Emily, are you busy? my mum called, poking her head around my bedroom door.
One minute, Mum, my daughter replied, not taking her eyes off her laptop. Just sending an email, then Ill come help.
Were short on mayo for the salad, and I completely forgot to get dill. Could you nip to the shop before it closes?
Alright.
Sorry for asking. Youve already done your hair and everything. Ive just lost my head with all this holiday fuss, my mum sighed.
All done. Emily closed her laptop and turned towards my wife. What did you say?
She slipped into her boots and winter coat, but didnt bother with a hat, not wanting to ruin her hair. The shop was just next door, so she wouldnt freeze. Outside, a light frost hung in the air, with a gentle dusting of snow making everything look like a Christmas card.
There werent many people in the shop, just those dashing in having forgotten something amid the festive chaos. All that was left of the herbs was a mixed bundle of limp parsley, dill, and spring onions, close to going off. Emily thought about calling her mum to see if that would do, but realised shed left her phone at home. After a moment, she decided to just buy the sorry bunch, grabbed a pack of mayonnaise from the slimming shelves, paid at the till, and stepped outside.
She hadnt taken more than a few steps when a car suddenly shot round the corner, headlights glaring. Emily recoiled, her bootheel skidding on a patch of ice hidden beneath snow. Her ankle twisted and she crashed onto the pavement, her carrier bag flying away.
She tried to stand but agony exploded in her ankle, tears welling in her eyes. The street was deserted, and her phone wasnt with her. What now? She didnt hear when the car door shut quietly behind her.
Are you hurt? A mans voice above her. A young guy, bending down. Can you get up? Here, let me help, he offered his hand.
I think Ive broken my anklethanks to you lot, turning the roads to ice with your cars! Emily snapped, her voice tight and tearful, ignoring his hand.
Thats your own fault. Why wear heels late at night?
Oh, sod off, she shot back, hiccuping a little.
So youre just going to sit out here till morning? Fine then. I promise Im not a serial killer. Where do you live?
There. She gestured to the next building.
The bloke disappeared, but soon Emily heard the engine again. The car reversed and stopped by her side.
Alright, Im going to lift you up. Dont try to put any weight on your bad ankle. One, two, three. Before she could protest, he hoisted her with a swift but careful movement, bracing her against himself.
Okay? he asked, steadying her as he opened the passenger door. Hold on to me. In you go.
My bag! Emily called as she tumbled onto the seat.
He glanced around, fetched her bag, and popped it on the back seat.
At her building he helped her out and immediately swept her up again, shutting the car door with his foot.
Outside her block, he paused. Keys are in the bag? Is anyone home?
Mum.
Alright. Enter the code and buzz her to let us in.
There was no lift in their building, so he had to carry Emily up three flights of stairs. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hearing his laboured breathing. In the dim glow of the stairwell she saw sweat trickling down his forehead. Serves you right shouldnt race down side streets by the shops, she thought, somewhat vindictively.
Put me down here, I can manage the rest, Emily said, as they reached her own flat.
He said nothing, just breathing a bit heavily. The door flung open and my wife appeared.
Emily? Whats happened?
He marched straight in, leaving my wife no choice but to step aside. He gently set Emily down, drawing a deep breath.
Could you fetch a chair? he asked my startled wife, who was clutching the coat rack.
My wife fetched a chair from the kitchen and with relief, Emily sat down, leg up. The man knelt at her feet.
What on earth is going on? my wife protested.
He ignored her completely. Gently supporting Emilys leg, he undid the zip on her boot with surprising sharpness. Emily yelped.
Ow! What are you playing at?!
Youre hurting her! my wife backed her up, wide-eyed, watching as Emilys ankle swelled and turned an alarming purple, even through her tights.
Ill call an ambulance, my wife said, panic rising.
Its just a dislocation. Im a doctor. Could you get some ice, quickly please? he directed.
Without a word, my wife hurried off and soon returned with a bag of frozen chicken wrapped in clingfilm.
Hold that against the ankle, he said, rising to open the front door.
Are you leaving? asked Emily, a bit anxious.
Ill just pop to the carneed to get an elastic bandage, and Ill bring your bag up, he replied, stepping out.
You left your bag in his car? my wife hissed as soon as hed gone. Who is he? She pressed the frozen chicken to Emilys ankle.
Emily gasped at the chill and pain. He came round the corner too fast, I slipped and fell. He carried me home. Thats all I know.
What if hes a thief? Hes got your card, your keys Shall I call the police before he disappears? my wife whispered.
Mum! He could have left me on the pavement if he meant harm. Hes brought me all the way home.
Well, Im not sure, my wife faltered.
The intercom buzzed. Thats him. Mum, please buzz him in, Emily said.
He entered, scrutinised both Emily and my wife, and set her bag carefully on the side table.
