Never Say Never (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 3)

by Melissa Hill

  It was such a pity, because on an evening like this one it would have been nice to throw open the apartment’s old sash windows and eat dinner while watching the world go by. Ben, like Robin loved to take advantage of the good weather – a result, she thought, of their Irish childhoods when a fine summer’s day was a rare event and treated as such.

  But she was wrong.

  “Robin, it’s little Kirsty – she’s had a bad attack and Sarah’s had to take her to the hospital.”

  “Oh no, not again. Poor thing, is she very bad?” Ben’s four-year-old niece Kirsty suffered from chronic asthma and this wasn’t the first time the little girl had been hospitalised.

  “Bad enough, according to Sarah. She forgot to use her inhaler again. They’ve put her on the nebuliser.”

  Robin shook her head. “She’s in St Vincent’s?”

  “Yeah, same as last time.”

  “OK, I’ll meet you there. Does Sarah need anything?” Ben’s poor sister would be up the walls.

  “Just some peace of mind,” Ben answered grimly. “But Brian’s away, so I left work early and promised Sarah I’d go back out to their place to pick up a couple of things. I’m on my way from there now, so I’ll see you soon, OK?”

  “OK, see you later.”

  Sarah and her husband Brian lived about an hour’s drive away from the city. Brian was obviously off on some business trip or another. Sarah had met her American husband while on a working holiday in New York one summer. She’d fallen so much in love with both him and his native country that she settled there for good, and the two had been living in New Jersey since Kirsty was born.

  The hospital was close by, so rather than risk the stifling heat of the subway, Robin decided to walk. Still with the choking dead air of the city, by the time she reached the hospital she was so short of breath she could only imagine how poor Kirsty was feeling.

  “Robin, thanks for coming – again,” Sarah said when Robin entered the ward, and she noticed that she had lost an awful lot of weight since she’d last seen her.

  “You know it’s no problem,” she said, giving Sarah a warm hug before turning to Kirsty, who looked frail and even tinier in the hospital bed. Although thankfully, Robin noticed, she was now off the nebuliser. She held one hand behind her back. “Hi, darling, look who followed me here to see you!”

  Kirsty grinned and her eyes lit up when Robin produced a small alligator beanie-bag. She had picked it up in a toy store on her way, and while she knew the fearsome-looking alligator probably wasn’t the best choice for a four-year-old girl, she was loath to get something stuffed or furry, fearful that it would exacerbate Kirsty’s asthma.

  “She’s much improved now, thank goodness,” Sarah said, motioning Robin towards a chair alongside Kirsty’s bed. “But on the way here in the car…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

  “It’s been so humid today,” Robin said softly, fearful that Sarah was blaming herself. Sarah always blamed herself, feeling somehow responsible for failing to teach Kirsty the dangers of forgetting to use her inhaler. “I’ve had trouble taking breaths myself, so I can only imagine what it’s been like for her.”

  “It’s just been getting worse and worse since she started school,” Sarah said quietly, “and I think she’s too embarrassed to use her inhaler. But on days like today, when the air is full of pollen … I don’t know …” She patted her daughter’s forehead using a damp cloth. “Honey, we spoke before about always using your inhaler when you start wheezing, didn’t we?”

  The little girl nodded, her breathing now steady but her eyes tired and fearful.

  “It’s hard for her to get used to having to do it in front of everyone, I suppose,” Robin said, reaching across and stroking Kirsty’s little hand. “She probably hates drawing attention to herself. I was the same when I was younger.” She smiled, remembering how her own mother had been equally as protective and worried about her peanut allergy. “And of course kids will be kids, and at school they can talk you into doing anything …” She smiled again, this time at Kirsty. “She’s a good girl though – she’ll remember next time, won’t you, pet?”

