Читать книгу Hollywood Hills Collection - Lynne Marshall, Amalie Berlin - Страница 39
ОглавлениеABI WAS PLEASED to get to work on Monday. She was feeling overwhelmed, not physically but emotionally. Her emotions were swamping her and her head was full of conflicting thoughts about Damien. She wanted to trust him but she knew it was because she was attracted to him, and she really couldn’t afford to be. It broke all her rules.
But she had to admit she had enjoyed the day at the pier. She’d felt self-conscious at first about spending the day with Damien, but he and Summer had relaxed her and entertained her to the point that she’d forgotten to be worried, forgotten to be nervous about the crowds. It had felt like the type of Sunday thousands of normal families might enjoy and she had liked that feeling. It was something she’d never had. She had almost been able to pretend they were one of those families.
But they were not.
Perhaps she needed to think of any time spent with Damien and Summer as therapy. It had certainly made her feel good yesterday. She’d felt confident, she’d felt safe and she had coped with situations that she’d never imagined she would be able to face again. She had enjoyed herself. But Damien was still a colleague. It would be prudent to be careful.
She needed to be at work so she was forced to think about other things, things that mattered, like her patients.
She headed for Dylan’s room. He was due to have his dressings changed for the first time following the skin grafts to his arms so she needed to be there. She needed a dose of reality. This was her life. Her work. And work was something she could handle. She was trained for this and it didn’t require anything extra of her personally. She could cope with work but she couldn’t cope with her feelings for Damien or his daughter.
The pull towards them was strong. They were magnetic. Hypnotising. Was it them or was it the idea of them? A family unit but not quite? Something was missing for them, she could feel it. She recognised it because something was missing for her too, but was she living in a fantasy world? Was she kidding herself if she thought she could be the answer for them and vice versa? Why would they need her? No one ever had.
She gloved and gowned and straightened her shoulders as she tied a mask over her nose and mouth before entering Dylan’s room. Ellen had been nursing Dylan and she had everything ready and waiting for Abi.
She greeted Dylan’s mother, who was pacing at his bedside, waiting anxiously and hoping for good news. ‘Morning, Julie,’ she said, doing her best to project confidence.
Abi had one eye on the monitors as she picked up Dylan’s chart and flicked through it. ‘How’s he doing?’ she asked Ellen, as Dylan dozed. He’d been kept sedated since the surgery as it was important to keep him as still as possible to protect his arms from rubbing or pressure.
‘He’s doing well. Obs are all good. Temperature normal,’ Ellen replied.
A normal temperature was encouraging.
‘All right, let’s take a look.’
Ellen pushed the trolley closer to the bed as Abi spoke to Dylan’s mum. ‘We’ll change the dressings on his arms this morning. You’re welcome to stay while we do this but don’t expect the skin on his arms to look normal. Even though I have transplanted normal, healthy skin, it needs time to attach and for the blood supply to be restored.’
Abi and Ellen worked together to remove the bandages. Most came away easily and there was only one small section that required a little soaking. Abi felt positive. The skin she was revealing was red, indicating that the blood vessels were functioning.
‘Vascularisation has started,’ she commented, pleased with the outcome. ‘It’s looking good.’
‘What about his thighs?’ Julie queried.
‘The dressings on the donor site will remain on for another few days. His thighs are likely to be more uncomfortable due to the exposed nerve endings, but I will start to lighten his sedation.’ She turned to address Ellen. ‘Keep the antibiotics running for now.’
‘When do you think he might be able to come home?’ Julie asked.
‘Do you have somewhere to live?’ Abi realised she had no idea how badly their house had been damaged in the fire.
‘He’ll have to share a bedroom with his younger brother but the house is liveable.’
‘You should expect him to stay with us for another week but I’ll review that in a few days’ time and give you a more definite answer then.’
‘Will I need anything special when he does come home?’
‘We will go through all of that with you before he’s discharged. He will need physical therapy but I will get Grace Watson, she’s our resident physio, to speak to you before Dylan leaves and she or I will also organise a visit for you from a nurse or occupational therapist to organise any aids he might need. We’ve got time. The main thing is that he rests, stays relatively still and has time to heal,’ Abi explained, as she signed off on Dylan’s notes before returning to her office to get the rest of her day under way. She was consulting today. She had four new patients and she wanted a chance to read through their referrals before the appointments.