Better check if everythings there, he said, dumping his jacket on the floor and kneeling on it.
This will hurt. I need to set your foot. Grip the chair tightly, itll help.
He cupped her foot gently, angling it. Emily stifled a moan, biting her lip.
Youve left something on the hob, he remarked to my wife with a quick glance.
She scuttled into the kitchen.
Suddenly, Emilys ankle exploded in pain, sending a wave shooting up her spine.
Alright, its done. Youll feel better soon, he whispered.
My wife returned, freezing at the sight of Emily in tears.
Nothings burning, but she began shakily.
Ive set the dislocation. Itll ache for a few days. Try not to put weight on it. He eased Emilys foot to the floor, straightened up, and shoved on his coat.
Thank you. Sorry for what I thought of you, my wife blurted out. Would you like to stay for dinner? The New Years nearly here and youll never make it home in time. Everythings ready
He paused only a moment. Alright, if Im not imposing.
Of course not! You can help open the bubbly, my wife beamed.
Mum! Emily shot her a look.
What? Ill get the roast, and youyoung manplease help Emily to the living room.
Leaning on his arm, Emily hopped to the sofa. She gingerly tested her toes on the floorpainful, but bearable. Still, she was glad of his arm round her waist.
Thanks, she said, settling on the cushion and stretching out her leg.
No need. It was my fault you were hurt, he replied.
Not really. I darted aside myself. By the way, whats your name?
James. Shall we use first names?
Why not! Are you really a doctor?
I am. A surgeon, actually. I only stopped off to buy a few last-minute things he said, sinking onto the sofa beside her.
Your wife must be waiting, worried
She left six months ago. Got fed up with me always being at the hospitalon call, weekends, holidays. She took our daughter and moved back with her mum.
I must look a right mess, Emily said, embarrassed.
Quite the opposite.
So thats how the three of them saw in the New Year. And as the saying goes: start as you mean to go on.
After James left, Emily and my wife turned in for the night. Emily couldnt sleep, reliving his touch, the way hed carried her, the electricity in his hands. How could she forget that?
By morning the swelling was worse and the bandage was tight, but at least she could hobble around the flat.
Her delight was obvious when James came by again. He unwound the bandage, checked her ankle, and wrapped it up once more.
All fine now. Can you stand on it?
Were on first names, remember? Emily replied. Yes, I can.
Tea? my wife offered.
Another timeback to work for me, James replied.
Will you visit again? Emily asked a bit nervously.
His smile was answer enough.
Two months later, Emily moved in with him.
Hes not even divorced. What if his wife comes back? my wife worried as Emily packed.
She wont. He says shes moved on, already seeing someone else.
I just hope youre not in too much of a rush.
It was a happy yeartruly. Emily found herself jealous when he visited his daughter, or bumped into his wife. Shed seen a photoshe was beautiful.
Living with James, Emily began to understand his ex-wife: James was always on call, even during holidays; often pulled in for night shifts at the hospital. And there were young, pretty nurses. It was all too easy to fall for him. But when James was home with her, Emily was on top of the world.
A year passed, and despite everything it was a good oneexcept that James never divorced his wife, which always niggled at Emily. And my wife never stopped reminding her to have the talk, to sort things out. But Emily kept putting it off.
On New Years Eve, she was busy in the kitchen. A Christmas tree twinkled in the living room. A new dress lay ready on the bed. She was checking the roast when she heard James on the phone in the other room.
Alright, Ill come now, he said, turning towards her.
Another call to hospital? Emilys voice trembled.
No. My wife rang. Our daughters waiting, wont go to bed without me. Ill just pop over and be back in a flash.
But theres less than three hours until midnight, Emilys voice shook.
Ill be back! Just got to tuck her in, drop off her present. I promise. Ill be quick. He kissed her cheek and left.
Emily tried not to be jealous, tried not to fret; she got everything ready and changed into her new dress. The clock crept towards midnight, but James did not return. She didnt callfor all she knew, he was driving. She sent a message, but there was no reply.
Utterly drained, Emily snuffed out the candles and cleared the festive table, her disappointment overwhelming. She now understood Jamess wife more than ever. What if she returned? What would happen to her? She loved James.
Unable to bear waiting and listening for the lift any longer, Emily remembered Mrs Jones, the elderly woman from the ground floor. She lived aloneJames had told her shed never married, never had kids. Tonight, Emily realised, she was alone too. New Years shouldnt be spent in solitude.
Emily put salad and cake in two Tupperware boxes and went down.
It took a while for Mrs Jones to answer. When she finally unlatched the door, she peered at Emily uncertainly.
I brought you some salad and cakeI made it myself. Do you mind if I share it with you?
Come in, dear, Mrs Jones said.
Inside was cosy and neat, but no tree, no sign of a special meal; just a little TV humming quietly.
