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The Socialite's Secret

Page 6

by Carol Marinelli


  Luke opened the bag and took out her phone.

  I’ve gone away with friends for a few days. I just need to get my head around things. Don’t look for me.

  Luke hit Send.

  ‘I’m busy,’ Luke called, when there was a knock at his door.

  ‘It’s Angie.’

  Luke frowned. Angie rarely stopped by and she was the last person he knew to ignore an engaged sign.

  He opened the door. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Are you with someone?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then can I come in?’

  Luke nodded.

  They still got on.

  Both had agreed they would never have worked and were now colleagues and very good friends.

  ‘What the hell are you up to, Luke?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘So should I call Security, then? Because a certain famous woman is pretending to be a midwife and driving your car.’

  ‘Angie...’

  ‘What the hell are you doing, getting involved with her again, Luke?’

  A few weeks after they had broken up, Angie had seen the change in him and, knowing how lukewarm Luke had been about the break up, she’d been astute enough to know it hadn’t been about her. Luke had always been a bit aloof but he was frantic now and had finally told her why.

  Angie had held her tongue when she’d heard that he’d had a one-night stand.

  That wasn’t the Luke she’d known.

  And then to find out that the said one-night stand was in LA and pregnant with his child had had her even more confused.

  ‘Are you sure it’s yours?’

  Luke had always been so-o-o-o careful, it had made no sense.

  ‘Very sure.’

  And in the end, reluctantly he had told her, not just about that night but some of the things that had happened afterwards.

  ‘She’s trouble,’ Angie now pointed out. ‘She messed with your head big-time.’

  ‘No,’ Luke corrected. ‘Scarlet’s lifestyle messed with my head. When I was with her she actually cleared it. Anyway, I don’t need you with your psychiatrist’s hat on.’

  ‘Luke, she had an abortion without even telling you.’

  ‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Luke’s response was terse.

  ‘Just be careful,’ Angie warned.

  ‘Oh, I intend to be.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  SCARLET COULD BREATHE.

  For the first time in the longest time, as the garage door closed behind her, Scarlet sat in Luke’s car and dragged in a long breath.

  Apart from having taken a couple of bricks out of a very low wall as she had negotiated the narrow driveway to his home, the drive had been an easy one.

  She had kept glancing in the mirror, checking that no one was behind. At first she had listened to the radio, but when they hadn’t been talking about her mother they had been playing her songs. It had been too much for Scarlet so she had turned it off.

  She’d made it, Scarlet thought as she got out of the car.

  The garage was small and there was a door that she pushed open, stepping into a utility room and then walking through to the kitchen.

  The kitchen was far smaller than any that she was used to.

  Scarlet opened the fridge and there wasn’t much in there—a loaf of bread, some eggs and bacon. Scarlet thought of the lovely breakfast they had been about to have two years ago but never had.

  She couldn’t think about that now so she quickly closed the fridge door and sat at the kitchen table, but all she could see was her mother and those awful words from the fight they’d had replaying in her head.

  Scarlet was sorry, but not for what she had said but the way those words had been delivered and the effect they had had.

  But she had meant them.

  It felt odd to be here.

  An unwelcome guest.

  She walked down the hallway and looked at the phone, and saw that the answering machine was flashing. She hit Play.

  ‘Hi, Luke, it’s Emma. Just reminding you about Wednesday.’

  Scarlet swallowed. Of course he had a life.

  She held her breath as the next message played but it was some man called Trefor to say that training had been moved.

  Yes, Luke had a life.

  Still, there were no messages for her and that was a good thing so she moved through to the lounge.

  There was an open fire and some logs beside it but building a fire wasn’t exactly her forte so Scarlet sat shivering on the sofa, still dressed in theatre scrubs. She just stared at the wall and wondered whether, if it hadn’t been for her mother, she would have ever seen this place.

  Of course not.

  He was a very decent man and he was helping her out, that was all.

