by Lucy Clark
‘You’re our miracle girl,’ her mother had told Clara once. ‘As hard as this year has been, you weren’t taken from us, darling. That’s all I care about.’
Eventually Clara had been able to think about working again, and Arthur had found her this apartment. Her parents had been more than happy to have her move out knowing her big brother was just downstairs.
Now, as she sat at the table, Clara sipped the cool water and shoved her hands through her hair, surprised to find she’d been perspiring. Given she often repressed a lot of those old emotions about that traumatic time of her life, and after tonight’s emergency retrieval, was it any wonder her subconscious had burst open and given her the nightmare of the year?
Rising, Clara went to the cupboard where she stored her medical kit and took some paracetamol to help with the ache pounding in her head. No sooner had she swallowed them than she heard a soft knocking at her front door. Glancing down at her attire of comfortable pyjamas, and deciding she was decent enough for company, she opened the door.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi,’ Virgil responded, and when she stepped back to allow him entry, he came in.
Clara shut the door behind him and noticed he was looking around the room, taking in the decor of her apartment.
‘Nice place. Where’s Juzzy?’
‘Asleep on my bed.’ She frowned. ‘I think... Or she might be in her basket. Either way, it’s too early for that princess to be out of bed.’
Virgil smiled, but it didn’t last long as he studied her. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘OK.’
He glanced behind her, noticing the box of paracetamol and the half-drunk glass of water.
‘Really?’
Without another word, he covered the distance between them and gathered her into his arms as though needing to share her pain.
‘Is the headache bad?’
‘It’s just a mild one.’
‘Liar.’
Her answer was to shrug one shoulder.
‘Tonight’s accident brought all your memories back, didn’t it?’ he asked softly. He eased back and looked deeply into her eyes before scanning her face. ‘Have you had a nightmare?’
Clara nodded.
‘Then why do you put yourself through doing retrievals if it brings back horrible memories?’
‘Because I remember the people who were there when I was being cut out of the car.’
‘You were cut out of the car!’
She nodded. ‘A reckless drunk driver smashed into me. My car rolled, smashing its way through the streets, collecting a lamp-post and a few other cars on its way. I was trapped for seven hours, and during that time those people in the retrieval team were my lifeline. There were so many times when I really couldn’t be bothered to fight. I wanted to die, Virgil.’
‘Don’t say that,’ he implored.
‘It’s true.’ She looked down at where his hand was still on top of hers, his fingers intertwined with her own. ‘The accident happened two weeks after you left. When the hospital grapevine was working overtime with gossip about the way you’d left me—’
‘Clara, I’m sorry.’
‘I was crying non-stop, highly emotional, trying not to snap at the people around me and just wanting to finish my contract at the hospital and to be anywhere except where I was.’
Clara stopped, tears instantly springing to her eyes.
‘I wanted to die that night, Virgil. I wanted it all to be over and done with. No more pain. No more problems. No more gossip. No more having to live my life without you.’
‘Don’t—just don’t.’
She could hear the distraught sound of his voice but she continued. ‘My body was as broken as my heart, and in a twisted, strange way it made me feel better. A lot of people can’t see a broken heart, and I was able to hide mine—to lock it away while I focused on healing my body, going through surgery and then rehabilitation.’
Tears were slowly rolling down Clara’s cheeks as she spoke, and when she’d finished Virgil gently wiped them away.
Leaning over, he claimed her lips, the touch tender and gentle. ‘I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m so sorry, Clara. If I had a time machine and could go back and slap some sense into my younger self, then I would. I would do that in a heartbeat. But I can’t.’
He sniffed.
‘All we can do now is to take what we’ve managed to salvage from the past and think of the fantastic things we’ve been sharing these past few weeks. We need to move forward with our lives.’
As he spoke Virgil started to yawn, and although he tried to hide it, it was to no avail.
‘We need sleep.’ Clara stood, but kept holding his hand. ‘Come on.’
‘Clara, if you’re feeling amorous,’ he stated as she led him towards the bedroom, switching off the lights as she went, ‘you’ve chosen a terrible time, because I am exhausted.’
‘Shh. I’m too tired and so are you. Just hold me, Virgil,’ she whispered as the darkness of the room settled over them. ‘Like you used to. Safe and secure. That’s what I need tonight.’
‘Your wish is my command,’ he told her.
Clara climbed beneath the covers and waited for Virgil to join her. He kept his trousers on and she was grateful. He really did understand that, for tonight, all she needed was his arms, comforting and holding her. Washing away the past and the nightmares that lived there.
Snuggling deeper under the covers, Clara closed her eyes. Felt the warmth of Virgil’s chest beneath her ear as she rested her head there, listening to his heart beating with its regular healthy rhythm.
This was where she truly belonged. This was where nothing bad could ever touch her. With Virgil at her side, Clara felt as though she could conquer the world.
