Still Life (Still Life Series Book 1)

by Isobel Hart

  “It’ll be easier to do it sooner rather than later,” he assured me. “I’ve found it’s better to call it a day early, rather than allow a failed relationship to limp on.”

  “I’m afraid I’m a bit of a limper.” I popped the last piece of the scone in my mouth.

  “Well, don’t be this time. You were brave enough to finish it before the accident.” We both stood. He picked up our tray and returned it to the carousel. “Just tell him what happened,” he said, as he held the canteen door open and then followed me out to the lifts.

  “Just tell him.”

  “It can be easy if you let it be. He’s a big boy.” He reached to hold the lift door open while I stepped in.

  “Shouldn’t you be telling me to avoid breaking his heart, given how much of the rest of him has been damaged recently? Not that I think he’d even care. He’d have a replacement installed before the lift doors closed. Girlfriend, I mean, not heart.” I laughed, but the sound oozed with my bitterness.

  We rode the lift in silence, stepping out into the corridor together. “I’m just trying to think about your long-term well-being, as well as his. You seem so stressed. It can’t be good for you. Give yourself a break from all the responsibility.”

  I looked at him. “But that’s the problem. I am responsible – at least for him being in that bed,” I nodded my head towards the door to Edward’s room as we paused outside. “I was driving. I’ll always feel guilty he was hurt like that. At the end of the day, I crashed the car.”

  Elliott sighed. “I guess I’ll see you around.” He seemed reluctant to leave.

  “Yeah, I imagine I’ll be here a lot until he gets let out.” I leant my shoulder against the door to Edward’s room and pushed it open. “Oh, sorry,” I said quickly, as a man jumped up from the chair beside Edward’s bed. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can come back later.”

  Edward glanced at the man, then me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, awkward tension filling the room.

  “It’s fine. I was just leaving.” The stranger tightened the cord of his blue Star Wars dressing gown.

  “Oh, you’re a patient too?” The man nodded, then rushed past me with his head down. I turned to watch him leave, finding Elliott still framed in the doorway, a frown carving deep lines into his forehead, before the door closed on him. I turned back to Edward. “Who was that man?”

  Edward ignored my question. “Should I be jealous you were hanging out with one of my doctors?” he said, his mouth set into a thin line.

  The door opened again and prevented me from having to answer. I spun around, in case it was Elliott. It wasn’t. “Darling, you’re awake!” Brenda cried as she rushed to Edward’s bedside. Patrick followed on her heels.

  Relieved, I inched back towards the wall and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to ignore Edward’s looks in my direction.

  Chapter 4

  A week later I arrived at the hospital and the place was heaving. People spilled out into the car park, as medical staff tried to direct them into some sort of order. The first person I recognised was Elliott. “Still limping along?” he said. I knew it wasn’t a reference to my crutches and broken leg.

  “What’s going on?” I nodded towards the overflowing Reception.

  “Mass panic.”

  “Why? What have I missed?”

  “Don’t you listen to the news? They found a virus in the fog. A retrovirus. It’s integrated itself into our DNA . . . well, male DNA.”

  “God, really?” I looked around again. The place was full of men. “Is it harmful? Contagious?”

  “They don’t think so. It appears to be inactive, for now. Dormant in the cells of anyone who was exposed to the fog. I’m not sure everyone’s convinced though. A&E are full to bursting. I haven’t been home in thirty-six hours.”

  “Has anyone become ill?”

  “Not yet, not as far as I’ve heard. The great and the good say there’s nothing to worry about. I’m too busy to worry anyway.” He looked at me. “So, it’s been a while. What’s your news?”

  An awkward silence settled as I shuffled my feet, feeling my cheeks redden with what I could only imagine was shame at not having addressed my issues. “Nothing new.” I didn’t want to look up and face his disappointment, so I stared at my shoes whilst we waited for the lift to arrive. “Look, I know what you must think of me,” I said finally, as we stepped in together.

