by Croft, Pippa
‘I like Emma a lot, despite everything that’s happened. And you asked for me.’
‘And that’s the only reason you’re here?’
I shrug. ‘Of course I came. You knew I would.’
He watches me thoughtfully. I wonder if he’s seen a mirror yet. I want to cry at the state of his face, but it gives me hope to see him so feisty.
‘Kiss me,’ he says.
‘What?’ This is the last thing I expected and I shake my head. ‘I’m not sure I should.’
‘Why not?’
‘The nurses will be mad at me …’ And, I remind myself, we are not supposed to be together any more.
‘Shut up and kiss me.’ His voice is stronger now, still croaky but more insistent. He lifts up his good arm and waves it vaguely in the direction of his mouth, the line in the back of his hand trailing.
‘I’m not sure you deserve it, or that you’re well enough for it.’
‘I’m sure I don’t but you’re going to do it anyway. Aren’t you?’
His eyes flash with impatience and every misgiving rushes back, yet somehow I can’t stop myself doing as he asks, lowering my lips to his bruised ones, afraid to make contact with his swollen skin. This close, I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face, and the sheer proximity of his lean, hard, battered body close to mine makes me shiver.
Closing my eyes, I touch my lips to his with the lightest of pressure. I’m waiting for him to wince or cry, but his response is firmer than I expected and the kiss goes on. The world retreats, the insistent beep of the heart monitor melts into nothing and there is only him and me again. We could be back on the dance floor at a ball, or in the cloister at Wyckham …
Finally, I break contact, open my eyes and find him looking at me intensely.
‘Lauren, I meant the things in the letter.’ His voice rasps and I know it’s hurting him to speak. I also know I’m not ready to face up to the implication of his words yet; the shock of the past day and night – of the past few weeks – still hasn’t sunk in.
‘Shhh. The nurse said you ought not to get too tired, so stop babbling on and for once in your life rest when you’re told to, Captain Hunt.’
‘I only follow orders I believe in.’
‘Was that how you ended up like this, then?’
‘Bollocks. Listen to me.’ He grasps my fingers, his grip as strong as ever, and his eyes burn with a stubborn fire. ‘When I’m out of here, I’ll make good on my promises.’
‘That’s the drugs talking,’ I answer lightly.
His voice is urgent now. ‘I mean what I said; I’m not going to waste any more time.’
‘If you remember, you were happy to see the back of me.’
‘That was before!’ he says, exasperated.
‘What’s happened to you doesn’t change things between us.’
‘Then for fuck’s sake, Lauren, why are you here?’ He tries to reach for me and his face contorts in a grimace. ‘This bloody arm.’
‘Alexander, be careful.’ I stop him from toppling sideways out of bed. My face is inches from his bloodied one. I bite down a wince of sympathy and the urge to kiss him against my better judgement.
‘Things are going to be different,’ he whispers. ‘Just give me a chance.’ He tries to sit up again and hisses through his teeth. I spot the anxious and disapproving face of the nurse at the window but Alexander grips my hand again.
‘For God’s sake, lie down and keep still for a while. Look, the nurse has seen us now! Do you want to get me thrown out?’
‘I thought you wanted an excuse to leave,’ he taunts.
‘I’d rather it was my own decision, rather than being escorted from the building.’
‘I don’t care. Christ, you make me so mad, but I want you in my bed. That’s what’s going to make me better. I want to be inside you right now.’
The nurse is distracted by the ward sister and despite every misgiving, and the fact he’s a seriously injured man lying in a hospital bed, I can’t deny the effect his words are having on me, let alone that look in his eye, which I can never resist. What kind of person does that make me? Giving into my feelings and desires, and going back to his bed, would only be a temporary cure and the real issues between us would soon surface again, like his secretive, volatile nature, the lack of trust between us, and the fact that in a few months we both have to make major decisions about our futures which will probably put us thousands of miles apart. I plan on getting a job in a gallery or museum after my master’s, while Alexander will have to rejoin his unit and could be posted anywhere. If he fully recovers, that is.