  Kirsty nodded, hugged her none-too-cute new alligator toy and grinned at Robin. She adored her and Ben, and Robin decided that they really should make a bit more of an effort to visit Brian and Sarah out in New Jersey. She felt guilty that lately the only time they saw Kirsty was when she was ill. But because they both worked long hours, Robin as a financial controller for a company in the financial district, and Ben for a graphic-design firm on Lexington Avenue, they tended to just chill out at weekends and go for dinner or a movie.

  Lately, Ben was taking on some additional freelance work at weekends, in the hope that they could move out of Manhattan and get a place in the suburbs.

  “It’s either that, or move back home,” he had said one evening over a pizza, and the wineglass Robin was holding had almost cracked in her hand.

  “Back home – to Dublin, you mean?” she had said, her heart in her mouth as she waited for him to clarify. She had no intention of moving back to Dublin – not now, not ever. She loved her life in New York. She fitted in here, she belonged here, and up until then she had thought Ben felt the same way.

  “It would be brilliant, wouldn’t it?” Ben said, his dark eyes shining. “A complete change of lifestyle, something slow and easier than all this mad rushing around.”

  Robin felt exasperated. What was it about the Irish abroad that made them see ‘the old country’ through rose-tinted glasses? It was as though Dublin had never moved into the twenty-first century and everyone was still working at a snail’s pace and travelling along boreens on horses and carts. Robin spoke to Leah on a regular basis, and from what she could make out, Dublin was now equally if not more manic than Manhattan. Everything was notoriously expensive, and they had introduced some kind of mad tram service, which meant that neither man nor motor could get around the city without sitting in painfully slow traffic. Robin had read on the Irish Independent website only the other day that an ill-fated underground metro service had run into some kind of trouble with planning, and would be delayed for another few years.

  “But what would you do?” Robin asked, wondering if Ben was being serious or if it was just wishful but harmless thinking. “I mean, would you seriously contemplate giving up your job – after working so hard to get where you are?” Ben held a management position at his firm.

  “Work isn’t everything,” he said meaningfully, and Robin knew he was again hinting at the ‘why don’t we start a family’ conversation.

  “Ben …” she began, but luckily the waitress arrived with their pizza and the moment passed.

  Now, as Robin studied Sarah’s tired and anxious expression while she softly stroked her daughter’s hand, she wondered how anyone could do it. So much worry, so much anguish – what was it that made people want to put themselves through all that? She adored Kirsty – in fact Robin adored most children and, funnily enough, they seemed drawn to her in return – but she knew in her heart and soul that she herself would not make a good mother. She just didn’t have it in her.

  “How’s she doing?” The arrival of the paediatrician interrupted Robin’s thoughts and she moved away from Kirsty’s bed to give the doctor some room. He scanned the little girl’s medical chart. “This has been her third visit in five months, Mrs Freyne,” he said. “Why hasn’t she been using her inhaler?”

  The implied accusation was obvious to Robin and indeed Sarah, who looked ashamed. How was that fair? Robin thought, annoyed. Surely it was impossible to teach a child as young as Kirsty the importance of measuring her breathing and using her inhaler. She was barely a toddler, for goodness’ sake. And Robin could safely assume that Sarah didn’t enjoy having to rush her child to a hospital an hour away, or paying the healthy bills for the use of the ventilator. The way the doctor was behaving, it was as though Sarah or indeed Kirsty, were being purposefully neglectful.

  She had a good mind to a
sk him when was the last time he was solely responsible for a delicate child twenty-four hours a day, and how did he cope when the child was out of his sight? Patronising doctors – Robin had come across enough of them back home when she was a child, and they were all the same.

  She made a mental note there and then to give Ben’s sister more of a hand with looking after Kirsty. The very least she and Ben could do was to baby-sit the odd weekend and give Sarah and Brian some time to themselves. It would do them, and indeed Kirsty, some good to let someone else share the burden.

  Yes, Robin thought – seeing Kirsty’s expression light up as Ben entered the room – that is exactly what they would do. Although hopefully, she thought then, Ben wouldn’t get the wrong idea and start thinking it was some kind of sign that she was ready for motherhood. Well, if he got that idea, she would have to nip it firmly in the bud. Robin was certain she wouldn’t be ready for anything like that for a long time yet.

