by Sue MacKay
Again, Alesha nodded.
‘For the pain from the burns and the operation on his shoulder, or was it his arm? I’m not certain.’
‘Probably shoulder from what I saw. He’s going to be in hospital for a while.’ Alesha drew a breath. ‘Karolina, can you tell me where the children’s home is? I’ve got a bag to drop off there.’
‘It’s easy. Come and I show you how to get there.’ She headed for the wall that overlooked the street below and the harbour beyond. ‘See that building at the bottom of the hill behind those shops? That’s it. I will draw on your street map how to get there. It’s not far, fifteen minutes’ walking.’
‘If I don’t get lost.’ Alesha laughed, ignoring the thrill of excitement in her veins. Here was a foreign town and she was about to go exploring. Travel was her favourite pastime when she wasn’t nursing. At last she was behaving sensibly, accepting her lot and not getting in a pickle about it. ‘Though getting lost can be fun in strange cities, as long as I find my way out again without getting into seedy places.’
‘You’ll be good down there, nowhere nasty. But with the map it is easy. Then where are you going after the refuge?’
‘To the Old City to have a look around, maybe take a tour up to the lookout.’ The tour took only a couple of hours and there was still plenty of time left today. If she hurried. ‘I’d better get showered and dressed. I only just woke up.’
‘It was an eventful night for you.’ Karolina chuckled as if it was a huge joke.
‘It sure was. And now I’ve wasted enough of the day as it is.’ She turned for her apartment only to have Karolina follow.
‘I’ll mark the map for you. Have you had breakfast?’
‘No. I’ll get something on the way to the shelter. But a coffee wouldn’t go astray.’ She filled the kettle and plugged it in while Karolina found the map on the shelf where the city info brochures lay.
‘There’re two good bakeries on the road below this one.’ She marked the map with two crosses. ‘Here is Kristof’s mother’s place where the children stay.’ She drew a big X over the spot with a circle around it.
‘That’s great. Thanks. Do you want a coffee?’ Now why offer that when she was suddenly in a hurry to get moving? Because she liked this woman who hadn’t gone ape at her for forgetting her keys last night, and was more than helpful today. Because this holiday alone wasn’t how it was meant to be and she wouldn’t mind a bit of company.
‘A quick one. I have to be at work in forty-five minutes. I’ll make it while you get ready.’
‘You have another job as well as running this place?’
‘Yes, because in winter there are not many guests so I need to keep the money coming.’
‘Mortgages don’t pay themselves, eh?’ No wonder there were shadows beneath Karolina’s eyes. ‘I’ll be fast. Milk, no sugar, please.’
After rubbing sunscreen on every bit of skin that might be seen by the sun and slapping her make-up on with less care than normal Alesha dressed in navy shorts and a snappy white shirt with thin darts down the front to accentuate her shape. There no hiding her height so she always aimed to draw attention to her breasts and hips.
‘Out here,’ Karolina called when she left the bathroom. ‘On the deck under the umbrella.’
Where she and Kristof had sat last night. Only he’d taken up a lot more space with his long legs and large, muscular frame. Hard to imagine someone so big doing delicate surgical procedures, but she’d seen it before when she worked in Theatre, and knew men could be as careful and light with their sewing skills as a woman. How gentle would Kristof’s fingers be on her skin?
Gasp. Stop thinking these random thoughts.
‘If you like I can walk part of the way with you. My work is in the same direction.’
‘That’d be great.’ Alesha gulped down her coffee. ‘I know you’re in a hurry. I’ll just get my bag.’
‘And keys.’ Another laugh.
‘Not likely to forget them again.’ At her side she crossed her fingers for good measure.
* * *
The sun beat down as Alesha walked down the steps that led from one street to the next further down the hill. After the previous wet, cool week in London the heat was heaven, and gave her another pang of nostalgia for summer at home. She was getting quite a few of those at the moment. Not that home was warm when she factored in her family, but she was not going there today when she was in paradise.
