors,” he said.

  I nodded, and I could feel my cheeks pinking, because I liked that. I liked that this was different.

  I hadn’t even checked my phone, but I didn’t want to. My parents would think I was with Liam and they were the only ones who would really think about it, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble here by bringing in the world outside. It could stay there. I didn’t want anything but this space, and to stay here as long as possible.

  “I’m glad I’m a visitor,” I said, and he nodded.

  “I’m pretty damn glad you’re a visitor too,” he replied. “It’s not quite the weekend I was planning, but it’s a pleasant surprise.”

  Weekend.

  I noticed he said weekend.

  Fuck yes, universe!

  He tipped his head behind him. “Head up to see her whenever you want. I have some emails that need answering as a distraction.”

  “I’d better shower first,” I said, and he laughed.

  “Use my toothbrush and all that jazz.” His eyes were sparkling for a moment, and they reminded me of his mother’s upstairs. I hadn’t noticed that before – the similarity.

  “I’ll use your toothbrush and all that jazz,” I said, and it was nicely awkward standing there, fingers twisting in front of me even though I was doing my best not to look nervous.

  I made a move for it on quick feet, but he stopped me as I passed him in the doorway, his hand nicely strong on my wrist.

  “I mean it, Chloe,” he said. “I’m glad you’re a visitor.”

  “I mean it too,” I replied, and his stare took me back to the night before. That power and strength and fire. “I’m really glad I’m here.”

  I wouldn’t have pulled away from him if he hadn’t squeezed my wrist and then dropped it. I would never have wanted to pull away from him in my life, and I knew it. Crazy, but true. This was more than any sense in my head, or any logic, or anything more than that burn of something more. Something beyond words, that you feel so deep it goes right through you. Like that tingly lurch you get in romance novels when they finally touch, or when one of them first tells the other that they love them. Only this was real life. This was real now.

  “Make sure Mum doesn’t grab you before you make it to the bathroom, or you’ll never get there,” he said with a smirk. “It’s past her bedroom on the opposite side.”

  I wanted to kiss him, but I was too jumpy. I wanted to wait to see if he kissed me, but I was too jumpy for that, too. Instead I was off on skittish legs, as usual, bounding up the stairs like I was on a mission, and he was watching me every step, calm as rock.

  I showered in his bathroom. I used his toilet, and his lovely quilted toilet roll, and one of his nice towels from the rack. I looked in his mirror, and looked for his toothbrush, but it wasn’t on the counter top, not like in my place. No. It was in the cabinet to the side of the mirror, nicely positioned along with his toothpaste. And other stuff. Creams and soaps and other goodies I shouldn’t be nosey with, but couldn’t stop. It was only when I took the toothpaste out that something caught my attention. Something right at the back.

  A huge bottle of insulin. The kind that we restocked up on in the pharma room at work.

  I didn’t know he was a diabetic. I hadn’t seen any signs of it. Still, I hadn’t seen many signs of many things about that man.

  I used his toothbrush and then his soap to clear my face of any makeup dregs, and then I tackled the task of getting dressed back up in my evening dress.

  His mum did a whistle as I stepped inside her room, staring me up and down with a huge grin.

  “No wonder you got yourself into Logan’s shirt,” she laughed. “You look amazing in that dress, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Feels a bit weird to be wearing it at 10 a.m.”

  She gestured to her wardrobe. “I’ve got plenty of comfies in there. You’ll likely fit into a load of them.”

  I wasn’t so sure of that, but I appreciated her optimism.

  “Honestly,” she said and pointed over again. “Go take a look. Can’t have you in that thing all weekend now, can we?”

  All weekend.

  I appreciated her optimism even more.

  I took a look while she took a fresh look at me. She had a load of joggers I’d just about get into and some t-shirts too.

  “Thanks,” I said again and took an outfit’s worth.

  She patted the seat next to her bed. “N
ow come and tell me how you ended up in here on a Saturday morning, darling. I’m all ears.”

  So, I did.

  I told her about dropping my bookmark on the train and how he’d been amazing and given it back to me. I told her about reading books in the mornings and commenting on the titles, and how one day I’d seen him go into the hospital and not known who he was, but ended up in the same ward as him, and how good he was as Dr Hall.

  She listened to every word, nodding and smiling, and quizzing me for more.

  It felt so weird to talk about it like that – about just how crazy a story it was, but she didn’t make it feel like that. The smile on her face told me she thought it was so much more than weird.

  “Synchronicity,” she said when I got to the Gina’s leaving party bit. She patted my hand. “You a believer in synchronicity, sweetheart?”

  “I believe in loads of stuff,” I told her. “People think I’m a bit dappy for it most of the time.”

  “Never stop believing in it,” she said. “No matter what people think, never stop believing in it. I never have. It’s where your heart sings loudest, when that belief in the world comes true.”

  She was just like me.

  The eternal optimist.

  I could see it a mile off, that she was a glass always full, even if it’s empty kind of person like me.

  I loved that. I rarely found it in other people, especially people in her position.

  Her oxygen was rumbling. Her chest was strained and tired. Her limbs were so frail they looked like they might snap, but her energy, the energy from within. You could never snap that. Not with all the strength in the world.

  She cleared her throat before she spoke again. “So, what do you know about my boy?”

  I smiled before I answered.

  “Nothing very much,” I said. “Apart from that he’s a fantastic doctor and a big reader. Both of those things are brill.”

  I left the great in bed stuff unsaid, but she laughed and hinted at it for me. “Pretty damn good at other stuff too, I imagine. Or you’d have been off like a shot this morning.”