Burning Bright

Chapter 37

‘So what happens now?’ he said at last.

‘Are we OK?’

‘Yeah, we’re OK. Well I am. Kate, I love you. I’m not going to bail on you. I know we’ve not been together that long, but . . .’

‘But?’

He shrugged and stood, fiddling with the remote control on the table next to me, looking incredibly vulnerable. His lips twitched a half smile. ‘I’m not very good at this hearts and flowers stuff, am I?’

‘I’ve got enough flowers.’ That was true. They’d been arriving all day from friends and ex-colleagues.

‘Just hearts then?’

‘Just the one. Eoin, what is it?’

‘You. You’re amazing. You stood up to that man who was pointing a gun at you. When . . . when I thought he was going to shoot you, my heart stopped. The thought of losing you was . . . unbearable. Kate . . .’ He sat back down next to me and took my hand again. ‘I’m going nowhere. Whether you like it or not.’

‘OK. I can live with that. So, you said the money’s been raised?’

‘Aha. Big Hank’s zoo money came through. And the T-shirt sales, well we’re on the second re-order.’

‘Mr Noor will be pleased.’

‘Everyone’s pleased. Kate, please don’t scare me like that again.’

‘I’m sorry, Eoin. I . . . I just thought it was for the best.’

‘I know. But . . . God, I was so scared of losing you.’    

‘Is it safe to come in?’ He paused in the doorway the following morning and grinned at me. ‘Not going to get banished today am I?’

‘I’ve decided I quite like having you around,’ I replied. ‘Especially when you bring me mangoes. But you’ll have to cut them up. Erm, there’s a knife over there,’ I helpfully said, and then watched as he picked up the first one, inserted the knife, and then proceeded to create a mango massacre.

He looked at me helplessly, the squidgy orange pulp in a volcanic heap, juice running through his fingers and down his arms. It was a painful sight.  ‘Erm, I may need some help here.’ Of course, all he had to do smile at one of the nurses and they whisked away the fruit he hadn’t murdered and returned them beautifully presented on a plate a few minutes later while he was still trying to remove all the juice from his skin.

‘You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?’ he said to me, wiping his hands on a towel.

‘Oh yes. I learned the hard way. There is a technique to it I have never mastered.’

‘I think I have. I get an expert to do it.’ He fed me a slither. ‘See, you do need me,’ as he passed me a tissue to wipe away a dribble of juice.’

‘I got dumped by mango once,’ I said.

‘What? How?’

‘It was a young Indian man when I first started working here. He had a bit of a crush on me, apparently. I didn’t know until he sent me a box of mangoes with a note saying he couldn’t continue our relationship. But as I didn’t realise we’d actually had one, being dumped was a surprise, if not a complete disappointment. And the mangoes were very nice. But the worst dumping I got was by e-mail. That did sting a bit.’

‘That is a bit mean. I can’t say I’ve ever been dumped by e-mail. Text, yes.’

‘You’ve been dumped? You?’