‘Lily,’ he said again, more urgently. This was unusual for him to say anything twice with expression.
Jessica hurried up the stairs but she could already hear the wheezing. It was really loud. She didn’t need to be told. Lily was having an asthma attack. She was fighting for breath through lips that were already tinged with blue.
‘Chair,’ said Lucas.
Jessica knew immediately why he wanted a chair. He sat the pale and clammy child on the chair, facing the back, her arms leaning over to help open the airways. Jessica opened a window so that there was some fresh air coming in, at the same time, draping a blanket round Lily so that she would not get cold. The storm was abating, the thunder more distant.
Lily was unaware of who was there or what was happening.
‘Nebulizer and oxygen in the top cupboard,’ said Lucas. The equipment was there. He was a doctor. He would be prepared for anything happening to Lily at home. Jessica plugged in the compressor to a wall socket, quickly washed and dried her hands, put the mask over Lily’s nose and mouth and gave her a few whiffs of the life-saving oxygen. Lucas controlled the metered dosage of the nebulizer.
Lily breathed in the oxygen. The blue tinge went from her lips, her usual healthy pink returning.
‘Adrenaline. The smallest dose. There’s a hypodermic pack in the box.’
Jessica found the pack and broke the seal.
By now the terrible wheezing was easing and Lily’s breathing was becoming more normal. It was a moment of relief. Jessica did not realize how tense she had become till Lucas took her hand and squeezed it gently.
His hand was firm and warm, the skin smooth, the nails clipped as a surgeon’s hand would be. It felt reassuring. A man’s hand. A hand you could trust.
‘Well done,’ he said. ‘I wish all my nurses moved as fast as you do. Lily is going to be all right now. She’ll be back to sleep in no time.’
But Lily had decided to wake up and pleaded for another story before she went back to sleep. And there was no editing out pages. Lily knew her favourite books by heart.
‘Have the clouds stopped bumping into each other?’ she asked.
Lucas gave his daughter some water to drink. ‘No more bumping clouds,’ he said. ‘Shall I read you a story?’
‘This story has got some long words,’ said Lily dubiously.
‘I can do long words.’
Daniel was back in bed. His bedroom had its usual soft, low lighting. Jessica put on another CD of natural sounds, wind and rain, the sea and bird song. She knew it was soothing and therapeutic. She stroked back his hair, wishing he would respond to her in some way. He kept his eyes firmly shut as if she was not there.
‘Goodnight Daniel. Thank you for coming and telling us about Lily. That was the right thing to do. And you did it extremely well.’
TEN
Jessica was out in the garden, helping Lady Grace dead-head what was left of the roses after the storm. Her garden had been devastated but her ladyship had not been too dismayed. She had tossed away Fred and was using a stick.
‘It’s nature,’ she said. ‘But it will grow again. It always does. Next year. I’ll show you how to prune next week. There’s a skill, you know, with roses. You have to cut in exactly the right place.’
‘If I’m still here,’ said Jessica. She was not sure. It had been a good evening, talking to Lucas but her heart had steeled itself against more miracles.
‘You will continue to be employed here for your contract, Jess. I’ll make sure of that. I can see what you have achieved with the children. My son is an idiot if he doesn’t see it. And the children need your kind of guidance. Of course, I would have got better on my own, but still you have been a useful and pleasant companion.’
Jessica hid a smile. There was no point in arguing with Lady Grace. She lived in a world that had moved on.
A fresh breeze combed the garden. Lady Grace shivered and patted down her hair.
‘I’ll go and fetch you a cardigan,’ said Jessica. ‘Which one would you like?’
‘The royal-blue one, please. You’ll see it folded on a chair.’
Jessica sped indoors. There was certainly the cool scent of autumn in the air. She knew how hard it would be to go when her contract ended. She found the cardigan and hurried downstairs, out into the garden.
Her feet stopped in their tracks. Lady Grace was talking to a tall, blond haired man in casual jeans and leather jacket. He was looking at the house, taking in the graceful lines and big windows. Then he caught sight of Jessica, grinned and waved her over.