  Even though she was sure he would rather not have had to.

  Dusk arrived and apart from a trip to his downstairs bathroom she didn’t move, but then Scarlet realised just how hungry she was.

  She hadn’t eaten all day.

  In fact, she’d had nothing since breakfast yesterday.

  Yesterday she had driven for miles in a car the hotel had provided, planning her escape, too busy and excited for all that was to come to stop and eat.

  There had been a welcome basket at the cottage when she had arrived and in there had been some snacks and local cheese and condiments, but she had been too nervous to do anything other than put them in the fridge.

  Scarlet thought about the long walk on a pebbly beach that she had taken and the plans she had started to make that could never happen now.

  Anya had made very sure of that.

  She wanted the stone she had collected but it was in her jacket back at the hospital.

  Scarlet turned on the television and it went straight to the news. Of course her mother was at the top of the hour but, sure enough, they flashed the image of a terrified Scarlet as often as they could.

  ‘Scarlet is holding a vigil at her mother’s bedside,’ the press release said. ‘At this difficult time she asks for your prayers.’

  Scarlet flicked off the news and wandered into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and took out a carton of eggs but then she saw a bottle of grapefruit juice in the door.

  It was almost as if it had been left there for her. Scarlet knew, from their one night together, that Luke didn’t like it—he had screwed up his face and told her it was too sharp.

  The memory of an uncomplicated them made her smile and Scarlet poured a long drink and scrambled some eggs, even if that hadn’t been her intention when she had first cracked them.

  They were lovely, apart from the bits of shell that she had to crunch through.

  Maybe her mother had been right when she’d said last night that Scarlet could never survive without her.

  Now, as darkness came, she was ready to check out the house.

  The lounge she knew, she’d been in there for a few hours after all, so she pushed open a door and saw a study. There were shelves and shelves of books and on closer examination she saw they were textbooks.

  Scarlet pulled one down and opened it at a random page and, rather than being repulsed at the image she saw, it was actually quite fascinating. Still, she didn’t have time to read about ligature marks and entrance and exit wounds from bullets so she closed the heavy book and put it back on the shelf.

  It was a very masculine house, Scarlet thought as she headed up the stairs. There were no unnecessary pictures or flowers but she’d love to see it in spring, with a huge vase of something pretty in the hallway.

  He must have been in the middle of decorating because there were ladders and tins of paint at the top of the stairs. Scarlet found the bathroom but didn’t go in. Instead, she went down the hall and pushed open a door and guessed that this was supposed to be her bedroom tonight.

  She didn’t go in there either. Instead, she hurriedly closed the door and headed back down the hall and into Luke’s bedroom.

  There were dark green
sheets on the bed topped by a dark green duvet, and the bed was all rumpled and unmade. It was a very low bed with low tables at either side. There was a phone on one and some books so she knew that was his side of the bed.

  Yes, she was nosy.

  Scarlet opened up his bedside drawer and there were some foreign banknotes and cash and a few tickets, and she felt her lips purse when she saw an open packet of condoms, with its contents spilling out.

  She counted them.

  Scarlet couldn’t help herself.

  Oh, so he used them now.

  Bitterness, anger, jealousy all rose in her chest but she swallowed them down. It was very hard to be bitter about the memory of the love they had made.

  It was any woman who had come after her that had Scarlet drop the condoms back into the drawer and slam it closed.

  What did she expect? Scarlet asked herself.

  That two years on he’d be as stagnant in his life as she was?

  Oh, but it hurt, it really, really hurt, the thought of him with another woman.

  She left his bedroom and headed back to the one that was presumably hers.

  And that hurt even more.

  It was why she had so quickly shut the door on it but Scarlet opened it now.

  Would this have been their baby’s room? she wondered, then answered her own question with the very next thought.

  Of course not.

  Scarlet would have had her baby back in LA and the baby would have been balanced on her hip and paraded for the cameras and dragged everywhere, just as her mother had done with her.

