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Tom held his son close. ‘You remember when you had a cold last year, and you wanted to sleep all the time?’

‘Yes. I felt yucky.’

‘Well Bert feels like that, but much worse.’

Dylan was quiet for a while before he said, ‘We need to buy him some soup and chocolate.’

Tom laughed. ‘Do we?’

‘Yes. Harriet said her dad always gives her soup for a bad throat and chocolate for getting better energy.’

‘Does she?’ A stab of jealousy hit Tom that he told himself he had no reason to feel. ‘You like Harriet looking after you when Mum’s busy?’

‘She’s fun.’ Dylan looked over at Mabel. ‘Will it be alright, Dad? Does Bert’s mask look scary?’

‘A bit, but it’s helping him.’

As Mabel joined them, she stretched out a hand for Dylan to take. ‘Sorry, Tom, I couldn’t persuade them that Dylan was only little, so didn’t count as a whole person.’

Tom laughed at Dylan’s expression. ‘I am a whole person!’

‘Mabel meant you didn’t take up much room,’ Tom said with a wink. ‘Now, Dylan, I want you to take care of Mabel. Make sure she behaves herself. Okay?’

*

Bert’s expression changed from sombre to overjoyed, as he saw Dylan towing Mabel along behind him.

‘Well here’s a sight for sore eyes! An afterschool visitor.’ Bert patted the side of the bed, as Dylan let go of Mabel’s hand and scooted forward. ‘Quick, lad, climb up for a cuddle before the nurse spots us and I get told off for allowing you to crease the linen.’

Dylan giggled as he cuddled up to Bert. ‘You won’t really get told off, will you?’

‘Nah.’ Warmth seeped into Bert’s bones as Mabel sat beside him.

‘No mask today then, I was about to warn Dylan that you might look like Darth Vader.’

‘Ohh! Did you really look like him, Bert?’

‘Sort of, but my mask is white. See?’ Bert pointed to the machine behind his head. ‘It makes me sound a bit like him.’ Enjoying Dylan’s giggles, Bert said, ‘I want to hear all about school and Mill—’ He broke off suddenly. A sharp rattling cough took him unawares, making him shudder.

‘Bert?’ Dylan turned to Mabel, jumping off the bed and into her arms.

‘It’s alright. That’s what pneumonia does, it makes your breathing weird and sometimes you cough. Sounds worse than it is.’

‘Okay.’ Dylan didn’t look convinced as the old lady held him tight.

Mabel wasn’t convinced either, but as she held both the young boy’s and the old man’s hands, she prayed she was right. ‘Why don’t you tell Bert your good news while he’s getting his breath back?’

Trying to smile through his wheezing, Bert concentrated on the boy’s voice, determined not to have to use the mask.

Shyly, not sure Bert would hear him properly, Dylan said, ‘I’m going to be living at Mill Grange sometimes. I’ll be with Mum half the time and Dad half the time. I’m so excited. I’ll be sharing a room with Dad until Helen goes back to Bath, then I’ll have her room until we can find a home nearby. Can you imagine, Bert? I’m going to sleep in a room that’s ancient! People used to sleep in there before even you and Mabel were born.’

As Mabel chuckled at the boy’s concept of ancient history, Bert squeezed Dylan’s free hand. A little husky at first, he mastered his voice. ‘That’s wonderful.’

‘I’m glad you’re pleased. Dad said if I was a good boy and asked nicely, you might read me a bedtime story sometimes.’

Bert took his time, before saying, ‘That’s something worth getting better fast for.’ He beamed at Mabel, who was looking at the child sat between them as if he was a miracle of hope.

‘Seems to me, Dylan, that I need some magic medicine to get me better fast.’

‘Oh I can sort that out for you easily, Bert.’ Dylan’s expression became endearingly serious as he said, ‘Soup and bars of chocolate. They always make everything better. Harriet’s dad says so. Shall I ask the nurse to fetch you some?’

*

‘How was Bert?’

Sam was washing down wheelbarrows outside the tool store when Tom parked in Mill Grange’s driveway.

‘I didn’t get to see him myself. They’re strict on the visitor numbers. I thought he’d enjoy Dylan’s company more than mine.’

‘Where is Dylan?’ Sam gestured towards the empty car seat.

‘I dropped him off at Sue’s and then I took Mabel home too. She was worn out, bless her.’

Sam nodded. ‘She fell asleep on the way back from the Musgrove with Tina yesterday.’

Tom smiled. ‘I can report however, that according to my son, who did not stop talking about Bert all the way home, he’s on good form. Still having coughing attacks, but not so bad or so often. He sounds like Darth Vader on occasion apparently.’

‘Is that so?’ Sam peered around the door to the store, to make sure Helen wasn’t there. ‘You know I asked for your help on a secret matter the other day?’

‘Yes. I’ve looked into some of that by the way. It’s possible but pricy.’

‘Right.’ Sam rubbed his hands together. ‘Well, there’s something else I’d like us to plot and plan.’

Tom’s eyebrows rose. ‘I’m beginning to think you’re missing your undercover work in the forces more than you realise!’

‘On this occasion, I’m less confident my idea will be well received. I need to talk to Thea about it really, but as you and Helen get on well and work together, I thought you’d have more insight than me.’

On hearing himself mentioned in the same breath as Helen, Tom’s stomach gave a light jolt. He hoped he wouldn’t give his feelings away. ‘What’s this all about then?’

‘You know Helen is leaving us on the tenth, well, it’s her birthday on the twelfth. Her fortieth. Tina thinks Helen would secretly like to celebrate, but at the same time, she’d like to hide under a stone and pretend it isn’t happening.’

‘Right, so…?’

‘So, if we are going to arrange a party we need to get on and do it, or it’ll get lost in the wedding plans that somehow

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