by Lucy Parker
A worried-looking Amelia ended a call on her phone. “Lily, hi. Sorry, we’re running a bit behind. Magalie needs Luc to approve the final costume changes, but he never showed for their meeting, and now he’ll be out for the whole day, so we’re postponing last fittings until tomorrow.”
Lily set her bag down on the floor. “Luc’s not here? Is everything okay?”
By which she meant “Has he been hit by a car or bitten by a black mamba?” because she didn’t think even the phone-it-in directors took a day off this close to showtime unless they were in the Emergency Room.
She felt terrible for even silently semi-joking about the hospital when Amelia said, “Célie Verne has had a heart attack. Luc was on his way in today when he got a call from the ER.”
“Oh my God.” Lily’s breath caught. “Oh God, is she—”
“She’s alive, but that’s as much as I know. Luc didn’t really have time to talk. His father is in Edinburgh and trying to get a flight back, and his brother’s in Nottingham, so he’s dealing with it all himself. And, well, it’s Luc,” Amelia added ruefully. “He isn’t much for spilling his guts at the best of times.” She frowned. “I was going to head down there, offer some moral support, do a coffee run, but my nanny is leaving at three on the dot today. The rest of the staff are flat-out, and Margo has a photo shoot. I don’t think she would be prepared to risk the media circus if she went to the hospital, particularly without her husband. I doubt Luc would appreciate her turning up any—”
“I’ll go.” Lily didn’t even think about it. Her mind had been running in chaotic circles since the first day she’d walked into this building, but now her heart took over. “Which hospital?”
Amelia looked at her long and hard, and told her.
She took a black cab. Even outside of rush hour, the traffic was horrendous. It was after three o’clock by the time she reached the hospital in west London. She got out of the car and found herself in the middle of a throng of photographers.
Fuck. She hadn’t even thought. She should have used a side entrance. She wasn’t even wearing a bloody coat. No hood to pull up. In her driving need to get to Luc, there hadn’t been space to worry about—
It took an eighth of a second for someone to spot her. Cameras started snapping.
“Lily, are you here to see Luc?”
“Is Margo inside? Is it true that you got into a fi—”
“Any news on Célie’s condition? Is she expected to recover?”
“How’s Luc coping?”
“Is she dead?”
Ducking her head, Lily pushed past and went inside. She was followed to the lifts before a security guard advanced to ward them off. When the doors slid closed and the lift began to rise, she released a breath into the welcome silence.
It took her a few minutes to find the right nurse’s station on the fifth floor, the cardiothoracic unit.
“Célie Verne?” she asked the woman behind the desk, and was fixed with a basilisk stare.
“Press are restricted to ground-floor reception.”
“I’m family,” she said, without missing a beat. “She’s my aunt.”
The steady glare was becoming almost hypnotic. “Do you have ID?”
She started to think of an excuse, but changed her mind. “Yes.” She fumbled through her bag, found her wallet and showed the nurse her driver’s licence.
“This says Lamprey.”
“That’s right.” Lily didn’t blink. “My mother was a Verne.”
This was where she held her breath, crossed her fingers and prayed she wasn’t dealing with a music buff.
The nurse’s eyes narrowed to glittering slits. At last, she barked out, “She’s currently in surgery. When she comes out of theatre, she’ll be taken to the ICU.”
“And where is—”
“Round the corner, take a left, waiting room on the right.” The woman turned back to the computer, dismissing her as effectively as Jocasta had done, but without the bobbing plastic bird on her head to rob the moment of actual coldness.
“Thank you.” Lily stepped out of the way of an orderly pushing an elderly woman in a wheelchair. Walking rapidly down the corridor, she rounded the corner, took a left turn and came to a halt in the open door of the family waiting room. It was empty except for Luc, who sat in a chair by the window, leaning forward with his hands dangling loosely between his parted knees, his eyes unfocused. His face was grey and taut.
