Love Me Or Leave Me

by Claudia Carroll

  Just then the waitress came back to take their order.

  ‘After you,’ he said.

  ‘Alright then,’ said Dawn. ‘And now I’m going to do something in front of you that I’ve wanted to for the longest time.’ Then turning to the waitress, she said, ‘I’d like to order the duck liver pâté to start and for the main course, I’ll have the fillet steak, medium rare, please.’

  She looked over her menu, caught Kirk’s eye and for one lovely moment, they both laughed.

  *

  Jo had been really looking forward to dinner, but after what had happened to that unfortunate Andrew Lowe, her appetite had instantly evaporated. She’d been texting Chloe to see if there was news, but so far, no answer. But then, she guessed if they were all in an ICU, all phones would have to be switched off, wouldn’t they? So she’d skip dinner and just go up to her room, she decided. And continue to do the homework on Dave’s good qualities that had to be done in time for her first session the following morning.

  But then, speaking of Dave, it suddenly struck her that she hadn’t set eyes on him all evening. So passing by Reception she paused for a moment and casually asked Liliana whether he was up in his room too?

  ‘Mr Evans?’ Liliana smiled prettily back at her. ‘No Ma’am, I’m afraid not.’

  Instantly, the hackles on Jo’s back were raised.

  ‘Well, do you know where he is?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, ma’am. But I can tell you that he’s not here.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You see, Mr Evans left the hotel about an hour ago.’

  SUNDAY

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chloe.

  It was the smallest part of the wee, small hours. Just past midnight now and Rob and I are still here, still outside the ICU, still waiting on news. I can’t believe the guy’s waited with me this long. And not only that, but he keeps trying to jolly me along and stop all my incessant stressing and fretting. Not that anything will stop me worrying, but still, I’m appreciating his efforts.

  In fact, ever since we got here, I’ve lost count of the number of times he’s gone to the vending machine for coffee that actually tastes like a lukewarm puddle on the side of the road, then forced it down my throat, telling me that it’ll do me good. Or how often he’s said, ‘Okay, so I know you think this is high drama, but believe me, this is nothing. Remind me to tell you about the night I had three ambulances outside my hotel in Paris.’

  And I’m smiling at him and appreciating the gesture, but then reverting back to my natural factory default setting of ‘worry’. Anyway, after what feels like an eternity of this carry-on, Rob eventually slips his arm around me and gives me an awkward sort of sideways hug.

  ‘Come on, Chloe,’ he says encouragingly. ‘We can’t blame ourselves. When you’re in a business where you deal with the public, anything can and will happen. I’ve seen it all before and I’ve still lived to tell the tale.’

  Then not long after midnight, this attractive looking young woman arrives. Late twenties, dark shoulder length hair, dressed in boyfriend jeans and a fabulously expensive looking top; very Harvey Nichols, if you get me. As if she was out somewhere fancy and had to drop everything to rush here. She comes in, looking pale and shocked and makes straight for an ICU nurse.

  ‘Hi,’ she says in a small, frightened little voice. ‘I’m here to see my Dad, Andrew Lowe. I’m his daughter, Alannah.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ an exhausted looking ICU nurse tells her, ‘I’m afraid Mr Lowe is under observation right now. But don’t worry, his wife is with him and we’re doing everything we can.’

  Alannah nods but says nothing, so taking the lead, I introduce myself.

  ‘Hi there,’ I tell her, ‘I just wanted to say that I’m Chloe, General Manager at the Hope Street Hotel, where your Dad was staying …’

  ‘Good to meet you,’ Rob says, sliding up beside me, all tall and confident. ‘Rob from Ferndale Hotels. I just want to say that we’re here for you and if there’s anything we can do –’

  ‘Thanks, that’s good of you,’ Alannah says and for a split second, behind the immaculately dressed surface, I can see a worried, frightened little girl underneath.

  Just at that moment, Lucy steps out of the ICU, looking ghostly white and washed out, bless her, and practically swaying on her feet with tiredness.

  Immediately, Rob and I are on our feet and straight over to her.

