“I’m sorry.” Harry looked so very unhappy that Julia relented instantly and handed her a chocolate.
“It’s not your fault honey, and I know you’ve had a rotten day.”
“Men are rubbish.” Harry said unhappily, rubbing the tension in the back of her neck.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No it still hurts too much.” Harry pressed the play button and smiled gratefully at her friend when she opened another bottle of wine.
Chris ran so far that he felt sick, afterwards he showered until some of the aching and tension had dissipated, then restlessly he switched on the television and saw the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. There was a particularly appealing picture of her standing next to their chief executive, and another next to her family. He was relieved, but also slightly disappointed to see that he was not in any of the pictures. It made him feel as though their intimate and intense car journey had never happened, and he kept watching, wondering how he could miss someone he barely knew.
He learned that her mother had been a rebellious young woman, she had grown up with a dislike of her enormous estate and the trappings of her inheritance and birth right. There had been a family understanding that she would marry a wealthy neighbour, but in her early twenties she had travelled to a community in India. Harry had been born in this community, and her mother had appeared on a lot of talk shows and documentaries, talking about her rejection of property and wealth, and the way children didn’t need formal education or supervision from their parents.
Harry had been playing in a street with a group of older children when the accident happened. She had been jumping over a skipping rope, her nimble feet dancing through a complex pattern. The documentary relentlessly showed images of the distraught Lady Caroline. At first she had been photographed alone, and then clinging to the man from England who still loved her. The man who had married her, and quickly adopted her desperately ill little girl. Harry had been flown back to a hospital in London, and Chris felt sick when the film makers superimposed the last images of the little girl running through the plantations in India, and the fragile figure who was carried out of the wet institution for sick children by the man who loved her like a father.
He thought of the careful way she had constructed her life, surrounding herself with people who wouldn’t know or perhaps care about her painful and public past, and slowly he started to understand why she had reacted the way she had. He switched off the television and thought about going for another run. Nicola unlocked the door and he took a deep breath and wondered what to say to the woman who suddenly felt like a stranger. “Are you okay?” she asked, and he sat back down on the scruffy patterned sofa and shook his head. “Shall we talk about it?” she asked tentatively.
“We haven’t been very good at that recently.” He said quietly, feeling the bone aching loneliness that he remembered from his adolescence. The distraction of medical school, professional exams and the long sleepless nights as a junior doctor had allowed him to escape his sense of loss, but now that he was a consultant he had time to think, and it made him ache to settle down and try to rebuild all the things that had been torn from him.
Nicola sat down beside him and looked at him. “You’re right Chris, I’ve been rather stupid, and selfish. I just got used to having you all to myself.”
“But you don’t want me, not really.”
“I know, stupid and selfish.”
“I missed you.” he said simply, and she touched his hand.
“What happened honey?”
“I upset her again. I don’t want you to think that she’s oddly sensitive, because she’s not. It’s just that I like her so much that I keep saying really stupid things.”
“Why don’t you invite her round for dinner and I can help you.” He looked at her, tact warring with honesty. “You’re thinking about the party aren’t you?” she added finally. He nodded, normally Nicola made social situations much better, but drunkenly interrogating Harry seemed unlikely to improve things. “I’ll make you proud.” She said, and because he trusted her he smiled at her and agreed. He liked Julia, and he had enjoyed his brief meeting with Libby, he wanted Harry to know that he had good friends too.
Chapter six
Harry woke up early the next morning and made herself a strong coffee. She found her thoughts wandering back to Chris and then staying there. Chris opening wine in her kitchen, Chris chopping vegetables, and of course Chris kissing her in a way that made her feel unsteady. She tried to stay angry with him, but it was difficult, and she wondered briefly if she should have tried to explain to him why she was so upset. The problem was that walking was so very fundamental, and not walking was something that never really stopped hurting. She worried that if he didn't understand that, he wasn't the man for her. Now she just needed to stop liking him so much.
Julia let herself into the house and grimaced when Harry put a bowl of porridge in front of her. “It's a slow release food, you won't get hungry until lunch time.”
“I'm always hungry before lunchtime.”
“Then you should eat more porridge.”
“Why are you lecturing me?” Julia asked, she knew all her friend's coping strategies, and all her habits. Harry admitted to Julia that she had spent the evening hoping that Chris would come round to visit. “Honey you left him standing in the computing department with your odd chilly boss.”
“She's not so bad.” Harry said.
“Don't dodge the question, I know he upset you, but it sounds like you really froze him out.”
Harry finished her porridge and drank another cup of coffee. “I was also thinking about you and Mike.” she said finally.
“Mike only sees you.” Julia told her firmly.
“He works in an IT department, I'm probably the first girl he's spoken to and he's not very good at change.”
“You're a hard act to follow.” Julia said softly, as they climbed into her messy little car.
Harry was silent on the journey into work. She had tried so hard to create a little bubble where people didn't know who her mother was. She loved her role in the hospital and the comfortable camaraderie of the men she cared about, and she wondered if they would be able to forget her mother's imperious entrance. “You're still Harry.” Julia told her in the car park, “They'll remember that by the end of the day.” Harry smiled at her, remembering her tearful explanation to Julia in their first year of University. Julia had grown up in air force bases across Europe, and the complex hierarchy of the armed services had allowed her to accept a British title without too much discomfort.