But could she conquer the world if Virgil really knew all about her—warts and all?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CLARA STIRRED LAZILY, slowly waking from the best sleep she could ever remember having. As she lay there with her eyes shut, trying to remember what day of the week it was, memories of the previous night came flooding back. The stress of the difficult retrieval, the nightmare as she’d relived her own accident, the way Virgil had comforted and supported her.
The last memory made her smile and she reached out a hand to the pillow beside her, expecting to touch his face or feel his body beside hers, but he wasn’t there. Opening her eyes, she raised herself up onto her elbows. Whilst the covers were a little crumpled, and whilst she could most definitely smell his enticing scent on the sheets next to her, there was no sign of Virgil.
It was then she glanced at the clock and nearly levitated off the mattress.
‘Half past twelve!’
She had a busy Monday morning clinic to attend to!
Clara threw back the covers and scrambled out. ‘Virgil?’ she called as she softly padded out to the kitchen. No answer. ‘Virgil?’ she called again, a little louder this time. Still no reply.
A quick tour of her apartment confirmed that Virgil wasn’t anywhere to be found.
She checked her phone to see if he’d left her a message, and sure enough there was one text. It simply said:
You deserve a sleep-in. Your patients have been taken care of, so rest. Talk soon.
There were no little kisses, no emojis attached to the message. At the thought of Virgil sending her a message with emojis attached she grinned, because he really wasn’t an emoji type of guy.
She quickly called the clinic, wondering if Jane had spent the better part of the morning cancelling her patients. When Jane answered, it was with a bright and easy air.
‘Jane. It’s Clara. I’m so sorry I didn’t turn up this morning, but with the retrieval last night and—’
‘Don’t sweat it,’ Jane remarked. ‘Between Virgil a
nd Arthur, all your patients have been seen. Mrs Holden was especially pleased to see the dashing Dr Arterton. She called him a “dish”. Is that a compliment?’
‘Virgil and Arthur saw my patients this morning?’
‘Yep. Virgil did the first few hours and Arthur’s just finishing off now.’
‘But Arthur’s supposed to be at the hospital!’
‘Maybelle’s covering for him there.’ Jane chuckled. ‘It’s OK, Clara. We’ve all got your back and...well—’ she giggled ‘—when Virgil gives you that smile and looks at you with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, how can you possibly say no!’
‘Gosh, I hope he didn’t use that trick on Arthur,’ Clara mumbled, still confused as to how Virgil had managed to get Arthur to agree.
She rang off and decided that as her afternoon clinic didn’t start for another hour, she could at least have some breakfast. As she made herself some coffee and patted her dog, she pondered Arthur’s reaction to Virgil’s request. When Clara had told her brother that she was seeing Virgil again, Arthur had been cautiously protective but not entirely surprised.
‘I’ve been watching him around the hospital this past month—watching how he is with his patients, with the staff—and I have to say he has changed from the egocentric man of the past.’
‘So you’re OK with me seeing him?’
‘Clara, you’re a grown woman. You can make your own decisions.’
‘But do you think it’s a mistake?’
Arthur had hugged her close. ‘Whether it is or not, I think you owe it to the two of you to find out.’ He’d paused, then asked, ‘Does he know about the accident?’
‘He knows.’
‘And about the extent of your injuries? That you can’t carry a child?’
‘Er...no.’
Arthur had let her go, but given her his best ‘brother knows best’ stare. ‘You need to tell him, Clara. If you are going to end up together, he deserves to know.’
‘I know, I know. I will—and soon.’
And yet as she finished her coffee and headed to her room to get dressed, she realised she still hadn’t had that conversation with Virgil. After this morning, when he’d come by and stayed with her, holding her, letting her sleep, and then organising to cover her clinic...
She clutched her hands to her chest and sighed. It was the most romantic thing he’d ever done for her. She knew she owed him the truth—that if they were going to have any future together he needed to be aware that she could never give him a child.
With the way he loved Rosie, plus the few times he’d raised the topic of children, she instinctively knew he wanted more—and she couldn’t give him any. Would that matter? Would he still want to be with her? He’d told her last night, before she’d left to come home, that he loved her. Why had he said that? All it had done was put more pressure on her. And whilst her exhausted heart had soared with happiness at the declaration, she’d also felt a band beginning to constrict around her heart.
The only way forward was to face the inevitable, and the sooner she did that, the sooner she would know where she stood.
She had to tell Virgil, and soon.
* * *
After her afternoon clinic had been completed, Clara headed over to the hospital for a debrief with the rest of the retrieval team from last night’s accident. Before the debriefing, Clara went to check on Dan and Gale, and was pleased to discover that they were both off the critical list. Throughout the debriefing she found it difficult to keep her concentration on what she and the other emergency officials were saying, given that Virgil was standing close by her.
‘You’ve got it bad,’ her brother whispered in her ear once the briefing was done.
Virgil was chatting with Geoff on the other side of the room and Clara was simply standing there, watching him. Arthur’s comments brought her back to reality. Several of the other staff members were heading out of the room, and soon it was just herself and Arthur, with Virgil and Geoff deep in discussion on the other side of the room.
