by Suzy K Quinn
‘She put him into our care—’
‘That’s not the same as giving up custody permanently,’ I point out. ‘Care was supposed to be temporary.’
‘I wasn’t aware ... as far as I knew, Ms Blackwell had given up custody.’ I hear papers shuffling.
‘Did she sign a P12?’ I’m crossing my fingers that Annabel didn’t accidentally sign the permanent custody form.
‘Mmm,’ says Mandy. ‘I don’t see that form here, but ...’ There’s silence, then more shuffling. ‘As far as I was aware ... I was told ... hang on a minute.’ The phone clunks down on a table.
More papers shuffle, and then I hear Mandy’s voice again. ‘I do apologise. There’s been an error. You’re quite right, we don’t have a P12. Yes, Daniel can’t be adopted as yet. He needs to be fostered first. If Ms Blackwell can prove she has a stable home and environment, then it’s possible that the boy may be returned to her.’
I feel a smile growing on my face. ‘She will have a stable home. I promise. Very, very soon. Thank you.’
‘Okay. Well, goodbye now.’
The line goes dead.
I turn to Annabel. I mean to give her a hug, but something happens to my knees. It feels like they’re made of jelly. And my head starts to spin.
The next moment, everything goes black.
66
I wake up in the guest bed at Dad’s cottage. The sky is growing dark outside. My throat feels croaky and sticky, and my head is pounding.
I sit up, wondering how on earth I got here, and pull back the bedclothes to see I’m dressed in my own pyjamas.
As I pull myself upright, the room begins to sway and my head pounds harder. I feel hot and feverish, and there’s a weird metal taste in my mouth.
The bedroom door opens and I see Jen, holding Sammy.
‘Thought I heard you waking up,’ she says. ‘Are you trying to get out of bed, Sophia Rose?’
‘I was—’
‘Oh no you don’t.’ Jen puts a firm hand on my shoulder and pushes me back onto the pillow. ‘Bed rest for you. You’ve caught a fever. Overwork, the doctor says.’
‘How did I get here?’ I ask. ‘I was with Annabel.’
‘You fainted. Marc called an ambulance for you. But they said it was just a fever, so the doctors thought a home environment was best. You were brought here to be looked after.’
‘Marc was at Tower Clinic?’ I ask, rubbing my eyes.
‘No. But Annabel called him when you fainted, and he called the ambulance. He’s worried sick about you. He calls every half hour.’
‘How did I get into my pyjamas?’
‘You put them on when you got here. Don’t you remember?’
I shake my head. ‘I guess I really do have a fever.’
‘That’s what the doctors think too. But nothing too bad. Nothing that can’t be treated with good food and bed rest.’
‘What doctors?’ I ask.
‘Well, you have two private doctors looking after you right now,’ says Jen. ‘Doctor Holmes, Marc’s private doctor. And Doctor Freeman. A friend of Leo Falkirk’s.’
‘Leo?’ Now I’m really confused.
Jen nods. ‘Leo was at the cottage when the ambulance brought you here.’
‘He was?’
‘Yep. He was coming by to visit you. And then you showed up in an ambulance and scared us all to death. Oh my god, Leo is … there are just no words for what he looks like in real life. I nearly passed out when he turned up on the doorstep.’ She smiles at the memory.
‘I’m so sorry to worry everyone,’ I say.
Jen shakes her head. ‘Don’t you even think about any of us. Just rest and focus on getting better.’
‘Where’s Marc now?’ I ask.
‘You two have an arrangement, remember? He didn’t want to break it. I think he would have done, if your condition was more serious, but … he’s holding out. It was clearly torture for him, not being able to see you before. He wanted to fill this whole room with flowers, but the doctor thought best not. Just in case part of your flu was caused by early hay fever.’
I laugh. ‘Me, with hay fever?’
‘I know. Anyway, Leo recommended a load of healthy food instead of flowers. So the whole kitchen is full of it. Deli soups. Organic vegetables. Fresh brown bread. Squeezed orange juice. Lots of nourishing stuff. I think Marc was pretty impressed.’