She sat at her desk, booted up her computer and scanned the list of names in her diary. One jumped off the screen at her. It was the first name on the list but that wasn’t what had caught her attention. She recognised this name.
Nicolette Farrington.
It couldn’t be.
The name was familiar but surely it couldn’t be her.
Abi’s heart was racing and she could feel a lump lodge in her throat, but she wasn’t quite sure what the lump was. It could be so many things. Fear. Apprehension. Panic.
Nicolette Farrington.
Mark had been a Farrington. He’d had two daughters—Nikki and Natasha.
Abi closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to stem the rising tide of panic. The words that had been printed on his memorial card flashed across the back of her eyelids.
Devoted husband of Tanya.
Loving father of Nikki and Natasha.
How many Nicolette Farringtons could there be in California? In LA?
She clicked on the patient details, almost reluctant to see what information had been entered. Did she really want to know?
Nicolette’s date of birth would make her twenty, which would make her the right age to be Mark’s daughter.
Abi was having trouble breathing. Her chest was tight and she could feel a sharp pain between her ribs as she tried to inhale. Apprehension had been replaced by guilt, which joined together with fear and panic. She fought down a wave of nausea as she tried to figure out what to do.
She buzzed her secretary to ask if Nicolette could be moved to Damien’s list. She hoped Jennifer wouldn’t ask why because what could Abi say?
I have a conflict of interest. She might be the daughter of my ex-lover. My married ex-lover. My dead ex-lover.
But of course Jennifer did ask why. ‘Why? Her mother phoned and specifically asked to see you,’ she said.
Why would she ask for her by name? Abi wondered. What was going on? What did she know?
‘Anyway,’ Jennifer continued when Abi stayed mute, ‘Damien is in surgery and Nicolette and her mother are already here. They’re waiting for you,’ she said, as if that ended the issue.
But Abi knew it was far from over. It was only just beginning. Unless it was a different Nicolette Farrington? That was her only hope.
She read through the referral letter on the screen, forcing herself to focus on the important facts and the patient’s history as she tried to ignore her nerves. The patient had sustained facial injuries in a motor-vehicle accident three months ago. She had fractured her eye socket, cheekbone, nose and jaw. She had been put back together but the initial focus had been on making sure she survived, not making sure she looked the same as before. And apparently she didn’t. This was a reconstructive surgery case and one that Abi would normally be excited about, but it was difficult to be excited when she felt like vomiting.
Still hopeful that she was panicking over nothing, she knew there was only one way to find out. She stood up from her desk, crossed the floor and opened the door.
It was her. Them.
There was no mistaking mother and daughter. She recognised them both, even though she had only seen them once before, at Mark’s funeral. But they were regular visitors in her dreams and the real-life versions looked identical to her guilt-induced, night-time visions.
They looked up as they heard the door open and Abi felt her heart stop as Mark’s pale blue eyes looked directly at her. Nikki’s eyes were identical to her father’s, the same shape and exactly the same shade, pale blue framed by thick dark lashes. It was like looking at Mark all over again, except a younger, damaged version. Abi hoped her own shock wasn’t written all over her face. She wasn’t shocked at the damage to Nikki’s bone structure but Nikki wouldn’t know that. She didn’t want her potential patient to think she was shocked by her appearance.
But the surprise of seeing Mark’s eyes looking back at her rendered her immobile for a few seconds before she came to her senses. Before she was able to ignore the colour of Nikki’s eyes, to ignore the fact that she had dark hair like her father’s, although his had been sprinkled with salt and pepper, before she was able to look at the whole person.
This wasn’t the girl Abi remembered from the funeral. There were few similarities between this girl and the one she recalled. She had been a pretty girl but the right side of her face looked completely different now. Her facial injuries must have been extensive or perhaps she had simply been badly managed. There was no correlation between the two halves of her face, between right and left. It was as if two different people had been put together to make one. Her face was lopsided, her nose was crooked, her right cheekbone was depressed and her right eye drooped.
Abi began to examine Nikki from a distance, looking at her face shape and bone structure and working out how she could fix her. She forgot about Mark. She forgot about his connection to this young woman. All she saw before her now was a girl who needed her help.
She swallowed her nerves and worries. Her professional mask slipped into place, hiding her own fears and insecurities. ‘Nicolette? I’m Dr Thompson. Would you like to come through?’