‘Hiya, Jessica babe. Long time no see. You’ve done well for yourself. Upton Hall, no less, what a grand house, almost a mansion. You’ll be setting your sights on the lord of the manor next. Always the one to grab at good opportunities,’ he added with a smirk. ‘You never miss a chance.’
Jessica’s mind slipped down several notches into despair. How could she have ever thought this man was wonderful? It was Fraser Burton. He was a jerk. A nasty, malicious jerk. He had his hand on Lady Grace’s arm, as if helping her, smoothing back his oddly long blond hair with his other hand.
‘What are you doing here?’ said Jessica coldly.
‘Lucas invited me yesterday. He said drop in anytime. So I thought I’d call by and see how you are. After all, we were very close once. And maybe we will be again. You never know. You have grown into a beautiful woman.’
He dropped his hand and started walking towards her, but Jessica side-stepped his path and went to join Lady Grace. She was furious that he had dared to come to Upton Hall, pretending that Lucas had invited him.
‘Surely you are married to the delectable brunette, Dr Amanda? I distinctly remember you introducing her to everyone as your fiancée.’
‘Well, it’s a sort of marriage,’ said Fraser with an easy laugh. ‘Didn’t last long. We are talking about parting, something amicable. And the first thing I shall do is give you a call, my sweet saucy Jessica. We could take up where we left off. I’d really like that.’ He turned to Lady Grace. ‘Jessica and I were very, very close once, intimately close, if you get what I mean.’
He was still handsome, but he had put on weight round the middle. Too many parties. The longish hair did not suit him.
‘I certainly don’t, young man,’ said Lady Grace briskly. ‘I do not believe for an instance that my son invited you to call here to see Jess. He knows that she has her hands full looking after me and there is no time for visitors.’
‘But he said that Jessica would love to see me. That she has been missing me, done nothing but talk about knowing me, and the fun we had together, since she arrived.’ Fraser’s eyes were feasting on every inch of her slim figure. Jessica wanted to scream, to run away, to hide somewhere that he could never find her.
‘We were almost engaged, you see,’ he went on, smoothly. ‘Although, Jessica is a scheming young hussy and has probably set her sights on richer prey by now. I saw his car at the hospital. That beauty didn’t cost peanuts.’
‘It is none of your business, young man, how much my son paid for his car. He deserves every penny he earns. I don’t believe a word of what you are saying about Jessica, and I suggest you leave. You are beginning to irritate me.’ Lady Grace changed which hand she was holding the stick and began walking firmly back to the house.
Jessica closed her eyes for a second, half expecting something to happen. She did not like the expression she had seen cross Fraser’s face. He was not used to being spoken to in that manner. He usually charmed every woman he met, whatever her age. Lady Grace could not be charmed.
‘Well, well, fancy that,’ he said, a flush rising on his cheeks. ‘I’m beginning to irritate you, am I? I could say the same about your ladyship. Where’s the famous Upton Hall hospitality? Don’t I get a cup of coffee, a glass of Irish whiskey, a twenty-minute romp in a warm bed? I wouldn’t say no to your bed, your ladyship, hip replacement or not, though of course a younger, slimmer body would be preferable. One without wrinkl
es or flabby bits.’
Jessica heard Lady Grace gasped at Fraser’s audacity. She turned to confront him, her own sharp tongue ready to flail him for his impudence. At that very same moment, Fraser put out his foot and sent the stick flying.
Jessica ran forward at the speed of light and caught Lady Grace in her arms, seconds before she was about to hit the ground. She staggered for a moment with the weight, but managed to regain her balance. Lady Grace clung to her, her chest heaving, all colour gone from her face. She was fluttering like an injured bird.
‘She’s had a hip replacement, you fool,’ Jessica shouted. ‘A fall could have dislocated it. Don’t you know anything? Get a chair for her.’
‘Get it yourself,’ said Fraser, kicking the stick further away. He got out his mobile phone and switched it on. ‘Amanda darling? Quick message. Don’t wait in for me. I shall be late. I have some unfinished business with an old flame of mine.’
His eyes were blazing. He turned to Jessica. ‘Let the old woman go. I want what is rightfully mine and should have been mine, years ago. But you were always such a prude. Such a prissy. Well, I’ve waited long enough and now I am going to take what belongs to me.’
