Читать книгу Pieces of You. - Ella Harper - Страница 13

Nell felt a warm arm snaking around her body. A male arm; solid and reassuring. Hairy, too. She opened her eyes blearily, wondering where she was. She snuck a look to her right. Ah, yes. It was all coming back to her now. She leant on her elbow and checked her watch. It was 4am. 4am on a Monday morning.

Nell lay back down with a jerky sigh. After struggling to concentrate on her portfolio the night before she had headed out for a few drinks with friends. It wasn’t something she normally did on a Sunday night, but for some reason, she had felt the urge to let her hair down. And somehow, she had ended up here. Nell shifted slightly, hearing Cal stir.

Nell stared at the ceiling. She hadn’t bargained on receiving a phone call from him asking her to come over to his flat late last night. Such a thing hadn’t figured in her plans and she had surprised herself by hesitating. Or rather, she had been taken aback that she had hesitated for only the briefest of moments. It had been a booty call, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. Which meant that she was weak. And stupid.

Did Cal deserve this, this instant acceptance of his request? Nell bit her stumpy fingernail, then abandoned it. He had barely spoken to her over the past few weeks. He had just about acknowledged her at college, but only because it had been unavoidable.

Nell knew she should feel guilty. She should feel used. But she didn’t. She felt desired and loved and beautiful. She felt horribly guilty, too, but the other feelings were outweighing the bad stuff and that was what she was struggling with. Last night had felt special, just like the other times. It probably wasn’t though – at least, not for him. How could it be?

Nell glanced round the room, not sure she liked what she saw. It was inherently masculine with dark furniture and old-fashioned drapes she suspected had come with the flat. The classic ‘man cave.’ But, on reflection, perhaps the fact that it lacked a woman’s touch was for the best.

‘Hey.’

Nell turned over. Cal’s blonde hair was tousled and his eyes were a murky green in the faded light. He wasn’t handsome, by any stretch of the imagination. He had a crooked nose, his face was a craggy map of wrinkles and he really needed a shave because her chin was ripped to pieces. He was also nearly thirty years older than her. And that wasn’t the worst part.

Nell studied Cal. It was his mind she admired, his intellect. He was older, wiser, experienced and … yes, he was caring. He really was. Other women definitely found him sexy – she had heard some of her friends discussing him in lectures. Not that he actually conducted many these days. Since he’d been promoted to the title of professor, he told Nell, his days were spent wading through paperwork with the ‘odd, joyous moment of teaching’ thrown in.

Yes, Nell decided. Cal was sexy. But there had to be more to it, otherwise she was going straight to hell. She didn’t have a current reference – the only one she could come up with was to liken Cal to the actor, Richard Burton. Maybe it was the Welsh thing; Nell wasn’t sure. Or the charisma. Or the …

‘I’m glad you came over.’ Cal reached out and stroked her thigh.

Nell leant over to grab her T-shirt, pulling it over her head. ‘Where’s my phone? I thought I heard it in the night.’

‘Haven’t a clue.’ Cal yawned. ‘Check the floor. Most of your stuff ended up there.’

Nell got out of bed and gathered up her things. Finding her phone, she frowned, noticing a number of missed calls and texts. Feeling a shiver of apprehension, she listened to one of them and, in a heartbeat, she was galvanised into action. Pulling her clothes on haphazardly, she grabbed her handbag and threw on her jacket.

‘Is something wrong?’ Cal sat up, his eyes radiating concern.

‘My brother … I have to get to the hospital.’

‘He works there, right?’

Nell urgently headed towards the door. ‘He’s been in an accident. It’s serious.’

Concerned, Cal padded over to her in his boxer shorts. He wore surprisingly trendy underwear for his age. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘No. No thanks. I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll be back for your lecture next week … especially as you don’t lecture much these days.’ She held something out. ‘Here.’

Cal’s fingers curled into a fist and his expression was rueful. ‘Call me later. I know how much your brother means to you.’

A sob caught in Nell’s throat. She wasn’t sure Cal had the first idea how she felt about Luke; their feelings about the importance of family hardly tallied. No, that was unfair. He did understand. And he did realise how important family was, which was why he was beating himself up about what they were doing.

Cal caught her arm suddenly, pulling her close. Their noses touched. ‘You know there has never been anyone else, don’t you? I’ve never done this before. It’s you … it’s only because of the way I feel about you.’

Nell nodded, feeling a flash of pleasure. She left Cal standing in his boxers clutching his cold, abandoned wedding band and started frantically combing the streets for a taxi.

‘Mum, calm down. He’s going to pull through.’

