London Bound (A Heart of the City romance Book 3)

by C. J. Duggan

  ‘Thanks, Vera, I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  Vera smiled and her chest puffed out a little; her face was always red, but she seemed pink with happinesss. She looked behind her, down the hall, before she turned to me, lowering her voice.

  ‘We’ve a doctor’s appointment tomorrow at 2 p.m. and we might do a spot of shopping afterward,’ she said pointedly. Again, there were no obvious signs of collusion, but a notification of a window of opportunity. I was ever so grateful.

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Two, three hours?’

  I nodded; I wanted to say thank you but it would probably just make things feel weird.

  ‘Well, you better go,’ I said, breaking the silence.

  ‘Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll be here.’ I laughed, adjusting the stove and popping a lid on the potatoes.

  I wasn’t going anywhere. Well, not yet.

  I sat on my bed. Legs crossed, back straight. My hair was twisted in a thick white towel on the top of my head. My face was cleansed, toned and moisturised. I cracked my knuckles and set my fingers on the keyboard.

  Nothing.

  I had nothing.

  Don’t panic, Kate, just give yourself a minute.

  But as I stared at the still empty document, all I wanted to do was scream. I’d had a million ideas running through my mind today, where had they all gone? Maybe I needed to revisit the source of my inspiration. I yanked the towel from my hair, letting the damp tendrils fall over my shoulders as I padded to the bedroom door, listening at it, as I always did, before opening it. As I crept along the hall to the opposite door, I hoped that Nana had taken her hearing aid out before she fell asleep. Reaching the barrier in relative safety, I once again stilled, holding my breath and craning my neck to listen for any sound down below.

  Nothing.

  I bit my lip as I twisted the handle. I half-expected to find a broom cupboard behind the door, that the room I had found earlier in the day had all been a dream. But as I turned on the light and the darkened space twinkled in the crystal sparkle of the chandelier, my heart soared once more. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of Nana’s collection, and the impressive, organised layout – it was a fashion blogger’s dream, and I had direct access to it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that me being here was wrong; I knew if I wanted to use this as a backdrop for my vlogs and talking point for my blog I would have to ask Nana. But I knew the answer would be a resounding no, and that I could very well be kicked out for snooping in the first place. I had come in here hoping for some form of inspiration, but all it had managed to do was make me feel guilty, and more depressed than ever. I switched off the light and closed the door.

  Morality was so bloody overrated.

  I was all but ready to shut my computer down and curl up into bed, officially writing today off when my gaze landed on my handbag slung over the edge of the chair.

  The beer coasters!

  The slightly cider-soaked repository of today’s amazing ideas – surely I could gain something from them?

  Whipping open the red leather flap, I delved inside, rummaging past the TicTacs, lip gloss and phone charger. Bingo! I found one of them, though the ink had run and my notes were barely legible.

  ‘Shit.’ I sat down at the little desk near the window and upended my bag, its contents spilling out all over the surface. I instantly located the other two coasters, and even a lone earring I had been searching for for weeks, then saw something else within the detritus.

  ‘Surely not,’ I said, reaching over and picking up what appeared to be a rolled-up stash of money. I unravelled the notes, counting what I suspected would be the exact sum of money I had received from the rude idiot at the Stanhope Arms, the very same money I had put on Jack’s tab.

  My memory called up the image of him chasing after me to return my handbag. I shook my head.

  ‘Unbelievable.’

  It was strange thinking well of Jack Baker. It was easier to imagine him a typical lad. Sure, he had looked out for me on my disastrous day trip, but I couldn’t shake the need to be wary of him; there was something unnerving about that dimpled grin. Realising how close his terrace was to mine put me on edge as I stood on my balcony sipping tea the following morning, my eyes flicking to his balcony doors, torn between hoping he would appear and hoping he wouldn’t. Yesterday I had sworn off the terrace, locking the doors and vowing I would never set foot onto it again. I stood there, money fisted in my hand, ready to return it. I didn’t need the money … even if I did have my eye on a gorgeous Angel Jackson snakeskin clutch. I didn’t want to owe anyone anything and, though it had been gratifying to watch Jack bully the money from the smarmy suit, I didn’t want to be seen as the kind of person who would take it.

