by Julie Caplin
‘It’s fine.’ She wriggled, trying to ease the dull ache in her back. ‘I’ll sit in the chair for a while. I’m wide awake now anyway. I promise I won’t watch you sleeping. Or take any dodgy photos and send them to Nina.’
His eyes were already drooping but he lifted them as if fighting it.
‘Go back to sleep. I’m fine.’
With what looked like a final push, he opened his eyes again. ‘Sleep. Here.’ He pointed to the other side of the bed and as if the words had used up his last reserves of energy his eyes closed again and she could almost see him slide into sleep.
For a while she did watch him, examining his pale face, the dark circles under his eyes and the tousled hair as he lay motionless, lost in a deep sleep. When her own eyes started to droop she crawled onto the bed next to him and fell fast asleep.
Chapter 21
‘What the hell?’ demanded Tara, bursting into the room.
Maddie startled into wakefulness, struggled to find any words and then gradual realisation sank in. At some point Nick had turned to face her and his arm was now draped across her waist.
‘Nick!’ Tara’s shrill tones were piercing, tempting Maddie to put her hands over her ears, which would have been childish but oh, so satisfying.
‘Nick! What’s she doing in bed with you?’
Poor Nick, who looked as pale as the pillows he was nestled into, struggled into consciousness, his blue eyes looking faded and red-rimmed as he exchanged a confused look with Maddie before he slowly withdrew his arm.
‘Tara?’
‘I asked you a question. What. Is. She. Doing. In. Here?’
Nick frowned and clutched his stomach, his eyes seeking out the bucket beside him.
‘For goodness’ sake, he’s ill,’ snapped Maddie, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. ‘He’s been throwing up all night. Someone had to keep an eye on him.’ She shot the irate model, who looked as glamorous as ever, a telling glare.
‘Hmph.’ Tara gave her a dismissive glance. ‘Nicky darling, how are you feeling?’
‘Alive,’ mumbled Nick, hauling himself up, the sheets dropping to his waist, and flopping against the pillows.
‘You look terrible.’ She glanced around the room. ‘You haven’t started packing.’
‘Packing?’ Nick pushed at his hair, making it stick up in tufts as he blinked like a confused owl. He looked adorably rumpled and lost, making Maddie want to step between them, give him a hug and tell him not to worry. He didn’t have to do anything.
‘Yes. Packing. We’re leaving the boat.’
‘Leaving?’ Nick parroted again. ‘Is it sinking?’
Maddie put her hand over her face to hide her smile.
Tara glared at him. ‘Sinking? Why would it be sinking?’
‘You leave a sinking ship,’ said Nick, his forehead creasing as if he were having trouble keeping up with the conversation.
‘That’s rats,’ said Maddie, conjuring up an air of innocence.
Tara whirled round and shot her a sharp glare; any sharper and it would have skewered Maddie to the wall.
‘Not permanently, silly.’ Tara’s girlish chiding tone made Maddie grit her teeth. ‘Just for five days. I need a break from that poky little cabin and the bathroom is doing my head in. There’s no room for anything.’
‘Where to?’ Nick seemed incapable of stringing a proper sentence together.
‘Back to the Ellingham’s. They’ve invited us all to stay. You need to pack. We’re leaving as soon as Ivan has moved the boat to the new port place. This afternoon.’
‘Tara,’ interjected Maddie, ‘Nick’s not going anywhere. He’s still not well.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Tara. ‘He has to.’ Her voice rose in pitch. She turned to Nick and collapsed with ridiculous drama on the edge of the bed, putting both her hands on his shoulders. They looked like tiny bird claws. ‘You’ve got to come. I can’t go without you.’
Nick tried to smile but it was a weak, half-hearted affair and when he opened his mouth to reassure the spoiled brat Maddie clenched her fists, imagining herself picking her up and dropping her overboard.
‘I … I …’ He winced, his hand rubbing at his stomach.
‘He’s really sick,’ said Maddie, watching him closely, seeing the fine lines tightening in his cheek and the tendons sharpening in his neck.
‘But you’re better now, aren’t you, Nicky? You were sick yesterday.’
He nodded.
