Nathan himself was wearing black chinos and a blue shirt; the latter enhanced the soft azure of his eyes. Her gaze traced over the buttons, imagining them undone. Soon she might hear Tom’s heart beating in Nathan’s chest.

  ‘What can I get you? Tea? Coffee?’ Nathan’s words dragged Greer from her reverie.

  ‘Coffee, please. Milk, no sugar.’

  Once Nathan was in the kitchen, Greer took a further look around. No personal touches, such as photos of Isla. It seemed Nathan’s mother been right in saying they weren’t close. Jessica didn’t feature, either.

  Nathan reappeared, bearing a tray loaded with mugs and two plates. He placed it on the coffee table. ‘You like chocolate cake, I assume?’

  Greer nodded, despite her surprise. Should he eat refined carbohydrates when recovering from heart surgery? She was no angel herself with her own heart condition, but oughtn’t he to be more careful? She perched on the edge of the sofa and sipped her coffee while Nathan devoured his cake.

  ‘Nice watch,’ he said in between bites. The fake Cartier on Greer’s wrist had clearly fooled him.

  ‘So,’ Nathan said, once his plate was empty. ‘You wanted to meet, and now we have. To be honest, I wanted that too.’

  Greer fought to keep bitterness from her words. ‘Your mother would beg to differ.’

  Nathan blew out a breath. ‘That’s what I let her think. She can be very possessive. Overprotective, too. Acts like I’m twelve instead of in my thirties. Things only got worse once my heart gave out.’

  Tom’s accusations of how Greer was a smother mother flooded into her head. Nathan’s relationship with Isla clearly mirrored her own with Tom. Not the kind of similarity she’d hoped to find.

  Nathan took a sip of coffee. ‘I knew she wouldn’t take well to the two of us meeting.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Have you ever had major surgery?’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘Something like that—it tears you up inside. Being prepped for the operating theatre, knowing that your heart is going to be cut out of your body, that you’ll depend on machines and the skill of the surgeons, and that you might not survive anyway. Not to mention recovering from the anaesthetic, pumped full of drugs, accepting you’ve still got a long road ahead. Plenty of potential complications, including the risk of rejection. It messes with your mind.’ Nathan’s voice was strained, his face pale. ‘Then there’s the fact you’re alive thanks to someone else’s death. So no, part of me didn’t want to meet you.’

  Nathan leaned forward and, to Greer’s surprise, took her right hand between both of his. His skin was warm and dry, and a single thought pounded through her head. How Tom’s heart was pumping the blood that ran beneath her palms. Greer suddenly found it hard to breathe.

  ‘You want to know why? It’s simple. No words could ever express my gratitude for your son’s sacrifice.’

  Pleasure stroked soft fingers over Greer’s heart. Nathan Taylor was a wonderful man; how foolish of her to have thought otherwise. She’d been rude, too, by intruding on Nathan’s privacy and not making allowances for his health problems. Thank God he’d seen past her bad manners and reached out to her.

  She stared into Nathan’s blue eyes, their colour a stark contrast to Tom’s brown orbs. Not that it mattered. The room faded away until only she and Nathan remained, her hand clasped in his, the blood that flowed beneath her fingers propelled by Tom’s heart. A heady moment, one Greer never wanted to end.

  ‘Tell me about him,’ Nathan said. ‘I want to know everything.’

  CHAPTER 30

  Once Greer started, she couldn’t stop. She told Nathan how kind Tom had been, how generous. That, like him and Isla, she hadn’t been close to her son. How they drifted apart during his teenage years.

  Tears pricked her eyes. ‘I’d watch him laugh and joke with his friends and wonder why he wasn’t that way with me.’

  Nathan squeezed her hand. ‘That must have been tough.’

  ‘Yes. It was.’ Isla, despite being a cold fish, must have suffered the same hurt. Greer almost felt sorry for her.

  She described how Tom could pick up a pencil and, with a few strokes, capture whatever he saw. How Greer had always thought he’d pursue a fine art degree. Her relief when he chose graphic design. Far more career opportunities for her boy.

  Nathan, bless him, listened to her ramblings without interrupting. Tom’s gym obsession, how he ran every morning before work, the foods he liked, the movies, his taste in clothes. The words tumbled out in a torrent.

