Third Time Lucky Read online

  ‘Emma, please try not to worry …’

  She glares at me. ‘I hate it when people say, “Don’t worry,” because it usually means the exact opposite!’

  ‘Your brother has just been taken into theatre again …’ Sister Dixon cuts in, gently but firmly.

  ‘Again? Why?’ Emma’s eyes are huge.

  I leave the nurse to fill her in on the latest news. ‘Oh God, please, you have to save him.’

  ‘The surgeons are working on him now; they’ll do everything they can, Miss Hunt, I promise.’

  ‘I want to see him!’ Emma’s voice rises further in pitch and her eyes widen even more. Oh shit, clearly we’re not doing a great job of reassuring her.

  Sister Dixon, however, is a rock of calm. ‘He’s only just gone into theatre so I’m afraid you can’t see him, but as soon as we have the situation stable and he’s in recovery, you can visit him.’

  Helen puts her arm around Emma. ‘Try not to upset yourself. Alexander wouldn’t want you to worry like this.’

  ‘Worry? He almost fucking died! He might still!’

  ‘Why don’t you come into the relatives’ room?’ Sister Dixon ushers us towards a side door but Emma starts crying, and I don’t blame her.

  The decor in the relatives’ room is probably meant to be calm and soothing, but I find the pale-green walls, retirement-home-style easy chairs and fake lily arrangement – not to mention a poster about counselling – have the opposite effect on me.

  Helen joins us while Sister Dixon tells us a little more about Alexander’s problems and what’s being done to fix them. I guess I’m relieved that someone can explain his condition more coherently than I would, although I’m not sure any of us feel reassured afterwards. It will be a couple of hours before we know if the latest surgery has located the source of the blood loss and stopped it.

  After our chat, the nurse shows Emma to the bathroom so she can wash her face, leaving me with Helen. Though she treats me with a degree of formality I’ve found hard to get used to, I also know she’s a kind, warm woman who genuinely cares for the Hunt family.

  ‘Do you want me to get you a cup of tea?’ Helen asks with a concerned expression that makes me wonder just how wrung out I look.

  ‘No thanks, I’ve had some already, but I can get you one.’

  She shakes her head. ‘Oh, I can’t let you do that, Miss Cusack.’

  ‘Helen, if you carry on calling me Miss Cusack, I’m going to have to have Alexander call a staff meeting when he returns to Falconbury and order everyone to call me Lauren,’ I joke.

  She gives a rueful smile and I notice how tired she looks. ‘Old habits die hard but, actually, I’d love to see that happen.’ She sighs. ‘I’d love to see him come home at all.’

  ‘I know.’ I try to smile because I feel sorry for her. Running Falconbury can’t be a picnic, especially with Alexander away so often and needing so much support from her and her husband, Robert, when he is there.

  ‘I’d really like it if you could call me Lauren and I’m going to fetch you a cup of tea, whether you like it or not.’

  Biting back her refusal, Helen finally nods. ‘Thanks.’

  In truth, I’m grateful for something – anything – to occupy my thoughts, even for a few seconds, so I walk over to the machine. ‘Which is it to be? Dishwater or paint stripper?’

  ‘Paint stripper, please.’

  I feed coins into the slot and eventually a nozzle spurts rusty liquid into a plastic cup, which I hand to Helen.

  ‘Thanks … Lauren.’

  ‘You may not thank me when you try it … but I ought to thank you, for dropping everything and bringing Emma here. She must have been in an awful state, but I couldn’t tell you any more than I knew at the time. I know Alexander will appreciate it.’

  ‘She was very shocked and upset – we do have to confront we all were – but you can understand that. Poor Emma, she’s been a troubled soul lately. Her father’s death was a huge blow and it’s been difficult for Alexander to support her the way he’d want to. We’d hoped he’d take a sabbatical from his regiment while he did his master’s at Oxford, but Robert and I both guessed he was still on active service, rather than attending training camps. He hides his feelings, but we know him too well by now to be fooled.’

  This statement is said with a world-weary resignation that is probably the closest I’ve ever come to hearing Helen give any hint of her real feelings about working for the Hunts.

