The Night Before Christmas. Alison Roberts
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best shot. Without thinking, he stroked the back of Lizzie’s hand with his thumb to get her attention.
‘Misty came through like a little trouper,’ he told her. ‘She’s in the paediatric intensive care unit now and still asleep but she’s looking comfortable. And everything’s looking just as I would hope. Dave did a brilliant job. Textbook stuff, perfect for filming and, believe me, I had a lot of boxes that needed ticking.’
There was a new sound from Lizzie. Still distinctly damp but definitely happier. A kind of gurgle that sounded like laughter. Her face appeared from behind the tissues, sporting a wobbly smile.
‘I’m so happy,’ she informed Jack.
His own smile came back from wherever he’d lost it. ‘I can tell.’
He might be making light of her reaction but there was no doubting the very real joy in that smile. It lit up her face. No, actually, it lit up the entire room and the joy was astonishingly contagious. Jack couldn’t remember when he’d last felt this happy himself. It was far more than the satisfaction of a job well done. This went deeper, tapping into long-lost memories or something.
You’d never get sick of seeing a smile like that, he thought. You’d be stupid not to do everything in your power to make sure you saw it as often as possible.
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