‘What?’ She turned her back to Virgil and focused her attention on Arthur.
‘Virgil. You really are in love with him.’ It was a statement and Arthur shrugged a shoulder. ‘Happens to the best of us.’
‘You’ve changed your tune. You were telling me to be careful and—’
‘And I still am, but I have to say I was very intrigued earlier this morning, when I opened my front door, to find him standing there asking me to help him cover your clinic so you could rest.’ Arthur gave her a concerned look. ‘He mentioned you’d had bad dreams about your accident. Are you OK?’
‘Yeah. Often happens after car accident retrievals.’
‘I know.’ Arthur hugged her close for a moment. ‘And where Virgil is concerned, I have to say I’m impressed. He really does love you, Clara.’
‘Yeah?’
‘And he wants to marry you.’
‘Wait. What? How do you know?’
‘Because when I asked him what his intentions were towards you, that’s what he told me.’
Her eyes widened. ‘He did?’ Then her gaze turned worried. ‘You didn’t tell him about—?’
‘No. That’s your job. But whatever happens...’
He kissed her forehead, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken because she knew what he was talking about. He would always be there for her, no matter what.
‘Anyway, I’d best get back to work. Lots of paperwork to fill in and rosters to write. You still OK with your two shifts per month on a Saturday night?’
‘Sure am, bro.’
‘Good. That means you’re working this Saturday and I get the night off to spend with my family.’
With that, Arthur headed out of the room. Clara turned to gather up her reports, but when she turned back it was to find Virgil walking towards her, grinning.
‘Hi, there,’ he stated. ‘Did you have a nice sleep-in?’
‘I did. I sent you a text, conveying my thanks, but I’ll say it in person, too. Thank you for organising my clinic and my patients and people to help. I appreciate it.’
‘Your family love you...as do I.’
‘Virgil—’ She stopped and looked down at the floor, unsure what to do or say next, because every time he said that he loved her, she felt the most glorious warmth and happiness wash over her before the hefty weight of guilt settled on her shoulders.
‘Too soon? I can stop saying it.’
‘No—it’s not that. It’s—’ She glanced around the room, and although they were the last two people there she knew this wasn’t the place to tell him what she needed to say. ‘I need to talk to you.’
He was instantly concerned. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yeah. I just need to share some things with you.’
‘If you’re not ready, I don’t want to pry, Clara. You need to be ready.’
‘I am.’ She nodded for emphasis.
He smiled at her words and gazed into her eyes as though she’d just given him the moon. She hoped he still felt like that after he’d heard what she had to say.
‘Do you have time now, or are you expected home for dinner? I wouldn’t want you to miss putting Rosie to bed.’
‘I was going to check on my patients in the ward, then head home. You could join me? Help me put Rosie to bed?’
‘OK. Sounds good.’
His smile increased as he headed out of the room, leaving her clutching her reports to her chest and hoping against hope that she was doing the right thing.
Of course it was the right thing. If she was going to forge any sort of future with him, be able to put her trust in him once again, then she needed to address the past.
With a thread of determination running through her, Clara marched towards her future with her head held
high and a heart full of hope.
* * *
When Virgil pulled into his driveway, his spirits were soaring. There was a spring in his step as he collected his briefcase and the flowers he’d stopped to buy on the way home. Clara was coming over to tell him something important, and if things went as well as he hoped then perhaps tonight they’d be celebrating her accepting his proposal.
He wanted to be with her—he’d made no secret of that. He’d declared his intentions to her several times, even though he’d felt a hint of reticence on her part, but whatever that part was, seemed to have been removed and she was ready to talk to him. She was starting to trust him again. This was good.
No sooner had he entered the house than a sudden ear-splitting scream pierced right through his heart.
‘Rosie!’ He dropped the flowers and his briefcase on the floor and rushed up the stairs. ‘Rosie?’
There was no answer. Rosie knew that whenever he or Gwenda called her she must answer immediately. This time she did not respond.
Virgil hurried into her bedroom, his eyes scanning the floor. The bookshelves had fallen, trapping Rosie underneath. Virgil’s heart hammered in his throat as he quickly bent and began tossing books out of the way before he could successfully remove the wooden shelves.
‘Rosie?’
He heard Gwenda calling. ‘In here,’ he called back, and soon the housekeeper was by his side, helping to remove the debris.
‘My goodness! Rosie! I was bringing in the washing, then coming to get her ready for her bath, when I heard that crash.’
‘She must have climbed up on the shelves and overbalanced,’ he surmised as he was finally able to reach his daughter.
He stopped himself from instantly scooping her into his arms, even though that was exactly what he wanted to do. Instead he ran his hands gingerly over her bones, checking for breaks.
‘Her leg feels broken. Get my medical bag from the car and I’ll stabilise her before we move her.’
‘Do you want me to call an ambulance?’ Gwenda asked, wringing her hands in anguish.
‘I’ll be able to get her there faster. Just get my bag.’
