Читать книгу 200 Harley Street - Lynne Marshall - Страница 28

LIZZIE DROPPED OFF her things at the bed and breakfast and told Mrs Hewitt that, no, she didn’t want dinner tonight, before heading off to visit her parents.

It was the tiniest procedure.

A visiting surgeon was there for lumps-and-bumps day and Lizzie held her mother’s hand as the small lesion was removed.

You missed Valentine’s Night in Paris with Leo Hunter for this.

She watched as a small sticking plaster was applied, and stupid tears filled Lizzie’s eyes.

‘It’s not hurting her,’ Shelby, the nurse, said. ‘He put in lots of anaesthetic.’

‘I know,’ Lizzie answered. What was hurting was the full realisation that she had been hiding, had been trying to stop the hurt—and causing it in the end.

Lizzie took her mum back to her room, helped her into bed and then brought her in some biscuits and tea.

‘So you’re off in the morning?’ Thomas asked.

‘Yes, but I’ll come and see you before I go,’ Lizzie said, dunking the biscuit and feeding it to her mum and seeing her smile from the simple pleasure of a tea-soaked biscuit.

‘Nice?’ Lizzie asked her mum.

‘Lovely,’ Faye said. ‘Thank you for being here today, Lizzie.’

As clear as a bell Faye said it and Lizzie started to cry because, yes, she’d missed Valentine’s night in Paris with Leo but it was now actually worth it for this.

Worth it to see her mum to take out a tissue and wipe her daughter’s tears—worth it for a brief moment with her mum that was how it should be.

Not how it was.

‘Have you got my watch?’

‘Actually, I do.’ Lizzie could only laugh. ‘I picked it up this afternoon.’ She put the watch on her mother’s wrist and wished that she could superglue it there. ‘I love you, Mum,’ Lizzie said, but Faye was back to wherever it was she went.

When the residents had all had dinner and her mum was settled, Lizzie said goodnight.

Lizzie waved to a couple of the other residents as she left and then headed back to the Hewitts’, drained and exhausted from a week of pretending to be fine with Leo, and then the sound of her mother’s clear voice.

One more big cry, Lizzie decided, and stopped for supplies—she already had chocolate but she bought some more and a nice bottle of wine too.

Oh, and a DVD.

Oh, and a big box of tissues with aloe vera in them so her nose wouldn’t be all cracked on Monday.

‘Evening, Lizzie.’ Mrs Hewitt’s eyes lingered on the bag as if she was smuggling in contraband. ‘You just made it. Howard was about to close the kitchen.’

‘I didn’t want dinner,’ Lizzie said, even though she was starving, but sitting alone on Valentines night really was about the limit. She could hear the sound of laughter and the chink of glasses coming from the dining room.

‘Howard waited for you,’ Mrs Hewitt said. Which meant, in her oh-so-passive-aggressive way, “get through there now and eat your dinner!”

‘Okay, thanks …’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ll just go and put my coat away.’ And sign up for a course on self-assertion, Lizzie thought darkly as she climbed the stairs. She just wanted to be alone and to think about Leo.

Oh, Leo.

She missed him.

Missed his snobbish sense of humour and missed being the other person in his life.

She understood Flora totally now because it would be terribly easy to make a fool of herself, Lizzie thought as she took her phone out of her bag.

Terribly easy to text him and plead for that helicopter to come and whizz her away and to promise she could handle it for a little while longer, even though it could never last.

Put down the phone, Lizzie!

She did as pride told her and put some lip-gloss on instead then chewed it off as she made her way down to the dining room, bracing herself to enter couple’s world alone on Valentine’s night.

She was sure she was seeing things.

There, rising to stand as she walked in, was Leo.

‘He told me to say nothing,’ Mrs Hewitt said.

‘What are you doing here?’ Lizzie asked, trying to tame her heart, trying not to rush over and burst into tears and read far more into this than there was.

‘I felt like splurging,’ Leo said. ‘I ordered three courses and we get a free bread roll and coffee.’

‘Stop it.’ Lizzie laughed.

‘I haven’t told you the best bit.’ His face was completely deadpan. ‘Howard made rum balls with our coffee, given it’s Valentine’s Day.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Lizzie asked, after Howard had served them their tomato soup, with a very wobbly cream heart drizzled on top.

‘I miss you,’ Leo answered simply.

‘You saw me this morning.’

‘You know what I mean.’

She did.

‘Mrs Hewitt wouldn’t let me into your room …’ He always had and always would make her smile. ‘I’m across the hall. Can I sneak over?’

‘I can’t have sex here, Leo. It would be like doing it at home.’

‘We’ll be very quiet,’ Leo said, pressing his knee into hers, ‘but we’ll have to do it on the floor or we’ll self-combust with those nylon sheets.’ He saw the glitter of tears in her eyes even as she laughed. ‘How was your mum?’ he asked, as the second course was served.

‘I was just sitting there feeling sorry for myself that I’d missed Paris with you, but then she smiled and thanked me for being there. She really did recognise me.’

‘Worth it, then,’ Leo said, and it was without even a trace of sarcasm.

‘Yes.’

‘But it doesn’t make it easier.’ His insight shocked Lizzie. ‘That she does know that you’re there sometimes must make you wonder if she misses you when you’re not.’

Lizzie nodded and she felt his hand on her cheek but she moved her face, she just couldn’t pretend it wasn’t agonising. ‘The thing is …’ Soup was a terribly hard ask and she shredded her roll instead and wondered how best to tell someone you desperately wanted to be with that it hurt too much to pretend. How to tell him that she loved him, which meant she couldn’t have sex with him because it came with her heart attached and it was soul-destroying, trying to guard it. ‘The thing is,’ Lizzie started again. ‘You remember when we said it might be awkward, us working together—I think, if we prolong things, we could get to that stage and I still want to work at the clinic so I think we need to—’

‘It isn’t awkward for Rafael and Abbie.’