‘Marc impressed with Leo?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘That would be a pretty big turnaround.’
‘I think Marc understands that he and Leo are on the same page, when it comes to looking after you.’
‘Wait.’ I try to sit up again, but one look from Jen sends me lying back down on the pillow. ‘Were they both here?’
‘Yep.’ Jen shifts Sammy from one hip to the other. ‘Both of them. Marc was going out of his mind with worry. I think he nearly broke your agreement, to be honest. But he stayed strong. And Leo … well, he was emailing homeopaths and acupuncture people and just trying to find out things that might help you get better. He’s such a sweet guy. A really sweet guy.’
‘Yes he … Jen? You’ve gone all gushing all of a sudden.’
‘Have I? Well … Leo and I were talking for ages, and we really got along …’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ I say with a smile. ‘Does Dad know that Marc called an ambulance for me? And that he had me sent here?’
‘Yes.’ Jen pauses. ‘I think it helped your Dad’s view of Marc. To see how much he cares.’
I sit up, suddenly. ‘Oh my god, what time is it? I have a show tonight.’
‘It’s okay, Sophia. Davina knows you’re sick. The show can afford to lose a few nights.’
‘But—’
‘No arguments. It’s doctor’s orders that you rest in bed for a few days. If you don’t, you’ll just get sicker and probably end up not being able to finish the show run at all.’
‘I hate letting people down.’
‘I know. But there’s not much you can do, right now. Everyone understands.’ She hoists Sammy a little higher. ‘I’m going to take Sammy out for a quick walk before bed. He’s getting fidgety. Rodney’s here. And your dad’s here too. He’ll be happy to know you’re awake again.’
I yawn. ‘Jen, what time is it?’
‘Six o’clock. Are you hungry? There’s loads of food downstairs.’
‘It’s okay, I’ll get it—’
‘No you won’t.’ Jen shakes her head. ‘I’ll have Rodney bring you something up.’
67
I spend the next few days in bed, watching spring appear through the bedroom window. It feels so strange, doing nothing but resting. I’m not sure I’ve ever done it before. But the doctors and everyone else are insisting, so I’m trying very hard to listen – even though sometimes I’m dying to go downstairs and play with Sammy or cook a meal.
By the afternoon of day two, I come downstairs on wobbly legs and head to the kitchen.
Jen’s out with Sammy and Dad is working, so it’s just Rodney and I in the cottage.
‘How’s the patient?’ Rodney asks.
‘Okay, I just … I wish I could speak to Marc. Tell him I’m getting better.’ I pad over the lino in bare feet.
‘How’s the separation going?’ Rodney asks.
‘Awful,’ I say with a smile, going to the kettle. ‘But not long to go now. Tea?’
‘You, Sophia Rose, will sit down while I make the tea.’
‘Okay.’ I sigh, and reluctantly take a seat at the kitchen table.
‘So,’ says Rodney, filling up the kettle. ‘What is it … a week now until you can see Marc again?’
‘About that,’ I say.
‘He misses you,’ says Rodney.
‘I hope so.’
‘I’ve never seen Marc like this.’ Rodney gives me a kind smile. ‘You’ve changed him. For the better. But he’s suffering for it.’
‘I don’t want him to suffer.’ I watch Rodney pour hot water into mugs and add teabags.
&nbs
p; ‘No. Of course you don’t.’
I smile. ‘I wish I could be with him.’
‘You will be soon,’ says Rodney. ‘This last few week will fly by.’
‘I hope so.’
*****
Time doesn’t fly by, but little by little it moves. Or rather, trudges its weary feet.
After three days, the doctor says I’m well enough to get back to the show, and it feels good to be back on stage with Leo. I love performing again, and the show is as popular as ever. But these last few days are still passing slowly, especially at night.
I think of Marc constantly, and stay awake until the early hours, thinking of him and wishing he was with me.
During the daytime, I do everything I can to distract myself.
Ebony and I go riding in newly spring green fields, and I also spend a lot of time with Annabel, viewing apartments and townhouses, and helping her think about her future.