Abi managed to get through the beginning of the consultation by sticking to the script. She introduced herself to Nikki’s mother, Tanya, Mark’s widow, terrified she was going to start making accusations, but Tanya didn’t mention Mark and Abi relaxed. She got Nikki’s history and made an effort to focus on her; she couldn’t afford to dwell on Mark. The sins of the father were not Nikki’s fault or her problem.
She made notes about Nikki’s medical and surgical management post-accident, listing the issues Nikki reported—difficulty with eating and talking—and her concerns about her appearance. She listened to her say she just wanted to be normal. Abi could relate to that. Some people had external scars, others internal, but in the end everyone just wanted to be accepted, and for a young woman appearance was important. Abi got that and she would do her best to help.
Abi typed Nikki’s information into her computer, aware that Tanya was watching her closely. ‘Have we met?’ she asked.
‘No,’ Abi answered quickly, almost abruptly, and hoped Tanya didn’t hear the strain in her voice. She wasn’t telling a lie. Abi had seen them at Mark’s funeral but his betrayal had stunned her and she had avoided them. She had left as soon as she’d realised, not wanting to stay until the end, not wanting to make any accidental eye contact with Mark’s widow. She’d been terrified her guilt and shame and anger would have been written across her face for anyone to see.
The fear that she’d managed to put to one side after seeing Nikki’s name on her list returned with Tanya’s question. How had Tanya ended up here, in her consulting room? How had she found her? Was it a simple coincidence or was there more to it? Did she know something she wasn’t telling Abi? Was she deliberately stirring the pot?
Abi couldn’t ask—to do so would admit she’d known Mark and invite a whole lot of questions she wasn’t prepared, or probably equipped, to answer. It was better to feign ignorance. She could treat Nikki without ever having to reveal her connection, her history, with Nikki’s father and Tanya’s husband.
Did that make her as deceitful as Mark?
No, it didn’t. It couldn’t. Mark’s lies had destroyed Abi but that didn’t mean she wanted to do the same to his family. There was no point in saying anything now. There was nothing to be gained. To speak up would only hurt people. Keeping quiet was the best option, the only option, in Abi’s mind.
She was aware of Tanya still watching her, studying her closely, and it made her feel uncomfortable. In an attempt to distract her, she moved on to discuss the process for the surgery.
‘I will need some time to plan the surgery. I’ll need to take measurements and photos of Nikki’s face and if you have some photos of Nikki from before the accident that would be helpful. Did my secretary ask you for those when you booked the appointment?’
Tanya nodded and hoisted her handbag onto her lap and pulled out a large envelope. ‘I brought some with us.’ She passed the envelope to Abi, who shook the photos out onto her desk.
She felt herself go pale as she picked up the first picture. It was a family photo, a snapshot of Tanya, her two daughters and her husband. The resemblance between Nicolette and her father was even more obvious in this picture.
Mark had turned fifty when they had been in Afghanistan. Abi could remember the long weekend they’d had on leave shortly after, the weekend they had spent in Prague, celebrating. This picture must have been taken around the same time, some time in the past twelve months at least. Mark looked just as she remembered him. His dark hair had been greying slightly, starting at the temples where it had turned silver. He had carried a bit of extra weight but had been in great shape. He had looked vital, alive, robust. He didn’t look like the Mark she saw in her dreams. This wasn’t the Mark who had lain on the ground in the middle of a panicking crowd, bleeding onto the street, or the man whose life had drained out of him while she had tried in vain to save him.
In this photograph, taken when he’d been smiling and his pale blue eyes crinkled at the corners, he looked like a man you would trust. But it just showed that looks could be deceptive, for in reality he had also been a liar and a cheat.
But all that was in the past now. There was no way of bringing him back and she knew she wouldn’t want him back now, even if that had been an option. She was done with him. Now she just needed to get his family out of her life too.
She should be able to reconstruct Nicolette’s face without too much trouble. Despite everything, she could remember the shape and feel of Mark’s face under her fingers. She would be able to restore his daughter’s face.
She put the photo down and flicked through the others. Had she spent too long looking at that one? Too long looking at Mark’s face instead of at Nikki’s? Had she seemed distracted, inattentive, vague? She moved to the other photos—Nikki dressed for a school prom, her yearbook photo, a birthday party, a close-up head shot of her with her sister.
‘Can I keep these photos?’ she asked.
‘What are you going to do with them?’
‘I’ll make enlarged copies. The more information I can gather, the better the outcome of surgery.’
Tanya nodded. ‘So you think you can help?’
‘Yes.’ Abi’s voice was strong, confident.
