LITMIR.BIZ

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through the open door of the hearing therapy unit, he found himself in a small reception area, with a wide archway leading through to another room, which seemed to be set up as an informal association area. He could hear Jack’s voice and went to walk towards it when something in the boy’s tone made him stop.

      ‘My mum was in a road accident like Mrs Green.’ There was a silence and Matt started forward again, freezing again when he heard Jack continue.

      ‘She wasn’t all right, though. She died.’

      There was a rustle, as if someone had moved in their seat, and he heard Beth’s voice, clear and melodic. ‘I would be very sad if that happened to me.’

      Jack spoke again. ‘Is that how you say you feel sad? With your hand like that?’

      ‘Yes.’ There was a pause. ‘That’s right, Jack, you are telling me that you feel sad.’

      Matt sagged back against the wall, unprepared for the violence of the emotion that had hit him. Jack was talking about his mother at last. After two years of hardly even referring to her his silence had been broken. His lips twisted at the irony of it. Jack’s silence had not been broken. He had found another way to express his feelings.

      ‘My dad feels sad, too, but he doesn’t say so.’ Jealousy stabbed at Matt, twisting the knife in his chest. Why was Jack talking to a virtual stranger when his own father had tried so hard to be there for him?

      ‘Sometimes when you feel sad, you try to hide that from the people you love the best.’ Matt shook his head as the words reached him. She was absolutely right, but it was more complicated than that. But Jack was never to know that. No one was.

      ‘It’s because I’m just a kid.’ There was a trace of resentment in Jack’s voice.

      ‘You’re not just anything. And it’s your dad’s job to look after you, Jack.’ Her tone invited no argument.

      ‘I bet no one had to look after you when you were a kid.’

      Beth laughed. ‘Oh, yes, they did. Shall I tell you a secret?’

      Perhaps he shouldn’t listen. On the other hand, the kind of secret you told to a child was unlikely to be anything too earth-shattering. Matt found himself leaning forward.

      ‘I’ve got a big brother called Charlie. When I was little, he could hear much better than I could, and I hated it when he tried to help me. It made me feel stupid, as if I couldn’t do anything right. I used to pretend I could hear things when I couldn’t.’

      ‘How did you do that?’

      ‘Oh, there are lots of ways you can tell what people are saying without hearing them. Even if you can’t see their lips properly to read them, the expressions on their faces can tell you what they’re thinking. You just have to look.’

      Were his own secrets written on his face? Matt swallowed hard. Of course not, he was just being paranoid. Beth had made a connection with Jack, not him.

      There was silence and then Beth spoke again. ‘I’m sure you do miss your mum. But you don’t need to finger-spell all the words. Look, you can say it like this.’

      Matt squeezed his eyes shut. He would have given anything to hear Jack say the words that he knew were forming silently on his hands. But this would have to be enough for the moment. Beth had the tone exactly right—just a simple exercise in how to sign, which was allowing Jack to approach topics that he hadn’t spoken about before. Why on earth hadn’t he thought of something like that?

      Dared he try to catch a glimpse of them? Standing here was torture, but he knew that it was important to give Jack time to say everything he wanted to.

      ‘That’s right.’ Jack had obviously got the signs she had taught him correct. ‘Now, I’ll show you something else that you might want to say to your dad.’

      ‘I know what that is!’ Jack exclaimed excitedly, and there was silence again as he signed back to her.

      ‘No—look, like this.’

      Another pause, and her soft laugh sounded, curling around Matt’s senses like a gentle summer breeze. ‘Well done, you’re very good at this.’

      They had obviously concluded their business and Matt reckoned it was about time he got Jack home. He was going to have to wait to find out what it was that Beth had thought Jack might like to say to him, and the urge to see both of them was becoming irresistible. He stepped forward into the wide archway, as if he had just walked in through the door.

      She caught sight of him, and for a moment all Matt could think about was that her eyes, still dancing with laughter, were even more compellingly beautiful than he had remembered.

      It wasn’t just her eyes either. Every time he looked at her he seemed to find something else that fascinated him.

      ‘Hello, there.’ Her voice broke the spell, and Jack’s head, just visible above the back of the chair facing her, bobbed as he scrambled round to see his father. ‘We were just …’ Her hands moved almost unconsciously and Matt wondered whether the words that had not escaped her lips were being formed by her fingers.

      Jack ran to him, throwing his hands around his waist, and Matt dropped his case, his hands on his son’s back, his eyes still imprisoned in the curve of her lips. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, as if she had scraped it impatiently out of the way, little strands waving around her face in the kind of effect that a hairdresser might take hours to achieve. As she tilted her head towards him he caught sight of the cochlear implant that had been hidden by her hair the last time he had seen her.

      It took a conscious effort to drag his gaze from her face and look down at Jack. ‘Have you been good for Beth?’ Even her name seemed to linger in his senses, brushing his lips like the promise of a kiss.

      Jack nodded vigorously and Beth smiled at him. ‘It’s been a pleasure having him down here.’ She looked at her watch. ‘You’re a little early.’ The words were almost a reproach and her manner seemed slightly changed, a shade more distant than earlier on.

      ‘Yeah. One of my patients didn’t turn up for his appointment and a couple were early, so I’m ahead of schedule for once.’

      She made no comment. Matt moved awkwardly into the room, hampered by the fact that Jack had slipped his fingers through his belt and was trying to tug him towards her. Suddenly, the way forward became blindingly obvious.

      His fingers brushed her elbow and Beth almost yelped as she jumped back. She didn’t want him touching her, not now. Not after the bombshell that Jack had just dropped. Somewhere, alongside the sorrow at a woman’s death and the clawing regret that a child should have to suffer this, there had been sympathy for Matt. And however natural that might be, it was still an emotion. She didn’t trust herself with any kind of emotion when it came to Matt Sutherland.

      ‘I want to thank you for this afternoon. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for Jack.’ He had reacted to her start and was maintaining a safe distance now.

      ‘It’s been my pleasure. Jack’s been keeping me company and helping out with lots of different things.’ Jack wasn’t the problem. It was his father who was unsettling her.

      Beth turned her back on both of them, on the pretext of collecting her coat and handbag. Now that Matt was out of range and out of sight, she could think more clearly and her hands unconsciously repeated the resolutions that the heat of his smile had reshaped into restrictions. Stand on your own two feet. No more dating.

      When she looked around, Matt was already cajoling Jack into his coat, and she tucked the display boards that she was taking home under one arm and slung her handbag across her shoulder. Pausing to sign a goodbye to Jack, she made for the door.

      Jack signed back to her and then turned to Matt. ‘You don’t know what I said to Beth, do you?’

      ‘Not a clue, mate.’ Matt gave her a conspiratorial wink that would have

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