  His curtains were drawn and there was no sign of life. Guessing he was probably at work, I relaxed, taking a seat and finishing the rest of my tea. Then I froze.

  It was far too peaceful.

  It was past 8 a.m. and there hadn’t been so much as a sound; no thuds from Nana Joy’s walking stick, no shrieks of ‘Katherine Elizabeth’, nothing. Nana Joy was always awake before the sun was up, and her demands started the minute her eyes opened, with tea and breakfast, as if she’d never been fed before. I worried at the eerie silence, cursing myself at how distracted I had become. I launched out of my seat, my tea spilling as I dumped it on the small table next to me.

  ‘Nan?’ I called out, bounding down the stairs and swinging into the front parlour where she always chose to have her breakfast.

  But the room was empty.

  ‘Nana, where are you?’ I called out, hurrying to her bedroom. The door was open, the blankets ruffled, the bed empty. Oh God. I ran down to the kitchen, out to the back garden, praying that I would find her grumpy, hateful self, desperately wanting to be abused and see her eyes roll at me. But she was nowhere to be found, and my breathing was laboured as panic set in. My fear escalated as I ran various terrifying scenarios through my mind and I turned slowly from the back garden, walking a determined line through the kitchen and stilling in the hall.

  ‘Oh God, please, no.’ I stared at the front door, visions of her going on a solo journey and being skittled by a car, or abducted by someone out there in the big, bad world. Surely she hadn’t gone out, she was too frail to do so. That’s why she had Vera, that’s why she had me to do the things that were beyond her now. Great job I was doing at that, I thought, as hot tears pooled in my eyes and I ran toward the front door.

  ‘Nana Joy? Nana, where are you?’

  And just as I unlocked and ripped the door open, ready to search the streets of London for her, I heard a faint, pained sound from back in the house.

  ‘Kate, help!’

  Chapter Ten

  At first I thought I had imagined it, that my stressed mind was playing tricks on me. Nana never called me Kate. But when I heard the distant groan down the hall I knew I had heard right.

  ‘Nana?’ I yelled back, letting the front door slam closed. I ran back up the hall, narrowing in on the cries, until I saw Nana’s walking stick wedged against the doorframe of the downstairs bathroom. I instantly cursed myself for not having seen it earlier.

  ‘Katherine?’

  ‘I’m coming, Na—’ My words were knocked from my lungs as I twisted the handle and pushed, but the door would not open, even as I put my shoulder into it.

  ‘Nana, open the door!’ I called, pushing against the solid barrier.

  ‘Katherine, is that you?’ Her voice was weak, and she sounded confused.

  ‘Yes, Nana, it’s me, can you open the door?’ I placed my palms against the glossed wood, silently willing her to open it. After a long pause, Nana replied.

  ‘I fell.’ Her voice cracked.

  I tried to remain calm. ‘It’s going to be okay, I’ll get some help.’

  The cries from beyond broke my heart, despite their aggression.

  ‘No, no, you stupid girl, don’t you dare …
’ She yelled out in pain.

  ‘Nana, don’t move! Just stay still, help is on the way.’

  Adrenaline pushed me to the kitchen so fast I slid sideways and overshot the home phone. I jumped back, frantically scanning the list of emergency numbers.

  I called Vera, my panic ratcheting up when I heard her voicemail message.

  No, no, no, no, no …

  ‘Vera, it’s me, Kate, please call back as soon as you—’

  The message bank’s beep cut me off.

  ‘Shit, shit, shit!’

  With nothing else to be done and the sound of Nana’s cries haunting me, I dialled 999.

  I tried to remain calm but my brain was foggy as I muddled through the questions that were coming at me.

  ‘What’s your location, including the area or postcode?’

  ‘Exactly what has happened?’

  ‘What is the patient’s age, gender and medical history?’