  ‘I can’t believe you both waited with me all this time!’ she says gratefully, as I give her hand a tight squeeze. Then she spots Alannah and immediately says ‘Hi,’ addressing her directly.

  ‘Lucy,’ says Alannah, stiffening just a little. But Lucy heads over to where she’s standing and puts a supportive arm on her shoulder.

  ‘It’s good of you to come,’ she began, a bit nervously.

  ‘Of course I’m here, I came the minute you called … and thanks, by the way.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For letting Josh and me know.’

  ‘Alannah, of course I wanted you both to know! And your Dad will be so pleased you’re here.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘Honest answer? I don’t know yet.’

  ‘They’ve put in a stent, I overheard that young consultant saying,’ Rob says helpfully. ‘That’s surely good news.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Lucy nods. ‘And they’ve just run a pile of tests too, but they’re keeping him in to do a few more tomorrow, just to make sure there aren’t any further blockages …’

  She sounds a bit wobbly, the combination of anxiety and exhaustion really hitting her, so I go to give her a big, warm hug and hold the girl tight.

  ‘Come on now. The main thing is that he’s getting the best care possible,’ I tell her comfortingly.

  ‘Of course, yeah …’ is all she can keep repeating, like it’s still all sinking in. ‘I’ve asked the nurse if I can stay with him tonight and she said it would be fine. I’m not leaving him here alone, I just couldn’t …’

  And then the most astonishing thing of all. A small step for man, a giant leap for mankind. Walking over to Lucy and linking her arm supportively, Alannah steers her back towards the ICU and says, ‘Don’t worry. I’m here now. So what do you say we wait with him together.’

  *

  Back inside the ICU, Lucy sat tensely by Andrew’s bedside and gripped his hand tight.

  ‘I’m right here, sweetheart,’ she told him gently, far from certain that he could even hear her. ‘And if I had any part in driving you to this, I’m so, so sorry. Just pull through this, Andrew. And I’ll be right here waiting for you. Because from now on, I’m never leaving your side again. And that’s a promise.’

  She didn’t have a tissue, so she dabbed her eyes with the edge of her sleeve and then caught Alannah looking over at her, with just the weirdest expression on her face.

  ‘You okay?’ Lucy asked, genuinely concerned.

  ‘Be a lot more okay if Dad wasn’t in an intensive care unit.’

  ‘Well, wouldn’t we all?’

  A long pause while both women just looked across Andrew’s bed at each other.

  ‘Alannah … I hope you know how sorry I am,’ Lucy eventually said to her, barely knowing why. It just somehow felt that the moment was right. ‘Well … for everything. For all the pain that your Dad and I caused your family. For absolutely everything. I really do mean that, so sincerely. Because, God forbid, if anything happens to your Dad … well … I know the one thing he’d want is for us to get along.’

  She had to dab her eyes again, so this time, Alannah spoke.

  ‘That’s … well, I suppose … if nothing else, I appreciate you saying it. And for my part … emm, if I ever gave you a hard time, then I’m sorry too.’

  A tiny, minuscule breakthrough, and yet somehow it gave Lucy a small bit of comfort. Maybe there was hope for her and Andrew after all. Another pause before Alannah spoke again.

  ‘You really do love him, don’t you?’ she said, studyin
g Lucy’s expression closely from across the bed.

  ‘Course I do. I mean … what did you all think?’

  Chloe.

  There’s nothing more we can do tonight, only wait and pray, so not long after 1 a.m., Lucy steps out of the ICU to thank Rob and I for waiting and to tell us to get home and sleep.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she says, as I give her a warm hug goodbye. ‘I’ll be in touch the minute there’s any news.’

  So wall-falling with tiredness, Rob offers a cab to take me home, then him back to his hotel and I gratefully accept. He steps outside to order the taxi and I follow him a few minutes later. It’s pitch dark outside and I walk to the far side of the car park looking right, left and centre for Rob. As it turns out though, I hear him before I actually see him.