  If ever.

  6

  When five thirty came and went and there was still no sign of Leah, Olivia wasn’t unduly concerned. Her friend was a dreadful timekeeper and it was likely that she’d popped back to check her messages at the office, or Olivia thought smiling, maybe she was wearing a crucifying pair of high heels, which were undoubtedly gorgeous to look at, but by nature of their height prevented the wearer from walking at any great speed. Olivia couldn’t understand her friend’s obsession with her height. Petite and just over five foot tall, Leah never went out in anything less than a four-inch heel, while Olivia never went out in heels full-stop. Looking good in high heels was the last thing you needed when you had to run around after a skittish four-year-old.

  Just then Olivia’s mobile beeped.

  “Where are you?” the message read.

  “Where? I’ve been here for the last half-hour,” Olivia replied. “U r late”

  “No, I’m here – waiting for you.”

  Olivia looked around. Admittedly the pub was busy, but it would’ve been impossible for the two of them to miss one another. She was sitting near the entrance and facing the door. Unless there was a side entrance she didn’t know about, she thought, craning her neck around – and Leah had come in that way. Still she could see no sign of her.

  “Can’t c u – where?” Olivia replied eventually.

  “Bar.”

  Olivia looked over and while there were plenty of people standing by the bar, none of them looked anything remotely like her friend, unless Leah had grown several inches and cut her hair since she’d seen her last. Confused, she sent another message. By now, her fingers hurt.

  “U r here? In Searson’s?”

  “Yes – can’t see u either, busy here. Meet u outside?”

  “OK.”

  Although Olivia was loath to give up her table, the only one that had been available, she dutifully went outside to wait for Leah. She stood casually against the wall of the popular Dublin pub, trying to assume a disinterested posture amongst the group of ostracized smokers gathered around the doorway. The door opened again, but it wasn’t Leah, rather a tall and dark-suited man – a businessman, Olivia deduced. The man glanced briefly at her, looked left and right and then he too leant against the wall. Where the hell was Leah? Olivia thought, now feeling a little concerned. She stole a quick glance at the man, who looked as though he might be waiting on someone too and was at that moment deftly keying his mobile phone. Then, her own phone beeped again.

  “Am waiting outside now – where r u?”

  Blast it. Olivia thought. She definitely had the wrong place, because wherever Leah was waiting, it definitely wasn’t here. She’d better just ring her, she thought, hitting the dial key. Thinking of it now, Olivia didn’t know why she hadn’t thought about doing that a long time before. Besides her snail-like speed, this was the main reason she hated texts – there was so much ambiguity.

  Someone wanting to speak to the other man must have had the same idea, because almost as soon as she dialled Leah’s number, his phone rang.

  “Hello?” Olivia heard him say and her blood ran cold when she realised that she could hear his voice not only alongside her, but in the earpiece of her phone.

  “I CAN’T UNDERSTAND IT,” she said, reddening, when the realisation of what was happening had dawned on both of them. “I was supposed to meet my friend – we were going to celebrate – she passed her driving test you see and –” She was aware that she was babbling but she couldn’t help it. How embarrassing! But the man in the suit was smiling – in fact, not just smiling but laughing, a big hearty laugh that would normally make Olivia smile too, only she was so mortified. And he was taking it all so well and without embarrassment that she warmed to him immediately.

  “I thought I was meeting my business partner,” he said. “I had just clinched a deal and we were supposed to be celebrating but, in my excitement over it all, I think I must have punched in the wrong number. My old phone was stolen and all my pre-programmed numbers are …” He trailed off, laughing again.

  “Oh!” Olivia exclaimed, understanding. “You sent a message to me by mistake and I automatically assumed it was my friend and …” She reddened again. “I’m sorry, I should have made sure but –”

  “No, I’m sorry,” said the man, his greyish blue eyes twinkling. “I would normally ring, but Frank had some kind of family do on today and I knew his wife wouldn’t appreciate the interruption, so I sent him a text. I should have known there was something up when he – or should I say you – suggested going for a drink.”