She printed off a diagram of a face and measured Nikki’s features, jotting figures onto the paper record. She was relieved to find that her hands didn’t tremble as she measured the width of Nikki’s face, the distance between her eyes, the height of her philtrum, and took more photos.
‘What happens next?’ Nikki asked, as Abi put the camera down.
Now she needed some time. ‘I will see you again in a couple of days to go through the plan for the surgery in more detail once I’ve worked out the best approach, and if you want to go ahead we should be able to schedule the surgery for next week. I’ll get my secretary to make a follow-up appointment.’
Abi asked Jennifer to pencil the surgery into her diary and make sure that Damien would be free to assist her before she said goodbye. She could feel a headache starting and would really have liked to lie down somewhere quiet and pull the covers over her head. She needed Jonty’s company, or Damien’s. Either of them would help to settle her nerves and fears, relieve the tension she could feel building inside her, but she didn’t have either of them. And she couldn’t seek Damien out. She wouldn’t be able to explain her problem. She didn’t want to discuss it with him so she stretched her neck and shoulders, took two paracetamol tablets and got on with her day.
* * *
Abi had expected to have a few days to pull herself together before she saw Tanya again but it happened sooner than she expected. She was waiting for Damien as they had a meeting scheduled to discuss Nikki’s surgery further when Jennifer buzzed her office.
‘Mrs Farrington is here,’ Jennifer said.
‘Nikki’s appointment isn’t until tomorrow,’ Abi replied.
‘She knows that. Nikki isn’t with her. Mrs Farrington wants to know if she can have a minute of your time. She has some more photos for you.’
Nikki’s surgery was scheduled for next week. She didn’t need to see Tanya, there was absolutely no reason to see her, but she found herself saying yes.
She carried a fistful of photos in with her. Photos Abi assumed were of Nikki, and she wondered why she couldn’t have left them with Jennifer, but as Tanya marched across to her desk and fanned the pictures out across the surface, Abi realised why. These weren’t photos of Nikki. They were photos of Mark.
And Abi.
‘I knew I’d seen you before,’ Tanya said.
Abi clenched her fists at her sides to stop herself from reaching out and picking up the pictures. ‘I worked with your husband,’ she replied. Her heart was hammering in her chest and it made her voice jump in her throat.
Tanya spread the photos out further, shuffling through the assortment until she found the one she wanted. She pulled out a shot that showed Mark with his arm around Abi’s shoulders. She was beaming up at him, looking like a woman in love. It had been taken on their weekend’s leave in Prague, a belated celebration of Mark’s fiftieth birthday. At the time Abi had thought it was the most beautiful city, the most beautiful place, in the world but it had all been lies. Abi couldn’t believe that woman in the photo was her. It had only been taken nine months ago but she had been so naive back then. She had grown up a lot since and now she didn’t even recognise this woman.
‘Let’s be honest, shall we?’ Tanya said. ‘This was more than a working relationship. A lot more.’
‘Where did you get these?’ Abi’s voice was wobbling and her hands were shaking. She kept them clenched at her sides but now it was in an attempt to stop the tremors.
‘They were sent to me with Mark’s things. All neatly boxed up. Photos of my husband with another woman.’
Of course, Abi realised, his personal effects would have been sent to his next of kin. His wife. The one Abi hadn’t known anything about.
Why had she insisted on printing these photos and giving them to Mark?
She knew why. She’d wanted him to put them in his office or his room but he never had. She’d wanted to feel like they were a proper couple, like she was going to be part of his life when they returned to the States. After all, that was what he had promised her, and she had believed him. Despite the fact that he’d insisted on keeping their relationship secret—he’d told her that, because of his position as her CO, he didn’t think it was right to parade their relationship, and she had agreed. She’d had the future to look forward to so she could wait. But then she’d found out his promises had been empty ones. At the funeral she’d realised why he had wanted secrecy.
After he had died she hadn’t thought about looking for the photos, destroying them. She’d been too upset to consider things like that. She’d had her own copies and she hadn’t considered that Mark’s personal belongings would be sent back to his family. She hadn’t thought he’d had a wife. Daughters, yes, but he’d told her he was divorced. And she had believed him. She’d had no reason not to.
‘Were you having an affair with my husband?’ Tanya asked.
Abi didn’t know what to say. ‘We were having a relationship,’ she admitted. It seemed pointless to deny that under the circumstances. ‘But I didn’t know he was married. I didn’t know it was an affair. I didn’t know about you until his funeral.’