Emily set the food on the table.
Thank you, love. Sit down, Ill pop the kettle on, Mrs Jones said, shuffling to the kitchen.
Are you living with James? she asked as they drank tea.
Yes, Emily replied honestly.
Mrs Jones nodded approvingly.
His wife never spoke to anyone, never said hello, always wrapped up in herself. Didnt even work. Not like you. Been called in to hospital again, has he?
Hes gone to his daughter, Emily admitted.
Mrs Jones nodded sagely. Hell come back; dont worry. Hes a decent man.
And are you really alone?
All my life. Should have had a child, but it never happened. I once had someone. My best friend took him from me.
How?
After school I went off to train as a nurse in the city. My Fred stayed in the village. That New Years Eve, after my shift, I travelled back to see himwanted to see in the year together. The bus broke down, it was getting dark, no mobiles back then. So the driver went for help, we stayed put. But New Year was drawing near.
I started walkingwhat else could I do? It began to snow, then came the windturned into a proper blizzard. Id gone too far to turn back. I was young, in love, didnt think twice. The bus would catch me up, I thought. Ended up ringing in the New Year alone, right out there on the road.
When I finally reached his house, Id frostbitten my face and fingers. Four days I lay in bed, delirious. When I got better, my friend told me Fred was with her now: she said she was pregnant. He tried to talk to me, but I pushed him away, wouldnt forgive. I was young, stubborn. Moved to the city, never saw him again. Never got over him either. Years later, I found out shed lied about the baby. Fred took to drink and one winter drank himself to death. Good man, he was. Mrs Jones sighed.
So I never married. Loved just him. Ought to have forgiven him, talked it out. My life might have been completely different Mrs Jones dabbed her eyes. I see you upstairs. James never looked as happy with her as he does with you. If you love him, dont let jealousy eat away at youjust forgive him. Better yet, move away from here, start fresh. Shell never leave you in peace. Dont make my mistakes. Follow your heart.
Emily trudged back upstairs and cleared the leftovers from the table.
James didnt come home until the next morning.
Im sorry. Ive no idea how it happened. I think she must have spiked my tea; I only woke up an hour ago, splitting headache.
Why wont you divorce her? Do you still love her?
Of course not. If youd met her, youd understand. I only love my daughter. Look, I know I let you down last night. Trust me, nothing happened. Do you believe me?
Emily pressed against him, meeting his eyes.
Lets move away. Anywhere. There are hospitals everywhere. Youre a brilliant surgeon
He sighed. I cant talk about that now. My heads fit to burst. Later, alright? I love you.
He fell asleep and Emily lay beside him, recalling Mrs Joness words.
His daughters still so little. Kids forget things so quickly, dont they? Theyve not lived together for half a year now. This is all the wifes doing. Maybe she just wants to break me down, make me leave him. Shell fail. Im not giving up. Well talk this over when he wakes
Emily switched off the fairy lights on the tree and curled up next to James, holding him tight.
Love. That word says so little, but stillits all I have. I love you. In all the ways there are to say it. I love you.
As Woody Allen once said, When you love, you can forgive anythingexcept when they stop loving you.James stirred beside her, murmuring into her shoulder, his breath light and even. Sunlight crept timidly through the curtains, illuminating the bits and pieces of their life togethertheir shared slippers, a photograph propped onto the bookshelf, his stethoscope tossed carelessly on a chair. She listened to his heartbeat steady under her ear.
Sometime after noon, she brewed tea and brought it to him, the familiar rituals of care and comfort woven between them. He winced at the first sip, muttered something about bitter regrets and headaches. She only smiled, smoothed his hair, and perched next to him.
James, she finally said when the pain seemed to loosen its grip, lets go. Anywhere. Lets start our own storyno ghosts, no jealousy, no old lives clawing at our doorstep. We can make new traditionsnew holidays, together.
He looked at her, really looked, as though seeing the fierce hope in her for the first time. He took her hand, silent for a long moment. Alright, he said, voice rough with resolve and love. Lets do it. Lets go. Just us.
They gave notice, packed up with clumsy excitement, and left behind the citys long shadowsthe drudgery of night shifts and old doubts, the echoes of rivals and regrets. James found a post at a smaller hospital in a quiet seaside town where the salt air washed everything clean. Emily made salad and cake for new neighbors, who welcomed them with easy smiles.
Now and then, jealousy reared its headan old habit refusing to die easybut Emily would recall Mrs Jones trembling voice and Freds ghost, how too much pride and silence can mar a good thing.
One cold night the following winter, as the first snow began to fall, James slipped the ring onto her fingerno fanfare, just the two of them, laughter bubbling up between kisses as their future unfurled at last, bright and untouched. The New Years bells echoed across the quiet bay.
Emily toasted to love, forgiveness, and everything still to come.
It was enough. It was everything.