‘And he’s still recovering.’ Maddie didn’t want to embarrass him but he couldn’t even walk to the bathroom unaided.
Tara drew herself up with an imperious sneer. ‘He’s just been sick. Everyone’s sick all the time.’
Maddie fixed her with a stern glare. ‘No, everyone is not sick all the time. That,’ she said with cutting emphasis, ‘is not normal. Nick needs to stay in bed and rest.’
A faint blush stained Tara’s cheeks. ‘Nicky darling, you have to come.’ She glared at Maddie. ‘I think you can go now. Leave us alone.’
Maddie stood up, almost nose to nose with Tara. ‘I’ve spoken to a doctor and Nick needs to rest and he shouldn’t be up for forty-eight hours in case he’s infectious.’
‘Infectious?’ Tara took a step backward.
‘Yes, it could be viral.’ Maddie sucked in one of those Granny-knows-all sort of breaths, like a boxer pulling his arm back to deliver the knockout blow. ‘You wouldn’t want to catch it, would you?’
It wasn’t funny really but the speed at which Tara shot off and Maddie’s smug expression made him laugh; actually it was more of a wheezy breath that hurt like hell. Some bulldozer seemed to have scoured out the inside of his stomach at some point. He couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that he’d felt so ruddy pathetic. Being ill was the pits.
‘Thanks.’ He winced, trying to drag himself back up the pillows. ‘Can’t decide if you’re a nurse or a Rottweiler.’
‘Here.’
Rottweiler, he decided at her exasperated tone.
‘Let me.’
She pushed him out of the way to plump up the pillows, her cheek brushing his, and he smelled warmth and rosiness, a just-woken-up female scent that made him want to nuzzle in.
‘There. Better?’
With a nod, he fell back.
‘Do you think you’ll be all right for a while? I need to go and sort breakfast out.’
‘Of course. I’ll be fine. Thanks for staying all night. That was …’ It had been reassuring. ‘Kind, especially when you’ve still got to work.’
She gave him a cheery grin, the brief burst of sunshine somehow making him feel a lot better. ‘Ah, but the unexpected bonus is I’ve got the next week off.’ Then she looked at him. ‘Well, except for you.’ Despite her blunt words, suppressed amusement tinged them.
‘I’ll keep out of your hair and you can pretend I’m not here.’
‘I’m sure when you feel better in a day or two you can join everyone at the famous Ellinghams’.’
‘Yeah,’ he agreed without enthusiasm, quite sure that he didn’t want to go back to that white mausoleum of a villa where everything was designed for style rather than comfort. Ice-white and just as cold.
‘Do you want anything? To eat?’
‘God, no,’ he said with feeling. Maddie flashed him a warm, sympathetic look. ‘My stomach is in full revolt.’
‘OK.’ She pursed her lips, studying him. ‘I’ll …’ there was a pause, almost as if she were reluctant to leave him ‘… come and check on you later. You’ve got enough water; keep drinking it but small amounts.’
‘Yes, nurse.’
As soon as she’d gone he closed his eyes, feeling inadequate and defeated. What wouldn’t he give to be home right now, for his sister-in-law to smuggle one of the dogs over to his place for company? Oh, to be in his own bed, with the knowledge that the rest of the family were just across the courtyard and that Mum could appear at any moment with her chicken broth, whic
h she’d been doling out as a family cure-all for as long as he could remember.
He blinked hard and wiped away at the sudden self-pitying dampness. Get a grip, Hadley. You’ve been ill, your system’s under attack; you’re just feeling under the weather.
He closed his eyes, let his mind wander. Unerringly, it kept going back home, picturing what everyone would be doing; Jonathon and Dan picking up some of his jobs on the farm with Dad, Mum baking a cake in the kitchen for one of her WI dos, the dogs keeping guard on the farm gate, and the sheep would be in the lower pastures, eating the short summer green grass. He could see the sun at its peak in the sky, slanting down over the steep sides of the fell, poking its way into the dark fissures of the crags cresting the skyline.
The boat’s engine had changed pace, the soft throb becoming stronger and more determined. Through the porthole he could see the shoreline moving more quickly as they headed further out to sea. He would have liked to see where they were headed; this sensation of sailing off into the unknown was mildly disturbing. He’d lost his bearings.