  Luke would never have allowed it, though, and her mother had told her only too clearly the impossible odds she faced if she dared to leave.

  ‘A one-night stand?’ Anya had rammed it home again and again.

  ‘It was more than that!’

  ‘Oh, so you’re going to be a doctor’s wife!’ Her mother had gone into peals of laughter and her manager, Sonia, had followed suit. ‘I know I told you to dream big, but please...’

  Now she stood in the door way and it felt as if her arms were being pulled in two direction as her body was torn apart.

  Scarlet had cried so much today that she been quite sure that there were no tears left.

  For a moment there were none.

  Just a scream of rage that came out so loud and so raw that it had her sinking to her knees on the spare bedroom floor and she sobbed for her baby and, yes, she was going to hell. Not just for the terrible things she had done but right now, right this very minute, Scarlet wished that her mother was dead.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘LUKE?’

  It was close to ten and he just wanted home. It had been one of those days that never ended but just as he went to leave, Mary, the night charge nurse, called him back.

  ‘I hate to ask...’

  Mary did hate to ask, she could see how exhausted Luke was, but she also knew that he would prefer that she did.

  ‘There’s currently a two-hour wait but I’ve got a man here whose son is on ICU and all he needs is a sleeping tablet.’

  Luke nodded.

  ‘And a couple of headache tablets,’ Mary added. ‘His blood pressure’s high and if I get Sahin...’

  Sahin, the registrar on tonight, was thorough, extremely so, and he would run a battery of tests, Luke knew.

  ‘Where is he?’ Luke asked.

  ‘I put him down in the interview room. If you need a cubicle, I can bring him into one.’

  ‘The interview room is fine.’

  Luke knocked on the door and went in. He saw a gentleman pacing and he introduced himself.

  Evan Jones was doing everything he could to hold it together, Luke could tell.

  ‘My son’s not well.’

  ‘I heard,’ Luke said. ‘I’m very sorry.’

  ‘We just had some very bad news. The sister in charge suggested that I come down here. I haven’t slept for a couple of nights. I really don’t want to sleep...’

  ‘You have to sleep,’ Luke said.

  No one really knew why, just that you did, and if you didn’t, well, here was living proof that sleep was necessary. Evan’s anxiety was through the roof and his blood pressure was high, as was his heart rate.

  ‘Please, don’t start suggesting I need to lose weight or investigations,’ Evan snapped as Luke removed the blood-pressure cuff.

  ‘I shan’t but you do need to sleep,’ Luke said. ‘Seriously...’

  Evan nodded.

  ‘How long have you had the headache for?’

  ‘Since they told me unless they get a liver in the next seventy-two hours that they were taking him off the list.’

  ‘And when was that?’

  ‘Sixty hours ago.’

  Luke didn’t make small talk and Evan didn’t want it. All he needed now was rest and Luke wrote down his findings and wrote up a prescription. He then went and checked the script with Mary then dispensed it himself and went back to the interview room with a small cup of water.

  ‘Take these now for the headache and the same again when you wake up. And here are some sleeping tablets. Take two tonight,’ Luke said. ‘Good luck with your son. I’m on in the morning. If you’re not feeling better...’ Luke amended his words. ‘If there’s no relief from the headache or if you get chest pain or any other symptoms just come straight back down. Mary will make sure you’re seen straight away. I’ll be on tomorrow—ask for me.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Are you walking up to ICU now?’ Luke checked. ‘I’m on my way there now.’

  ‘I might just go and get some air.’

  Usually Luke would just go back to the flat on a night like tonight as he was due in at eight tomorrow.

  Luke even thought about doing just that.

  But Scarlet was at home.

  That gave him even more of a reason to stay at the flat, but it would be unfair to her, Luke knew. And so, before calling for a taxi to take him home, Luke headed up to Intensive Care.

