Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

divided into ‘transport’, ‘insurance’, ‘living with disability’ and ‘appointments’.
I grabbed the card and checked that it had today’s date. A little bit of me was
hoping that Will had been wrong.
‘Is your mother coming?’
‘No. She doesn’t come to my appointments.’
I couldn’t hide my surprise. I had thought she would want to oversee every
aspect of his treatment.
‘She used to,’ Will said. ‘Now we have an agreement.’
‘Is Nathan coming?’
I was kneeling in front of him. I had been so nervous that I had dropped some
of his lunch down his lap and was now trying in vain to mop it up, so that a good
patch of his trousers was sopping wet. Will hadn’t said anything, except to tell
me to please stop apologizing, but it hadn’t helped my general sense of
jitteriness.
‘Why?’
‘No reason.’ I didn’t want him to know how fearful I felt. I had spent much of
that morning – time I usually spent cleaning – reading and rereading the
instruction manual for the chairlift but I was still dreading the moment when I
was solely responsible for lifting him two feet into the air.
‘Come on, Clark. What’s the problem?’
‘Okay. I just … I just thought it would be easier first time if there was
someone else there who knew the ropes.’
‘As opposed to me,’ he said.
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘Because I can’t possibly be expected to know anything about my own care?’
‘Do you operate the chairlift?’ I said, baldly. ‘You can tell me exactly what to
do, can you?’
He watched me, his gaze level. If he had been spoiling for a fight, he appeared
to change his mind. ‘Fair point. Yes, he’s coming. He’s a useful extra pair of
hands. Plus I thought you’d work yourself into less of a state if you had him
there.’
‘I’m not in a state,’ I protested.
‘Evidently.’ He glanced down at his lap, which I was still mopping with a
cloth. I had got the pasta sauce off, but he was soaked. ‘So, am I going as an