The doors to the IT suite swung open in their usual grinding fashion, and Harry took a deep breath, and felt her apprehension mount. By the time her computer had started up, it had dissipated completely, and she was feeling bad about ever doubting the gentle band of misfits that she worked with. They had made her coffee, they had told her about their misadventures with computer games and blind dates, and they had all called her Harry. She answered the first call of the day and settled into a comfortable battle with a junior doctor who couldn't access his email account. She realised that she was still hoping that Chris would appear, but she pushed that thought into the back of her mind.
Belinda called her into her office at lunchtime and offered her a carrot stick. They both crunched in silence, until the older woman said awkwardly, “I've checked all the work policies, there is no clear guidance on how members of the nobility should be addressed in the work place.”
Harry finished her carrot stick and cleared her throat. “Can we carry on as before?” she asked quietly, “I like being called Harry.” Belinda looked at her in silence. She had watched a lot of the coverage of the fundraiser on the local news, and she wondered why anyone would choose to spend their days in a portacabin on the edge of a hospital when their parents lived in one of the biggest country houses she had ever seen.
“Okay then.” Belinda said finally, “Do you mind if I send you
a formal email record of this conversation? The management are likely to ask me.” Harry agreed and escaped back to her desk. She had been hoping that their night together stabilizing the blood results would make things easier with her manager, but it seemed that she would remain disappointed. She answered the phone again and was particularly chilly to a medical student who had forgotten her password.
Chris was waiting in the car park. Her stomach filled up with so many butterflies when she saw him that it was hard to think. “Hi.” he said softly, “I'm sorry about yesterday.”
“It's okay, I'm sorry I didn't thank you properly for bringing me back.” He smiled at her then, relief and anticipation forming a heady cocktail in his heart. He realised that he didn't care how many other men were interested, he just needed to let her know that he was the right man, and that he would look after her. If she would let him. “Do you want to come for dinner tonight? Both of you that is. My housemate is cooking, I know she can't hold her drink, but she's fantastic with spices.”
“We'd love to.” Julia said quickly, and Harry nodded her assent. He smiled down at her and she smiled back, she wanted to thank him for trying again, for not finding her disability an insurmountable challenge. But the butterflies were making it hard to think, and she looked up at his delicious kissable mouth and almost decided that she didn't mind if he wasn't very good at understanding her.
He gave them the address and loomed over her for a moment longer, then he strode out of the car park with the tough fluid grace that she found so hard to resist. “Do you think we should eat first?” Julia asked her, “I haven't got much faith in her after all that weirdness at my party.” “How can you think about food at a time like this?” Julia shrugged and manoeuvred her scruffy little vehicle out of the car park. Having considered the matter for much of the journey home, she made herself a particularly nice sandwich while Harry tried on most of her wardrobe.
They detoured through the park and took their time choosing a bottle of wine. The well-dressed man in the independent shop gave them their usual discount and interrogated them about their evening plans until Julia cut him off slightly abruptly and asked for directions. They found the right road and navigated the foliage of overgrown pathway. There were three large stairs leading up to the front door and Harry took a deep breath and smiled at her friend. “Shall we cut our losses and get a takeaway?”
Chris opened the door before she could reply, his smiled faded as the practicalities of the situation sank in, and he cursed himself for his thoughtlessness. “Would you like a hand?” he asked lightly, and she smiled at him.
"Thank you." she said, her dark eyes unreadable and he carried her into the hallway. Nicola was waiting, rehearsing the warm lines of apology that she had been planning to say in a spontaneous fashion. Her smile faded and she tried to mask her surprise. Chris took Harry into the big badly painted lounge. He had spent the early evening frantically tidying, and after a lot of deliberation, he had lit a large fire which had now overheated the room.
A generously built man looked at her with concern. “Are you hurt?” he asked in a gently Welsh accent.
"I'm fine,” she said as casually as she could, watching his face change as Julia appeared with her chair. “I can't walk, it happened a long time ago and I should be better about remembering the practicalities.”
Jeff recovered quickly, sensing her discomfort, and opened the wine Julia handed him. Chris helped her find her balance in her chair, and Jeff watched his friend's protective intensity with a smile. “Red or White?” he asked, when the beautiful woman made eye contact with him again.
“Red please,” she said gratefully.
“A large one?” She laughed, the animation illuminating her expressive face, in a way that made him catch his breath. He poured a glass for her and for himself and lost himself in her company until Chris rather pointedly interrupted him. He smiled apologetically at his friend and poured out a glass of wine for Julia.
Nicola watched Harry as unobtrusively as she could. She realised that her perceptions had completely changed, and wondered why Chris hadn't explained that she used a wheelchair. Then she felt bad all over again when she remembered spilling wine over her legs. While Jeff and Chris circulated with the wine, Harry leant forward and adjusted one of her shoes on her footrest. She looked up into Nicola's stare and smiled into her curious eyes. “How is your week going?” she asked easily, and Nicola was still talking when Chris called them through for dinner.
