‘Alastair…’
And all of a sudden things had changed. There was no hint of the passion-or the anger-of the night before. There was only fear in her voice, and the fear was raw and real.
‘What is it?’ He was sitting up, and she was kneeling, still in the lovely negligee of last night, her curls tumbled and wild and her eyes huge in the pre-dawn light.
‘Alastair…’
‘Just say it.’
‘Alastair, it’s your mother.’
Marguerite had had a heart attack. The call had come through to the resort, and the manager had come to the cottage to break the news.
‘My…my husband’s gone for a dawn walk,’ Penny-Rose had managed. ‘Just tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll find him.’
So now she told Alastair what the manager had told her.
‘Marguerite went back to Paris the day after we were married,’ she explained gently. ‘But apparently she’s had chest pains, and they’ve been growing worse. Finally she made an appointment to see her local doctor, but by the time she reached him it was a full-stage heart attack. She’s in Intensive Care.’
‘I’ll go.’ Alastair was rising, and Penny-Rose was right there with him.
‘I’ll come with you.’
But Alastair was no longer seeing her. His thoughts were only on his mother. ‘I’ll find the manager and see how fast I can get back to Paris.’
Getting back to Paris was easier said than done. The supply boat pulled into the island once a week, bringing the guests from the mainland. Otherwise they came by helicopter.
‘And the hire chopper’s out of action,’ the manager said apologetically. By the time Penny-Rose and Alastair reached his office, he’d already made enquiries on their behalf. ‘The engine’s being reconditioned. I’m afraid it’s useless until Thursday.’
‘That’s two days.’ Alastair took a deep breath. ‘You mean there’s no way I can get off the island until then? I can pay the boat.’
‘The boat does the rounds of the islands. It’ll take at least a day to get back here. But if I could make a suggestion…’
‘Anything.’
‘One of the outer islands is owned by a reclusive fisherman.’ The manager gave a deprecating smile. ‘A rich, reclusive fisherman. He’s somewhat of an eccentric. He lives alone and doesn’t socialise. But he owns his own helicopter.’
Alastair frowned. ‘Will he rent it out?’
‘Maybe, but it only holds one passenger.’ The manager cast an apologetic glance at Penny-Rose. ‘And while I might be able to persuade him to make a mercy dash for one, I doubt he’d take kindly to doing more.’
‘That’s fine. It’s only me that’s going.’
‘But…’ Penny-Rose flinched. ‘Alastair, I need to go with you.’
‘There’s no room,’ he said briefly. ‘And no need either.’
He didn’t need her. Of course he didn’t. Penny-Rose’s face tightened. But it was Marguerite she was worried about. Wasn’t it?
Damn it, she was worried about both of them. And if anything happened to Marguerite and she wasn’t by Alastair’s side…
‘I’d still like to come.’
‘I’m afraid you can’t, ma’am,’ the resort manager apologised. ‘At least, not straight away.’ He lifted the telephone and looked enquiringly at Alastair. ‘The plane from Suva to Europe leaves at nine this morning. That means there’s very little time. If I make fast arrangements I can have you on it.’
‘Do it,’ Alastair growled. He turned and found Rose watching him. She looked…
Hell, she looked like she’d been kicked. And like she was expecting to be kicked again.
‘The kids are booked back to Australia on Saturday,’ he told her, his voice gentling. ‘That’s when the boat calls. You can’t cut it short. You know this is the holiday they’ve always dreamed of, and so have you.’
He couldn’t resist then. He put a hand out to trace the outline of her cheek, and if it had been meant to comfort her, then who could blame him if he took a modicum of comfort himself? ‘Have a wonderful time. Come back when they leave.’
‘You don’t want me.’
‘I don’t…need you.’
And that was that.
‘Belle?’
‘Alastair…’ It was early evening in Paris.
Alastair telephoned Belle’s cellphone while he sat in the departure lounge at Suva, and she answered on the first ring. There was a party of some sort in the background. He could hear laughter and voices and the clink of glasses…
‘Alastair, what is it?’
Briefly he outlined what had happened, and she was horrified.
‘Oh, Alastair, that’s dreadful. You poor darling…’
He didn’t want sympathy for himself. That was the last thing he needed. He wanted tangible help.
‘Belle, she’s alone. You know we have no family in Paris, and my only aunt’s in Yorkshire and too frail to travel. It’ll take me twenty-four hours to get there. Please…can you go to her?’
‘Visit her in hospital, you mean.’
‘Yes,’ he said gratefully. ‘Belle, I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you stay with her until I get there? I can’t bear to think of her being alone. Of her being in pain…’
‘Of course I’ll go, darling.’ He heard her pause and speak an aside to someone in the background, and then she came on the line again. ‘Sorry about that. Damn clients. Just tell me what hospital she’s in and as soon as my guests leave I’ll go.’
‘Not now?’
‘Alastair, these are important clients-’
He said something exceedingly rude about the clients.
She didn’t appreciate it. ‘Alastair! There’s no need to be coarse. I’ll go as soon as I can.’
And that was all he could do.
Twenty minutes later, the jet lifted off from the international airport, and Alastair was finally away. The plane circled the islands underneath as it veered to face Europe.
And Alastair stared down at the turquoise sea and imagined his wife. Rose. She’d be practising her swimming, he thought, and wondered if she’d have made it past five strokes by the next time he saw her.
She would-and he’d miss seeing her try.
The thought was suddenly almost unbearable. He stared down into the water, willing himself to see, but it was too far away.
But he stayed looking for a very long time.
But Penny-Rose wasn’t swimming. As Alastair’s helicopter took off for the mainland she sat and watched until the sound had faded to nothing, the seabirds had returned to reclaim the patch of beach where the helicopter had landed and the machine was far out of sight.
Yet still she watched.
Have a wonderful time, he’d said.
How could she do that when Marguerite might be dying? When anything could be happening on the other side of the world.
On