Her destination became apparent once she reached the harbour, a collection of low houses joined together with what must be corridors, and all tucked against the hill, bathed in sun. While it wasn’t glamorous it was warm and welcoming. The front door stood wide open, and since no one was about she walked in, calling, ‘Hello?’ as she made her way to the desk at the end of the hallway. ‘Hello?’ The colours were bright: pinks, greens, blues, yellow. Done for children, not to win a prize in a homemaker magazine.
‘Can I help you?’ she was asked in a classy Croatian English accent.
Alesha looked back the way she’d come to see an older, tall woman coming towards her. ‘Hello. I’m Alesha Milligan, a visitor to Dubrovnik.’ Was this Kristof’s mother? The eyes were the same mesmerising blue-grey shade. ‘I’m the idiot who locked herself out of her apartment.’
‘Now I know who you are.’ The woman’s face relaxed, her smile wide and friendly. ‘You’re the nurse who helped the boy caught up in the fire last night.’ When Alesha raised an eyebrow at her, she added, ‘My son mentioned you this morning.’
‘He did?’ There was a surprise. She’d have thought Kristof would have put her to the back of his mind the moment he’d seen her through the gate for the second time. ‘I suppose everyone’s talking about the fire. It was awful.’
‘It could’ve been worse.’ In the lady’s face there was sympathy along with a load of acceptance for what life threw at people. ‘The consequences of not using a gas tank properly.’
Had that been established already? Alesha wasn’t getting into details. She didn’t intend hanging around long enough to become involved in local events, other than what had happened last night. She shifted her balance, held up the bag of clothes. ‘I’m returning Kristof’s things. I probably shouldn’t have come here but I don’t know where he stays.’
I’d like to touch base with him, apologise again for being too forward.
‘You are most welcome here. Unfortunately, my son’s in Theatre at the moment. Removing an appendix for a young girl. It gives her merry hell regularly, but isn’t serious enough for the hospital to fix so he’s doing it. It’s our second appendectomy in two days.’
‘Her family must be relieved you can help.’ It was a shame she wouldn’t be seeing Kristof. He’d been her saviour. ‘Can you tell Kristof I said thanks, um, and sorry, please?’
‘Sorry?’
Trust this woman to pick up on that. As astute as her son. ‘I wasn’t in a good frame of mind last night. Before we attended the fire,’ Alesha hastened to add, not wanting anyone to think she’d done something wrong by attending the boy.
‘Kristof won’t be long. Would you like to look around our establishment while you wait?’ The woman was already walking towards a door, as though Alesha was expected to follow.
‘I’m on my way to the Old City to take a mini tour up the hill and to some tiny waterfall near the border.’
‘It’ll still be there tomorrow.’ Mrs Montfort glanced over her shoulder. ‘I’d really like to show you what we are doing here.’
Why? ‘I’m only in town for a few days.’
‘So Kristof tells me.’ She held a door open. ‘By the way, I’m Antonija.’
Certain she was being played, but with no idea what for, Alesha gave in and followed, partly because she hated saying no, and partly because her interest had been piqued last night when Kristof talked briefly about his work here. ‘Tell me how the p
lace operates. Do some of the children stay long term?’
‘We have permanent children, though we’re always trying to find families to adopt those. Then there are others who are brought in by strangers or the police who’ve been abused, abandoned, or have run away from who knows what.’ The older woman’s voice darkened. ‘Some go home again, or to relatives; some into state care, and others become our temporary residents.’
‘That’s so unfair. How do you cope with this day in, day out?’ Alesha’s heart was breaking and she hadn’t met any of the children.
‘With dignity, love, and difficulty.’
Talk about honest. How many people would admit to a stranger that it was tough doing what she did? Alesha smiled. ‘You must be a very special lady.’
The smile she got back was soft. ‘Thank you, dear. I’m not alone. There are a lot of kind people out there, some of whom come here to help.’ Then she turned brisk. ‘Come and meet some of the children. This is the classroom.’ Judging by the racket when she opened the door, the teacher was as much in charge as a sheepdog rounding up a herd of cattle. ‘They might be a bit nervous but don’t let that stop you being at ease with them.’
