The overwhelming smell of disinfectant, that failed to fully disguise other less pleasant odours synonymous with a hospital, made Julian gag as he followed the overhead signs and walked through the hushed corridors. He finally found the corridor outside Intensive Care. It was deserted and eerily silent—like an oversized box, marked with an immiscible caution sticker. The double doors with a round, head-level window peeking into the ward were like the lid; once opened, the surprise inside might take your breath away.
Julian paused, straightened his tie, and adjusted his cufflinks. It was a habit. A way of composing himself. A momentary distraction, even if he wouldn’t admit that to himself. He’d waited a long time for this moment. And now that it was finally here, he wanted to savour every second. Julian pressed the buzzer, waited for a go light, and placed both his palms flat against the doors and pushed hard.
‘Mr. Andrews?’ a nurse said softly as she walked toward him, her cheeks suddenly flushing a little as she spoke. ‘You must be Cameron’s son. I’m so glad you could come. He needs his family at a time like this.’
Julian smiled and extended his hand to shake hers. ‘Julian Harte,’ he corrected. ‘I’m Cameron’s son-in-law.’ The lie slipped off Julian’s tongue so easily he even surprised himself. But he knew non-family members wouldn’t be allowed access and he really needed to be here.
‘Of course, I’m sorry. Will your wife be coming in today also?’ The nurse’s tone was barely above a whisper. Julian suspected that was more for his benefit than that of the other patients.
‘No,’ he said oddly defensively. ‘Evangeline won’t be coming.’
‘I see.’ The nurse didn’t say anything more. She began to walk down the long, magnolia corridor and beckoned Julian to follow.
Julian could see monitors lighting up and machines working to keep Cameron Andrews alive as they rounded a corner and stopped outside a glass wall, looking in at a frail old man lying in bed.
‘He might not be strong enough to respond. But don’t be afraid to talk to him. It will do him a world of good to know you’re here.’
Julian smiled. He would certainly be talking to him.
‘I’ll be just out here…’ the nurse pointed to the nurses’ station behind them, ‘…so if you need anything. Anything at all. You just call me, Mr. eh?’
‘Harte,’ Julian reiterated, forcing a dry smile.
The nurse was twirling a strand of her frizzy hair around her finger and looking him up and down with a sparkle dancing in her eyes. He smirked. His fictional wife would be disgusted by a little flirting over her father’s dying bed. This was so many layers of fucked up. ‘Thank you. I won’t be long.’
Julian’s highly polished black, leather shoes squeaked as he crossed the floor toward Cameron’s bed. Cameron’s eyes were closed and his breathing was so deep and heavy that the sound filled the whole room. His greyish-blue face was just a shade or two away from blending in with the white cotton sheets. He looked so fragile and weak. Like a flower that had been pressed between the pages of a huge book for years. The old man’s head turned so slowly Julian had to squint to notice it was moving at all. Julian hurried to his bedside and gently pressed his palm against Cameron’s forehead. He could feel some of the tension in Cameron’s body fade.
‘Hello, Cameron,’ Julian said bending at the waist instinctively.
A throaty croak rattled around Cameron’s mouth, not quite fully passing his lips.
‘Shh,’ Julian encouraged.
Julian pulled over the nearby plastic chair and sat as close to the bed as he could. He slipped his jacket off and let it fall against the back of the chair. He rolled up his sleeves to just above his elbow and leaned on the edge of the bed. He reached for Cameron’s hand and held it in his, squeezing a little.
‘Do you have everything you need? Are they looking after you okay?’ Julian looked around the room, cluttered with machines and monitors, beeping and pumping like a poignant symphony. He knew as soon as he said it that it was just a platitude. And it wasn’t him. He wasn’t one to bullshit and tiptoe around. Fuck no! But for once, Julian was prepared to be as normal as he could be. Normal people used soft tones when visiting in the hospital. Normal people filled awkward silences with nonsense about the weather. Normal people brought flowers or chocolates, and they didn’t hide twenty years of fucked up under their skin.
