The Layton Prophecy
Page 27
“Alexandria?” I could barely hear Miles against the background noise.
I slumped on the sofa, longing unfurling inside me. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Heathrow. There are no more flights until morning.”
“Have you called the hospital?”
“An hour ago,” he replied. “No change.”
“Call again,” I told him. “Then call me back.”
I waited, my eyes closed, my head tilted back against the sofa cushions.
Miles rang again ten minutes later. “Cleo’s stronger. She’s out of danger. The change’s so dramatic the nurse called it a miracle.”
I said nothing. I didn’t think I’d ever felt so tired in my entire life.
“Alexandria?” he prompted. “Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“You knew,” Miles said softly. “You expected her to be better. Something has happened since you dropped me off at the airport.”
“Yes.” I told him about it, about the lack of air, and the desperate dash to Brandon and what I’d done. I desperately wished that he could be there, holding me, sharing his warmth with me. “Have a good flight home,” I said, and hung up without waiting for a reply.
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In the morning, we drove to the health centre in Brandon’s car. The X-rays showed that I’d cracked a rib against the platform edge when the crowd hauled me up from the path of the arriving train. The bones were lined up properly now, and the break would heal without any medical intervention. For a week or two, I’d be in pain, but no treatment was needed. Strapping was no longer recommended for broken ribs.
When I described my symptoms, the doctor grew puzzled. He said it sounded like a punctured lung. It was possible with a broken rib, but my lungs seemed fine now, and the break was not in a dangerous position. He told me to call an ambulance, if the symptoms returned.
Grace and Brandon dropped me off at Rose Cottage. I telephoned AVIS to pick up the rental car from outside Grace’s apartment. I didn’t feel up to driving. In truth, I didn’t feel up to much anything at all.
Only part of my fatigue was caused by the dull ache in my side, and the terror that I’d experienced the night before. The rest was uncertainty over if I’d ever see Miles again. The curse was broken. His job was done. He could get back to his life now, the way it had been before he started his research into the Layton Archives.
In an effort to soothe my mind, I ran a hot bath, and put on some music. I lay soaking amongst the bubbles in the green and white bathroom at Rose Cottage, listening to Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, my eyes closed to hold back the tears of exhaustion and loneliness.
The rattle of the lock on the front door startled me. Pain shot over my ribcage as I bolted upright. Thoughts racketed in my head. Maybe I was wrong about the curse being truly over. After all the false alarms, I might be bludgeoned to death by an intruder in my own home.
“Alexandria!” I heard Miles bellow from downstairs.
I sank deeper into the water. “In the bathroom!” I managed to yell back at him.
Footsteps echoed up the stairs, and then he filled the doorway, his jeans and sweatshirt more rumpled than ever. The deep lines bracketing his mouth made him look stern, and a haunted look filled his smoky eyes.
“I thought you were catching a flight.” The words barely made their way past the lump that choked my throat.
“I was going to.” Miles crossed the room with two long strides and sank to his knees by the bath. He reached down, his sleeves dipping into the water, and wrapped his arms tight around me.
His hug made me wince with pain, but in his hurry, he failed to notice that he was aggravating my injury. “I couldn’t go without you,” he said. “I checked in for the flight, and waited at the gate, but when the plane started boarding, I couldn’t make myself get on.”
“Your sweatshirt is getting soaked,” I said meekly. “And can you hold me not so tight? I have a broken rib.”
He withdrew his arms from around me and leaned back, a look of horror on his face. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Are you all right? Can I do anything?”
“I’m fine. Now.” I smiled at him, happiness and a sense of safety soaring inside me. “But I was so scared last night. I’ll tell you about it later. Now I just want you to hold me, but be careful with my left side.”
He wrapped his arms gingerly around me, and then he bent to kiss me, a soft, gentle kiss, more reassurance than passion, more comfort than lust, but it flooded me with warmth.
“Did you waste another plane ticket?” I asked when he lifted his head and gently cradled me against his chest.
“Yes, but I still have my original return ticket. I’ll go back next Sunday.”
“That gives us a week,” I murmured into his sweatshirt.
He propped his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back. “Those banns Rosemary was talking about,” he said, scowling down at me. “What exactly are they, and how long do they take?”
“Banns?” I whispered.
His scowl deepened. “You know. Those things the vicar needs to get out of the way before he’ll marry people.”
My heart did a summersault and failed to return to its proper place. “Two weeks,” I told him. “You need two weeks between taking out the banns and getting married.”
“Two weeks,” he said, shaking his head at me. “Damn it, Alexandria, you’re costing me a fortune in wasted airline tickets.”
I pressed my face against his chest, not annoyed in the least by his cast iron certainty that I’d be willing to marry him, or by his assumption that I would turn my life upside down and go to America with him, or his firm conviction that the world revolved around his wishes.
All I cared about was that I loved him.
THE END
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The Layton Prophecy
Old Man Layton, he goes first
Lost and lonely, dies of thirst
Bonnie Maiden follows soon
Love and marriage, that’s her doom
Death is diamonds, curse is gold
Those who seek them won’t grow old
Children, children, you be ware
Heed this warning, leave it there
Like a wheel, she starts again
Crosses oceans, rejoins men
When there's two, it happens twice
Death with heat, with crystal ice
Gold and diamonds, it’s all there
One can get them, one who’ll care
If they fail, don’t make amends
The Layton line, there it ends
About the Author:
Tatiana March was born and grew up in Finland. She currently lives in the UK with her boyfriend of twenty years who is a wildlife enthusiast. He makes sure that there are no birds singing at the wrong time of year in Tatiana’s books, or snakes biting when they shouldn’t be.
Books have always been Tatiana’s passion, and she is the author of more than ten published novels. When she is not reading or writing, Tatiana enjoys hiking, camping, and travelling around the world.
You can learn more about Tatiana on her website and blog
www.tatianamarch.com
tatianamarch.blogspot.co.uk
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Other books by Tatiana March
Project Seduction
Trouble with the Law
Home for a Soldier
Le PACS
Learning to Forgive
Lies and Consequences
How Cat Got a Life
Reckless Encounter
Rugged
Sing That Song for Me
Angelheart
Secrets of the Past
Circle Star
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