  ‘Hi sweetheart, I know you’re fast asleep by now, so this is just a quick voicemail,’ he’s saying in a low voice down into his phone. ‘But I just wanted to say I’m so sorry for not calling you this evening. I’ll explain all when we’re talking tomorrow. And I can’t wait to see you next week. Love you, my angel.’

  He’s onto the girlfriend. Funny, but he and I have been working together so intensively over the past few days that I’d actually put that whole side of his life entirely out of my mind.

  Shame though, I find myself smiling, thinking back to when he and I first met and how intimidated I was by Rob. Because now … well, we’ve been working together side by side this whole weekend so closely and intensively, that … well, I suppose I’ll just miss him when this is all over and he whisks himself off to Dubai or Milan or whatever five-star hotel in whatever exotic corner of the globe that’s screaming out for him to troubleshoot in. Kind of like Superman, except with money.

  Bloody typical, I think. First interesting, funny, warm-hearted man that I’ve met since, well since my one-time fiancé and wouldn’t you know it, he’s a) my boss so therefore off limits and b) clearly in a deeply committed relationship with a woman he can’t wait to get back to. But then what did I expect? It’s a truth universally acknowledged that the Rob McFaydens of this world are never single, isn’t it?

  I freeze in my tracks a few steps behind him, not wanting him to think I was eavesdropping, and yet there’s no way round it. Rob spots me, waves then clicks off his phone, just as our cab arrives and he holds the door open for me.

  ‘Well that’s certainly one night I won’t forget in a hurry,’ he says dryly, as I give the driver the address of my parents’ house.

  ‘Are you joking me? I’ll be having therapy about this for years to come!’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, Chloe,’ he says, looking at me keenly through the darkness. ‘These things do happen. Believe me, when you’ve been in the hotel business as long as I have, you grow a thick skin. Births, marriages, deaths, I’ve seen the lot. When this weekend is over and when the last guest has safely checked out on Sunday night, I’ll take you out and tell you a few choice stories. I promise you, they’ll make you think this weekend was a gentle stroll in the park.’

  ‘I’ll tell you one thing though,’ I say, looking absently out onto the empty streets we zoom past. ‘Please God, if Andrew pulls through this, then I certainly don’t think he and Lucy will be heading for the divorce courts now, do you? They just couldn’t, they’re still mad about each other. Did you see that poor girl’s face in the ambulance? I thought she’d pass out, I really did.’

  ‘I sensed a bit of ice breaking between Lucy and that daughter of his too,’ he says perceptively. ‘Which can only be a good thing, I imagine.’

  ‘I know, and …’ I break off here, because it’s hard to put into words. And yet somehow I’ve got a feeling that Andrew will pull through and that he and Lucy will come out the other side so much stronger.

  And then I find myself yawning. Hardly surprising, given that I can barely remember the last time my head hit a pillow.

  Rob cops it instantly.

  ‘Look at you, you’re exhausted, Chloe. No need to come in for breakfast serving tomorrow, get some rest. You’ve earned it.’

  ‘That’s kind, but I couldn’t. We’ve all invested far too much not just in the hotel but in our guests too. And I have to be there every step of the way. Besides, I just have to know how each of their stories will play out in the final reel. Don’t you?’

  *

  At about the same time, Jo was up in her hotel room wearing her nightie, stretched out on the bed, sleepless with worry and working herself up into a right lather by now. Why had Dave left the hotel so late in the evening anyway? He wouldn’t … just have checked out, would he? Just given up, like that? Just packed up that manbag that went everywhere with him and walked out the door without a second glance? Would he?

  And then a fresh anxiety. If he did – was she herself to blame? After all, she forced herself to admit, she’d been nothing but abrasive and horrible to him ever since they first checked in.

  Then she remembered the awful sight of poor Lucy following her husband out of here on a stretcher and being led into an ambulance, with God knows what lying ahead of her. How would she herself have felt had that been Dave, for all their bickering and with all the bitterness that lay between them?

  Jo lay there, cursing her insomnia and tossing and turning till the sheets were twisted around her legs. Then, suddenly a sharp pinging noise through the silence made her sit up. Shit. She’d left her iPhone switched on and it must be a text coming through, she figured. So she switched on the bedside light and grabbed the phone, which was sitting there recharging.