Abi had seen Tanya and her daughters at the front of the church but had still assumed that Tanya was the ex-wife. Until she had opened the memorial card and seen what it so clearly stated.
Devoted husband of Tanya.
Loving father of Nikki and Natasha.
Mark hadn’t been divorced. Mark hadn’t been planning on making a life with her. He had still been married.
She had left the funeral before it had finished. She had fled almost before it had started. She would never have attended in the first place if she had known. She’d felt embarrassed, humiliated and ashamed.
Abi picked up the photo of her and Mark in Prague. Looking at her picture, it would be obvious to anyone how she felt about Mark but Mark, other than the fact he had an arm around her shoulder, looked completely unaffected. Abi could just be a silly colleague. What had made Tanya suspicious?
‘How did you know?’ she asked.
‘You’re in all these photos. And I know Mark. You weren’t the first and I would guess you wouldn’t have been the last,’ she continued. ‘I knew Mark had affairs.’
‘You knew?’
‘I didn’t know about you specifically, you were just another in a long line, I expect, and I had learnt to turn a blind eye.’
‘Didn’t it bother you?’
Tanya shrugged. ‘As far as I was aware, his affairs were always conducted when he was away from home. I figured as long as it didn’t affect the girls I could put up with it. I could have asked for a divorce but I didn’t, for the sake of the girls. It was easier just to get on with my life and ignore what he got up to when he was away. He always came home to us and I always let him. That was my choice.’
Tanya didn’t sound angry or upset. If Abi had to describe how she sounded, she would have said resigned, but it was Abi who was surprised. Of everything she had expected, imagined, this sense of resignation wasn’t it.
‘Only this time he didn’t come home.’ The words were out of Abi’s mouth before she could stop them. Harsh words, she spoke the truth, but she hadn’t meant to voice her opinion.
‘He should have been more careful.’ Tanya reached out her hand and her fingers traced the line of Mark’s face in one of the photos that lay on the desk. ‘I guess he didn’t expect to die over there.’
Abi didn’t tell her that he would have expected that. They all had. Tanya didn’t need to hear that. She had loved her husband—that was clearly obvious. She didn’t need to hear the details.
‘I couldn’t save him,’ Abi said in reply. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You were there?’
She nodded.
‘What happened?’
‘What did the army tell you?’ Abi wasn’t sure if she could bear to vocalise the truth of that fateful day. Talking to Damien was one thing but it was something quite different to tell Mark’s widow the cold, hard facts. She didn’t want her to have the same nightmares she had. Someone who was emotionally invested in Mark didn’t need to hear the details. She didn’t need the truth.
‘Not much,’ Tanya replied. ‘They said it was a bomb and that he died instantly. But if you were there...’ Her voice trailed off and Abi knew what she was thinking. She was wondering how Abi had survived.
Abi knew the army would have been as kind as they could when they’d informed Mark’s family of his death. She agreed there was no need to go into the details of his suffering—to tell Tanya that Mark had died in her arms, that he’d been unable to speak and unable to breathe. That she had listened to his last breath, had seen it bubble out of his chest and leave his lips. She nodded. ‘That’s what happened.’
‘But you were all right?’
Did Tanya think that was unfair? Abi couldn’t blame her but she couldn’t argue with the facts. Abi had survived, although not without scars, both physical and emotional. ‘I was injured but not badly. Mark was nearer to the explosion.’
Tanya sat on the chair in front of Abi’s desk and Abi could almost see the strength seeping out of her. She had obviously been fighting to hold it all together. Was it still for the sake of her daughters or was it her way of coping? Abi didn’t know but that made her think of the reason Tanya was even in her office in the first place. Nicolette.
Considering how things stood now, would they still choose her as Nicolette’s surgeon? She imagined this might be enough to persuade them otherwise. How would she explain that to Damien? He had agreed to assist her with the surgery—how could she tell him that the surgery wouldn’t be going ahead because she’d had an affair with the patient’s father?
Her first concern wasn’t how she would explain this to James and Freya, how she would tell them that she had lost them business, but how she would break the news to Damien. What would he think?
‘Do you want me to find someone else to do Nikki’s surgery?’ Abi asked. There was no delicate way of asking that question.
‘Can you do it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Will your feelings about Mark or me or Nikki affect your process?’
