by Jill Mansell
Except . . . why was he looking at her like that, as if there was something still more significant that he needed to say?
And do I even want to hear it?
‘She thinks you shouldn’t be my patient any more,’ said Luke.
‘What?’ Confused, Hallie attempted to make sense of the statement. Was Tess Hannigan pathologically jealous? Was she claiming ownership of Luke and declaring that from now on he would only be allowed to see patients who were either male or over seventy?
Luke raked his fingers through his hair and said with a touch of desperation, ‘She feels it would be better if you only saw her from now on.’
Because she was a complete bunny-boiler, by any chance? Bursting with the injustice of it, Hallie said, ‘She’s allowed to just make those decisions, is she? And you’re happy to go along with them?’
He shook his head. ‘It isn’t a decision. It’s a suggestion. Tess was watching us earlier, when we were talking together at the party. She thought there was something . . . you know, like a connection between us. Apparently she has a talent for noticing things like that.’
Hallie’s mouth had gone dry. Luke was watching her and she didn’t know what to do with herself. Embarrassed, she blurted out, ‘Well, it’s not true.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘I mean, I like you, of course I do, but not in the way she’s saying.’
‘Right.’ Luke nodded, then shook his head once more. A muscle was jumping in his jaw. ‘OK.’
‘So she isn’t interested in you herself?’
‘What? God, no!’
Got that one wrong, then. Phew. ‘But she looked at us and thought I was keen on you?’
‘She thought we were both keen,’ Luke said evenly. ‘On each other.’
Was Tess right? Could there actually be a connection between them that didn’t just exist in her mind? Was it possible that it was – had always been – mutual?
Hallie’s knees began to tremble. All this time she’d kept to herself the reality of how she felt, because these were feelings that could never be acknowledged.
But now . . . oh but now . . . from the way he was looking at her, was there a possibility that something could be about to happen after all?
‘And what did you think when she told you that?’ She couldn’t quite believe she was asking the question.
Luke paused, took a big gulp of Scotch and swallowed. ‘I hoped she was right.’ He briefly rubbed his jaw, then fixed his gaze on her and said, ‘I really hoped it was true.’
Was there the sound of electrical humming in the air, or was it only inside her head? Hallie could feel the wooden back of one of the kitchen chairs against her spine, possibly holding her upright. If he’d taken the plunge, so could she.
‘I could never say anything.’ Her voice was unsteady.
‘Nor could I.’
‘I wanted to, so much.’
‘So did I.’ He nodded.
‘For ages.’
‘Me too. Can I just ask one question?’
‘Anything.’
‘You and Nick.’
‘What about me and Nick?’
‘Do you still have feelings for him? I mean, do you still wish . . .’ Luke hesitated, clearly not sure how to word the question he wanted to ask. ‘Is there . . . unfinished business between the two of you?’
So that was what was bothering him. Nick had mentioned briefly meeting Luke while she’d been asleep upstairs on the afternoon of his flying visit. She shook her head. ‘Nothing happened that day. He offered, which was kind of him, and I turned him down. He’ll always be a friend, but I’m over him now. We’re completely finished business.’
Luke nodded and exhaled, clearly relieved. ‘Well, that’s very good to know.’
Her new heart was thud-thud-thudding in her chest. ‘And you’re sure it really wouldn’t be a problem if I wasn’t your patient?’
‘Really not a problem,’ said Luke.
‘I can’t believe Tess saw it and no one else did.’
‘Including me.’
‘And me.’ Hallie half smiled. ‘Maybe she’s a witch.’
‘If she is, I’m glad. Otherwise we could have carried on indefinitely, neither of us ever saying anything.’ He moved towards her, reached for her hands. ‘And that would’ve been terrible.’
Zing-zing went the synapses in Hallie’s arms, in response to the touch of his warm fingers against hers. Oh my God went the voice inside her head as the gap between them closed and she kissed Luke Hilton for the very first time.
In real life . . .
It could never have happened before, but it was happening now. And it felt perfect.
Oh yes, some things were definitely worth the wait.