He was attempting to read but had gone over the same paragraph three times without making any sense of it when his door opened and Tara appeared, fractious and crackling with furious energy. ‘Nick.’
He fought the childish urge to duck under the covers and pretend he wasn’t here and it was too late to pretend to be asleep, although she’d have probably shaken him awake anyway.
‘Tara.’
She put her hands on her slim hips, tilting her head with an approving smile.
‘Well, who’s looking much better already?’
He blinked, his eyes gritty and sore. Really? ‘I don’t feel it.’ His attempt at returning her smile failed; he felt too wiped out for anything.
‘You will. As soon as you’re up.’
‘Up?’ he asked, his mind unclear and circling around the idea. Get up? Getting up ranked right along with scaling Everest at the moment.
‘Yes, it’s always the way. Once you get out of bed, have a shower, you’ll feel a million times better. You can’t give in to it. Do you want me to give you a hand to start packing?’
Packing? She had to be kidding.
‘Sorry, Tara, but I really can’t go. I feel like sh … I feel terrible.’
‘Well, I’ve been talking to Cory and we don’t think you’re infectious. That awful girl was just making it up.’
Awful girl? Who? Maddie?
‘It’s just something you ate. It’s probably that girl’s cooking. I bet she never washes her hands.’
Tara had advanced into the room like a tiger stalking prey and threw open his wardrobe doors.
‘Let me see … What do you want to take?’
‘Tara –’ he hauled himself upright, his arms shaking with the effort ‘– I’m sorry but I can’t go.’
‘But you must. Don’t you understand?’
‘No.’ The blunt honesty was an error.
‘How,’ said Tara, outraged, ‘is it going to look if I turn up on my own?’ She flung her arms out wide.
Nick shrugged helplessly.
‘I’ll look like some kind of loser, that’s what. Someone who can’t get a boyfriend. It’s bad enough that Cory’s got Douglas; he might not be very good-looking but at least he’s rich.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Don’t be difficult, Nicky,’ she wheedled, her voice changing, her eyes luminous and soft in a sharp change of tack. ‘I really, really need you to come with me. It’s not as if you’ll have to do anything; you can lie around on sunbeds looking gorgeous. I’ve got some foundation; we can make you look a bit less peaky.’
She started rifling through the hangers in his wardrobe. ‘Where’s your new linen shirt?’
‘I …’ He lifted his hands. He had a vague recollection of Maddie unbuttoning it.
‘Honestly, Nick. I suppose this one will do; we can go shopping in Hvar again. The villa’s only a short walk into town.’
She turned round. ‘Come on, Nick. You need to get up and dressed. Ivan says we’ll be arriving in Stari Grad in the next hour. The taxis are booked to pick us up from the harbour. Dinner’s at seven tonight.’
An involuntary groan escaped at the mere thought of eating. Sweat broke out on his forehead at the very prospect of getting in a taxi, bundled up against other people. Even staying in a new strange place seemed too complicated to comprehend. His stomach cramped, nausea swirling again. This cabin wasn’t home, but he knew how many steps there were to the bathroom. He knew if he got out of the bed at the wrong point he’d bang his knee on the bedside cabinet. He knew the feel of the short pile carpet under his feet.
‘I’m not coming, Tara.’ A sense of relief settled as he lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes. It was, he realised, the first time that he’d said no to her in their relationship.
‘Can’t or won’t?’ she spat. ‘I can’t believe you’re prepared to let me down like this.’
He forced his eyes open.
With her eyes flashing as she threw her magnificent mane of hair over one shoulder she seemed like a phoenix or a dragon, shimmering in fury and just as much a fantasy, as out of reach, as she’d ever been.
‘I don’t normally do ultimatums but … if you don’t come with me, it’s over.’ With that she tossed her head in the air and marched out, her nose higher than her forehead.
Wearily he shook his head, the scene reminiscent of Nina, at eight, stomping out of the kitchen when he refused to let her play with his Nerf gun.
But then his stomach cramped with a vicious pinch. A hot flush. Then a cold sweat. His system bucked. He fought it. Fought it hard. To no avail. He grabbed the bucket just in time and stopped fighting, giving in to misery as he heaved and retched.