Annabel is really keen to work and pay her way, but she’s never had a job, so writing her CV is tough. A few museums and art galleries have offered her unpaid placements, though, and she decides to take one at the Tate Modern. It’s a start.
Day by day, I see Annabel growing stronger and brighter. I know she’ll be a good mother. And Marc and I will support her every step of the way. And day by day, I get closer to being with Marc again.
68
For some reason, the weather goes crazy warm the night before the show finishes, and Leo wants me to check out the roof garden at his favourite Mexican restaurant.
‘You’ll love it, Sophia,’ he tells me. ‘The garden has straw donkeys and red chilli fairy lights all over the place. And the best view of the London sunset ever. Oh, and did I mention it serves awesome margaritas?’
‘Several times,’ I say.
‘Come on. You must have run out of excuses by now. Can’t a friend take another friend out to eat?’
‘After what happened … that kiss … I don’t want to be disrespectful to Marc,’ I say.
‘Marc and I had a good talk when you were ill. I told him what an idiot I was. And how much I value your friendship. And I think … maybe he’ll never be totally cool with me, but he doesn’t want you to lose a good friend, either. He can tell that I care about you. And he doesn’t want that gone from your life.’
‘He said that?’
‘Words to that effect. Anyway, I think when he saw how well I was getting on with your friend Jen, he stopped being worried about me moving in on his territory.’
‘Jen said the two of you talked.’
‘She did?’ Leo smiles. ‘I really like her. I might even stay in London a little longer, if she agrees to go out with me. She’s worth putting up with bad English food for. Speaking of food … are you coming to dinner or not?’
‘You really think Marc is okay with us being friends?’
‘Yes. I really do. I mean, he said so.’
‘Okay. I guess I have run out of excuses. And actually, it’ll be good to have a distraction today. Time is moving SO slowly. I just can’t wait for it to be tomorrow. One more show to do, and then I get to see Marc.’
*****
Within half an hour, I find myself on a higgledy piggledy roof terrace of Mexican hats and cactus plants, drinking a frozen margarita and watching the sunset with Leo Falkirk.
It would be stupid not to admit how good looking Leo is. I mean, every woman in the restaurant is following him with his eyes.
‘Great margaritas, huh?’ says Leo, taking a swig from a bubbly tumbler of green slush.
‘Really good,’ I agree, taking a sip of my own.
‘Am I helping you pass the time?’
‘God, I’m terrible aren’t I?’ I say. ‘How do you put up with me?’
‘Well. The fact you’re super pretty helps.’
I blush. ‘Oh. I’m sure you’ve known plenty of girls prettier than me.’
‘Nope. You’re pretty inside and out. You don’t get many girls like that around. Marc’s a lucky guy.’
‘I’ve been so mopey these last few months. I’m really sorry.’
‘You haven’t been so bad,’ says Leo, accepting a bowl of handmade nachos from a waitress. ‘But promise me after this show, you’ll stay in touch. Even if it’s only so I can see that cute friend of yours.’
‘Why wouldn’t I stay in touch?’
Leo grins. ‘Us actors go with the tides. You make the best, most amazing friendships, and then poof! The film wraps up, the show finishes, and you drift apart.’
‘I don’t want that to happen to us,’ I say. ‘And it won’t. You’re a good friend.’
Leo puts his large elbow on the table and waggles his little finger. ‘Okay. Pinkie promise. We’ll stay in touch.’
I laugh and hold out my little finger too, linking it with Leo’s. ‘Pinkie promise.’
69
That night after the last-but-one show, I don’t fall asleep until 5am. Thoughts of Marc are running so quickly through my mind that it’s impossible to shut down. But finally, finally, morning comes. And after three long months of waiting, the day arrives when I can see Marc again.
When I go downstairs, I hear Jen in the garden.
I head outside to find her at our little umbrella table, peeling open a red Baby Belle cheese for Sammy.
‘Morning Soph,’ she says. ‘So. Last day, huh?’
‘Fourteen more hours,’ I say, taking a seat and watching Sammy playing on the grass. It’s a warm spring day and the daffodils are still filling the beds with sunshine yellow petals. ‘And I’m going to feel every second of them today.’