  ‘Since General Hunt died, he was meant to be on leave but I think he may have volunteered for this latest mission.’

  Helen sips her tea and tries to hide her grimace. ‘I would have thought he and Emma had more than enough to cope with as it is. With his work, dealing with his father’s estate, and his master’s degree, he’s under enormous pressure …’

  From the way her voice tails off and the fact she’s resorted to the disgusting tea again, I guess she thinks she’s already said too much about life above stairs at Falconbury at the moment.

  ‘I’m aware of the pressure he’s under,’ I say, remembering the times when I’ve been on the receiving end of the fallout. No matter how many times I’ve reminded myself that I came to Oxford to focus on my own master’s, to soak up the atmosphere and just have fun away from my parents’ expectations, no matter how many times I’ve vowed to break away from the drama of Alexander’s world, I’ve only been sucked further into it. Now, with him lying there, in genuine danger, and with Emma to care for, I feel overwhelmed with responsibility.

  Yet there have been good times, wonderful times when we’ve shared each other’s beds, lost ourselves in the sex, the hot, wonderful, insane sex … yet if it was just sex that kept us coming back to each other, surely I wouldn’t be here now?

  ‘You know, I’m happy to stay as long as you need me.’ Helen’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

  ‘That’s really kind of you, but I’ll be OK and I’m sure you have a lot to do at the house. I’ll call you when there’s any news or if I need any help.’

  She sips more of her tea with an ill-disguised shudder. ‘Do you want me to call the de Courceys? They’re Alexander’s next of kin after Emma.’

  ‘I’m not sure. I don’t know them that well, only Rupert, but …’ I don’t know what to say next because while I know Helen means well, the de Courceys are the last people I need to contend with. I’ve only seen Rupert’s parents briefly at a ball and at General Hunt’s funeral. Frankly, it’s all-out war between Rupert and me. He has done everything he could to cause trouble between me and Alexander.

  ‘You might find them a huge support. I think you’d like Mrs de Courcey – that’s General Hunt’s sister,’ says Helen. I notice she doesn’t include Mr de Courcey in her statement. ‘She and Lady Hunt were very good friends.’

  ‘I don’t think I spoke to her at the funeral.’

  ‘No, but if you want me to call her, I will. You can’t be expected to deal with this on your own.’

  ‘I guess not,’ I say softly. ‘They have a right to know their nephew’s been injured, so maybe you should call them.’

  Helen deposits the half-full cup on a table and picks up her handbag. ‘I’ll go outside and do that now, but please can you let me know the instant that you have any news?’

  ‘Of course I will. Thanks again.’

  With a brisk kiss, Helen is gone, leaving me staring at the door to Alexander’s room, feeling like a truck just ran over me.

  A few minutes later, Emma emerges from the bathroom. I hadn’t thought her face could grow any paler but she looks like a little grey ghost, almost transparent.

  ‘How are you?’

  She toes the floor tiles. ‘How do you think? I almost vommed.’

  She sniffs. I hand over a Kleenex as a tear trickles down her cheek. I’ve been doing a lot of Kleenex-handing for Emma lately.

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be OK,’ I say, aware of how pathetic that sounds.

  Emma barges on. ‘I don’t even kno
w why he’s here. I thought he was on some kind of training exercise, but you say it was a mission. Did he tell you where he was?’

  ‘Not where. He would never tell me that sort of detail, but he did hint it wasn’t an exercise. Beyond that, I know as much as you.’

  Which isn’t quite true. Alexander did hint that what he was doing was dangerous and unofficial but I’m not going to share that with Emma. She has enough on her plate as it is.

  She sniffs. ‘I so wish I could turn back the clock.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

  ‘I wish I could wipe out all that business with Henry Favell. Going off with him behind Alexander’s back, causing trouble between you and Alexander and making him so worried about me. I wish none of that stuff had happened.’