For the first time, Lily stopped and let her brain catch up with her instincts. She was almost knocked back by a rush of uncertainty. This was a family crisis, and a moment when Luc probably wanted to be alone, and what right did she think she had to—
His gaze switched to her face. He was so far away mentally that it took an agonising moment for him to register her presence. And then his eyes closed, and he was on his feet and striding towards her, and she was yanked into his arms.
She held him to her, wrapping one arm around his head as he buried his face in her neck. His breath was ragged and rapid against her skin. She felt the shudder that went through his solid chest and tightened her hug.
They stood like that for a long time.
Eventually, he tugged her back so he could look down into her face.
“I came as soon as I heard,” she said quietly. “It’s only just occurred to me that I might be in the way.”
His hand came up and cupped her cheek. “No.” It was all he needed to say.
“I’m so sorry, Luc.” His back was warm and hard against her arm. “Has your mum had problems with her heart before?”
“A bit of angina. But she eats pretty well, she still exercises. Takes care of herself.”
“Your father’s coming?”
“He was giving a drama lecture in Scotland last night, but he’s getting the next available flight back. He calls every twenty minutes or so. Not that there’s much to tell him.”
Acting on instinct again, Lily reached up and pressed her lips to the spot beneath his ear. “And Alex is in Nottingham?”
“Amelia?” Luc’s mouth quirked when she nodded. “He was, but he should be here any time now.”
“Good. I’m glad you’ll have support.”
He traced circles on the inside of her wrist with his fingertips. “So you’re just here for the bad coffee?”
“No, I just have a thing for the smells of soup and antiseptic.” She gave him a tiny smile. “Should I stay? You can say if you’d rather be by yourself, or alone with your brother.” She nudged him gently with their linked hands. “He probably gives better hugs than I do.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Luc said, deadpan. “However, one member of the family in surgery is already too many and I can’t speak for my actions if he kisses my neck.” He touched his forehead to hers. “Stay.”
She saw the flash of movement at the open door from the corner of her eye and caught a glimpse of the woman standing there with a huge camera in her hand. Then her old friend the admissions nurse herded the paparazzo out of the way with a sweep of her arm and a bark of “I said this area is for family and registered visitors only. Get outside before I call security. Get.”
Lily took back everything she had previously thought about the gem of a woman.
“Hell.” Luc looked as if he were coming out of a daze and falling into an even bigger nightmare. “Have the press got hold of this already?”
“As if you don’t have enough to worry about. It was probably inevitable that someone would recognise your mother, but it’s unforgiveable that they’re actually coming into the ICU.”
“And you. She saw you.” Luc released her. “I’ll get onto the solicitors, put a block on any photos—”
“Too late. I came in through ground-floor reception and caused quite a stir. There’s probably a frame-by-frame record of my bolt through the lobby by now.”
He turned sharply. “You came in through the front?”
“I was in a hurry.” There would be repercussions in the distant fog th
at was tomorrow. Right now, she couldn’t think beyond this room.
“You were in a hurry.” He was still looking at her, his expression inscrutable. “To get to me.”
Lily twisted her hands together. “Yes.”
“I think we just issued a press release confirming that our relationship is not strictly professional.”
She took a deep breath. “Probably.”
He shook his head slightly. His eyes were intent. “Are you okay?”
“It’s not my mother in the hospital. I think I should be asking you that.”
“You were fairly vocal about avoiding this exact situation.”
She ignored the twist of unease in her stomach. “Your mother had a heart attack. Kind of seemed more important.”
He started to say something else, but Alex arrived then, looking harried and wild-eyed.
“What happened? How is she?” he asked before he was even through the doorway.
Luc dragged his eyes away from Lily’s face, tension in every line of his body. “She’s still in surgery. No word yet.”
“It was a heart attack?” Alex pulled open the buttons of his overcoat with one hand. He was restless and edgy, pacing back and forth. “Where was she?”