  ‘Is your nan awake, conscious, breathing and is there any serious bleeding or chest pain? How did the fall happen?’

  The only piece of information I retained was that emergency services were on their way, and I clung to it.

  ‘Nana, it’s going to be all right – help is coming,’ I said for the hundredth time, thinking it was helping me more than it was her.

  ‘Get me out of here!’ she cried. I went to look out the window, then came back to kneel by the door, affixing my eye to the keyhole. I could see only two feet where she lay on the floor and my chin trembled at the sight.

  ‘It’s going to be okay, everything is going to be okay.’

  Hold it together, Kate, just like you always do. Remember Joy can hear fear in your voice, she’s usually the one who put it there. Except this time was different, this time I was genuinely frightened, and feeling guilty that maybe she had called me and I hadn’t heard, maybe she had gone to the bathroom unaided because I had neglected her. How was I ever going to explain to my mum that I had failed, that this was all my fault? How would I look Vera in the eye knowing that my own selfishness had hurt Nana? I wiped a tear from my cheek.

  ‘Nan? You okay in there?’

  I waited for the acidic retort of abuse but there was nothing. Only silence.

  ‘Nan?’ I called through the keyhole. ‘Nan, answer me.’ My voice broke as my fist pounded on the door.

  ‘NAN!’

  And just as I was readying myself to break down the door by any means necessary, I heard knocking at the front door.

  I scurried to stand, my tear-stained cheeks flushed as I ran to the front door, unlocking it and ripping it open.

  ‘Please, help, she’s …’ My words fell away; all the air was sucked out of my lungs as I saw Jack standing there.

  ‘Jack?’

  ‘Kate, listen, I just want to – what’s wrong?’

  I swallowed, breathless. ‘My nan, she’s fallen and I can’t get to her—’

  ‘Where’s your nan?’ Jack’s voice was calm as he stepped into the foyer, filling the space with his towering body.

  ‘She’s locked in the bathroom,’ I said, falling into step down the hall. ‘She’s stopped responding to me, I don’t know whether she’s conscious or—’

  ‘She is a cat’s mother!’ called Nana Joy in a clipped tone.

  Jack smiled, his concerned façade broken by hearing Nana’s voice. ‘Well, conscious enough to correct your grammar,’ he said, moving to the door. ‘What’s your nan’s name?’

  ‘Joy.’

  ‘Joy, my name is Jack Baker.’

  ‘Who?’ Nana’s voice was panicked once more.

  ‘Have you called 999?’ Jack asked me, his voice low.

  I nodded. ‘Emergency services are on their way.’

  Jack squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. ‘You might want to step back.’

  ‘Are you the police?’ called Nana.

  ‘No, not at all, just here with the brawn. I’m going to work on getting this door open so the medics can get to you, okay? You’ve had a bit of a nasty fall then?’

  ‘It’s my ankle, I-I think it’s broken.’

  ‘She never told me that,’ I whispered to Jack, who simply winked at me.

  ‘Well, Joy, there’s nothing wrong with my ankle so I’m going to put it to good use, all right, darling? You anywhere near the door?’

  ‘Ah, no – I’m near the bath.’

  ‘Okay, well, don’t stress. I’m going to give the door a good kick, all right?’

  Jack examined the door with the palms of his hands, testing the handle and looking at the structure.

  ‘Just hang tight, Joy, almost there.’ And with one swift kick, the bathroom door flew open, and there Nana Joy lay, her eyes wide, a trail of blood trickling down her cheek from where she had hit her head on the bath. I pushed past Jack, moving to her side.

  ‘Nana, I’m so sorry, are you all right?’

  ‘Of course not – look at me! I’m mortified!’ she said, straightening her negligee and peering up to see the towering figure of Jack. Her eyes followed him as he knelt before her.

  ‘Taken a bit of a tumble, young lady?’

  Something sparked in Nana’s eyes, something I had never seen before: a kind of warmth.

  ‘No thanks to this one.’ Her eyes darted to me briefly.

  ‘Now, Joy, if it wasn’t for this one we may never have met, so you be easy on Kate, eh?’