Abi’s only feelings towards Mark now were anger and betrayal. She knew she needed to let that go and she was in the process of doing so, but she would make sure her feelings would not affect Nikki’s care. She was a professional, an expert. At least in a surgical sense she was, even if all other areas of her life were a shambles, this was something she knew she could do and do well. Medicine was all she had. ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘I always give one hundred per cent. What happened between Mark and me has nothing to do with Nikki. She will get the best possible care and outcome I can give her.’ This would be her way of making amends.
Tanya was nodding. ‘Good. I don’t want to find someone else. Nikki liked you. She felt comfortable and you were recommended to us. We are still struggling to come to terms with Mark’s death and Nikki’s accident has just made matters worse. I’m used to being on my own and taking care of the girls, but there’s a lot more going on than normal.
‘Things have changed. In the past I always knew that Mark would come home or I could pick up the phone and discuss issues with him. I can’t do that any more. I have to be able to manage on my own. If I can get one thing back on track, perhaps it will help us to feel as if we will be okay. This is important to Nikki. I don’t think she will cope with another setback. The girls are all I have left. Everything I do, everything I have ever done has been for them.’
Tanya had straightened her shoulders as she’d spoken, as she prepared herself to fight on her daughter’s behalf, and listening to her made Abi wish she’d had someone who would have fought like that for her.
‘I’ll do my best for her,’ Abi promised.
Tanya was a strong woman and, ironically, Abi thought she could probably take a leaf out of her book. She could learn to stare adversity in the face, to not back down, to not be afraid.
But, then, Tanya had something to fight for. She had her daughters.
What did she have?
Abi saw Tanya out of her office. She opened the door and found Damien poised on the threshold. In the shock of Tanya’s disclosure Abi had forgotten about their meeting. She turned around and Damien followed. To her dismay, the first thing she saw when she turned were Tanya’s photos spread across her desk. She hadn’t thought to pack them away, she hadn’t known what to do with them. She didn’t want to keep them, she didn’t even want to look at them, but to sweep them off her desk and into a drawer would only draw Damien’s attention to them. She would have to stack them in a pile and get rid of them later, but before she could gather them together Damien had reached over and picked one up. It was one of Abi in uniform.
Abi held her breath while he looked it over.
He pointed at Mark. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Mark Farrington.’
‘Your commanding officer?’
Abi nodded.
‘You were in a relationship with him?’
Abi felt the colour drain from her face. Was it obvious to everyone?
She nodded again.
‘So Nicolette Farrington is a relative?’
‘His daughter.’
‘You know her?’
‘No. I’d never met her until two days ago. The referral is just a coincidence. I don’t know his family. They don’t know me.’
‘His family?’ Nicolette’s file was on Abi’s desk. Damien flicked it open and picked up another photo. The family photo. It clearly showed Mark and Tanya’s hands. Their wedding rings. ‘He’s married?’
‘Seems he was,’ Abi replied. ‘Not that he shared that information with me.’
‘You didn’t know?’
She shook her head. ‘I found out at his funeral.’ She tried to explain. ‘Finding out that I’d been in a relationship with someone else’s husband compounded my PTSD. The guilt over Mark’s death and the affair in addition to the stress from the bombing incident was the last straw.’ Abi wasn’t sure if Damien would believe her but it was suddenly extremely important to her that he did. She wanted, needed, him to trust in her.
Damien put the photos back on her desk. He turned the one with her in it face down, very slowly and very deliberately. What was he thinking? Did he believe her or was he going to torture her over the affair?
‘Does his wife know?’ he asked.
Abi nodded. ‘She gave me the photos.’
‘Do you still think it’s a good idea to take Nikki on as a patient?’
‘Yes. I can do this and I think it will be amazing. We can transform Nikki physically, improve her function and her aesthetics and restore her confidence. I know what it’s like to have your confidence completely destroyed. Mark’s lies did that to me.’
‘Will you be able to put that behind you when you operate on his daughter?’
Abi nodded. ‘I’m angry with Mark for taking advantage of me and angry with myself for being so gullible, but I’m not angry with Nikki. This is my chance to make amends for what I did, albeit unknowingly, but it’s a form of redemption. I’ll feel better if I can make up for my mistakes.’
‘Are you doing this for Nikki or for yourself?’
‘For both of us.’ Her own self-confidence had been seriously dented by Mark’s lies but even if her personal life was a wreck, at least she had her work and despite Mark’s behaviour she would do her best for his daughter. ‘I have no intention of failing to do my best for any of my patients, and that includes Nikki. But I need your help.’