  “No, you don’t, Samantha. You don’t know what I think of you at all.”

  The doors opened on my floor, and I walked out into the long hallway, thinking to halt the conversation; Elliott followed, matching my pace. I thought he might say something more, but he hesitated as soon as we saw Edward in what looked like an intense discussion with the same man we’d seen in his room. The man with the Star Wars dressing gown. This time the man was fully dressed. Their heads were bent close together, their words spoken with some urgency from the sounds that drifted down the hallway towards us.

  “He’s out of bed already?” Elliott looked at me.

  “Yes, the last day or so.”

  We walked slowly towards them. The two men were so intent on their conversation they didn’t even look up. “That’s amazing. By the way, how does Edward know Mr Rawlings?”

  I glanced at Elliott, surprised by his question. He frowned, his attention fixed on them. He slowed his pace a little more and I matched him. I had no desire to reach Edward.

  Elliott looked at me, waiting for my answer.

  “That man? I have no idea.” I shrugged, looking at the two men. “I’d never seen him before the other day; the day we saw him in Edward’s room.” Elliott’s frown deepened.

  When we got to within twenty paces, Edward heard us and looked up. He glared when he saw who walked beside me. “Samantha,” he said, pulling me into his arms as soon as I moved within reach. “I missed you.” He pressed a kiss onto my lips, cupping my face with his hand. He’d never liked public displays of affection; his greeting was so uncharacteristic it caught me by surprise. Shocked, I did nothing to resist.

  Elliott had walked on by the time I managed to pull away. “You’re feeling better,” I said, flustered. I took a step back to put some much-needed distance between us. Edward grinned and exchanged a look with his friend. “We haven’t properly met.” I put out my hand.

  “Richard,” the man replied, smiling as he took it.

  “How do you guys know each other?”

  “We met in here,” Edward said.

  “Really? But I thought–”

  “Well, I need to be off.” Richard shook Edward’s hand before smiling at me. “It’s lovely to have met you. I’ll see you soon,” he said to Edward, who nodded.

  Edward prevented any more questions by pulling me back into his arms and kissing me again. “God, I missed you.”

  “Stop.” I tried to push him away, but he walked me backwards, my crutches dragging on the floor as they hung off my forearms, stopping when my back hit the wall. “Edward!”

  “I can’t wait to get home.” His breath warmed my cheek as he pressed himself against me, making sure I knew for certain what he was looking forward to.

  “I don’t think you’ll be well enough for any of that for a little while longer.” I laughed, to cover my discomfort, as I attempted to move away from him again. He grabbed hold of my hand, and led me back into his room.

  “I can’t keep my hands off you. You’re so beautiful.” He pulled me towards him and tried to kiss me a third time, hands running over me. One of my crutches fell off my forearm and clattered onto the ground.

  “Oh gosh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Brenda said with a laugh from the doorway.

  I bent down and picked up my crutch, hobbling away from Edward, trying to catch my breath and hopefully my wits. He followed, folding his arms around my waist, pinning me against his chest as his chin rested on my shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you feeling so much better, Edward.” Brenda laughed again,
looking delighted.

  I squirmed, but Edward held on tight. “I can’t wait to get out of here. The doctor said maybe today if I promised to be good.” He pressed against me again.

  “That’s wonderful, darling. And are you sure you and Samantha will be able to manage while she’s still on crutches? Do you need me to come and stay for a bit?” I shuddered at the prospect.

  “No. Thanks, Mum, really. Sam’s getting around okay. She barely even uses the crutches – except as support – and I’m more mobile than anyone expected me to be. I think we’ll be fine.”

  “Darling, please make sure you don’t overdo it.” She took a breath, but it turned into a sob. “To think I could have lost you,” she said, voice trembling. She rummaged inside her handbag to find a tissue and then dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

  “I’ll take good care of him,” I promised Brenda, “I’m happy to do it.” I hated the lying words as they poured out of me like sewage from an overflowing toilet. I knew in my heart, no matter how lovely he was being to me now, or whatever he did, I couldn’t forget what he’d already done to me . . . to us. So, as I listened to them plan the weeks ahead, I resolved to get him better, then get myself the hell out.