She’s fine, you know. If that’s the first question you’d ask? It is the first question, right? She’s more than fine, actually. She’s strong and beautiful and away from us. The dominant assholes who just seem to mess up her life. Fuck, Cameron. What were you thinking? You had this amazing girl and you messed up. You messed up so much that you almost broke her. Almost, Cameron. Only almost. She’s not broken. She’s not broken and she’s as fucking close to perfect as I’ve ever known.
Julian pushed the urge to say every messed-up thought out loud deep into his gut. He studied the lines and wrinkles that time had patiently etched into Cameron’s skin. He looked so small, like a lifetime of misadventure had shaved inches off him. Or was it just illness having its wicked way with his body? He certainly didn’t look like a monster, someone capable of hurting Eva so badly.
‘Why did you do it, Cameron? Why did you snitch on that bastard you shared a cell with?’
Another gurgle rattled somewhere inside Cameron’s body. A bit louder this time but still not completely understandable.
‘Shh,’ Julian repeated. Maybe questions were too much for him. This was going to be a very one-sided conversation. ‘Are you strong enough to squeeze my hand?’
Julian felt a faint ruffle against his hand. ‘Good enough.’
‘Don’t tell me to shh…I’ll be quiet long enough when I’m dead,’ Cameron groaned.
Julian’s lips pressed together, and he nodded.
‘Your mother was a great woman, Julian. Beautiful inside and out. She put a roof over my head, even when I hadn’t a dime in my pocket. We gradually became friends, you know. I’d turn up on one of my out-of-control benders and she’d sit me down and sober me up. She gave a shit. Not many people in my life have given a shit.’
Julian shook his head. ‘You didn’t give them very much reason to, Cameron.’
Cameron sighed, like talking was using up more air than he had in his body. ‘Do you think I don’t know I made mistakes? Jesus Christ, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about how sorry I am.’
Julian squeezed his hand again; he believed him.
‘It’s too late for this stupid, old fool. But you’re young, Julian. You’ve plenty of time to change.’
‘We are who we are, Cameron.’
‘Nonsense, my boy. I’m sure your staff look at you and think you’ve got your head screwed on right. You’re wealthy and good looking, and a suited up cocky bastard, by the looks of things. But that’s not who I see. I see a terrified little boy who grew up all too fast and is still grieving.’
Julian swallowed hard. He’d never had someone sum him up in one sentence before. ‘I miss them. I miss them every single day.’
‘I know. But they’re gone, Julian. They’re gone and you’re still here. You don’t have to stop loving your parents, but you have to stop using them as your excuse.’
‘But it was my fault. I started the fire.’
Cameron sighed and licked his dried, chapped lips. Julian found a cup of ice chips on the bedside locker. He sat on the corner of the bed, sliding his arm behind Cameron’s neck to help him lift his head. He cradled the old man and slowly tilted the cup toward his mouth. ‘Just let it wet your lips. You’ll feel better.’
Julian lay Cameron back down and stood up, pacing the floor. ‘Where’s that bloody nurse? Are they supposed to leave you alone for this long?’
‘Julian.’ Cameron scolded like an assertive schoolteacher. ‘Sit.’
Julian did.
‘You are not responsible for your parents’ death.’
‘But if I had just done what my mother
asked. She warned me to stay away from the stove. But it was her birthday. Did you know that? She was turning thirty-five…Only thirty-five. I just wanted to make her breakfast in bed. I just wanted to surprise her.’
‘And I suppose you’re the only child ever to disobey his mother, eh?’
‘I should have listened. I killed my whole family.’
‘You couldn’t have known the stove would spark so much. It was an old house, and the timbers were rotten. The blaze wouldn’t have spread so quickly otherwise.’
Julian stood up and began pacing again. His legs were restless, almost aching. He turned back and looked at Cameron who could barely keep his eyes open for longer than a few seconds at a time.
‘How long?’
‘A few days. Maybe a week at most. My liver is fucked. And my kidneys are getting in on the act now, too.’
‘Days?’
Cameron cleared his throat, but it didn’t make his voice more audible than a bare whisper. ‘It’s not really enough time to fix up a lifetime of fuck-ups, is it?’