  Jack had a way of putting Nana back in her place that sounded almost charmingly flirtatious, which was probably why she didn’t bite back; rather, a small smile pinched her wrinkly, thin lips.

  ‘Jack lives next door to us, Nana, how funny’s that?’ I blurted out. I so desperately wanted her to smile at me just once to know that she wasn’t mad at me, or no more so than usual. But she looked at me quizzically, as if to see if I was telling lies.

  ‘So, Joy, if you ever need any sugar, let me know, but for now we’re going to clear a path so the medics can get a proper look at you, okay?’

  ‘You’re leaving?’ Joy went to move, anxious again.

  ‘Easy now, we’ll be right here, but we have to let the medics look at you. Can you do this for me, please, Joy?’

  Joy looked up into Jack’s face as he held her hand; she was in some kind of romantic trance and I couldn’t help but feel mortified by how she was behaving. She would do anything he told her to – and no one told Joy Ellingham what to do – and she settled back down like a good patient.

  Jack nodded, squeezing her hand. ‘Good girl,’ he said, turning to a man and a woman who stood at the doorway, waiting to come in.

  ‘All yours,’ he said, motioning for me to step out into the hall with him. As I watched them carry in their bags, I felt numb, like all that was surrounding me was white noise. I couldn’t stand watching Nana wince in pain as they examined her ankle, so I walked to the back of the hall, my arms wrapped around myself as if to protect me from a chill. And I was cold, cold to the bone, thinking about what had happened, and what could have happened, and try as I might, I couldn’t fight the tears as I let reality hit me. But what caused the tears to flow with even more force was the relief that she was okay, or would be soon.

  Jack’s tall frame came to stand beside me.

  ‘She’ll be all right, Kate.’ Jack’s voice was smooth, reassuring but, rather than stem the tide, I wept even harder.

  I really was the crying girl.

  Chapter Eleven

  I turned away from him, burying my face in my palms and wanting nothing more than for him to leave me alone. But that wasn’t going to happen. His hand gripped my arm as he turned me to him and, without saying a word, brought me to his chest and put his arms around me. It was the strangest thing. He was a relative stranger and yet I was instantly calmed. Engulfed in his warmth and so close I could feel his heart beat against my temple, I was soothed as he gently rubbed between my shoulder blades. I wondered if he was trained in this kind of comfort, because he was most excellent at it. I tried not to think about the way he sm
elt, or the fact that the solid foundation of chest I was pressed up against belonged to Jack. Yeah, this was inappropriate. I moved back, working to put a little space between us as I wiped at my face and looked into his ever-watchful eyes. He let his arms fall away from me.

  ‘You’re very good at what you do,’ I said, my voice croaky. I felt my cheeks flame, cringing at what I had said.

  ‘Breaking down doors or hugs?’

  Both, I thought. But I really didn’t want to admit to either, and I was grateful when someone behind us cleared their throat. I stepped further away from Jack and turned to the young male paramedic.

  ‘It’s only a sprain, but we’re going to take her in for observation because she’s hit her head.’

  ‘Oh God.’ The guilt was back; a mere moment in the presence of this man had allowed me to forget. He was a serious distraction.

  ‘Thanks, we’re coming in.’

  ‘Ah, and another woman has just arrived … short red hair?’

  ‘Vera,’ I said, rushing inside but pulling up at the sight of the stretcher that Nana Joy was strapped to. At the other end of the hall stood an equally concerned Vera, who, with great effort, slid sideways down the hall to reach me.

  ‘Oh, you poor girl, I came as soon as I got your message. What happened?’

  ‘I fell!’ Nana interrupted. ‘Lying there for hours, I was.’

  ‘Nana, I’m so sorry.’

  She ignored me, looking directly at Vera with fear in her eyes. ‘It was so cold on the tiles, Vera. So cold.’

  I felt so incredibly small; with Jack behind me, listening to the horror story Nana told, I was all but ready to book my ticket back home. At least Nana would have a better chance of survival with someone else looking after her.