Jen smiles. ‘You put Romeo and Juliet to shame. How are you and Marc going to meet up tonight? Is he going to blast fireworks over the Thames at the stroke of midnight?’
I laugh. ‘I don’t know. We’re not allowed to speak, remember? But I’m hoping Marc will come to the theatre and see me after the show.’
‘Does that bother you? Not knowing how and when you’re going to see him?’
‘No. That part doesn’t bother me at all. It’s just getting through these last hours – that’s the problem.’
‘You were singing to yourself when you came out,’ says Jen. ‘Just like you used to. Am I getting my old, happy Sophia back?’
‘Hope so.’
Rodney pokes his head out of the back door. ‘Sophia. Can I get you breakfast?’
*****
I spend the rest of the day riding Ebony and hanging out with Jen and Sammy. And the day passes.
After dinner that night, I’m having my usual fight with Rodney over who will do the clearing up, when there’s a knock at the door.
‘I’ll get it,’ I say, drying my hands on a tea towel and heading out of the kitchen. ‘Dad will have forgotten his wallet or something.’
Dad is taking Denise out tonight. Again. The two of them are really getting along. It’s good for Dad to have someone kind and caring in his life. I thoroughly approve. Although I do feel sad for him about Genoveva and how things ended.
The village rumour mill says that Genoveva and her doctor boyfriend are having problems, and that she’s staying in a hotel right now. But since she hasn’t been in touch, and doesn’t take any of Dad’s calls, there’s no way of knowing.
I have to admit, I’m glad Genoveva hasn’t come back. She’s shown her true colours, and if she doesn’t care enough about Sammy to come visit, then good riddance. I’ll always be here for him, and so will Jen, Dad and Denise.
Jen is upstairs giving Sammy his bath, so I shout up, ‘I’ve got it Jen!’ as I pull open the front door.
On the doorstep is Leo, wearing a tight white t-shirt and ripped jeans.
‘Hey leading lady,’ says Leo. ‘Since it’s our last show together, I thought I’d pick you up one last time.’ He looks over my shoulder. ‘Is Jen here?’
I smile. ‘Yes. She is. You weren’t expecting dinner, where you? We just finished.’
Leo shakes his head. ‘Nope. Just the pleasure of
your company. And maybe Jen’s company.’
My smile turns into a grin. ‘Come on in. Keith will be here in half an hour. So you and Jen will have all that time to enjoy the pleasure of each other’s company. I think I might have some things to do in the garden …’
70
By the time Keith arrives, I have to practically drag Leo away from Jen. But not before he gets her number and she agrees to go out with him.
When I finally get Leo into the limo, all he talks about is Jen, from the cottage to the theatre, and I have the pleasure of agreeing that she really is the most wonderful girl.
Our last performance together goes really well. I have to keep reminding myself how special it is that this is the end of my very first West End Show run. But I don’t forget for one moment that in a few hours time, I’ll be seeing Marc again.
When the curtain falls to thunderous applause, I head backstage and find Jen and Dad waiting.
‘Soph!’ says Jen. ‘We have a surprise for you.’
‘How come you two are back stage?’ I ask. ‘And what are you both smiling about?’
‘We have a note,’ says Jen. ‘From Marc.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ Jen reaches in her handbag and pulls out an envelope. It’s plain brown, with the words, ‘For Sophia, to be opened immediately after your last show’ written on it.
I frown. Mmm. That doesn’t sound like something Marc would write, but … I guess he likes surprising me.
‘Thanks,’ I say, taking the envelope and ripping it open, tugging out the white paper inside. The note has been typed on a computer in a heavy, blocky font.
When I read the words, my stomach drops and my mouth falls open.
Time for revenge, Sophia Rose.
Tonight, we snatched your brother, Samuel.
We will hurt him unless you do as we say.
DO NOT TALK TO ANYONE.
Go straight to Marc Blackwell’s house in Richmond.
We will meet you there.
PAIN.
‘Where did you get this note?’ I ask Jen, trying to stop my hands from shaking.