  “Oh dear.” Olivia now saw the funny side, and how easily they had both been confused.

  “I’m Matt Sheridan,” he said, extending a hand.

  “Olivia Gallagher,” she replied, taking in his open friendly face, and deciding that in a way he reminded her of Kate’s husband Michael, but was much better-looking.

  “Nice to meet you, Olivia although I think this will probably go down as one of the strangest making of acquaintance I’ve ever experienced.” He chuckled. “And here we both were, thinking we were out for a night of celebration.” He looked at her, and just then and for reasons she couldn’t quite fathom, Olivia almost hoped he would suggest they go inside for a drink anyway.

  But Matt obviously wasn’t thinking the same thing. “Oh, well. I suppose it’s a good thing after all,” he said, his mind elsewhere. “For once I’ll have a clear head when I take my son to Saturday morning football practice.”

  Olivia smiled. “Ellie, my daughter, plays football too – well, the four-year-old version anyway. She loves it.”

  “Adam’s four too, so I doubt he’s much better.” Matt replied. “But I think it’s good to get them into sport at a young age, isn’t it?”

  Olivia nodded, and unconsciously repositioned her bag on her shoulder as if to move away.

  “Can I give you a lift anywhere?” he asked. “Well, I should say, do you want to share a taxi? I left the car back at the office.”

  “No, it’s fine – I don’t live in the city, I’ll just nip home on the train,” she said, realising it would only be a short walk from here to Lansdowne Road station and a forty minute train ride back to Lakeview from there. “Well it was nice to meet you, Matt and sorry again for … well, for the confusion.”

  “You too,” he said with a friendly grin, before heading off down the road, and leaving Olivia feeling something akin to disappointment as she walked away in the opposite direction. So much for her girlie night out with Leah, and trying to forget significant anniversary dates.

  7

  A few days later, having just about got over her embarrassing ‘blind date’, and having received a right telling-off from her mother (despite the fact that she was thirty years old), Olivia received a phone call from Leah.

  “Have you seen this?” her friend cried in disbelief. “Please tell me you got one too.”

  Olivia laughed, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “Yes, it came in the post this morning.”

  “
I cannot believe she is doing this. I mean, she made enough fuss about being pregnant but Olivia, have you ever heard of anyone having a ‘Mum-to-Be party? Where does she get these ideas?”

  Olivia giggled. She had thought the very same thing upon opening the post and finding that she had been invited to their old college friend Amanda Clarke’s Mum-to-Be party. It seemed it wasn’t necessary for the guests to be expecting or mummies, but of course it helped. Andrew and Amanda had defied the critics (namely Kate) and had stayed together throughout university and beyond. They married the previous year, and in true Amanda-style she had gone all out with her wedding preparations for her Big Day. Now, it seemed another, even bigger day was imminent.

  “Well, you know Amanda, any excuse for a party.”

  “Any excuse to show off, you mean,” Leah said wryly. “And it’s not all that long ago since she went overboard at that wedding. Poor Andrew must be doing his nut with all this fuss. I must arrange to meet up with him and get him out of the house for a while.”

  “Ah, don’t be nasty.”

  “You think I’m bad – what will Kate say once she hears about this?”

  Leah and Kate were still great friends, and Kate was now also pregnant with her first child. Olivia could only imagine the nuggets of sarcasm she would come out with about Amanda’s latest attention-seeking exercise. The two girls still disliked one another intensely.

  “I spoke to her the other day and she’s still in shock after the fuss and pomp of the Clarke wedding, so goodness knows what she’ll make of this,” Leah said.

  Kate, who had been married herself in a small ceremony two years earlier, had spent the entire day open-mouthed in astonishment at the lavishness of Amanda and Andrew’s wedding. Leah had spent the day proclaiming that silver service and personalised dinner plates were all very well and good, but what was the point if you ‘couldn’t feel the love’?