Keep You Safe
Page 33
Turning onto my road, a million different thoughts danced around my head—and none of them made clear or concrete sense. But all of them came to a grinding halt when it hit me that regardless of if I was ready or not to face those realizations, I would have to.
A car was parked in my driveway—Declan’s Volvo. And the man himself sat on the front step. He smiled broadly as he watched me approach, and my heart did a little flip.
After pulling my car up next to his, I got out of the driver’s side and shut the door behind me. “Well, this is unexpected,” I said lightly. “I figured that I wouldn’t be seeing you much, since I’m no longer a client. Although, let me guess—you have my bill, which is obviously so huge it needs to be delivered physically.”
He got up from where he sat and grinned at me. It was odd to see him so casual. I was so used to him in suits—all buttoned up, pressed and proper. Today, though, he was wearing a pair of jeans, suede boots and a dark blue sweatshirt that brought out the color of his eyes. “Well, technically, I am still your solicitor,” he said. Then his voice grew serious. “And there is another pressing legal matter we need to talk about.”
From his back pocket he extracted a brown envelope. The outside of the envelope was addressed to me, but care of Declan’s office. The seal was broken and it was clear that Declan or Alison had opened the communication. He handed it to me and my heart sank.
What now?
“This arrived at the office yesterday. I wanted to make sure it was kosher before I gave it to you.” He paused for a moment as he took in my questioning expression. “You probably should sit down.”
Furrowing my brow, I continued standing and opened the envelope, extracting a letter. “Oh, God. What?” I asked, an all-too-familiar dread seeping through me. Had the Coopers decided to sue me, after all? Maybe the judge had, in fact, decided to punish me for wasting the court’s time? Either way, I was sure it wasn’t going to be good.
“Just read it,” Declan said. “And then we should talk.”
Unfolding the letter, I was caught off guard when a piece of paper that looked like a check fluttered out. I caught it in midair and looked at what it said. My eyes grew wide when I read the figure inscribed.
“What on earth!” I exclaimed as I looked to the accompanying letter for explanation. What I found was a simple note. It read:
Dear Ms. O’Hara: It is our hope that you will accept this sum (strictly without prejudice) on behalf of the City College Biology Department. The situation that you faced is unfortunate, and we feel our laboratory is on some small level culpable for the misfortunate events that led to your daughter’s sickness and ultimately her current challenges. With a clear understanding that this sum doesn’t provide all the answers—nor is any admission of liability—we do hope that it might go some way toward alleviating the burden of what you and your daughter have faced. Very best wishes for the future and we hope that medicine, science and innovation help your daughter regain her independence in the near future.
My mouth dropped open. This check wasn’t massive by any means but at least enough to allow me to pay some of Rosie’s recent care bills while I was in court, help me make a start on Declan’s legal bill and, most important, allow me the breather I needed to pick up the pieces while I figured out what to do next.
It was an absolute gift and I knew I certainly didn’t deserve it.
But perhaps Rosie did?
“This can’t be real...” I was in a state of shock. My hands were shaking and my heart was hammering in my chest.
Declan chuckled. “It’s real, Kate. Someone from the biology department is apparently very eager to make sure their lab doesn’t receive bad press or get shut down. That, or they are just really good Samaritans.”
“This is more than just a nice gesture, though,” I said, still unable to believe it. This was the best thing, perhaps the only good thing, that had happened to me in ages. “And I already said I wasn’t taking any further action—this is just too much.” Then a thought struck me. “Declan, you can’t possibly think I should take this. Can you?”
I looked back down at the letter. No way was this really happening to me. It was just too good to be true.
“Well, it’s up to you what you do with it,” he said, slowly standing up, and I noticed his voice had changed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the ground. “However, I should tell you that I’m now no longer in a position to offer you legal advice.”
Turning my attention from the documents in my hand to the man in front of me, I met his eyes, confusion rushing through me. Was there some sort of hidden liability here that I wasn’t considering? I wondered, frowning.
“What do you mean? I trust you, Declan. I need you to tell me what you think.” He hadn’t guided me wrong since I first met him, and now I trusted him more than I’d trusted anyone in a long time—since Greg, in fact.
“Well,” he continued, meeting my gaze, his eyes twinkling now, “there is another reason for my visit—outside of this.” He motioned to the envelope. “Delivering it was officially my last professional duty to you. Kate, I can’t be your solicitor anymore.”
He took the documents out of my hands and placed them on the front step. Then, without further hesitation, he reached for me, encircling my waist in his strong arms. He pulled me close so that our bodies were touching, and my breath caught.
“I’m officially ending our professional engagement,” he said huskily when, finally, the meaning of his words hit me.
I felt an all-too-familiar blush creeping up my neck. But, this time, I didn’t fight it. “But what if I’m feeling litigious again?” I teased.