He moved towards Jessica, obviously about to pin her arms to her sides. Jessica felt control slipping away from her. Fraser was big and he was strong. He was also very angry. The odds were against her being able to fight him off and keep Lady Grace from falling at the same time.
Thank goodness the children were at school, thought Jessica, as her spine went into a spasm with a flash of pain. Her old back injury. Her throat constricted in fear at the sight of the savagery in his face. He grabbed at her shoulder.
Fraser’s face was opaque with rage and desire. The weight of Lady Grace was tearing her shoulder ligaments. But Jessica hung onto the older woman.
A figure hurled from the house, a figure in a flowered overall, holding a wooden rolling pin. It was Mrs Harris. She went straight for Fraser and hit him firmly behind the knees, very hard.
He crumpled to the ground, groaning and swearing. He rolled over, clutching his knees in pain.
‘I’ve always wanted to do that,’ Mrs Harris said, breathing heavily. ‘I saw it on the telly. Some detective programme.’
‘Please help Lady Grace indoors,’ said Jessica, still holding up Lady Grace. ‘Sit her in the kitchen where it is warm and make her some tea. I’ll get rid of this nasty piece of work.’
‘Will you be all right, miss? Be careful. I’ll stay if you like. ‘
‘You look after Lady Grace. I’ll be fine now.’
Fraser was clambering up and stumbling towards his car. He was covered in mud from the night’s rain. He glared at Jessica as he fumbled for his car keys.
‘I’ll be back for you,’ he said, spitting out mud from his mouth.
‘Get out,’ said Jessica. ‘And don’t you ever dare come round this way again. We’ve got a record of all that, you kicking away Lady Grace’s stick and coming for me. You see we have a very elaborate security system here and you were standing right in the lens of one of the CCTV cameras. So it’s all recorded. The Medical Council might take a poor view of your behaviour.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘What’s that camera up there? The one pointing straight at you now.’
He didn’t look.
He started the car and drove away, very badly, driving over the grass and dragging a shrub out by its roots. He didn’t speak, he didn’t look back. He put his foot down on the accelerator and shot down the drive.
She could not believe he had gone.
Jessica was limp with pain and the weight of her disconnected thoughts. What was she going to say to Lady Grace? All the dreadful accusations that Fraser had made about her. She went into the kitchen reluctantly, wiping the perspiration from her face, longing for a drink. She went straight to the tap and poured herself some water.
Lady Grace and Mrs Harris were both sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea. The brandy bottle was out and Jessica could smell the fumes. Mrs Harris poured her a cup of tea and added a generous sluice of brandy.
‘It’s only cooking brandy,’ she said. ‘But you deserve it, my girl. A real young heroine. I saw him kick away Lady Grace’s stick. I was at an upstairs window, dusting. It took me a few minutes to get downstairs. Then I saw him attacking you. So I came out.’
‘Thank goodness you did,’ said Jessica, putting her head in her hands. ‘I couldn’t have managed much longer on my own.’
‘What a dreadful man,’ said Lady Grace. ‘However did you get involved with such a nasty person?’
‘He wasn’t always like that,’ said Jessica. ‘He can be quite charming. I was very young and blind, I suppose. But he was already engaged to this Dr Amanda, even when he was dating me.’
‘A two-timer. Seen a lot of that on the telly,’ said Mrs Harris, pushing the tea towards Jessica. ‘Drink that now. It’ll do you good.’
Lady Grace was looking much better. She had recovered her colour and was obviously not in pain. Jessica checked that she was unhurt from the fall. A dislocation would be a terrible set-back.
‘He said some terrible things about me,’ Jessica began. ‘I don’t know how to explain. None of it is true.’
Lady Grace stirred the last of her tea vigorously as if brewing some obnoxious potion. She had that gleam in her eye.
‘Load of rubbish,’ said Lady Grace, accepting a second cup of laced tea. ‘I don’t believe a word. It’s the ranting of an ambitious and untrustworthy man. He is envious of Lucas, who is his superior in every way, at the hospital and at home. He just takes it out on anyone he thinks is weaker than him.’