“It was a heart attack. She was at home. Their cleaner called the ambulance and did some sort of emergency first aid, and we owe her a phone call and a massive increase in salary.”
“Well, who’s looking after her? Where’s the doctor?”
“Hopefully in the operating theatre.” Luc kept his voice level, until Alex’s agitated gaze stopped darting about the room and focused on him. Categorically, he said, “Mum’s tough. She’s a fighter. She’ll be fine.”
“She’s seventy.” Alex shoved one unsteady fist into his trouser pocket. “She’s not a young woman.”
“Do you want to tell her that or should I?” Luc asked, and Alex gave a lightning flash of a grin.
“As Célie would say, she didn’t raise a couple of imbeciles. I’d end up in the bed next to her, in traction.” He seemed to notice Lily for the first time. “Lily. Hello.”
“Hi. I’m sorry that you had such a bad end to your trip.”
“You’re not kidding,” Alex said fervently. “I’m just glad it wasn’t last month, when I was in the States. Even two and a half hours in the car seemed like a lifetime.” He looked a bit surprised. “It was good of you to come. No rehearsal today?”
“I’m done for the day.” She hesitated. “I would have come anyway.”
“On a personal level,” Luc said, “I appreciate that. As your director, I feel I ought to condemn your priorities.”
She turned quickly, but the expression in his eyes was the opposite of censure. She swallowed, recalling that his brother was three feet away and watching them critically, and that they probably wanted to speak privately. “I’m going to find some hot drinks. Any requests?”
“Anything with enough caffeine to wire the control board at NASA.” Alex pulled off his coat. “Thank you.”
“Got it.” She tilted her head enquiringly at Luc.
“Coffee would be good,” he said softly. “Thanks.”
She went to the café on the second floor and waited for ten minutes before ordering, to give them some space. When she came back with a tray of triple-shot espressos and a bag of muffins, they were sitting at opposite ends of the small waiting room. They both looked stressed, but there was no obvious hostility, or any black eyes or bloody noses, so she assumed it was just habit to claim their own territory.
She passed out the coffees and offered the muffins.
“Maybe later.” Alex raised a smile. He held up the coffee cup. “Cheers.”
Lily wondered if she ought to take the third row of seats, under the window, to keep everything discreet and…geometrical, but set the cardboard tray and the paper bag down on the magazine table and sat down next to Luc.
He came out of his reverie and touched her knee. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“Any news?” she asked tentatively.
He shook his head.
“I’m sure she will be fine,” she said quietly, addressing them both, and Alex gripped his coffee so tightly that the cup bent.
“Of course she will.” His tone was brisk and unconvincing. “She’s a wily old bird.”
It was quiet in this part of the hospital, away from the general wards. There were none of the usual hospital sounds of machines beeping, room alerts buzzing, dinner trays rattling in trolleys. Nothing but the clock ticking and the occasional distant ring of the phone at the nurses’ station. Lily leaned her head back. She usually tried not to make too much skin-to-germ contact with furniture and reading material in hospital and doctors’ waiting rooms, but this was the ICU, so probably most of the thousands of people who had sat here over the years had been perfectly healthy.
Just cold and afraid.
Cameron rang a few minutes later and Luc took the call, standing in the corner of the room with his head bowed as he spoke steadily and reassuringly to his father.
Alex put down his cup and clasped his hands between his jiggling knees. “God, I hate waiting.” His breath was a hiss of sound. “Especially this kind of waiting.”
He was probably talking to himself, but she answered. “I know. I wish I could do something to help.”
There was a long pause before he asked, “How are you at poker?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re Jack Lamprey’s daughter, right?” He reached forward and picked up the box of playing cards on the table. “I’m guessing you probably know how to play poker.”
She acknowledged that with a resigned gesture. “I don’t often play, but yes. I do know my way around a pack of cards. I think I could recite the rules of cribbage at five.”
