It seemed hours until they drew the curtains and asked me to go on up. He was at the end of the ward, by the window.

–  Mary! I thought you’d never come!

–  I only heard last night, late last night at that, so I couldn’t make my way here.

I was startled by the big hand that he’d flung out for me before I realised it was for me to hold. I’d never held his hand in public. It was warm and dry and something deep inside me rattled, a feeling of … belonging.

–  Well, you don’t look too bad. What have they said about you?

–  Oh, Mary, I can’t move my legs! They’ve X-rayed and I might’ve broke my back but they don’t know if the spine is gone too ’til the swelling goes down! What’ll we do if I’m off my legs, Mary?

I snapped to. What was he saying? He couldn’t walk? I just sat there with my lip hangin’. Why had I just sailed in here unprepared? Sometimes my own stupidity took my breath away. A jagged cut ran from his wrist to his elbow. It looked raw and sore and I was moved to kiss it, leaving my lips on it while big salty tears ran silently down my face.

–  We’ll manage, I managed to say at last. We’ll manage.

I sat with him for the next few hours while he slept. A nurse had given him something to make sure he lay still. I tried not to look at the shadows his eyelashes cast on his cheeks, at the thick dark hair of his arms and his big hands curled, helpless as a baby. I curled my own hand inside his but there was nothing, not even a flicker, and I had to push his fingers over mine to make him hold me. The callouses were starting to soften and he’d only been out of the fields a matter of hours.

The doctor came round in the afternoon and explained why John had to go to the Mater Hospital in Belfast. They had a specialist spine-injury unit there and my husband would receive the best of care, although it would be more of a journey for me to make when I wanted to visit. My top lip was stuck to my teeth and I kept licking its underside to set it free so that I could hold my mouth in a steady line.

He came to when they shifted him from the bed to the trolley. He didn’t speak but fixed me with a stare that made me feel as if I was being memorised. When I had turned from red to white and back again, he spoke.

–  I know you won’t come.

–  I will, I promise.