  ‘You loved him very much,’ Nathan said once Greer fell silent.

  Greer nodded. ‘He was all I had left.’ Impossible to mention Rose. Not yet, anyway. ‘I always hoped we’d grow closer, perhaps when he gave me grandchildren. Although I wasn’t entirely clear how he’d do that.’

  His forehead puckered in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

  Oops. She’d neglected to tell Nathan an important detail. ‘Tom was gay.’

  Something akin to distaste flickered in Nathan’s expression. Then it vanished, leaving only a warm smile. ‘Well, these things are more possible nowadays, aren’t they?’ He squeezed Greer’s hand again. ‘You’d make a wonderful grandmother.’

  She must have imagined his antipathy. ‘Thank you.’

  Greer picked up her handbag and pulled out her mobile. ‘Would you like to see a picture of him?’

  Nathan nodded. Greer thrust her phone before his eyes. ‘That’s Tom, taken on his last birthday.’ Her gaze flitted between the photo and Nathan. His features might be coarser than Tom’s, but their face shapes were the same. Nathan’s eyes were blue, Tom’s brown, but her son’s smile lived on in Nathan’s.

  She stared at him with a hazy sense of recognition. Something about Nathan seemed familiar, as though she’d seen him before, but she couldn’t place when or where. His superficial resemblance to Tom must have confused her.

  Greer’s fingers swiped over the screen, once, twice, a dozen times. Tom, in cap and gown at his graduation ceremony. Seated on the bonnet of his first car. Greer and Tom enjoying a rare restaurant meal. Her heart swelled with pride while she paraded her son’s life before Nathan.

  ‘More coffee?’ Nathan said, once Greer had exhausted her photos.

  ‘No. Tell me about you.’

  He shrugged. ‘Get prepared to hear lots of cardiac-related stuff.’

  ‘That’s fine. I want to know everything.’

  ‘Mum said she’d already told you the bare bones of what happened with my heart. The battle to manage my condition has dominated the last few years. Not what you expect to be dealing with in your late twenties and thirties.’

  It must have been hard on him. Even given her own heart problems, Greer couldn’t imagine what he’d been through. ‘You’ll be okay, won’t you? Now you’ve had the transplant?’

  ‘There’s no guarantee. It’s still early days, and rejection is a real possibility.’ Nathan got up and walked into the kitchen, returning with a small plastic box. In it Greer saw rows of tablets and capsules split over various compartments. ‘I’m on an insane amount of medication, along with weekly check-ups and blood work.’ He placed the box on the coffee table and sat down. ‘This helps keep me on track.’

  Greer stared at it. It was split into four rows of seven, with markers down the side: morning, lunchtime, afternoon, night. She used something similar herself.

  ‘What I just did? Walking into my kitchen?’ Nathan leaned forward in his seat. ‘Before my surgery, I struggled to make it across the room. Even a few steps were enough to exhaust me. That’s how bad I was.’ A rueful smile. ‘Your son’s heart—it’s made all the difference.’

  Her big moment had arrived. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words emerged. What if Nathan said no?

  ‘I want—’ Greer sucked in a deep breath. ‘Would you mind if—I realise it’s very personal, and I hate to put you on the spot, but—’

  Nathan smiled again. ‘I know what you’re going to ask. You told me yesterday, remember? How you want to listen to Tom’s heart.’ He unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the two sides apart. Greer stared at the angry slash that cut through his chest. She extended a trembling hand to touch it. ‘May I?’

  Nathan nodded. Greer knelt to one side of his armchair and leaned in while Nathan inclined his body towards her. He pulled his shirt further open. Her fingers trailed in wonder along the scar’s length. Greer tucked her hair behind her right ear, then placed it against the healing wound. She held her breath, and everything else disappeared as she listened.

  There it was; one, two, lub, dub, the regular back-and-forth of Tom’s heart pushing blood around Nathan’s body. Tears fell from Greer’s eyes onto Nathan’s shirt, but she didn’t care. Only this moment existed between mother and son, reunited. Tom hadn’t died; her boy lived on in Nathan Taylor and the world was wonderful again. Greer flung her arms around him, forcing him into an awkward hug.

  ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was a whisper through her tears. ‘This means the world to me.’

