Three Amazing Things About You(125)

‘He’s O.’

Hallie nodded. ‘Same.’

‘Come here.’ Tasha wrapped both arms around her and held her tight. She whispered into Hallie’s ear, ‘This is amazing. You gave Rory your heart. He’d have died without you.’ A hot tear spilled out of her eye and trickled down Hallie’s cheek. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘It’s not me, though. We both have the family of the other donor to thank. I sent them a card a while back, through my transplant coordinator, but I was waiting for the year to be up to write a proper letter.’ Hallie knew it would be the most difficult letter she’d ever have to compose. ‘And they might never write back . . . there are no guarantees.’

‘But in the meantime, we’ve found you. Oh God, I still can’t believe it!’

‘I’m going to call Jonathan, my coordinator, and see if he can confirm it’s Rory.’

Five minutes later, she ended the call and said with a grin, ‘Well, he can’t.’

‘You’re still smiling, though.’

‘I’ve known Jonathan long enough to know when he’s holding back. He knows,’ said Hallie, ‘but he isn’t allowed to confirm it. He said we need to get Rory to ask his transplant coordinator.’ She shook her head with amusement. ‘Poor Jonathan, he’s always so calm and in control. But this time he was definitely shocked.’

‘So what happens now?’ said Tasha.

‘I think Rory needs to make that call, don’t you? Do it like Jonathan says, just to keep everyone happy. And after that, what time does he finish work?’ said Hallie. ‘I think I’d like to meet the man who has my heart.’





Chapter 56


‘Oh will you look at her little face? Hello, lovely girl! Are you going to give me a smile?’

It was one of those could-go-either-way moments. Flo held her breath and willed it to go the right way. Luckily it did. Her daughter, now twelve weeks old, was less fazed than most babies by geriatric faces looming in front of her in a manner that could, admittedly, give a bit of a fright to some adults. Alexandra broke into a huge beaming smile and waved her little hands at ninety-eight-year-old Esme Carpenter, currently the oldest resident of Nairn House.

‘Ah, look at that, she’s a bonny one! Flo, you’ve got yourself a little angel there. I love it when you bring her in to see us. Makes my day, it does. What a gorgeous wee girl she is.’

While she was still on maternity leave, Flo had taken to visiting once or twice a week with Alexandra in tow. It was nice to keep up with the goings-on at Nairn House, and seeing everyone’s delight at being able to interact with Alexandra was a joy. Today, she was sitting out on the terrace with several of the residents. To her left was Esme. To her right was Margot, busy taking photos with her iPad.

‘Pretty girl,’ boomed Thomas, who was sitting opposite them. ‘Far too thin, though. Needs to eat a few pies. Not like you,’ he retorted as Bridget trundled past with the tea trolley. ‘You’ve had more than your share.’

Thomas was the newest resident, a retired naval captain with a loud voice and a robustly unreconstructed opinion on everything.

‘Any more of that and I’ll be cutting off your beard while you sleep,’ said Bridget, unperturbed. ‘Anyway, who’s the pretty girl? Are you talking about Flo?’

‘No, of course not. I meant this one!’ Thomas jabbed a finger at the magazine he’d been reading.

Peering over at the page, Bridget said, ‘Oh she is pretty. Not too thin at all.’

‘Hmmph. I don’t hold with this transplant malarkey,’ Thomas snorted. ‘It’s all wrong, if you ask me, meddling with nature. Doctors thinking they’re God, playing around with people’s lives just because they can.’

Flo exchanged a glance with Margot, who shook her head and said in a clear voice, ‘Thomas, does it ever occur to you to think before you open your mouth to speak?’

‘What? Oh, don’t you start on at me again, woman. You’re as bad as my second wife.’ With a huff of annoyance, Thomas levered himself out of his chair and grabbed his walking stick.

‘I’m luckier than her,’ Margot observed. ‘At least I didn’t have to be married to you.’

Grumbling under his breath, Thomas made his way back inside. Bridget rested a hand on Flo’s shoulder. ‘Just ignore him. Give us another week or two and we’ll have the old sod whipped into shape.’

‘It’s fine.’ Flo nodded at the magazine Thomas had left lying open on the wrought-iron garden table. ‘Could you pass it over so I can take a look?’