We round the corner into Cedar Ward, and I immediately hear the distant cackling of Nan, making that elation I was depending on soar. My pace picks up, eager to make it to her, and when I enter the bay of beds where I know her to be, every lost piece of me clicks right back into place. She’s sitting in her chair, fully dressed in her Sunday best, with her huge carpetbag resting on her lap. And she’s hooting bursts of laughter at the TV. I relax under Miller’s hold and stand watching her for the longest time, until her old navy eyes pull from the screen and find me. They’re all watery from her laughter, and she reaches up and brushes the hysterical tears away from her cheeks.
Then her smile disappears and she scowls at me, making my delight run and hide and my happy heart quicken, but now in worry. Does she know something? Is it written all over my face? ‘About time!’ she squawks, aiming the remote control at the screen and zapping it off.
Her harshness restores that happiness in a second, and my fears that she may know something is off disappear. She must never know. I refuse to risk her health further. ‘I’m a half hour early,’ I say, taking Miller’s wrist and lifting it to look at his watch. ‘They said four.’
‘Well, I’ve been sitting here getting a numb arse for the past hour.’ She frowns. ‘Have you cut your hair?’
‘Just a trim.’ I reach up and pat it down.
She goes to stand, and Miller disappears from my side quickly, taking the bag from her and offering his hand. She pauses and looks up at him, her irritation being replaced with an impish grin. ‘Such a gentleman,’ she gushes, laying her wrinkled hand in Miller’s. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Miller replies, bowing as he helps her up. ‘How are you feeling, Mrs Taylor?’
‘Perfect,’ she answers surely, steadying herself on her feet. She’s not perfect at all; she’s a little wobbly on her feet, and Miller’s quick flick of his eyes to me tells me he’s noticed it, too. ‘Take me home, Miller. I’ll make you beef Wellington.’
I scoff my thoughts on that and glance to my right when the ward nurse appears with a paper bag. ‘Your grandmother’s medication.’ She smiles as she hands it to me. ‘Your grandmother knows what pills and when, but I also went over it with her son.’ The nurse blushes.
‘Her son?’ I blurt, my eyes widening.
‘Yes, the lovely man who’s here twice a day every day.’
I swing around and find Miller looking as confused as I am and Nan smirking from ear to ear. She bursts into a helpless fit of giggles, bending slightly as Miller holds her arm. ‘Oh bless you, dear. He’s not my son.’
‘Oh . . .’ the nurse says, now joining Miller and me in the confusion department. ‘I assumed . . . well, I just assumed.’
Nan gains a little composure and straightens out, rolling her eyes and threading her arm through Miller’s. ‘William is an old family friend, dear.’
I’m scoffing again but rein it in when Nan throws an inquisitive look my way. An old family friend? Seriously? My mind is sprinting, yet I do an incredible job of preventing my mouth from blurting questions left, right, and centre. I don’t want to know. I’ve just left the old family friend back at the Society, holding back my mo— ‘Are you ready?’ I ask, keen to put this little misunderstanding to rest.
‘Yes, Livy. I’ve been ready for an hour,’ she bites back, her lips pursing as she turns her sour eyes onto the nurse. ‘This is my granddaughter’s boyfriend,’ Nan announces, louder than necessary, like she’s showcasing him to the whole ward – the proverbial trophy on her arm. ‘Handsome bugger, isn’t he?’
‘Nan!’ I gasp, blushing on Miller’s behalf. ‘Stop it!’
The nurse smiles and backs away slowly. ‘Bed rest for a week, Mrs Taylor.’
‘Yes, yes.’ She dismisses the nurse and nods to Miller. ‘He has great buns.’
I choke, Miller chuckles, and the nurse burns bright red as her eyes fight to drop in the area of Miller’s buns, but I’m saved from my grandmother’s crafty behaviour when my mobile starts singing from my bag. Shaking my head in total exasperation, I rifle through and locate it, immediately freezing when I see William’s name illuminating my screen.
Reject.
I shove it back in my bag and swing a wary look to Miller’s cheery face when his phone starts shouting from his inside pocket. His smile drops as he catches my look and registers the ringing of his phone. I shake my head subtly, hoping Nan doesn’t catch the silent messages passing between Miller and I, then get mighty mad when he drops Nan’s bag and slowly reaches for his inside pocket. I silently scream at him to leave it, firing continuous looks of warning across the bed, but I’m flat-out ignored and he connects the call. ‘Would you?’ he asks, indicating for me to take over his hold of Nan.
Trying my hardest not to screw my face up in disgust, because I know Nan’s watchful eyes are passing between us, I approach slowly and replace Miller’s arm with my own. ‘Important call?’ Nan asks suspiciously. I should have known nothing gets past her.
‘You could say that.’ Miller drops a chaste kiss on my forehead in a pathetic attempt to pacify me, and Nan sighs dreamily as she watches Miller’s tight buns walk away. ‘Yes,’ Miller greets down the line as he disappears around the corner.