Chapter 53
‘Where are we going?’ Next to him in the passenger seat, Tasha’s head swivelled like a meerkat’s. ‘This isn’t the right way.’
Rory shrugged, looking innocent, and carried on driving in the direction he’d taken. It was Christmas Eve and he had a plan. At his side, Tasha, wearing a silver-grey faux-fur coat and a red velvet scarf over a cream wool dress, was looking amazing as always. As far as she was aware, they were due to be attending a dull but necessary lunchtime drinks party with his dull but unavoidable ex-boss and his wife.
He loved the way, despite the tedium of the event, she’d still made the effort to look her best. He also loved the way she’d individually wrapped home-made rum truffles in silver paper for two people she’d never met before and would probably never meet again.
Basically he loved everything about Tasha Sykes, his fiancée, the girl he wanted to be with for the rest of his life.
It was six months now since the transplant, and the first few weeks hadn’t been easy. Unaccustomed to feeling even slightly unwell, he’d found the endless setbacks hard to bear. Being grateful to still be alive was one thing, but his road to recovery hadn’t been smooth. There had been adjustments to make, both mental and physical, as well as problems getting the complicated new drug regime properly balanced.
Eventually, with the help of the cardiac rehabilitation programme, recovery had kicked in and he’d felt better able to cope with everything that had happened. Physiotherapy had begun in earnest and he’d regained his strength and stamina. The future had started to seem like a challenge he could conquer.
And throughout it all, Tasha had been there at his side, supporting him every step of the way. Nothing fazed her; she understood when he had down days and encouraged him with unfailing patience and good humour.
Now that the scariest part was behind them, they were both back working full time and the future was bright; having been given a second chance at life, he didn’t intend to waste a day of it.
‘Are you going to tell me where we’re going?’ said Tasha again.
Rory gave her knee a squeeze. ‘Don’t be so impatient. You’ll find out soon enough.’
‘Oh my God.’ Tasha started to laugh. ‘I don’t believe it.’
Rory had parked the car and led her through a rabbit warren of back streets. It wasn’t until they’d entered a shop via the back entrance, emerged through the front door and come out on to the main road that she realised where they were and why he’d brought her here.
The scene was exactly the same, the sound of Christmas songs being played was the same; the crowds were the same too. Only the first flakes of falling snow were missing, twelve months on.
Rory held her hand. ‘This is where we met, exactly one year ago.’
‘It is.’ Touched, Tasha leaned against him and kissed the side of his jaw.
‘Here’s our bin. It’ll always be our bin.’ Leading her over to it, Rory said, ‘If it wasn’t for this bin, we would never have met.’
Tasha pointed to a KFC carton, visible on top of the pile of rubbish. ‘Fancy a chip?’
‘Hmm, maybe not. Wouldn’t say no to a coffee, though. Excuse me . . .’ Rory turned to speak to a middle-aged man who was making his way past them. ‘
Could I ask you a quick favour? Would you just take a photo of me and my fiancée?’
The man stopped and took the phone from him. ‘Move away from the bin, then.’ They were standing either side of it like proud parents of a beloved only child.
‘It’s fine, we want the bin in the picture,’ said Rory.
Seeing the bemused expression on the older man’s face, Tasha gave the cast-iron lid an affectionate pat. ‘It’s the whole reason we’re here,’ she explained.
‘He thinks we’re mad,’ said Rory when the man had taken the photo, handed back the phone and hurried off.
‘Who cares? Look at it.’ Tasha gazed down fondly. ‘Our lovely bin.’
‘Shall we get that coffee now? Remember the café?’ Leading her towards it, Rory said, ‘This is where I was when I first saw you rolling up your sleeves and digging around amongst the rubbish.’
‘Coleslaw and cigarette ends. Cold coffee and ketchup dripping from my hands. I’ll never forget it,’ said Tasha.
He pushed open the door of the steamy café, indicating for her to go in ahead of him, and Tasha saw Carmel and Joe sitting at the table by the window.
Holding hands.
Actual hands.
She stopped dead in her tracks and Rory bumped into her. She pointed. ‘Look!’
‘What?’
‘It’s Carmel and Joe!’
‘So it is.’