‘No,’ Lizzie said, ‘but they’re a real couple. Leo …’

‘If we were married, would it be less awkward?’

Lizzie’s eyes jerked up, sure he was teasing, that she was supposed to give some witty reply—but she was all out of them.

‘Please, don’t joke.’

‘If you knew how nervous I was, you’d know I wasn’t joking. Look.’ He showed her a small mark on his chin. ‘I cut myself shaving.’

‘Wow!’

‘I mean it,’ Leo said. ‘I want you to marry me.’

‘Leo?’ She didn’t understand. ‘You don’t want to get married. You don’t want be tied down …’ She giggled at his expression. ‘You know what I mean, Leo. I have commitments.’

‘I know,’ Leo said, and Lizzie blinked because he didn’t seem fazed.

‘Of course, I have to get the mix better, I realise that, but when my parents need me …’

‘You’ll be here when they do,’ Leo said. ‘Lizzie, I’m never going to ask you to choose me over them.’ He saw the doubt in her eyes and decided to smooth-talk his way around it. ‘Lizzie, look at the positives—I have no parents, yours are in a home, we’re never going to have to do that awful juggle-the-parents on Christmas Day that other couples have to. I am selfish, but I’m not that selfish that I would keep you from them. We can do it,’ he said. ‘I’m here, aren’t I? On Valentine’s Day.’

He was.

‘I want to be with you,’ Leo said. ‘That’s all I know. I’ve never come close to feeling the way I do and I never thought I would. It’s true, what you said. I’ve messed up every relationship I’ve ever been in—I just know that I’m not going to mess things up with you.

‘I love you,’ he confessed. ‘I don’t know what you do to me, Lizzie—I practically told Ethan I loved him last week …’

‘You should tell him properly.’

‘Yeah, one day.’ He looked at her. ‘You know there can be no secrets between a husband and wife …’

‘Oh, Leo, you shan’t get me that way, I’ve been nursing long enough to know there are plenty of secrets between most husbands and wives.’ Then she was serious. ‘Please don’t ask me about Ethan.’

She watched his jaw tighten, wondered if he’d falter at their first hurdle.

‘I won’t.’ He gave her his word and looked up as Howard came over with their desserts.

‘Not for us, thanks,’ Leo said.

‘But you ordered three courses.’

‘We’re full.’

Leo took her by the hand and led her up the stairs. ‘You can’t do that,’ Lizzie hissed.

‘Well, if I’m going to be staying here at times, they’d better get used to me—I can do that!’ Leo said, and Lizzie glowed inside as she realised he’d meant every word he’d said back there. The thought of him staying here with her, through all the difficult times to come, made the world suddenly so much easier.

‘Let’s melt those sheets,’ Leo said, as she let him into her room. ‘Oh, Lizzie.’ He tutted as he went through her bag of contraband and found her wine and chocolate and tragic movie, and she winced when he pulled out the tissues. ‘You did miss me.’

He kissed her to the bed, and she wasn’t sure if it was the nylon sheets or just the Leo effect but every hair on her skin stood up as he undressed her as they slid into bed.

‘Like an old married couple,’ Leo said, only he wasn’t leaning over to turn off the lamp; instead, he was picking it up.

‘What are you doing?’ Lizzie asked.

‘I forgot my ophthalmoscope. I’m going to find out what you’ve had done and then you’re going to tell me who did it.’

He parted her legs and the Hewitts would have had a fit if they’d known where he shone that lamp. ‘Labiaplasty?’ Leo said. ‘If it was, she did a fantastic job.’ Lizzie was laughing so hard, turned on so much and so just happy that she nearly forget to tell him the truth.

‘No,’ Lizzie said, as his fingers admired the handiwork. ‘I mean, no, I haven’t had any surgery.’

‘You lied?’ Leo was a touch incredulous. Of all the things he’d wondered, Lizzie lying to him hadn’t entered his head, and to Leo’s surprise he found himself smiling. ‘You looked me in the eye and you lied.’

‘I did!’ Lizzie smiled back.

‘Why?’

‘I wanted the job, I thought you might think I would be a bit more empathetic to the patients.’

He laughed and then he was serious because a more empathetic person you could not meet.

Only Lizzie could have saved his heart.

Yes, the bed creaked terribly and Lizzie didn’t come quietly. She wanted to wear dark glasses as they sat the next morning eating breakfast.

‘What time are you checking out?’ Mrs Hewitt asked, as Lizzie blushed into her scrambled eggs.

‘Actually, if there’s availability,’ Leo said, ‘we’d like to stay tonight. Just the one room, though.’

‘Tonight?’ Lizzie glanced up at him. She’d been sure they’d be leaving tyre marks in his haste to get away. Instead, he wasn’t rushing her.

Leo took himself off after breakfast and, just a little back to front, did the right thing, asking Thomas for Lizzie’s hand in marriage.

He couldn’t blame Thomas for his caution.

Leo knew his own reputation.

‘I understand your reservations,’ Leo said, ‘but I love your daughter and I want you to know I would never hurt her.’

‘See you don’t, then.’

It was her perfect day—they walked along the beach and went on all the rides on the pier and then she took Leo for coffee at her favourite place. They walked past the house where she had grown up and, after a suitable pause, returned to the nursing home, where Lizzie shared the lovely news with her parents. Then it was back to the Hewitts’ B&B for an afternoon in bed and to the future that was waiting for them.

‘I miss our game,’ Leo said.

‘What game?’ Lizzie asked, as he started to undress her, those beautiful blue eyes examining her.

‘Our game.’

‘Oh, that one.’ She smiled. ‘There’s nothing to miss, Leo. We’ve only just started.’