This woman didn’t know her. ‘I won’t.’
Alesha stepped inside and smiled. There was nothing particularly unusual about the room or the children. They were all dressed in mismatched clothes, and their faces and hair shone. Most of them sat at desks with books open, books they were ignoring, until one by one they became aware of Antonija and quietened down.
Alesha bit down on the urge to laugh. Undoing Antonija’s effect wasn’t on if she wanted to get out of here in one piece. Because she had no doubt this woman could be fierce if needed, and when it came to disrupting the children fierce might be needed. She’d seen a similar determination to do what was right in Kristof’s eyes when they approached that burning house. And when he’d backed away from her advances. Heat filled her cheeks and her arms tightened against her sides. What an idiot she’d been.
Antonija spoke to the children in Croatian before explaining to Alesha, ‘I’ve told them your name and that you’re visiting from London.’
How much had Kristof talked about her that morning? And why? He’d been all too happy to finally say goodnight when he’d returned her to the apartment so she’d thought he’d have all but forgotten her by breakfast.
The kids were all staring at her, some giggling. All except one. A skinny child—the long hair suggested a girl—stood stock-still in the far corner, one leg tucked behind the other, one hand gripped tight at her side while the other arm was encased in a sling. But worse than that, more heart-rending, was the blank expression on her face, closely followed by the incomprehension in her eyes. No one so young should ever feel that lost and confused. Except they could, and often did. And it was the most hideous place to be.
Alesha’s heart heaved. She wanted to race across and bundle the child up into her arms and hold her until her eyes cleared—which would take months, if not years. She didn’t move. Frightening the girl further would be the worst thing possible. That girl was putting it out there, ‘don’t come near’. ‘The poor darling,’ she whispered.
‘Capeka is our latest visitor.
‘Visitor?’
‘For lack of a better word. I don’t like calling them waifs or strays. She was found under a bridge by strangers, who brought her to us yesterday.’
Alesha nodded. ‘Kristof operated on her.’
‘He mentioned that? To you?’ Surprise rippled off the woman. ‘Sorry, that wasn’t meant in an offensive way, but my son never talks about his patients. Especially not the ones he sees in here.’
‘Guess he thought it didn’t matter when we’re not going to see each other again.’
‘Really?’
Alesha had no idea what this lady was asking about. Kristof telling her about the girl? Or that she wouldn’t see him again? It didn’t matter, though disappointment rippled through her at the thought of not seeing him once more. Now that she was fully awake, not half naked and exhausted, nor feeling as let down as she probably should, Kristof would probably look like an everyday guy. One she’d not think about at unexpected moments. ‘Does Capeka stand in the corner all the time? She doesn’t join the other children?’
‘Not yet. It’s early days. Sometimes it takes for ever for a child who comes here to feel accepted. She’s watching you, though. Interesting. Still, we’ll leave her alone to make her own mind up about whether to join in or not. Come and see the rest of the centre.’
There went her sightseeing, but it didn’t matter. She was more than happy to take a look around the home.
Nearly an hour later Alesha found herself wandering into the classroom again. This time she was alone, and the children were quiet, working on an exercise the teacher had set. Capeka remained in the corner, her eyes averted, and yet Alesha would swear the malnourished girl was aware of every move, every word uttered, by the children and the teacher. Nodding to the teacher, she went to sit on a chair at the back of the room, not intruding on Capeka but close enough to be there for her. Not that she had anything other than life skills to help someone with this child’s problems, and that wouldn’t be enough, but she wanted, needed, to be there for her. Wanted to send warm vibes across the gap between them, to let her know she wasn’t alone, and was in good care now. That there were good people who’d never hurt her.