‘Are you sure you can do this?’
Abi nodded.
In Damien’s opinion that was a big statement to make and he wasn’t convinced that he believed her but, despite that, he could feel himself wanting to help her. But he hesitated before he committed himself to her cause. He needed to examine why he felt this urge to help. Was it because he felt she would need support? There was no doubt she was qualified to perform the surgery but did he think she was emotionally capable? Did he want to help because he thought he might need to pick up the pieces?
He knew she had been taken advantage of. She’d been mistreated, abused, emotionally if not physically. His protective instincts were strong at the best of times but something about Abi made them even more reactive. Abi wasn’t manipulative, like his ex. She was altruistic and because he could sense the goodness in her he knew he would give her anything she asked for. Including this.
‘All right,’ he told her. ‘I will help you.’
* * *
‘Hi, have you got a minute?’
Damien was standing in her doorway. She was getting used to him popping in and out on a regular basis. She was getting used to his dark good looks, the shine in the depths of his dark eyes and the spontaneous smile that was often so unexpected but always made her spirits lift.
‘Sure.’
‘How are you coping?’ he asked.
‘I’m good,’ she replied, and realised that she spoke the truth. She was feeling good with herself for the first time in months. Guilt about the affair had compounded her PTSD and exacerbated her symptoms, but finding out that Tanya knew about Mark’s behaviour and that Abi hadn’t been his only dalliance had lessened her guilt. Her conscience had eased and so had her stress.
‘Are you busy on Sunday afternoon?’
‘Sunday? No.’ She’d assumed Damien’s question would have been work-related but she had no plans. She never had plans. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve been invited to the film industry awards.’
‘Wow! Really? By whom?’ He really did live a different life from her. She couldn’t believe she had even dared imagine after their day at the pier that she could be a part of it.
‘One of my patients has been nominated for Best Supporting Actor. He had oral cancer, a squamous cell carcinoma with secondaries in his jaw. I reconstructed his mandible and he was able to return to acting, and he’s invited me on Sunday as a thank-you.’
‘Would you like me to look after Summer for you?’
‘Summer?’ Damien shook his head. ‘No. I wanted to know if you would like to come with me.’
‘To the awards ceremony? Me? Why would you want to take me?’
‘Who else would you suggest?’ He was laughing now, the little creases in the corners of his eyes bringing life to the smooth planes of his face.
Freya, Mila. She couldn’t think of any single girls. And if she could have, would she want him to choose them over her?
‘I want to take you,’ he said, making Abi wish everything in life was that simple. ‘I thought you might enjoy it. I know you said you’re coping with the pressure of operating on Nikki and I know you want to go ahead with that and I accept that is your choice—’ Abi knew he had reservations about the surgery. He had told her he was worried that it would increase her stress levels and possibly exacerbate her PTSD, but Abi had insisted she could manage. Work was the one thing in her life that she felt she had some control over. ‘—but you’ve seemed a bit quiet, a bit preoccupied, and I thought this would get your mind off things. Off Mark. So, if you’re going to insist on operating on Nikki and taking on all the stress that is going along with that, I’m going to insist that you have some down time. And the film industry awards are it.’
She would admit, but only to herself, that she had been thinking more about Mark over the past few days, because of Nikki, but she felt she was coping. And undertaking a complicated surgery seemed less stressful to her than negotiating LA crowds.
‘Thank you, it’s a lovely idea and I’m sure it would be amazing but I don’t know if I can do it.’
‘I know you’re not busy.’
‘It’s not that. It’s the crowds I’m worried about. They’re always huge.’
‘It’s okay. I’ve checked it out, I’ll organise a limousine, we’ll get dropped at the red carpet. Don’t worry,’ he added when he saw her expression, ‘we’ll be there way before the celebrities. We have to be early, but it will be safe—security is always tight. I won’t let anything happen to you.’
* * *
Abi emerged from the bathroom after reapplying her lipstick. She wanted to pinch herself. She couldn’t believe she had just been to the film industry awards and was now at an awards after-party, rubbing shoulders with celebrities and stars that she’d watched on screen for years. Despite Damien insisting she would be safe, she had been terribly nervous when they had arrived at the theatre. She’d opened and closed her fingers repeatedly, searching for the reassuring feel of Jonty’s fur, but he hadn’t been beside her. But Damien had been, and he’d sensed her nervousness and taken her hand as they’d walked the red carpet, but that had only led to a whole different level of nervousness.