‘I didn’t think it would be so soon,’ Julian said, forcing a lump down his throat.
‘I didn’t think you’d come,’ Cameron replied. ‘But life is full of surprises. You’ve not told me what she’s like, you know. Is she okay?’
‘What makes you so sure I’ve found her?’
‘You might look like your mother, Julian, but you have your father’s determination. You’ve found her, all right, and I suspect the only reason you haven’t brought her here is because you’ve fallen in love. You’re torn between your loyalty to me and how much you care for your sweetheart.’
‘I don’t do love, Cameron. You warned me about that, remember? Best damn advice I ever got.’
‘You listen here to me, you suited little shit. I didn’t pull you from that fire so you could break my daughter’s heart. She’s had this asshole almost ruin her life already. Unless you’re going to be good to her, you put that dick back in your pants. I’ve a few days left in me—long enough to cut it off for you.’
Julian bowed his head and smiled. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. ‘I can’t force her to come here, Cameron. But maybe you’re right. Maybe we all deserve a second chance. Maybe Evangeline will give you one.’ Maybe she’ll give me one.
Cameron’s sighed, his cheeks caving in, highlighting how thin and drawn his face was. He was sleeping.
Chapter 7
Eva was so excited as she waited in arrivals that she was practically hopping on one foot. It had been six long months. And even though between Skype, text, and email she knew everything going on in Shelly’s life, it wasn’t the same as hearing the juicy gossip over takeout and a few glasses of wine. She’d had a hell of a day at work, and she was looking forward to knocking back a cheap bottle of red and having the best catch-up ever.
She watched as a stream of travellers passed through the electronic, double doors at arrivals. They hailed from all over the world. Short, tall, black, white, exhausted, excited, but there was no mouthy, strawberry-blond Irish girl among them.
When Shelly texted earlier, forgetting the time difference, and woke Eva in the middle of the night to say she was arriving a whole two weeks early, Eva was delighted. She was slightly shocked and had to blitz her apartment clean before work, but she was still delighted. She left work an hour early to make sure she’d be at the airport to surprise Shelly when her flight landed. She was beginning to regret that decision. She’d raced out the door without the flight details. Her emails were like a maze and she couldn’t find the flight number—not that she could remember Shelly giving her one, now that she thought about it. She’d watched three flights arrive from Dublin all with no Shelly on board. She tried calling Shelly a couple of times, but it had gone straight through to voicemail.
Eva decided to check out the bar; she’d wait there and Shelly would probably text when she landed. Three large glasses of red wine and no dinner later, Eva spluttered hello into her phone that she held upside down against her ear.
‘Eva. Get your sexy little ass back here. Mr. Thomas needs you A.S.A.P. Someone we weren’t expecting has just arrived at the barbeque, and he’s asking for you personally,’ Pam squealed into the phone.
‘Me?’ Dammit. Work stuff was the last thing she wanted right now. ‘Who is it, do you know?’
‘Dunno. But I’ve been trying to cover for you and I’m sucking at it. Where are you?’
‘I’m at the airport.’
‘The airport? What are you doing there?’
‘Long story.’
‘Okay, you can fill me in when you get here. How long will you be?’
Eva sighed disappointedly. ‘Dunno, depends on traffic. I’ll do my best, okay?’
‘Okay. Would it help to speed you up if I said he were drop-dead gorgeous?’
Eva chuckled. ‘Yeah, that might help.’
‘And that accent. Oh my gosh, I’m a sucker for an Irish accent.’
Eva almost dropped the phone.
‘Accent? Pam, did you get his name? Is it Julian? Is his name Julian Harte?’
Eva’s heart was jumping so hard she felt like it might tumble out her mouth.
‘No, sorry, didn’t get it. Missed his wife’s name, too. Sorry.’
Wife? It wasn’t him. Of course, it wasn’t. There were a lot of Irish guys in New York and none of them were Julian. But it didn’t stop Eva’s heart from sinking. She rolled her shoulders and tried not to sound disappointed. ‘I’m on my way.’