Picking up a children’s book from the table beside her, she slowly turned the pages, not able to read the words, but murmuring her own version of the story. Not hard to do when the pictures suggested it might be a classic from her own childhood. When she reached the end she started again. And again. Until she felt Capeka’s gaze on her. Then she read the story again. The child wouldn’t have a clue if she was telling the story correctly or making up a load of nonsense but hopefully she heard the genuine empathy in her voice. As long as Capeka watched her she’d continue telling the same story over and over.
* * *
Kristof stood in the classroom doorway, flabbergasted. Alesha. What was she doing at the refuge? And in this room at that? Strange how there were nine children in here yet only one was fully aware of her.
Capeka was fixated on the woman reading a story out loud. Staring, unafraid of Alesha. Though there was no way the kid understood a word she was saying she seemed to understand the light, carefree cadence, the soothing facial expressions, the gentleness, the slow way Alesha turned the pages and touched the pictures. If little Capeka was so taken with her that for the first time since her arrival she was actively watching an adult, then he’d go get a bed for Alesha immediately. She was needed around here.
There was still caution in the girl’s expression as she listened, watched, standing in that awkward position. What that was doing to her leg muscles was anyone’s guess. The tension was there in tight tendons, and that clenched fist. In the pain in her eyes. But those eyes were glued to Alesha. Interesting.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ his mother whispered.
He flicked her a look. ‘Bottle her.’ He’d forgotten his mother had been behind him, and he never forgot when she was around. Keeping his guard up was automatic since his marriage imploded back when he believed in happily ever after. Before his father finished off that belief once and for ever. Before the guilt over blaming his mother for everything that went wrong in their family landed on his shoulders. He had to admit it, Alesha had intrigued him from the get-go with those beautiful eyes and that wonderful figure. Then there was her laughter and willingness to enjoy herself despite everything.
It seemed that around Alesha Milligan he had to be doubly vigilant.
His mother said quietly, ‘I’m going to ask her if she’ll drop in every day to spend time doing this with Capeka until she goes home.’
‘London, not home,’ he countered automatically. Keeping things correct was another hab
it from the past.
‘London? That’s handy.’ His mother looked up at him with a curious look in her shrewd eyes.
A look that paralysed him. Trouble was brewing and he wasn’t going to like it. But forewarned gave him time to prepare—if only he knew what he was arming up for. Unless he was being precious and it wasn’t him she was targeting at all, but merely getting help for Capeka from any source available. That was his mother to a tee. But the sneaking suspicion going on in the back of his head that this was about him couldn’t be denied, not totally. He needed to stay prepared, ready for anything. ‘Don’t even bother,’ he retorted just in case he was right.
She was impaling him with a smug smile. ‘Fine.’
Stepping away from his mother, he carefully closed the door, effectively shutting her out, and leaned back against it. It was hard to ignore that chuckle from the other side of the door though. His eyes sought a diversion. Alesha. Without all that stress going on she was more beautiful than he remembered. Her skin was peaches and cream, English rather than the outdoorsy skin that the few New Zealand women he’d met at the hospital seemed to gain over years in the sun. The smattering of freckles on her cheeks was cute, and added to her intrigue, giving an air of innocence that the wariness in her eyes refuted. Her simple white shirt was the perfect contrast for her golden brown hair tied back loosely into a thick braid. No doubt the temperature was too high to wear it out, which was a shame. Last night her hair had been a mess, all over the show, and very compelling. It had taken strength not to run his fingers through those rampant curls.
Why did she do this to him? What was different about Alesha that fizzed his blood in a way other women didn’t? Whatever, he wasn’t going to waste time figuring it out. They weren’t going to be a ‘they’.
There was no denying the churning going on in his belly, though, while Alesha looked the epitome of calmness sitting on that uncomfortable chair making up a story for a sad little girl. Too much so for his comfort. Because he didn’t believe it. There was history in her face and expressions, last night and now, that spoke of knowledge of Capeka’s pain. Knowledge gained from experience. Someone had hurt her, and he didn’t believe it was just that man who dumped her unceremoniously before her holiday. That had hurt her, no doubt, but there’d been more anger than the deep, gutting pain that a broken heart would cause. He should know. He’d been there.