“You’re out of luck. And, for the record, I think you have experienced enough courtroom action for one lifetime.” He smiled, pulling me yet closer.
“Counsel, I thought you said we should talk.” I grinned up at him, feeling so giddy my head was spinning. “This doesn’t look like talking. And it doesn’t feel like—”
“To hell with talking,” Declan interrupted, his voice thick with emotion.
And then he kissed me.
Epilogue
Rosie sat next to the Christmas tree in the living room of their house. She had overheard her mum and Declan talking a while back about the possibility of them moving to a smaller house—somewhere easier for her to move around in her wheelchair—but then nothing came of it.
Declan had told her mum that she shouldn’t be too hasty and to try to take one day at a time.
Rosie thought he was right. Of course, it had helped a lot when Declan moved in with them just after Halloween. He was lovely—she really liked him and he seemed to really love her mum. And Rosie was happy when she saw her mum happy, too.
Which was a lot these days.
Of course, Rosie knew that she and her mum had gone through some terrible problems when she got sick and that she was still dealing with the effects of all that. She also knew that she wasn’t exactly the same as how she was before, but her mum and Declan were helping her get better and were always cheering her on.
So she knew everything would be OK.
Yes, there were times when she got really frustrated because she felt like her brain knew what she wanted to do but couldn’t make her body do it. And she pronounced words a little weird.
But the doctors—physical and speech therapists, her mum called them, kind ones that really helped her—said she was making great progress. Rosie didn’t even really need to use her wheelchair much anymore, which was great. She hated that thing and only used it when she was really tired. She had her walker most of the time now, and she felt herself getting stronger all the time.
Because she really, really wanted to go back to school to see her friends and learn to be a paleontologist.
“OK, Rosie, who’s next for a present?” Declan sai
d, sitting on the other side of the tree next to her mum. He wore a huge smile—in fact, he couldn’t stop smiling—probably because her mum had said yes earlier and was now wearing a pretty diamond ring on her left hand.
“I don’t know,” said her mum, crawling closer to the tree to get a better view. “These all look like they are for Rosie from Santa. Somebody was obviously very good this year. You keep on opening them, sweetheart.” She and Declan then settled back on the couch across from the tree, enjoying watching her open her presents.
While her movements were still a bit awkward, Rosie leaned forward and moved some of the remaining presents around, checking the labels. Yes, they all had her name on them. She smiled happily at the realization, but then remembered that gift for her mum Declan had helped her with.
“Mum,” she said, pronouncing the words determinedly. “Here’s one for you.” She was proud that she had gotten so much better at talking recently and she had practiced this a lot. She scooted around to right herself as she reached over to her walker and hoisted herself to a standing position.
“Oh, don’t worry. I can come over there and get it,” said her mum with concern in her voice. Declan nudged her arm—silently encouraging her to give Rosie the space to do her own thing. He did that a lot and she appreciated it. She wanted to do things on her own more than anything else.
“It’s OK,” she said, moving the walker across the wooden floor ever so slowly.
Something dawned on her as she started to move, her steps heavy and stomping, and the notion that she must look a bit like a T. rex made Rosie giggle.
But she felt good. And, most important, her legs felt good, too. Slowly, as she gained confidence, she pushed the walker to one side.
And much to the astonishment of her mum, who cried out with amazement and tears, Rosie walked toward her mother all on her own.
Just like she and Declan had planned.
* * * * *
Acknowledgments
Lots of love and thanks to Kevin and Carrie, and to my family and friends for their continued support, as always.
It’s impossible to put into words just how important Sheila Crowley—my incredible agent and wonderful friend—is to me. I truly don’t know what I would do without you, S; thank you. This one’s for you.
To Katie, Abbie, Rebecca, Luke, Anne and the whole team at Curtis Brown for championing my work so well in translation and film; I really appreciate it.
To my amazing editor, Anna Baggaley, who made this story infinitely better for having worked her magic on it—and to the wonderful Lisa Milton for championing the book from the outset; working with you both has been such a joy, thank you.
To the brilliant HarperCollins UK team in London—and also Annemarie, Tony and the gang for such a warm welcome to the HarperCollins family in Dublin. Big thanks, too, to Margaret Marbury and the MIRA team in the US.
Huge gratitude to the fantastic booksellers all over the world who continuously give my books such amazing support, and a special thanks to Irish booksellers for being so generous with their time whenever I pop in for signings.
Thank you, Janice Philp Davidson, for helping with a small, but very crucial part of my research; I’m so grateful, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before one of Jason’s stories hits the bookshelves.
As always, huge, huge thanks to readers everywhere who buy and read my books. I’m so very grateful and I really love hearing from you. Please do get in touch via my website, www.melissahill.ie, or via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Keep You Safe is very special to me and I really hope you enjoy it.
ISBN-13: 9781488023514
Keep You Safe
Copyright © 2017 by Melissa Hill
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