The door opens and the nurse bustles in. She marches over and throws me a brisk smile.
‘Time’s up, I’m afraid. We don’t want Captain Hunt getting worn out, do we?’
‘No, not yet,’ I say with a meaningful glance at Alexander, now lying quietly in his bed, the picture of the model patient. He returns my gaze with a fleeting tilt of his mouth that may be resignation or a challenge and before I can say another word I’m being firmly but politely ushered from the room.
Outside, there are thuds and rattles up the corridor, where Emma is abusing a vending machine. ‘Crappy thing!’ she mutters, banging the side.
‘Sorry,’ I say to the nurse, who shrugs.
‘Don’t worry; it’s a very stressful time for you. Captain Hunt is probably going to sleep for the rest of the day and there’s not much point in you staying. If you don’t mind me saying, you and Emma both look exhausted. I suggest you go home and get some rest. I promise we’ll call if there’s any news but by the look of him, you can relax a little.’
Hearing this makes my shoulders actually slump in relief. ‘I hope so, and you’re probably right about us being tired, but I’ll have to fix up where we’re going to stay while Alexander recovers, and speak to Emma’s school.’
‘If there’s anything we can do to help, just ask.’
‘Thanks, but I’m sure we’ll be fine. Can we come back this evening?’
‘I think you should wait until tomorrow. The more rest he can get the better, if you can keep away that long.’
‘I’ll see what Emma says.’
As the nurse returns to her duties, I hurry to the vending machine to save Emma from a criminal damage charge.
I push the refund button three times in rapid succession and her change clatters into the slot.
‘Bugger. Why didn’t it work for me?’ she mutters.
‘Because you gave it a slap?’ Her pout is full-on but I shake my head and reclaim the coins. ‘It’s the same machine as the one at the university tennis centre. It’s got the same quirks.’
I feed the money back into the slot and a can of Coke rolls into the tray with a thud.
Emma collects it, a sheepish look creeping over her face. ‘Thanks … Um, I’m sorry for rushing out like that but he is so stubborn, he drives me mad.’
‘It’s OK. I know what you mean but I should relax for now because I think he’ll be on sick leave for quite a while. Even then, he might not be fit enough to return to duty, especially combat duty, for ages. At least you know he’s going to be kept out of trouble for a long time. Be happy with that for now?’
She appears to mull this over briefly, then says, ‘I suppose so.’
Emma pulls the ring from the can and the Coke hisses and fizzles.
I distract her by telling her we need to find somewhere to stay, and won’t be coming back to see Alexander until the morning.
She sighs. ‘OK, if that’s really what the nurses think is best. But where will we go? It’s too far to trawl back and forth from Falconbury or the house in Oxford.’
‘I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe we should book a hotel near the hospital … Or perhaps Immy would let us stay in her apartment for a day or two, but after that don’t you think you might be better off going back to school?’
‘We break up for Easter today. It was the end-of-term sixth form party last night and Brandon was go
ing to call for me later today anyway. I hope Alex is well enough to come home soon because I don’t want to be on my own at Falconbury with just Robert and Helen. He won’t want me to stay with Allegra after the last time, that’s for sure.’
‘You can understand that.’
‘I still think he overreacted. The thing is, even if Alex did let me stay at Allegra’s, her mother probably wouldn’t have me. She hit the roof when she found out Allegra had told Alex I’d stayed with her while I went to a hotel with Henry.’
‘Fingers crossed they let Alex out, and you could have a friend to stay. He won’t mind that, will he?’ I say, hoping Alexander will have far too much on his mind when he gets home to worry about any visiting friend of Emma’s being a bad influence.
‘I suppose so.’ Suddenly Emma’s face brightens. ‘And you’ll be at home with us anyway, so he’s bound to be a good mood.’
This statement floors me temporarily. ‘I … um … I’m not sure if that will happen, Em. Things weren’t that great between us the last time we were together.’
‘That was before he was hurt. He called you first, didn’t he, so he must want you to get back with him. And you came, so that must mean you feel the same.’