  ***

  Forced to wait for hours until they completed the discharge paperwork, it took even longer for his medication to be brought up from pharmacy, so by the time the nurse announced his antibiotics were missing I wanted to scream with frustration.

  “Do we really need them?” Edward groaned, as bored with waiting as me.

  “You’re at risk of infection until that wound is healed. I can’t allow you to leave the hospital unless you have them.”

  “Really, I think this is quite unnecessary–”

  “I’ll get them,” I said, keen to volunteer because it would allow me some much-needed space from Edward. His constant touching and stroking had left me on edge.

  Elliott materialised as the lift doors were about to close. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” He grinned, flashing me a dimple. “Are you going down?”

  “To the pharmacy, yes,” I said, unaccountably happy to see him. “Were you?” But he’d already stepped into the lift, moving far closer to me than social norms permitted. The hairs on my arms lifted in response. “Edward’s allowed home today.”

  “So soon? That’s amazing.”

  “I know. Everyone says that.” The lift doors slid open.

  He stepped out beside me, but grabbed my arm, halting me before I could move away. “Samantha.” His expression looked intense. “I know you barely know me–” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “–Just because he nearly died, it doesn’t excuse what he did. To you. You deserve better.”

  “I know. I haven’t forgotten. I just need to see him well again, it’s the guilt.”

  He nodded in understanding. “I get it. I do . . . But after?” His words hung between us. I shifted. “It’s fine,” he said, holding up a hand before I could speak. “Don’t say anything. You know where to find me.” He backed away, giving me another grin – one that showed off more dimple. Then he hesitated. “Just . . .” He looked uncertain. “. . . One more thing. If you notice anything . . . unusual . . . with Edward, I mean. Will you let me know?”

  I frowned, thinking everything about Edward seemed fairly unusual at the moment, wondering how I might pick out a single unusual event when there were so many to choose from. Instead of voicing my thoughts, I found myself nodding.

  He smiled a final time, and I noticed again how handsome he was. How tempting.

  But Edward still needed me after everything he’d been through. The accident I’d caused. The least I could do was see him back to full strength. Maybe then I’d think about what I really wanted.

  And what else might be possible, I thought, with a last look towards the retreating form of Dr Elliott Harvey.

  Chapter 5

  Three weeks later

  “I’ve been thinking,” Edward announced. I turned my unseeing gaze from the blur of the passing high street and focused on the man beside me. The bus was full, crowded. Heads tilted our way, listening.

  I flexed my newly liberated calf. It felt good, despite the forest of hair that adorned my lower limb and the obvious shrinkage of the muscle from lack of use. In another week or so I’d be able to drive again, and get back to my beloved kickboxing classes. Ironically, Edward, who had died – albeit briefly – had recovered even more quickly than me. Back to full strength, he’d bounded around the hospital earlier, greeting staff like old friends.

  “Hmm?” I replied, my gaze swinging back to watch the people on the pavements. Edward’s presence distracted me. He hadn’t needed to come with me today, but it was yet another example of how much more thoughtful he’d become since the accident.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t go back to work.”

  I swivelled my head around to stare at him. “Sorry?” I managed. “Where did that come from?” I ignored the interested looks from nearby passengers.

  “Well, it’s not like we need the money. We can easily get by on what I earn, and I know you hate your job. Why don’t you give the photography a proper go? What have you got to lose?”

  I stared at him in shock. “But you always insisted we needed to maintain our income level . . . that you didn’t want to support me.” Who was this considerate, caring man? Only a few weeks ago he’d argued against me dropping down to four days a week to spend a day attending a photography course.

