One Small Act of Kindness by Lucy Dillon

Author:Lucy Dillon [Dillon, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2015-04-22T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The house was in darkness when Gethin pulled up outside and Alice almost didn’t realise they were back until he turned off the engine and said, ‘Well, here we are.’

It had been a strained journey. Conversation hadn’t exactly flowed. As soon as she was away from the familiar atmosphere of the hotel, questions began popping up in Alice’s mind, but it seemed rude to ask them outright when Gethin was so happy to see her. Like why hadn’t he come to find her? Why had she stopped temping in Birmingham? Why had she been on a retreat for stressed-out people in the first place? Instead, they’d made polite party conversation about the schools tour of A Midsummer Night’s Dream he’d been doing and what she’d been doing at the hotel.

Now, Alice realised, staring at the dark, blank face of their house, conversation couldn’t go anywhere else but back to them.

‘Oh God! We’ve no milk! Sorry, I meant to stop at Tesco.’ Gethin had started to undo his seatbelt, but now he hit his forehead with the heel of his palm. ‘I literally walked in and out when I saw your note – there’s no food in the house.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Alice automatically. ‘I’m not really hungry.’

‘Do you want to go in and I’ll nip out?’ He looked anxious. ‘I won’t be a second. I think the garage up the road’s still open . . .’

‘It’s fine. Honestly.’ Alice touched Gethin’s hand to stop him flapping; she did it without thinking, but the connection stopped them both. She made herself leave her fingers where they were for a couple of seconds, then patted him affectionately. ‘Let’s just get inside.’

She undid her own belt, gathering her small bag of things from the footwell, but by the time she’d straightened up, he was at her door, opening it for her.

‘Honestly, you don’t have to – I’m not injured,’ she said, getting out.

‘I know, but . . . I can’t get it out of my head.’ His expression was remorseful. ‘You were in the hospital, on your own! And I didn’t know! Can you blame me for wanting to look after you better now?’

‘Really, I’m fine. Just . . .’ Alice made ‘hurry up’ gestures and he fumbled for the key and let her in.

The hall smelled stale, like a house that hadn’t been lived in for a few weeks. Alice took a few surreptitious sniffs; it didn’t smell unfamiliar. The walls were pale blue, with a staircase opposite the door leading to the bedrooms, carpeted with a striking red and gold runner. The radiator was boxed in, and on top of it was a wicker basket of post and some framed photographs.

She picked up the nearest: a selfie of her and Gethin on a shingle beach, their faces pressed close together to get into the same frame. A wild and leaden sky loomed behind them, merging with the iron-grey sea, as they laughed up into the camera lens, their windblown smiles framed by their furry parka hoods like Eskimos.

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