Alex raised his hand, balancing the box between two fingers. “Care to take pity and help me preserve my sanity?”
“What would we bet with?”
He reached into his pocket and produced a large bag of Skittles. “Conference swag.”
It was the most genuinely friendly look he’d given her yet. “Go on, then.” She got up and moved to a closer chair while he started dealing the cards.
Luc, still on the phone, looked over and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged in response.
When he ended the call, Alex asked without looking up from his hand, “Do you want me to deal you in?”
Luc sat down again and stretched out his legs, closing his eyes with a tired sigh. “No, I’m good. You two carry on.”
Lily was watching him when his eyes flickered open and met hers. He shook his head but smiled at her.
Later, when the windows had turned black and reflective, the artificial light in the room seemed stark and clinical, and she and Alex were on their fourth hand of poker, he got up and went for a walk. Before he left the room, he bent and pressed a kiss to her temple.
It was almost ten o’clock before a weary-looking surgeon came into the waiting room, still wearing scrubs under his white coat. The three of them were crashed out on the same row of chairs. Lily sat curled under Alex’s coat, her legs tucked beneath her and her head resting on Luc’s shoulder. He had his iPad on his lap and was flicking through work emails. His free hand played with her hair, twisting a lock around his finger. Alex’s arms were folded, his legs splayed, and his head tipped back at a ninety-degree angle.
“Célie Verne’s family?” the surgeon said from the door, and they all jerked upright. Luc and Alex got to their feet at once.
“Yes,” Luc said. He was totally expressionless, but Lily saw his fingers twitch, curling into a loose fist. “Is she—”
“How is she?” Alex asked quickly.
“It was a complicated procedure, but your mother came through it well. We removed the blockages and repaired the affected arteries using blood vessels from her thigh. There were a few—difficult moments,” the surgeon said obliquely, “but she’s stable now and resting comfortably.”
“And
she’s going to be all right?” Alex pressed.
“We expect her to make a full recovery.”
Lily got up and stood behind Luc. She touched his arm lightly, and he put it behind his back to grip her fingers. He offered his free hand to the doctor.
“Thank you.” His words were stilted with the intensity of his relief. “Can we see her?”
“Just for a few minutes, please. We’ll keep her under sedation until the morning, give her body a kick-start on healing, but she’ll be closely monitored throughout the night and you can speak to her in the morning.”
“We should stay, though?” Alex looked at Luc, but it was the surgeon who replied.
“It’s up to you, but I would suggest that you head home after you’ve seen her, get some rest and come back in the morning. It’s highly unlikely that there’ll be any change before then, and we’ll be keeping her in for at least a week, so it’s going to be a long haul. Obviously, we’ll be in touch immediately if any complications arise, but—everything is looking good and working well.”
“I’ll stay,” Luc said when they were alone. “You go home.” He looked at Lily and squeezed her fingers. “And you definitely go home. You must be exhausted. Alex will give you a lift.” It wasn’t a suggestion.
“Alex doesn’t have his car,” his brother said, and suddenly looked equally forceful. “Because he had a company car and a driver and only had to sit in the backseat, twiddling his thumbs. Meanwhile, you’ve been here for hours and were probably up working at some ungodly time. I’ll fulfil the role of family watchdog for once. You’re taking your leading lady home and getting some sleep. I’ll kip in the waiting room and see you back here in the morning.”
“Fuck off,” Luc said calmly. “I’m staying.”
“Oy. I have seniority. Arrived on the planet first, pulling rank now. Get lost. You look like shit. And what about Lily? Just going to shove her in a taxi at ten o’clock at night?”
“Lily,” she inserted, “is perfectly capable of calling her own taxi and getting herself home.”
Luc looked at her silently. He turned to his brother. “You’ll call me if there’s a problem.”
“I believe I do have your number, yes.” Alex smiled at Lily, who pulled free of Luc’s hold to put her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Thanks for humouring me with poker.”