through on your mobile and I didn’t want to leave a message. So I tried the house you used to share.’
‘What did they say?’
‘That you’d gone abroad. That you wouldn’t want to speak to me.’
She took a deep breath and a gulp of her wine.
‘I didn’t blame you, Thea. I’d half expected you to refuse to speak to me.’
She shook her head. ‘That was … I got drunk one night and said it to the girls I lived with. I didn’t mean it. Of course I would have spoken to you.’
‘Where did you go?’ Suddenly it was important that he knew.
Her gaze was on his face now and her cheeks were starting to burn red. ‘I went to Bangladesh. It was my last summer before I started work and I thought it would be nice to drop in and see where you were staying. For a bit of a holiday …’
It was all falling into place. An exquisitely timed tragedy. He had left Thea, planning to spend a fortnight with his family before going to Bangladesh. And in that fortnight everything had changed. Sam and Claire had died. And however casual she made it sound, there was no doubt in his mind that Thea had decided to go to Bangladesh to find him.
‘I’m sorry I missed you.’
‘It wasn’t your fault. I’m just sorry that I never knew about Sam and Claire.’
He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but he couldn’t find a way to tell her that. It was almost a relief when she reached briskly for the pile of papers that she’d propped on the windowsill behind her.
‘Thanks for tonight, but I’m really tired. Could I call you tomorrow morning to discuss our reply to the newspaper article?’
That would be good. There were far too many questions swimming in his head at the moment to concentrate on anything. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll be around all morning.’
Thea felt sick. She stopped the car, wondering whether it would be better to reach for the empty shopping bag under the seat, stick her fingers down her throat and get it over with.
Probably not. The feeling was in her chest and nothing to do with her stomach.
He’d had good reasons for not being on that plane. He’d called her. If she’d known either of those things, what had happened next might have been very different. Instead, she’d been too proud to contact Lucas and had continued on a path that would lead to disgrace.
She switched on the car radio and then thought better of it, punching the ‘off’ button. The radio had turned into something like a game of Russian roulette, never knowing whether the next track would be the one which reminded her of Lucas.
Just drive. Go home. Get some sleep. She had put her life back together again, piece by piece, but Thea knew that it was still a shaky structure. And Lucas had already broken her heart once. Long and slow, bit by bit, from the moment he’d left her to the time she’d realised he wasn’t in Bangladesh. If she was going to keep it all together now, she had to somehow stop caring about him.
Week Three
SHE LOOKED LOVELY, almost like the young woman he’d once known. Apart from her hair, and Lucas was getting used to that and actually thought it rather suited her. It was just that he remembered when it had tumbled down her back. When he’d let it slide through his fingers. The night she’d lain on her back while he’d brushed it out in a shining circle around her head. It had been as if they’d been making love on golden sheets.
No more fairy tales. Thea was more like a pageboy than a princess now, seeming to go out of her way to be inconspicuous. A ferocious, committed pageboy, and today a rather glamorous one, who wore a neat, dark jacket and skirt instead of her usual trousers. Her gleaming hair was brushed in a don’t-mess-with-me arrangement and she had a little make-up on. Small changes that were killing Lucas, because at this moment all he wanted to do was mess with her.
The press conference was at two that afternoon, and Thea had disappeared just when he wanted to do a final run-through of the answers to all the expected questions. No one in the department had seen her, she wasn’t in the canteen, and the incident team’s office was empty.
Not quite empty. There was no answer when he called her name but a rustle and the sound of laboured breathing from behind a door in the corner told him that someone was there. Lucas didn’t think he’d ever actually opened that door, reckoning that it was probably a cupboard of some sort.
It was. A large store cupboard, intended to hold the medical supplies for the adjoining clinic. When Lucas opened the door, Thea was perched precariously on the windowsill, breathing into a paper bag.
‘Thea?’ He advanced towards her and she almost shrank from him, her breath coming faster now. Lucas stopped, three feet away from her. ‘Are you all right?’
Of course she wasn’t. Her breathing was fast and irregular, overfilling her lungs with oxygen. The paper bag didn’t seem to be helping at all, because she could hardly hold it to her lips.
She couldn’t speak but she motioned him away angrily, as if it was his fault that he’d seen the weakness behind her veneer. Lucas put the sheaf of papers he was carrying onto one of the shelves that lined the wall and walked slowly towards her. Even that seemed to spook her.
‘Can you walk?’
She ignored him completely. Even if she could walk, she obviously wasn’t intending to go anywhere with him. Lucas turned and flipped the lock on the door, wondering how incriminating it would look if anyone found them locked in a store cupboard together. As long as her boss didn’t hear of it, he was probably in the clear.
‘You’re all right.’ He held the crumpled paper bag to her lips. ‘Just breathe.’
Her eyes were wild, the way he’d used to love them, but she did what he asked. Lucas counted out the breaths, his hand light on her back as reassurance, and slowly she began to calm.
‘Would you like some water?’
She just looked at him so Lucas fetched the bottle of water he’d been carrying with his papers. Held it to her lips and she sipped a little, gratefully.
‘What’s going on, Thea?’ Once upon a time she would’ve told him. Things were different now.
‘I’m okay. Just a little tired.’
‘Yeah. Pull the other one.’ He said the words gently. ‘Tired doesn’t give you panic attacks.’
‘I just need a minute. Don’t fuss.’
So that was how she intended to play it. As a doctor, there was little more that Lucas could do, and he had no intention of rekindling their relationship. Nothing said they couldn’t be friends, though. He sat down beside her on the windowsill, put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug.
He felt her stiffen and then relax. Lucas had thought he remembered how