“Sorry Harry, I didn't think about this either.” Chris said wretchedly. He had wanted to show that he could look after her, and that he could make her feel safe and comfortable, but so far all he had done was repeatedly turn a spotlight on her disability.
“Can I use the chair at the head of the table?” Harry said, in the same easy tone she had used previously. “The arm rests will help me to balance.” He lifted her into the dining table, and heard her catch her breath slightly as she adjusted to her new position. Then she smiled at him again, as unconvincingly as before, and Nicola resumed her conversation while he was laying out the starters.
He did get to speak to her over the main course, telling about his day, the operations and the battle with a manager who didn't want him to admit a patient. Her questions were perceptive and he asked her if she had considered medicine, then looked wretched all over again when he remembered her chair. Her eyes slanted in the way he loved. “Goodness no, I never even considered it, your job is interesting, but I love computers.”
"So Harry do you have any hobbies?" Nicola asked, as they drank coffee in the lounge. Chris froze for a moment holding the milk jug he had found in a dusty cupboard. He was just getting the evening on track and he didn’t think ridiculous questions from Nicola were going to help. Harry looked at his friend in silence, her expression unreadable, and Chris desperately offered round the chocolates he had bought minutes before her arrival.
“We're in a band,” Julia said finally, “in fact we're playing tomorrow evening.” Of course they wanted to hear more, and Julia smiled apologetically at her friend and gave them the time and address.
He didn't want her to go home when the night ended. He stood in the moss on the scruffy path outside his house holding her in his arms and savouring the subtle notes of the scent she wore. “Thanks for a lovely evening.” she said, and reluctantly he placed her in her wheelchair and watched her disappear into the street with Julia close by her side.
“Why on earth didn't you tell us she was paralysed?” Jeff asked him. “You ended up embarrassing her repeatedly. That would be bad enough under any circumstances, but given that she's a beautiful and lovely woman that you so obviously like, it’s also really stupid.”
“Sorry, I'm just not sure how I feel about it.”
“What do you mean? She's in a wheelchair, it's not a lifestyle choice.”
“No I know that. It's just that she confident and funny and intelligent, and the paralysis thing doesn't really seem to impact on her.”
“Do you care about her Chris?”
“More than anyone before.” he said softly. “I miss her when I'm not with her, and I can't stop thinking about her.”
“Then why don't you start treating her better? No matter how confident she is, it can't be easy to have people reacting to her wheelchair every day. You should be able to understand that. If you want to have a relationship with her, start looking after her.”
Chris nodded, and sat down on the sofa. “You're right. Of course you are. I just thought if I told you it would affect your perception of her.”
“Chris it's not a character flaw. It just means that she needs people to be a bit more thoughtful around her.”
“How was she hurt?” Nicola asked quietly.
“Is that fair to ask?” Jeff said, annoyed with himself for his own curiosity.
“There was a documentary about her on television last week, so I don't think it's a secret.” Chris told them. He explained further when his friends stared at him
in blank incomprehension, describing her intimidating lineage, her mother's time in India, the bicycle accident, and the long lonely time in hospital in London.
“Have you discussed it with her?” Jeff asked, and Chris took a deep breath and explained her reticence, and the fundraiser, and then admitted his insensitivity. “The thing was that I was trying to protect her. She was so very tired, and all the men in her department had descended on her and I thought if I explained what happened then they would give her more space.” He ran his hand through his hair and sucked in a deep breath, “I’m an idiot, I know, and I can’t stop thinking about the look in her eyes when I first saw her chair.”
Jeff sat down next to him and touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I was hard on you. It’s just she has an intense effect on a person.”
Chris nodded, “I know it’s hard to understand, I haven’t been able to regain my equilibrium ever since I met her.”
“Very hard to understand,” Nicola said drily, “I can’t imagine what men would see in a delicately built woman with amazing bone structure.” Chris poured himself another glass of wine, knowing he would regret it in the morning.
“It’s not even that she’s beautiful, it’s just that she wasn’t afraid of me, she’s not afraid of anything.”
“Then look after her.” Jeff said gently.
“I’d like to.” Chris told them, and smiled at them, “thanks for your help guys.” He said, and disappeared into his room to change into his trainers, he realised that one advantage to his new state of mind was that he was fit enough to run a marathon.
Harry spent longer than usual choosing her clothes the following evening. She decided to try a new skirt and dark shirt which was lower cut than her usual taste. By the time she was reasonably pleased with her appearance, the whole band had gathered on her sofa, and she smiled at them slightly self-consciously and willed them not to say anything. Of course they did, the man who had taken years to forgive her for not reciprocating his rather dramatically expressed feelings, told that she looked gorgeous and she smiled gratefully at him and reminded herself that he was a fantastic base player. They navigated the damp autumn streets, relishing the wood smoke and the dark green of the leaves. Harry tried to take comfort in all the things she usually loved, but all she could think about was the fact that his distracting blue eyes would be watching her while she sang.
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