‘But . . . but . . . they’re holding hands.’
‘So they are.’
He wasn’t sounding surprised. Tasha realised she’d been royally set up. Turning, she said in disbelief, ‘You knew about this?’
‘About what?’
‘The hands!’
‘Joe told me last night.’
Joe and Carmel were watching her, laughing at the stunned expression on her face. Crossing the café with Rory, Tasha said, ‘OK, tell me everything.’
‘We thought we’d come here to share your anniversary,’ said Joe.
‘And this?’ She indicated the hands.
‘It’s our coming-out day.’ Carmel was wearing the biggest grin. ‘We’re officially a couple.’
‘Finally! Hooray.’ Tasha hugged them both. ‘About time too!’
‘She’s a lucky girl,’ Joe agreed.
‘And you just decided last night!’
‘We did.’ Carmel turned to Joe. ‘Didn’t we?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Amazing,’ said Tasha.
‘Mind you,’ Joe added, ‘we’ve been sleeping together for months.’
‘What?’ Tasha stared at them both. ‘Are you kidding me?’
‘I kept asking her out, she kept turning me down.’ Joe winked. ‘As you know. For some reason she wasn’t sure she trusted me.’
‘I didn’t think it would work out,’ Carmel explained with a shrug. ‘He’s not my type.’
‘But in the end I wore her down. She couldn’t resist the lure of my body.’
‘Except I still didn’t want a relationship,’ Carmel rejoined.
‘So we settled for friends with benefits instead. Which suited us both,’ said Joe.
Tasha shook her head, marvelling at their subterfuge. ‘And you kept it a secret all this time?’
‘You had enough to worry about. Besides, I didn’t expect it to last,’ said Carmel. ‘I mean, it wasn’t a proper relationship. It was never meant to become one.’
Joe said, ‘Plus it was quite fun having it as a secret. Just between us. And of course I won her over in the end.’
‘With his legendary modesty and charm.’ Carmel was pretending to roll her eyes, but in reality she exuded happiness.
‘Not to mention my stupendous sexual technique.’
She gave him a nudge. ‘Yes, definitely best not to mention that.’
‘This is so brilliant.’ Sitting down next to Carmel, Tasha grinned at Joe and Rory across the table. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell us, but it’s made my day.’
‘It’s my cheapskate way of giving you a Christmas present that doesn’t need wrapping up,’ said Joe.
Carmel leaned against Tasha. ‘Shall I tell you what really did it? It was the way he looked after Rory in hospital and during the weeks after the op. He was just so lovely to him, it completely won me over. I realised what a good person he was. Kind. Patient. Nicer than I’d always thought.’
‘I’m going to have that carved on my gravestone,’ said Joe. ‘Here lies Joseph James. Nicer than you thought.’ He paused. ‘And great in bed too.’
The middle-aged waitress, arriving to take their order, pointed at Rory with her pencil and exclaimed, ‘Got it! I’ve just realised who you are!’ Rory looked up at her.
‘You think he’s Ryan Reynolds, don’t you?’ said Joe. ‘Sorry, he isn’t. But I am Brad Pitt.’
‘And I’m Angelina Jolie,’ said the waitress. She turned her attention back to Rory. ‘This time last year. There was a girl over by that bin out there . . . we were all watching her search through it and you went out with one of our bin liners to help her find whatever it was she was looking for.’
‘She’d lost her credit card,’ said Rory.
‘A gang of teenage boys on skateboards were giving her a hard time. You sent them packing. Then when she finally found the card, you made her wave to us over here in the café! And we all waved back!’
‘You did.’ Rory nodded. ‘I remember.’
‘And then you both headed off in separate directions and everyone in here went Aaaahhh because we wanted you to go off together, like in one of those lovely Christmassy films on the telly. But you didn’t,’ said the waitress. ‘We were so disappointed.’
‘Ah well, never mind,’ said Joe. ‘He managed to find himself a girlfriend in the end.’
‘Of course he did, handsome chap like him. And you look lovely too, dear.’ The waitress’s lit-up plastic antlers waggled as she nodded and beamed at Tasha.