  God, was it really half twelve already? Must be someone from Digitech screaming for me, she thought. Made sod all difference that it was the wee small hours here, this kind of thing happened all the time. Particularly with the US office, who expected you to be on the tightest of electronic leashes at all times, weekends, public holidays, the works.

  Jo squinted at the tiny screen in front of her as her eyes adjusted to the light. Just three short little sentences, that was all.

  GUESSING YOU’RE STILL AWAKE.

  ROOM 377 NOW.

  JUST TRUST ME.

  So, exactly five minutes later here she was. Clad in an oversized hotel dressing gown and not having the first clue what this could be about. She knocked gingerly on the door and he opened it immediately, surprising her by being smartly dressed, in a blue shirt and chinos she’d bought him ages ago that she loved on him, but he professed to hate. He’d shaved too and smelt lovely. Made a real effort, just like she was always nagging at him to do.

  ‘Thank Christ you opened the door when you did,’ she whispered, so as not to disturb anyone else. ‘I was afraid one of the staff would walk past and assume I was here on a booty call.’

  ‘You know, somehow I doubt they’d object,’ Dave grinned down at her, lighting up to see she’d actually come. ‘Bearing in mind that you and I are still married. At least, technically.’ He stepped aside to let her in and Jo actually found herself gasping – for a split second thinking she was seeing things.

  There were red rose petals scattered all the way from the door to a table for two, set up in the dead centre of the room. Three Diptyque mini-candles – in that rose fragrance that she loved so much – were flickering away as a centrepiece, and the entire room was filled with vase after vase of long stemmed stargazer lilies, her all time favourite flowers. Not only that, but tiny tea lights were dotted about on just about every surface going and all the room lights had been dimmed, giving the whole place a magical, almost fairyland feel.

  ‘Dave!’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s like walking onto the set of a Disney movie!’

  ‘But in a non-ironic way, I hope,’ he said, slipping behind the table and whipping a chilled bottle of champagne out of an ice bucket, then trying to uncork it, but making a right pig’s ear of it, like he always did. Which of course never failed to make Jo smile.

  ‘Give that to the expert here,’ she laughed, taking the bottle from him and opening it expertly in one wrist moveme
nt herself. It was Dom Perignon too. Her all time favourite. No doubt about it, he’d really pushed the boat out.

  ‘Ehh yeah,’ said Dave. ‘I probably should just stick to opening tins of beer, like I’m used to.’

  There was more too. The table was laid out with a whole picnic consisting solely of absolutely everything she loved. Duck liver pâté, smoked salmon, even the Neufchâtel cheese that she adored so much and hardly ever allowed herself, on account of the fact it had approximately the same amount of calories as a Big Mac Meal.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Jo kept saying, genuinely baffled. ‘You went to all this bother? For me?’ No one ever made thoughtful gestures like this for her. No one.

  ‘No bother at all,’ he said dismissively. ‘I just jumped into a cab, did a bit of late night shopping here in town, then went and found the nearest twenty-four-hour Tesco, that was all. Mind you, the hall porter here had to give me a hand lugging all this up here. The guy must have thought I just held up a supermarket at gunpoint. Fear not though, I tipped him handsomely and all was well.’

  ‘But … why, Dave?’ Jo asked, taking the champagne glass he offered her and easing into the seat he held out for her. ‘I just don’t get it!’

  He slid down into the chair opposite her.

  ‘Because if this is it, if this is the end for you and me, then I so badly wanted it to be special. I figured it was the least I could do, given what I put you through.’

  ‘But you didn’t have to …’

  ‘No,’ he said, raising his hand, ‘hear me out. If I may just refer momentarily to the elephant in the room that we so rarely discuss …’

  ‘Dave …’

  ‘… What I did was callous and thoughtless and cruel and stupid …’

  ‘… Well, I certainly won’t argue with that,’ she said, wincing a bit at what he was referring to.

  ‘… And although nothing would make me happier than if you were to forgive me and let us start over, I’ve long since accepted that particular miracle just isn’t going to happen.’