His touch had sent her hormones into overdrive but at least she’d forgotten to worry about her safety. All she’d been able to think of had been Damien, and once seated in the darkened theatre, still hand in hand, she’d been able to ignore the size of the audience by focusing on him. He anchored her and made her feel safe and eventually she’d relaxed, but she was even better now that they were in a smaller crowd and a private setting.
She saw Damien across the room. He was talking to Tony, his patient who had invited them to the ceremony and who had walked away with the award for Best Supporting Actor. In a room full of beautiful people Damien was still noticeable. Tall, dark and movie-star handsome, he was turning heads in a space that was crammed with stunning people.
He saw her and waved her over and she picked her way carefully through the crowd.
‘Okay, pretty lady, photo time.’ Tony’s voice was raspy from years of smoking. Which he said was fortunate as the surgery had made it even raspier but no one really noticed. It was his trademark.
He held his prized statuette in his hand and offered it to Abi as he manoeuvred her between Damien and himself. ‘You hold it. It’ll make a great pic for your social media posts.’
Abi wasn’t on social media but she wasn’t about to admit that. She was sure that no one here would understand her reasons. She knew that many of the stars saw social media as a source of free publicity and that publicity was their life blood, but social media didn’t have the same appeal to her.
She took the little gold statue from Tony, surprised he was willing to let it go just hours after receiving it, but she wasn’t going to argue. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her.
Damien pulled his mobile phone from his suit pocket and handed it to a passing celebrity. Abi couldn’t believe that this young actress who had been nominated for an award was taking her picture.
Tony was on her right, Damien on her left as she posed for the photo, and the statuette glowed golden against the emerald-green silk of the dress she’d borrowed from Freya.
Damien wrapped his arm around her waist and the heat of his hand burned through the fabric of her dress. The dress was cut low at the back and she could feel his forearm against her spine, skin on skin. The award was heavy in her hand, her knees were weak and her heart fluttered in her chest.
The instant the photo had been taken she returned the statuette to Tony, afraid she would drop it.
Tony checked the photo. Although he was almost thirty years older than Abi, approaching sixty, he had a reputation as a heart-throb and once again Abi was conscious of the fact that these people made a living as much out of their looks as their talent. She was self-conscious about her own appearance so his comment caught her by surprise. ‘You look gorgeous, Abigail. If Damien hadn’t already snatched you up I’d invite you to—’
Abi opened her mouth to correct his assumption, to tell him she and Damien weren’t a couple, when she felt Damien’s hand on her arm and she stopped.
‘She’s off limits, Tony. Besides, you’ve got your prize already tonight.’
‘True, very true.’ Tony laughed. ‘Point taken. Go and have some fun.’ He kissed Abi’s cheek and said, ‘Enjoy the party.’
‘We will,’ Damien said, as he snared them both a glass of French champagne from a passing waitress.
‘Why did you let him think we were a couple?’ Abi asked as Damien handed her a glass.
‘Tony is a notorious charmer,’ he said. ‘No one is off limits and I didn’t think you’d want to be subjected to that. I didn’t think he was your type.’
What was her type? She didn’t know.
They sipped champagne and watched the crowd. It was an incredible evening to be a part of, even if she did feel like an outsider. Even though she didn’t believe in them, it felt a little bit like a fairytale. She could pretend she was playing a part in a movie—only as an extra, but it was a fun feeling being able to reinvent herself. Tonight she could be carefree, happy, loved. Tonight she could be anything she wanted.
The band began playing an old Frank Sinatra song. ‘Shall we dance?’ Damien asked.
He guided her around the dance floor with his hand on her back and his lips in her hair. She’d imagined he would be a fabulous dancer and she wasn’t disappointed. They danced chest to chest and Abi closed her eyes and pretended that she belonged at the party, pretended that she belonged in his arms as she continued with her fantasy of reinvention. Tonight she was a girl who could have anything her heart desired.
His hand moved lower to rest in the small of her back. She could feel each fingertip against her skin and his breath was soft on her ear. She let the occasion and the company seduce her as she imagined Damien kissing her. Tried to imagine how he would taste.
She was in a bubble, their own small world. Nothing existed except the two of them. Her senses had shut down, other than the most basic. All she could think about was sex, desire, want and need. And Damien.
Tonight she was a girl who could have anything her heart desired. And she desired Damien.