‘Thanks.’ Tasha held up her left hand. ‘We’re engaged!’
‘I say, that’s a sparkler! Just goes to show, it was all for the best – you’re the one he was meant to be with after all.’
Tasha smiled, unoffended; her hair was far longer now than it had been a year ago. She was also blonder. Plus, the waitress had only ever seen her from a distance.
‘This one’s called Tasha,’ Rory told the waitress. ‘Ask me how we first met.’
‘Ooh, was it romantic? Go on, do tell.’ She gave him an encouraging nod. ‘I love stories like that.’
‘Well,’ said Rory, drawing out the moment, ‘it was Christmas Eve, Tasha was out doing some last-minute shopping and she lost her credit card in a litter bin . . .’
‘Oh my goodness!’ The woman’s mouth had formed a perfect oval of delight. ‘Really? It was you?’
‘It was me,’ Tasha agreed.
‘That’s why we call her Bin Girl,’ Joe added helpfully.
‘That’s why you call her Bin Girl.’ Carmel gave him a nudge. ‘The rest of us use her real name.’
‘Well I never, this is fantastic.’ The waitress was enthralled. ‘Oh, but frustrating too – I want to tell all the other people who were in here last year that the two of you did end up getting together, and I can’t because they’re not here. Well anyway, you’ve made my day. That’s just wonderful. No wonder you both look so happy.’ Her antlers bobbed as she beamed at them. ‘This must have been the best year of your lives.’
Tasha pressed her foot against Rory’s under the table. They smiled at each other. Aloud, she said, ‘Oh it definitely has.’
Chapter 54
‘OK, now push,’ ordered the older, slightly bossier midwife.
‘I don’t want to. It huuuuurts.’
Flo gasped and grabbed the bed rail as another great wave of pain squeezed her insides with a tightening iron grip.
‘Come on, nearly there now, you can do it.’ The younger midwife was stroking her arm, taking on the good-cop role and being encouraging.
‘I can’t, I can’t.�
� Flo shook her head as perspiration trickled down her temples into her ears. But she knew they were right. It might seem physically impossible, but somehow, in the next few minutes, she was going to have to give birth to a baby.
The older midwife was checking the monitors. ‘Here we go, here comes the next contraction. Let’s do it now.’
Gathering herself, willing herself on and clutching the younger midwife’s hand, Flo took a huge breath and embarked on the task of squeezing an actual human being out of her own body . . .
And then, in a sweaty blur of noise and lights and hands and pressure and unbelievable pain, it happened in a whoosh of slippery wetness and an outraged wail of just-born dismay.
‘Oh my God . . .’ Flo’s voice cracked as the older midwife cut the cord, gave the baby a brisk wipe with a towel and placed it on her chest. Tears sprang to her eyes and a great sob escaped her lungs, but she was laughing too, overwhelmed with the emotions she’d been warned would swamp her, but which she hadn’t been prepared for because how could you know they’d be this overwhelming?
‘Well done.’ The older midwife was smiling, no longer bossy. ‘You did it. You’ve got yourself a beautiful baby girl.’
And now Flo was crying and laughing in earnest, because the mixture of emotions was truly extraordinary, but the overriding one was joy. Several people had told her over the course of the past months that Zander would be with her in spirit when she gave birth to his child, but they’d just been trying to make her feel better. In reality she couldn’t feel his spirit. He would have loved to be here, but he wasn’t. She still missed him dreadfully, but she would cope alone without him. She wasn’t the first to find herself in this situation, nor would she be the last. But she had Zander’s baby and that was a miracle. In so many ways she’d been incredibly lucky.
And what was breathtaking was the resemblance to Zander. As they gazed intently at each other, Flo was struck by more and more similiarities . . . from the long, dark, spiky lashes to the shape of those cobalt-blue eyes, from the precise angle of the dark eyebrows to the curve of the upper lip.
‘Hello,’ Flo whispered, her mouth brushing the baby’s forehead as she held her close. ‘You’re my baby and I’m your mum.’ She breathed in the smell of her daughter’s newborn skin and examined her tiny, almost translucent fingers. ‘Look at you, you’re perfect.’