‘Emma, it’s not quite as simple as that …’
‘Bollocks. And you know it.’
I almost laugh out loud at Emma’s breezy confidence. ‘Emma, I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’m here now and we’ll just have to see. I am supposed to be heading home to Washington.’
Emma looks horrified. ‘You can’t just walk away from us.’
‘I said “supposed to”, Emma, I don’t want to walk away. If you and Alex need me, then I might see if I can stay a bit longer, but it’s not going to be that simple.’
She watches me over the rim of the can, poker faced, while she waits for me to make the next move.
‘Hey, we’re getting way ahead of ourselves here. First, Alexander needs to get better, and second, we need a place to stay for a couple of days. I’ll give Immy a call and see what she can do.’
Emma hugs me, all smiles. ‘Great. I knew you’d sort everything out, Lauren.’
Sure I can. I can sort anything out in Emma’s eyes. But even if it gets me into deeper shit than ever, I figure have no choice for the time being. So, after an update on Alexander’s progress – now ‘stable’ and ‘comfortable’ – and a glance through his room window to see that he’s asleep again, and a lot of reassurance from the nurses, Emma and I manage to drag ourselves away and take a cab back to central London.
To my relief, Immy has finally returned my call. She had her phone turned off until she got back to the apartment after spending the night – what was left of it – with her rower at a hotel near Jocasta’s house.
The first thing I had to deal with was a succession of ‘Oh my Gods’ and shocked gasps while I relayed the story of Alexander’s injuries. However, I also love her to bits because, without me even asking, she offered to let me stay on at the apartment for as long as I want while Alexander recovers.
I felt awkward about asking if Emma could stay too, but Immy didn’t seem to mind; she has known Alexander and his family for a few years – if not that well, then enough to want to give them support. The apartment actually belongs to her parents but she’s assured me that they won’t mind in the least.
The cab crawls into central London. Emma is texting frantically while I wonder when and how to tell my parents I may be in the UK for a while longer. They were happy enough for me to delay my return because I wanted to study, and really, they know they can’t interfere with my decisions any more – but they miss me and, yes, I miss them. If they knew about Alexander, I think they’d put up much more of a fuss though. If I stay in London and then at Falconbury, I’ll have been here for a chunk of the Easter vac and won’t have long at home, but my parents will be so upset if I don’t see them at all.
‘Hello-oo, Earth to Lauren.’ Emma grins at me. ‘You were on another planet.’
‘It’s happening a lot lately. Hey, I think this is Immy’s street.’
The driver slows down and finally stops outside Immy’s apartment block. While I’m paying him, the front door opens and Immy runs down the steps to the kerb.
‘Hello! I’ve been waiting for you. You poor things, you must be knackered!’ Immy hugs me.
‘Just a little,’ I say.
‘Hi, Emma. How are you?’
Immy hugs Emma too, and she doesn’t seem to mind. ‘OK, though I almost barfed in the cab.’
‘Poor you. Come on up and I’ll make you a drink. I’ve got most things.’
Immy takes Emma’s bag and we follow her upstairs, Emma giving the apartment the once-over. It’s a bohemian place, with original modern art on the walls, what my mother would call an ‘eclectic’ mix of furniture, and Chinese rugs covering the floorboards. I think it will appeal to Emma’s arty side. She seems pleased to be here and I can tell Immy’s trying to be super helpful.
‘Shall I show you to your room, and then I’ll make us all a drink?’
‘Thanks.’
Immy opens a door off the hallway. ‘Will you be OK in here? It’s only a box room really, but there’s a put-up bed and I thought you’d rather have your own room. I know it’s not Falconbury …’
‘It’s great,’ says Emma, walking inside. ‘I only have a small bedroom at school and I’m so happy you can have us to stay. It wouldn’t be nearly as much fun in some stuffy hotel Are you sure your parents won’t mind?’
‘Not at all. They said you can stay as long as you like. My mother was at school with yours, you know.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know that. Do you think she might have some stories about Mummy?’
It strikes me that Emma was only a little girl when Lady Hunt died so she must be desperate to hear other people’s memories of her.