  ‘You can tell Alexander yourself when he gets better,’ I say firmly, unwilling to rake up the business with Henry Favell now and stress Emma out even more than she already is. Over the past two terms, Emma has been having an on-off fling with Favell, who’s ten years older and a grade-A shit. She told me about their relationship and begged me to keep it a secret from Alexander. Hoping the affair would fizzle out, and against my better judgement, I kept her confidence, but now I regret it deeply. Of course, when Alexander found out, everything exploded between us.

  ‘You should know that if anyone’s going to get through something like this, Alexander will,’ I say, hugging her again. ‘Before you know where you are, he’ll probably be outraged and furious that anything has dared stop him from doing what he wants to. When he comes round properly, I guess we’ll have trouble stopping him from getting out of bed and discharging himself.’

  Emma doesn’t smile but she gives a quiet snort so I know my silly comment hasn’t made things worse. How I would love to see him march out of here, ignoring the advice of the doctors, blazing mad and demanding the keys to his Range Rover. In reality I can’t see him driving it for a long time, or riding his horse – maybe he won’t even be able to go back to active service. Even though he’s said he’ll have to leave the army one day, for Emma’s sake and to run the estate, I know he’d hate to be forced out like this.

  ‘If he gets through this,’ she says, her voice wobbling, ‘at least he’ll be safe for a while.’

  ‘Yes, he will.’

  ‘You know, after what happened a few years ago, and Daddy dying, I’ve been worried sick about him getting killed and I’ll never believe what he says again. The last time he was shot, Daddy tried to convince me Alex had been hurt in a live firing accident on the army range, but I knew it wasn’t true.’

  ‘I’m sure they didn’t want to worry you.’

  She snorts. ‘Like, yeah, but I know the bullshit they come up with to hide what they’re really up to. I’m not stupid.’

  ‘Hey, I know what you mean, but I don’t think it would help either of us to know the details.’

  She sits in a chair and purses her lips. ‘I knew something like this would happen. I can’t lose him; I love him, no matter how much we fight and how angry he makes me.’

  As she sets her chin determinedly in true Hunt style, I want to throw my arms around her, but I just give her an encouraging smile.

  She curls her bottom lip over the top one, seeming very awkward. ‘Lauren, I know you and Alex split up because of me. It was my fault, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I won’t lie; when Alexander found out I’d been keeping your relationship with Henry a secret, he did kind of hit the roof. What did he tell you?’

  She bites her lip sheepishly. ‘I thought as much. He just muttered something about “fucking things up” at me after you left, then he told me he didn’t want to talk about you any more. He acted a bit weird to be honest, sort of trying too hard to be super nice to me. That scared me more than him being angry and shouting. It’s not like him, so I knew he was really upset.’

  This sounds so much like Alexander that I have to smile; and it is strangely encouraging, though I can’t put my finger on why.

  ‘Lauren … do you love Alex?’

  I am shocked that she would ask me this and I immediately dodge the question. ‘I … can’t answer a question like that now.’ But I grin and squeeze her hand.

  ‘Mmm,’ she muses, while watching me like a hawk might a mouse. ‘I bet you’re either too scared or too smart to get that deeply involved with him. I can understand that falling in love with my brother would be a bad idea for all kinds of reasons.’

  There she goes again, half child, half wise woman, an over-exaggerated look of innocence on her pretty elfin face. My head starts to throb; the Advil I took in the night wore off some time ago.

  ‘Right now I just want Alexander to wake up and get better.’ I stand up, desperate to do something, anything. ‘Shall we go and get a cup of coffee? I don’t know about you, but this place is giving me the creeps.’

  Opposite me, Emma fiddles with a sugar packet, and I notice a pile of others, empty and twisted into shapes. I’ve no idea what’s happened to the contents. The scent of cold coffee fills my nose. I glance at my watch. It’s been almost three hours since he was taken into theatre.

  ‘Do you think we should go to the nurse’s station and try and find out what’s going on?’ Emma asks.

  I want to but I’m almost too afraid to find out, though I daren’t admit it. For Emma’s sake, I try to sound positive. ‘It’s been a while so, yes, come on then.’

  We’re barely out of the cafe when Sister Dixon walks towards us, her expression brisk and businesslike.

  ‘How is he?’ Emma cries.