Nell tried to take a full breath but found that she couldn’t. She had tried hard to imagine how awful Luke might look on her taxi ride to the hospital, but this wasn’t what she had expected. The sticky, rust-brown blood, the machines, Luke’s dreadful pallor. It was shocking to see her brother, such a vital person, reduced to this.

‘How do you know that? How can you possibly know that Luke will pull through?’ Her mother was a mess, both physically and emotionally. Her hair was all over the place and she could barely string a sentence together. Pacing from one end of the room to another, she couldn’t sit still for a second and it was putting Nell’s nerves on edge, like someone stroking a cat the wrong way.

‘I don’t know, Mum,’ Nell admitted. They were both shell-shocked, but for some reason, she felt that she should be the one saying all the right things. She hadn’t cried yet, but she wanted to, just for the sheer release it would bring. ‘I’m just trying to think positively, is all.’

‘Where the hell have you been, anyway? Why didn’t you come as soon as I called you?’ Patricia’s tone was accusatory, but she probably didn’t realise how she sounded.

Nell’s opened her mouth then thought better of it. What could she say? That she’d been in bed with a married man – a professor at her college, no less? No. It was unthinkable, especially right at this moment.

Nell glanced at Luke. And to think she had waited to confide in him about Cal. Why had she waited? What was the point? Now it was too late. Not too late; what a stupid thing to think. Luke was going to come out of this, but Nell cursed herself for leaving it, for feeling the need to be secretive, even for a short while.

‘Lucy.’ Nell was stunned at the sight of her sister-in-law. She wore a grey Transfomers T-shirt and a pair of flowery flip flops. Her cheeks were as grey as her top and her legs, naked up to mid-thigh, looked pale and vulnerable.

Nell stared at her, thinking how young Lucy looked without make-up. She looked out of place, like a student who’d wandered downstairs for breakfast after a heavy night.

Catching sight of her, Patricia spun round. ‘Lucy. You must be distraught. Are you all right? And what are you wearing?’

Nell stared at Lucy. There was something strange about the exhausted slump of Lucy’s shoulders, about the empty look in her eyes. Something else had happened. Something terrible. Nell’s eyes dropped to Lucy’s stomach. It looked oddly deflated. Nell felt a cry rising up and she clapped a hand to her mouth to keep it in.

Lucy slid into the chair next to Luke’s bed, tiredly leaning her head against the wall. ‘I – I was pregnant. Nearly sixteen weeks.’ She wavered, clasping her knees with her hands.

‘Was?’ Patricia’s hands started to shake.

‘I’m afraid so.’ Tears slid down Lucy’s cheeks but her eyes seemed strangely glazed. ‘I lost the baby in the night. They don’t know why. They … they never know why.’

Patricia let out a strangled gasp.

‘IVF, last attempt,’ Lucy managed. ‘A … a little girl.’

‘No. Oh, Lucy, no.’ Patricia shook her head repeatedly, back and forth, back and forth. She made to step forward, but her movements were wooden.

Nell took Lucy’s hand. It was small and cold, like a child’s. She hated that she had been right, that Lucy had been pregnant. And worst of all that she wasn’t any more. Four months, four whole months. That only made the loss all the more tragic. And now Luke was in a coma. Poor, poor Lucy.

Nell felt something ripple up inside and she struggled to hold it back. Now wasn’t the time for a panic attack. That would be selfish and inappropriate. Lucy was suffering a double tragedy; she was only suffering one. She simply had to breathe. In, out, concentrate, focus. Wasn’t that what her therapist always used to say?

Nell saw her mother open her mouth, begin to say something. Almost in slow motion, Nell urged her to say nothing, to think before she spoke. Her mother wasn’t known for her tact and Lucy had already been destroyed.

‘Please don’t,’ Lucy said, before any words – right or wrong – could be uttered aloud. ‘Patricia. Please. Please. I … I can’t …’

Nell glanced at her mother, seeing the words freeze in her throat.

It was too much, too much for anyone to bear. Nell couldn’t imagine how Lucy must be feeling. Losing their final IVF baby and now this, Luke, in a coma. Nell wanted to say something, but the right words wouldn’t come.

Nell tried to ignore the sterile air that was permeating her nostrils, doing her best to put the image of Luke’s rust-stained head out of her mind. Luke was going to be all right. He had to be. They needed him. They all needed him. Nell’s thoughts shifted uncontrollably to her father and Ade. She had lost them, both of them. One had died, one had run away. Nell shrunk inside, transported to her teenage years. She was out of control, floundering, and now she was on the brink of losing another anchor.

Not Luke as well, not Luke as well …

Nell gritted her teeth. All she had to do was breathe. She couldn’t fall apart and she couldn’t act like this was worse for her than it was for anyone else. She simply had to breathe. Simple.