  ‘It’s the least I could do.’ A lack of warmth coloured Nathan’s words; as she pulled back to stare at him, Greer detected distaste in his expression again.

  He probably wasn’t good at handling emotions. What they’d shared was rare and precious; Greer had been more prepared than Nathan. She settled her ear against his scar once more.

  Long before she was ready, Nathan pushed her away. ‘If you don’t mind, I need to use the toilet.’

  When he returned, Greer risked asking the second question burning through her brain. ‘Can we meet again? Please?’ She held her breath.

  To her relief, Nathan smiled. ‘Of course. I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Yes.’ Another smile. ‘I hadn’t realised how much I needed this. I feel a connection with you, Greer. More than I imagined possible.’

  CHAPTER 31

  Back at her hotel, Greer sank onto the bed, the memory of Tom’s heartbeat precious beyond words. And—even better—Nathan had agreed to meet up again.

  The room grew dark as fantasies blossomed in her head. She and Nathan, enjoying meals out at Edgbaston’s many restaurants. Greer, finally telling him about the wound Rose’s disappearance had slashed through her heart, mirroring Nathan’s own scar. How he’d take her hands in his, the way he’d done earlier, and tell her he felt her pain. Hadn’t he said how connected the two of them were, and after only one proper meeting?

  Yes, which meant Greer could lay her head against his chest whenever she wanted. Nathan wouldn’t refuse, surely? She couldn’t wait to listen to that strong, regular sound again. Allow it to stop her own heart from turning to bone.

  The harsh trill of her mobile jolted Greer upright. Nathan’s name was on the screen. How wonderful. She answered straightaway. ‘Hey, there. How are you?’

  ‘Stay away from my son.’ Isla Taylor’s tone was curt. Shock leached the saliva from Greer’s mouth.

  ‘He’s told me the two of you have met up. Twice.’

  ‘You’ve got this all wrong. Nathan got in touch with me. The second time, anyway.’

  ‘Only after you forced yourself on him the day before, despite me telling you to leave him alone. What the hell is wrong with you?’

  Nathan’s voice boomed in the background. ‘Mum! Stop this, will you?’ He came on the line. ‘Sorry about that. She grabbed my phone while I was in the kitchen. Can’t mind her own bloody business.’

  Greer would wager a boatload of money he’d just shot a hostile glare at Isla. A pleasing thought. ‘Ignore her. She’s just jealous.’

  ‘I’ll call you soon, okay? I have to go.’

  A few minutes after he ended the call, Greer’s mobile pinged. Nathan, of course. But no, Charlie Prescott’s name appeared on the screen.

  Well, that was convenient. She’d meant to contact him, but with the effort of tracking down Nathan, she’d not done so. Charlie might claim not to know anything about Tom’s boyfriend, but surely Tom must have let something slip? Or maybe Charlie could point her towards someone who could help, even though he clearly considered Greer’s quest to be misguided.

  She opened the message. Hey, Mrs M. Just checking in to see how you’re doing.

  Greer smiled. He always was a thoughtful boy. She should have contacted him much sooner, the minute she’d learned about the heart transplant. Charlie had the right to know that Tom’s heart was still beating, albeit in a different body.

  She tapped out a text. All good here. A lot has happened, though. Can we meet? In Birmingham now, but returning to Bristol tomorrow. She’d drive down the next day to get fresh clothes, do some laundry, check everything was okay at the house.

  Charlie’s response came quickly. Sure. Get in touch when you’re back.

  CHAPTER 32

  ‘You’re looking well, Mrs M.’ Charlie smiled at Greer as he stretched his long legs across the length of her sofa. Greer, now back in Bristol, had texted him earlier, asking if he was available that evening to come round for a drink.

  ‘I am. It’s great to see you, Charlie.’

  He grinned. ‘Couldn’t resist your offer of free beer.’ He’d already been boozing, of course. Greer had smelled alcohol on his breath when he’d hugged her earlier.

  Greer’s doorbell buzzed. She rolled her eyes at Charlie. ‘Best to ignore that. Probably Jehovah’s Witnesses.’

  The buzzer sounded again. Greer’s letterbox opened, and Beth’s voice trilled into the house. ‘Greer! Are you there?’

  Greer got to her feet. ‘That’s Beth. My neighbour. Do you mind if I quickly see what she wants?’