‘I’ll ask her.’ Immy smiles, her face softening. ‘Why not leave your bag in here. Have you got everything you need? I can lend you some pyjamas and a toothbrush if you like. We keep spares in the cupboard or we can nip out to the Waitrose on the corner. They have most things.’
‘Helen made me throw a few things into a bag, but I haven’t got enough stuff for a week,’ says Emma.
‘Do you think Alexander will be in hospital that long?’ says Immy, betraying the first faint signs of alarm that she may be playing host to Emma for longer than she’d planned.
‘I think they need to make sure he’s out of danger and start a course of treatment and physio, according to the doctor.’
‘Of course. Well, look, if you’re here for long, we could go shopping for new things,’ she says to Emma.
‘Cool. I was going to have Brandon fetch my stuff from Falconbury but buying new would be a lot nicer than having Helen rifle through my knicker drawer, much as I love her.’
So, the prospect of shopping has cheered Emma up and I don’t blame her; we could all use a little light relief.
‘You two must be starving. Is pizza OK? I can order some in or we can get Chinese, Thai or Indian?’
‘Any of those,’ says Emma. While Immy makes us a coffee, and Emma admires the artwork, apparently delighted to be here despite the circumstances, I’m just wishing I could feel the same.
A few days later, I’m back at the hospital. Immy has tactfully taken Emma shopping in the West End to give me some private time with Alexander. While his face is still swollen and bruised, I’m relieved to find him awake. I grab a sneaky look through his window to see him flicking though the TV channels with his good arm, a scowl of disgust on his face. When I enter the room, he drops the remote on the covers and rolls his eyes.
‘Do people really watch this crap?’
‘Glad to see you’re feeling better.’ I grin.
He grunts, then manages a smile. ‘Are you about to make me feel worse?’
‘I don’t know.’ I take a chair by his bed. ‘So, if it’s not a stupid question, how are you today? You look more like your o
ld self.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good thing. I’ve seen myself in the mirror and now they’ve cut down my ration of happy juice, I do feel like I’ve been run over by a tank.’ He winces as he pushes himself gingerly up the pillows.
‘You have some spectacular bruises …’ What I’m really focused on, though, is that he has spectacular pecs – he’s sitting up bare-chested, partly because the hospital room is warm but mainly as it’s difficult to get a gown on him because his arm is so heavily bandaged.
He glances down at the mottled pattern on his chest with some pride. ‘Are you impressed?’
‘You should know by now that nothing about you impresses me,’ I say coolly.
‘Mmm, and yet you’re paying a lot of attention to my body.’
‘It’s horrified fascination,’ I say at least partly truthfully and rest my fingertips on an especially colourful cloud-shaped bruise. ‘How did you get these?’
‘I really can’t remember much about it.’
I glance up into his face. ‘Bullshit.’
‘It’s the only bullshit you’re going to get.’
I press lightly in the centre of the bruise but he doesn’t even flinch. Did I want him to? I’m not sure.
He takes my hand from his chest but keeps hold of it. ‘I tell you what, give me a kiss and I may tell you a little more.’
Leaning forward, he pulls me towards him.
‘I’ll hurt you,’ I whisper, half out of my chair already.
‘I don’t give a toss.’
With his good hand, he pulls me closer, until I’m standing, leaning over him. ‘Come here.’
‘I shouldn’t. The nurses …’
‘In the nicest possible way, screw the nurses. Come closer. I’d make you, if it wasn’t for my bloody arm.’
A few days ago, I thought I’d never be this close to him again. I’d steeled myself not to feel like this: fizzing with desire for him, aching for the feel of his body against mine.
I put my arms around his waist, terrified of hurting his damaged shoulder and hearing him cry out in pain, but the only sound he makes is a sigh when he kisses me, like he’s been starved of food for a million years. His lips are dry and the stubble on his chin rasps my skin but this kiss is amazing; I never want it to end. I push my tongue inside his mouth, desperate to be deep inside him and taste every part of him. I pull him closer to me.