  I pressed the button for our stop and stood as the bus slowed. “Samantha,” he called as I moved out as quickly as my stiff leg would allow, needing to get off, avoiding the stares of the other passengers as I used my crutches to clear a path. I ignored him, forging through the crowd, until I reached the front and hopped down onto the pavement. “Samantha,” Edward called again, a moment or two behind me. I ignored him again, setting off towards the apartment.

  He caught me easily, pulling my arm until I stopped and turned towards him. Behind us, the passengers watched, enjoying our display, making me grateful when the bus moved off and gave us some privacy.

  “What?”

  “What was that? Why are you not talking to me?” He sounded confused.

  “I am talking to you. Just not about this. Not right now.”

  “Why not? It’s a good idea. When we’re married–”

  “Stop! Who said anything about marriage?”

  “Samantha . . .” His use of my full name in that long-suffering tone, the one that always implied he thought I was being stupid, irritated me. What right did he have to sound exasperated when it was him who kept saying and doing things entirely out of character? “You know it’s inevitable.” He tried to pull me into a kiss, but I held myself away, tense and unyielding.

  “Stop it.” I pushed against his chest. “Stop trying to distract me. You keep doing this.”

  “I want to be close to you. I like being close to you.”

  “You just want to get your end away, and I’m the closest thing on hand.”

  “I can’t help it if you turn me on.” He grinned, his expression boyish.

  Handsome, I found myself thinking. I caught my breath as the pain of his betrayal hit me again. “Everything turns you on at the moment. You’re horny. I could be a blow-up doll for all you care.”

  “Not true. I want to be close to you. I miss being intimate with you. It’s been too long.”

  “Because you nearly died. You had major abdominal surgery.”

  “I’m better now.”

  “So you say. Excuse me if I listen to the doctors’ opinion, rather than yours.”

  “Well, he said it’s all systems go, and now you’ve had your cast off. So . . .”

  His willingness to wait until my cast had been removed, to put my needs before his own, had been yet another unexpected and oddly touching gesture. It meant today signalled the end of my last good excuse. I still didn’t feel ready for anything like that. I didn’t think I ever would again. I foun
d it hard to imagine a time I wouldn’t have the mental image of Edward and Serena together whenever I thought about having sex with him.

  “When we’re married–”

  “Stop saying that!” Despite some better moments between us over the last few weeks, I had no idea where the sudden talk of marriage had come from. The prospect washed over me like a cold shower. I would not let myself fall for his sweet lies again. “Believe me, there is no chance of us getting married.” I pushed past him, running up the steps and into the apartment block as fast as my stiff leg would allow.

  “Why would you say that?” He sounded bewildered as he followed me into the building. “We’re perfect together. You’re beautiful, sexy, intelligent, kind, caring. What more could I want in a wife and the future mother of my children?”

  “I’m not having this conversation!” I rummaged inside my bag to find my keys, propping it up on my knee to get better access. It was too big and too full for me to locate them. Edward moved me gently aside and unlocked the door with his own set.

  “I’m able to provide for you, I’m fit and healthy – well, almost – and handsome, so I’m told.” He smiled.

  I snorted at that.

  “What?” He seemed surprised by my response.

  “Do you really want to have this conversation now?” I slammed my bag down on the sideboard just inside the front door, knocking over the carved wooden elephant, a gift from my mother after her safari trip.

  I’d avoided going near this whole subject for weeks, much to Heidi’s open disapproval. She’d told me, in no uncertain terms, that I needed to remove my ostrich-like head from the sand in which it was currently placed and face up to the elephant in the room. When I’d pointed out her overuse of animal metaphors, she’d raised a well-plucked eyebrow at me – as much as her recent Botox session would allow – and told me not to try and change the subject. That I was deluding myself if I thought Edward had really changed at all, telling me a leopard didn’t change its spots.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to have this conversation. It had been civilised between us since we’d been home, like the early days of our relationship. He’d been kind, attentive. Loving. I’d liked it. It seemed a shame to bring it all to a crashing end.