  ‘Good news. They think they’ve stopped the bleed, so fingers crossed for now.’ Emma lets out a little groan of relief while I seem to be unable to walk for a moment. ‘He’s already asked for you both. You should be able to see him shortly.’

  Emma exhales loudly. ‘Thank fuck. Oh, sorry!’

  Sister Dixon smiles. ‘Please don’t worry. I’ve heard a lot worse. I have to warn you that he’s still a little groggy because of the meds, but I think it will help him if he sees you. Please don’t stay too long, though, because he’s very tired, and don’t expect too much of him. He’s a little disorientated and you may find him … not quite himself.’

  ‘Oh, if you mean he’s being a royal pain in the arse, that’s normal,’ Emma says breezily. Life is simple for her now; all that matters is that her brother seems to be out of danger.

  My main feeling is massive relief but it’s tinged with apprehension. After all, our last words were bitter and harsh, and I’ve no idea what his reaction will be when he sees me.

  It’s a little while before we are allowed into Alexander’s room. He’s propped further up the pillows, one hand resting on the bedclothes, the other arm heavily strapped. Even though I’d prepared myself for the sight of his bruised and swollen face, I still wince inwardly, but for Emma’s sake, I put on a brave face.

  The nurse makes a quick adjustment to one of the machines and then leaves with a mouthed ‘Ten minutes, max’ to me. We tread softly, talking in whispers, because his eyes are closed and he seems to be asleep. Then, as we stand by the side of his bed, I see him trying to open his eyes, trying to focus on us.

  Emma reaches out a hand and strokes the bruised, swollen skin on his face tenderly. It seems to help him open his eyes and now he really does seem to be looking at us both. For a few seconds, I don’t think Alexander is certain who we are but then he croaks: ‘What kept you?’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Any flippant reply sticks in my throat at the sheer relief of hearing him speak again. Damn it, I hadn’t expected to feel this full of relief and anger and I don’t know what. I can’t help but smile.

  ‘What the hell have you done to yourself, Alex?’ Emma demands, like he just fell out of a tree or something.

  I can barely make out his low reply, squeezed out through swollen lips, but I think it’s: ‘You should see the other guys.’

  Emma sits down on a chair next to the bed and his fingers tighten around h
er hand. I stand behind her, unsure of my role, of what to say.

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ he says to me, in a voice that sounds as raw as he looks.

  ‘I’d like to say it’s a pleasure, but that would be lying,’ I say.

  He tries a smile; but I suspect it hurts so he gives a grunt instead. Now I’ve got over the relief of seeing him awake, I feel slightly sick again as I force myself to confront the mess his face is in. But mentally I punch the air, because the old Alexander is definitely there, as combative as ever.

  Emma whispers. ‘I love you.’

  Another grunt from Alexander that sounds like: ‘You too.’

  ‘Alex, please say you’ll never do this again …’

  He closes his eyes. ‘Not now, Emma.’

  ‘Swear that when you get out of here you’ll really think properly think about leaving the army.’

  I cringe inwardly but to my surprise he mutters, ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Promise.’

  ‘Emma, I can’t make decisions like that now.’ He squashes down a groan of pain.

  Emma puts her hand over her mouth. ‘Look at the state you’re in. You’ve been shot once, and now you’ve been stabbed and beaten and God knows what else and you still want to go back there. I can’t cope with this.’ She jumps up. ‘I’ll come back and see you later.’

  She hurries out, clearly fighting back tears, leaving me alone with Alexander. Now he seems to be out of danger, should I get out of his life again too?

  Instead I say: ‘That went well …’

  He collapses back on to the pillows, perspiration beading his forehead. ‘Shit, I never say anything right.’

  ‘It’s a tough time for Emma as well as you. She’ll calm down when she’s had time to get over the shock. You’re all she has left, and it must have been terrifying when Helen called her with the news. None of us really knew exactly how bad things were.’

  Those ice-blue eyes stare at me, weighing me up. Oh yes, Alexander Hunt is most definitely there. ‘I’m glad you came – I wasn’t sure you would. It’s good you were here for Emma.’