‘So you don’t believe him?’
‘Not a word. And he is mad with jealousy. He saw that you were happy here with us at Upton Hall and also, I might say, looking very attractive.’ Lady Grace paused as if she had something momentous to say. ‘I don’t think we should mention this incident to Lucas. He might react very badly. He might go storming off to London to create merry hell in medical circles. Not good for his own career. Not good for his patients and they always come first.’
Jessica nodded, understanding.
‘Thank you. I never want to see him again. The man is a menace. He cheated on me some time ago, humiliated me and made a fool of me in public.’
‘Hard to do,’ said Lady Grace.
‘I agree,’ said Mrs Harris. ‘Doctor Coleman would be furious. He might even call the police, etc. We don’t want that, people tramping about the garden, bringing in mud.’
‘I told him it was all recorded on CCTV,’ said Jessica. ‘That his every action was filmed and recorded.’
‘Very clever, my dear,’ said Lady Grace. ‘Perhaps we ought to get them installed. They might be useful. Well now, do you fancy a game of cards? Shall we play for money? Fifty pence?’
‘So the odds are going up? We played for twenty pence yesterday.’
‘It’s all that exercise.’
ELEVEN
It was a strange end to the day, trying to act normally, to maintain a happy atmosphere for when the children returned from school. Lady Grace was made of sturdy stuff and her only frailty was to have an after-lunch nap.
Jessica went for a run in the gardens. She needed the exercise to relax her muscles. She was still tense after the morning’s episode. It took a phone call from Lucas to wash away the last of the nasty taste.
‘Supper tonight at the Grand Hotel,’ he said. ‘I owe you, remember?’
Jessica was unable to believe that she was going to have that promised dinner with Lucas at the Grand Hotel, Brighton. It had been a joke, a wild wager about getting Lady Grace into a swimming pool.
‘Champagne, if you get her to do three strokes,’ he had said, confident that he would win.
But Lady Grace had managed three lengths. Not Olympic lengths, but private pool lengths. Pop singer lengths when the sexy Roxy was at home. It all counted.
Jessica could f
eel her heart fluttering at the thought of time alone with Lucas, time to talk, time to know each other. It was what she had always been wanting, longing for. She knew that now. But would he feel the same way?
Jessica combed through her wardrobe earlier that day. There was nothing at all suitable for the Grand Hotel. She had not brought glamorous clothes, only working gear. That ruined red silk dress had gone to a charity shop, unwashed and torn. They had probably put it in the rag bag. Maybe it was even now being trailed round some dusty refugee camp, used as dressing up play clothes for children who had nothing. She rather hoped it was.
She would have to wear clean jeans and a white shirt.
Lucas had said be ready to leave by eight o’clock. It seemed a bit late to eat but then his work was unpredictable. She heard him come in, the front door of Upton Hall slamming. He was racing up the stairs, two at a time, and knocked on her bedroom door. His arm came round the edge of the door but not the rest of him.
His fingers were dangling a glossy white carrier bag with a fancy logo on the front. ‘I’ve bought this for you, in case there was a wardrobe problem. It’s probably the wrong size. I was using my surgeon’s guess work measurements. We often have to make guesses in theatre. They are not always reliable.’
‘What is it?’
‘Something to help you forget that other red dress.’
‘A kind thought. Thank you, Lucas,’ said Jessica, taking the bag. ‘I’ve got plenty of safety pins.’
‘I’m off for a quick shower. See you downstairs in fifteen minutes.’
Jessica opened the bag. It was full of folds of pristine tissue paper. She would wear whatever he had bought, even if it was sack cloth and ashes, a carpet, a nurse’s uniform. He would have an unerring feeling for the right clothes for her, she felt sure. Lucas seemed to know what she would like and wouldn’t like.
She shook out the tissue paper and the dress fell over her arm in a cloud of diaphanous folds. It was the soft colour of raspberries, chiffon, with a silky petticoat lining. Stitched round the neckline were a hundred tiny roses made of the same material, cleverly folded and bunched, more stitched onto the narrow shoulder straps and edging around the low back. The length was not formal. It flowed down to mid-calf with an uneven hem that would swish around her legs as she walked.
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