She gulped the last of her wine, paid the bill, left a ridiculously large tip, and cursed herself for not having anything smaller. Then she left to hail a cab.
‘The Stadford Hotel, please?’ Eva said sliding into the backseat.
‘Very posh,’ the driver commented, pulling into the bumper-to-bumper traffic.
‘It’s business, not pleasure, unfortunately.’
‘Work at nine pm on a Friday. I’d have a word with management if I were you,’ he joked.
‘I am the management,’ Eva laughed, ‘and I’m a very mean boss.’
‘I don’t believe that for a second. I bet you’re a delight.’
Was he flirting? Eva had intended to slip into her emergency little black dress that was hiding in her bag, but she was having second thoughts. The rear-view mirror had a particularly good view of the backseat. Skinny black jeans, a cream blouse, and a grey faux fur coat weren’t exactly formalwear, but they’d have to do. Anyway, she’d be glad she had the coat once she got up on the roof, she thought, looking out the window at the odd snowflakes that had just started to fall. A rooftop barbeque in December, what had she been thinking? She loved her new role in event management, but if half the department ended up with frostbite, she’d never hear the end of it.
The snow was falling much heavier by the time she reached the hotel and her six-inch stilettos objected to the icy footpath as she stepped out of the taxi. She wobbled like a duckling trying to cross the pavement, not helped by the wine kicking in. She cracked her neck, pulled her coat tighter around her slim body, and switched into confident work-mode as she walked inside.
The elevator doors opened with a gentle bing sound and Eva stepped out to an instant glass of champagne in her hand and several cheek kisses. The crowd shuffled her along to the centre of the floor in a constant flow of admiration for her outfit, compliments on her hair, and general sucking up. False as it was, she normally didn’t mind. In fact, the usual ego stroking that came with her job was all very nice. But her mind really was elsewhere tonight. Her phone call with Pam was playing on her mind. Just the mention of the word Irish had her head spinning back to Dublin and everything she missed. And Julian. Of course, Julian. Dammit, she could barely go a day without him in her head. She wondered when it would ever stop. If it would ever stop.
***
‘Shelly. Hey,’ Julian said, tapping Shelly on the shoulder.
‘Oh, hey you. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.’
�
�You’re not answering your phone.’
‘Sorry. I mustn’t have heard it. The music is pretty loud.’ Shelly pointed toward a stage near the roof railing, where some up-and-coming pop rock band was rocking out to one of their own tracks.
‘Where’s Eva?’
Shelly pointed to the bar. ‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet.’
‘Does she know you’re here?’
‘Yeah, I texted her shortly after we landed. We were supposed to grab a drink, but she’s so busy I don’t want to interrupt her.’
‘Does she know I’m here?’ Julian added.
‘I…I…’ Shelly’s face flushed. ‘I didn’t get a chance to mention it.’
Julian nodded, relieved, and began to walk toward where Eva was standing holding a glass of champagne in one hand and a clipboard in the other. His body jerked back as Shelly grabbed the tail of his jacket.
‘Wait. Julian, stop. I don’t think this is a good idea.’
Julian turned, but he didn’t take his eyes off Eva.
‘Did you know Eva is management now? I overheard she organised this whole party. She’s doing great, Julian. You walking back into her life could…’ Shelly paused awkwardly.
‘Could what, Shell? Seeing me could what?’
‘Head fuck her. That’s what!’ Shelly snapped suddenly.
Julian didn’t reply.
‘Jeez, Julian. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I just meant…’
‘I know what you meant. And you’re right. But right now there’s no other choice. There’s somewhere she needs to be, and I’m going to make damn sure she gets there.’
Eva began to venture away from the bar and was soon swallowed by the huge crowd. Julian lost sight of her. Shelly stepped in front of him. Her small frame almost humorous in its military pose.
‘Julian, stop. Not now. She’s at work, for fuck’s sake.’
Julian placed a hand on each of her hips, lifted, and spun her to the side all at once.
‘You’re a good friend, Shell. But this is not your call. Don’t get involved in this.’
Change of Harte (Harte, #2) (Harte Series) Page 4