Chapter 22
The gulet slipped into the quiet, pretty little port of Stari Grad just after one o’clock. Within minutes the noise and chatter of frenetic activity, like monkeys in a jungle, suddenly cut dead as one by one Douglas and co trooped down the gangplank with their cases and bags to the waiting taxis.
Maddie waved them off.
‘I hope Nick’s OK,’ said Siri, the last to leave.
‘So do I,’ said Maddie, a touch uneasy that he’d thrown up again this morning.
‘I guess now you’re in a port you can always call a doctor,’ she said with cheery dismissal.
‘I guess I can,’ said Maddie, her voice a little tart. Siri gave her a guilty look, hefted her bag in her hand.
It wasn’t that she minded looking after Nick, she really didn’t, but she was outraged on his behalf with the casual, heartless assumption among all of them that it wasn’t their problem, as if he wasn’t really one of them. And, as for Tara, she wasn’t even going to go there.
‘We’ll be back in a few days.’ The conciliatory note in Siri’s voice irritated Maddie, even though she was the only one who had even given Nick a second thought.
‘Have a nice time,’ said Maddie, her face carefully blank. If Siri expected Maddie to give her some kind of blessing and lessen any guilt, she could forget it.
Siri’s nervous, apologetic smile gave Maddie some satisfaction, but not much.
She watched as they loaded everything into the two cars, with Ivan striding away down the promenade to register the necessary paperwork with the local officials, and then the two cars slowly pulled away. Despite having acquired sole responsibility for Nick, she heaved a huge sigh of relief – five whole days to herself.
‘They all gone?’
She nodded, handing over a fresh bottle of water. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Funnily enough, despite being sick again, I feel a bit better. Sleeping helped. Thanks for cleaning up after me.’
She laughed. ‘It is my job.’
‘Yeah, but …’ he wrinkled his nose ‘… I’m sure that’s not quite what you signed up for.’
‘I’ve got used to it.’ She weighed it up for a second and then decided against telling him about Tara’s problem. ‘You sound a lot better.’
‘Thanks, my stomach is a bit sore but I don’t feel nauseous any more, just yukky.’
‘Why don’t you have a shower?’
‘Trying to tell me something?’
‘No.’ She laughed at his worried look. ‘It’ll give me chance to change the sheets on your bed. I don’t know about you but fresh sheets always make me feel better and a shower might make you feel a bit more human.’
‘As opposed to one of the walking dead.’
‘Ah, I see you’ve looked in the mirror this morning.’
With a reluctant laugh, he said, ‘Tell me how it is, why don’t you?’
‘Shower.’ She pointed to the bathroom. ‘I’ll help you but give me a minute to get my stuff. This room could do with … airing.’
‘You mean it stinks in here.’
‘Mmm, wouldn’t go that far, but … You could move cabins if you wanted to.’
‘No, I don’t think I’ve got the energy. Just contemplating the walk to the bathroom is enough.’
‘Like I said, I’ll be back in a minute. Give me two ticks.’
Of course, being a man, he knew best and by the time she’d returned with her cleaning bucket, mop and fresh sheets, his bed was empty and the bathroom door was closed.
She stripped the bed quickly and changed the sheets, giving all the surfaces a wipe down with the anti-bac wipes which were part of her cleaning kit.
She’d just posted the heavy feather pillows back into pillowcases when she heard a bang, followed by a crash and a yell from the bathroom. The shower was still running but there was no other sound.
She darted across the room. ‘Nick! Are you OK?’ she called through the bathroom door.
‘Yeah, I er …’ There was a long silence followed by a diffident, ‘Erm … no. I think I’m going to need some help.’
‘Can I come in?’ she asked. ‘Are you decent?’
Another long silence.
‘No, but I’m sort of stuck.’
‘I’ll close my eyes.’
It was difficult to push open the door as the shower door was in the way and she could see Nick’s legs sprawled in front of her, half in and half out of the shower. She wriggled through, grateful to see that he was face down on the floor. That spared some embarrassment. Grabbing one of the big white towels from the back of the door, she dropped it over his naked backside, although not before noticing that it was a very fine naked backside. Her insides clenched a little.