  Charlie took a gulp of beer. ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘Sorry to drop round unannounced,’ Beth said, as she pushed past Greer into the hallway. ‘I baked brownies, but I got the quantities all wrong. Ended up with far too many.’ She thrust a large plastic container at Greer, before catching sight of Charlie. ‘Oh, God, you have company. I shouldn’t have burst in like this.’

  How sweet of her neighbour. Beth hadn’t miscalculated her baking; she just wanted to check Greer was okay. She took the plastic container from Beth. ‘Thanks for the brownies. Come and meet Charlie.’

  Beth looked doubtful. ‘I’m not intruding, am I?’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Of course you’re not.’

  Charlie stood up as Greer steered Beth into the living room, a smile on his face. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Beth, this is Charlie, Tom’s best friend. Charlie, meet Beth, my neighbour.’ Not wanting to linger, Greer hurried into the kitchen, where she busied herself arranging brownies on a plate. She could hear Beth and Charlie chatting: Charlie was telling Beth about Tom. They seemed to be getting on well. Not surprising; Beth’s warmth put people at ease. She returned, carrying the plate of food.

  ‘I won’t stay,’ Beth told Greer. ‘It doesn’t seem right, not if you have a guest. Charlie, it’s been great to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise.’

  Greer smiled at Beth. ‘Come round for coffee sometime.’

  ‘I will. We’ll catch up soon, okay?’

  After Beth had left, Greer resumed her seat opposite Charlie. She took a photo of Tom from the side table and traced her fingers over his face. ‘Missing him doesn’t get any easier, does it?’

  Charlie shook his head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘I’ve been meaning to ask. Tom must have given some clue about who he was dating, surely? That bastard broke my son’s heart, Charlie. I need to look him in the eye and tell him what I think of him.’

  ‘I told you already, Mrs M. I knew he was seeing someone, but not who it was.’ Charlie’s lips were thin with annoyance. Her questions must hurt him, but how could she stop when so much was at stake?

  Greer set down the photo. ‘I’ll ask his work colleagues. He might have talked to one of them.’

  ‘I doubt it. Why would he tell them and not me?’ Ah, so that was it. Charlie was upset that Tom hadn’t confided in him about his new boyfriend. Why he hadn’t, she had no idea. Charlie might be straight, but that didn’t mean he was homophobic.

  ‘Could you ask Gary or Justin if they know anything?’ Tom’s two other closest friends were regulars on the gay scene. She didn’t have their mobile numbers, but Charlie might, even though he didn’t frequent the same bars.

  Charlie finished his beer and placed the can on the table. Without a pause, he popped the tab on a fresh one. ‘Can’t you let it drop, Mrs M?’

  ‘No.’ The word came out more sharply than Greer had intended. Although Charlie had a point; she wasn’t making any headway, so it was probably time to change topics. ‘Listen, there’s something important I have to tell you. About Tom.’

  Charlie took a swig of beer. ‘I’m listening.’

  His eyes widened when Greer told him about the phone call from Zofia. ‘Tom’s heart has been used in a transplant? That’s amazing.’

  ‘There’s more. I’ve met the recipient.’

  Shock flew into Charlie’s face. ‘Really? How’d that happen?’

  ‘His mum wrote me a letter.’

  She ran through her meeting with Nathan, omitting the details of how she found him. It seemed best that Charlie assumed Isla had been cooperative. Greer’s obsessive trawling of Facebook and her argument with Nathan’s mother didn’t paint her in a favourable light.

  ‘I listened to his heart, Charlie. I can’t tell you how much that meant. If all goes according to plan, I can listen whenever I choose.’

  Charlie gulped another mouthful of beer. His face was flushed, and a slight slur rendered his words fuzzy. ‘That sounds incredible, Mrs M.’

  ‘Why don’t you visit Nathan sometime with me? I’m sure he’d love to meet you.’

  Charlie stared at her. ‘That would be great. To shake his hand and know that Tom’s heart is keeping him alive.’

  ‘I’ll mention it to him, shall I? We’ll get something arranged.’

  He nodded. ‘I’d like that. I won’t listen to Tom’s heartbeat, though. That seems a little weird.’ A smile. ‘Not for you, of course. You’re his mum.’

 

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