  There were a couple of waiting rooms outside the unit that he had to walk past. One was taken up entirely by Anya’s team, the other contained the rest of the loved ones of patients on ICU.

  It was injustice all the way, Luke thought, but then he hesitated for a moment before using his swipe card to get in as he realised he wasn’t here for business reasons only.

  He was rarely conflicted—he was here for both personal and professional reasons, though he couldn’t really tell David that.

  Or could he?

  For now, Luke chose not to. He wasn’t crossing any lines, he was merely here to catch up on a patient.

  He would keep it at that, Luke decided, as he walked over to the vast station where various staff sat writing up notes and checking results as well as taking a quick break. All the patients had a nurse at their bedside and he asked Lorna, the ICU charge nurse, if David was still there.

  ‘He’s just in with a patient,’ Lorna said. ‘He shouldn’t be too much longer.’

  ‘How’s your night been so far?’ Luke asked, and Lorna gave an eye-roll.

  ‘Better than it could have been.’ Lorna sighed. ‘Thankfully the day staff had the foresight to arrange an extra receptionist to cover tonight. We’ve got one phone ringing hot solely to enquire about Anya, and it’s people using any guise...’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Her partner, her lover, a close friend, her aunt...’ Lorna turned as someone called her name. ‘It would seem that it’s her daughter now,’ Lorna said, and rolled her eyes once more. ‘Again.’

  Luke was proud of the staff at the hospital and how they guarded their patients’ privacy so fiercely. After a brief pause, Lorna was back. ‘You’d think they would get someone with a real American accent to call and pretend to be Scarlet.’ Lorna gave a wry grin. ‘Someone who at least knew their mother’s real name.’

  ‘Which is?’ Luke asked, because he’d never actually got around to that.

  ‘Anne Portland,’ Lorna said. ‘Are the p
ress still at the entrance?’

  ‘They are.’ Luke nodded. ‘Hopefully they’ll get bored soon and go.’

  ‘Not a chance,’ Lorna said. ‘They’ve just got wind that Scarlet isn’t here. I don’t know how they found out and I don’t want to know either. It didn’t come from my staff, that’s all I can say.’ She had seen it all before and on many occasions. ‘Anyway, I’ve got other things on my mind right now.’ She nodded out to the unit. ‘Ashleigh—an eighteen-year-old waiting for a liver transplant. We’re going to have to take him off the list soon.’

  ‘I just saw his father.’

  ‘Poor man. He’s been holding it together for his wife but he’s starting to lose it. And on the other hand I’ve got Anya’s people moaning about the coffee and the lack of information.’ She looked up as David came over. ‘How is he?’

  ‘One word or two?’ David asked.

  ‘One,’ Lorna said.

  ‘Gutted.’

  Luke looked over to the young man they were discussing. He didn’t need to be told that Ashleigh was in the third bed along. The young man was a sickly yellow colour and completely emaciated and exhausted, yet he managed to smile at his father as Evan walked back onto the unit.

  Evan returned the smile.

  God, life could be cruel.

  ‘How are you, Luke?’ David asked.

  ‘I’m well,’ Luke replied. ‘I just thought I’d stop by and see how Anya was doing.’ He felt as shallow as hell, especially when David rolled his eyes.

  ‘I never thought you’d be one to jump on the bandwagon.’

  ‘I’m just following up on a patient I thought I was going to lose this morning,’ Luke answered.

  ‘Sorry.’ David gave a brief shake of his head. ‘Long day,’ he said, ‘and it’s going to be an even longer night.’

  ‘You’re on call?’ Luke checked, and David nodded.

  ‘I’m doing a double.’ He got back to Anya. ‘There’s been no real change with her.’ He pulled up Anya’s notes on the computer and Luke read through the toxicology results that had come through so far. ‘She ticks every box...’

  ‘Yep.’ Luke read it with a sinking feeling. It really was starting to look less and less like an accidental overdose, especially coupled with the row that she’d had with Scarlet last night.

 

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