in that kinky shop in town,’ he says. ‘I can get one if you like.’
‘Er, hello?’ Elle grumbles. ‘Woman with broken bones here. Can you save this conversation for later?’
‘It might not be broken,’ I say, trying to think positive.
‘God, I hope not,’ she says. ‘I can’t be on crutches at work.’ Though even on crutches Elle would still be the most efficient woman in the room.
There’s something about the sight of someone being carried into A&E that makes people part to allow us through, and we’re in a cubicle far faster than we otherwise might have been.
‘Good job you were at home,’ I say to Freddie, perching on the edge of the bed. The doctor doesn’t think Elle’s broken any bones, but she’s been wheeled off for an X-ray to double-check. ‘I don’t think we’d have been seen so quickly if she’d hobbled in.’
‘The Freddie Hunter charm works every time.’ He grins, and I roll my eyes.
‘Want me to carry you upstairs later?’ he asks.
‘Only if you buy that uniform,’ I say.
He glances at the coat peg on the back of the door. ‘I could steal a doctor’s coat. Will that do?’
I start to laugh under my breath. ‘You know what? I think it might,’ I say, just as the doctor wheels Elle back in.
‘Nothing broken,’ he says, breezy. ‘Badly bruised, best stay off it for a couple of days.’
Elle struggles to get to grips with the crutches the nurse finds for her, so Freddie swings her up into his arms again and carries her back through A&E. As the exit doors slide open, I start to hum, ‘Love Lift Us Up Where We Belong’, and Elle kicks me in the arm with her good foot.
‘You were great with Elle today,’ I say once we’re home again.
‘I was, wasn’t I?’ he says, messing, and then he shakes his head. ‘Thank God it was just her ankle. The way she came down those stairs it could have been a lot worse.’
I shudder, because he’s right. My heart was in my mouth as we ran to see what had happened; I’m all too aware of how quickly a normal day can become a nightmare.
‘I’ve never broken any bones,’ he says. ‘Can you believe that?’
Oh, my love, I think.
‘Me neither,’ I say. ‘Oh, hang on, I’m lying. I have – I broke my finger at Elle’s birthday party when we were little. Mum invited Nicky from over the road even though he was a horror, and he slammed my hand in the front door.’
Freddie winces. ‘On purpose?’
I shrug. ‘Probably.’ I hold my right hand up and touch my index finger. ‘Right there.’
Freddie comes in close and kisses the spot. ‘What was his surname? I’ll find him and exact a horrible revenge for you.’
I go with it. ‘What will you do?’
‘I think it’s only fair that it involves his fingers,’ Freddie says. ‘Shall I chop them off one by one? Or whack them flat with a hammer, Thor-style?’
Freddie’s big physical presence is part of his identity – he totally buys into the idea of himself as my protector, whether I need him to be or not. He’s pretty old school in that sense. He likes to wield a screwdriver when things break down, and he’s territorial over the lawnmower even though we only have a small back garden. I don’t mind really; I know it stems back to losing his dad when he was a child. He had no choice but to step into his too-big shoes because his mum was a woman used to being taken care of. Freddie has happily gathered the Bird family under his umbrella of care. I don’t think Mum has changed a light bulb in the last decade.
‘You’re my superhero,’ I laugh.
‘I think we’ve already established that today.’ He flops down in his chair. ‘Have I done enough to earn myself a coffee?’
‘And biscuits,’ I say.
‘And sex?’ he says, always a trier.
I look at him. ‘Only if you stole that doctor’s coat.’
Monday 4 June
I’m sitting in the car park at work, my old bright-pink lunchbox on the passenger seat beside me. It was on my doorstep this morning with a ‘good luck’ note stuck to the lid. I can just about make out the metallic paper of the mint biscuit Mum probably had to go to three supermarkets to hunt down, and a carton of Ribena pokes out from beneath a mystery foiled sandwich. She hasn’t packed my lunch in more than ten years, but she’s seamlessly