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Fleur chuckled. As always, Rick had sensed what she needed, and this didn’t feel anything like the utilitarian metal walking stick that the clinic had given her. It didn’t mark her out as someone who was in recovery.

“I’ll hang it over my arm and use it to point at things.” She got to her feet, walking up and down the room with the stick to try it out, and Rick nodded.

“That’s good...they’ve cut it to the correct height. Put your hand a little further forward on the handle, and curl your finger around the front...that’s it.”

When she followed his instructions, the handle fitted her hand like a glove. “Where did you get this from? Boston?” She knew there was nowhere on the island that did this kind of thing.

“London, actually. There’s a place I know that makes all kinds of sticks, and I had it shipped over. Although, considering the storms we’ve been having lately, I imagine the most difficult part of the journey was between here and Boston.”

“They’re pretty much par for the course. The island’s often cut off in the winter.”

“So I gather...” Rick hesitated, as if there was something more he wanted to say. Fleur almost held her breath. Whatever more was, she’d take it. “So you’ll be going back to Boston soon?”

“Well, there’s the Fright Night to get through first. And I’m booked in to have the ganglion cyst on my wrist removed soon too. I thought I might stay with Mom and Dad until then.”

“The island doesn’t seem as bad now?”

His grin was temptation personified. She could so easily tell him, no, the island didn’t seem as bad, and that she might stay here for a little longer than she’d originally planned. But her whole life was on the mainland. It was a life that Rick had worked hard to give back to her, and it would always beckon her away.

She could make use of the short time she had left, though. She could treat it as a period dedicated to letting go of Rick gracefully.

“I was wondering... I’m going to cook for Mom and Dad the day after tomorrow, just to say thank you to them. I’d like to invite you and Ellie as well.”

Rick hesitated, and then nodded. “Ellie would love it. I would too, thank you.”

“Great. We’ll expect you around six?”

“We’ll be there.”

CHAPTER NINE

FLEUR HAD WORKED hard on the meal. Her mom and dad’s favorites, which might give Rick a taste of New England, and which he’d assured her Ellie could be persuaded to try.

In the end, everyone was happy with clam chowder, accompanied by crusty sourdough and a roasted vegetable salad, with baked apples to follow. Simple, hearty food, which was homemade with fresh ingredients. The mac and cheese that Fleur had prepared, in case Ellie baulked at clams, stayed in the refrigerator.

The large dining table stood in a bay window overlooking the harbor. Maple Island seemed at peace, for this evening at least. And the mood was reflected around the table, her dad joking with Rick and her mom taking Ellie onto her lap while she drank her after-dinner coffee.

Ellie had been fascinated with her dad’s study, the hotchpotch of unusual things that couldn’t fail to interest a child, and the piles of books. Dad had presented Rick with a signed copy of his latest book, and promised Ellie that they would write a story together after dinner. The two of them were sitting at the big old desk, made from reclaimed ships’ timbers, and Ellie was reciting a list of required characters and plot points.

“It’s a beautiful evening.” Her mom looked out of the kitchen window as she helped Fleur stack the dishwasher. “Why don’t you take Rick down to the harbor?”

It was cold outside, but the wind had dropped and the sky was full of stars, moonlight reflecting on the snow. “You want to go?” Fleur felt almost shy about asking him. Walking with Rick had once seemed the most natural thing in the world, but now there was no doctor-patient relationship to protect her from herself.

“Yes. I’d love to.”

They put on their coats, and Fleur opened the back door. Her dad had cleared the snow along the part of the harbor path that ran closest to the house, and no doubt other homeowners along the way had done the same.

Fleur took her stick but, as Rick had suggested, used it as a fashion accessory. It was his arm that prevented her from stumbling in the darkness.

“The stars are so bright here.” Rick looked up as they walked along the sheltered path.

“Yes. That’s one thing I miss when I’m in the city. The big night sky.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, listening to the sound of the dark, restless sea crashing against the shore. Breathing in the smell of the open air.

“So you know all about where I come from. What about you?” It seemed perfectly natural to ask the question, now. One friend to another.

“When I was a kid? The closest thing I had to a real home was my grandmother’s flat in South London.”

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