I almost can’t take it. I’m keyed up with nerves.
“Is he still… angry with me?” I falter.
Suze just looks at me for a moment, the rain pounding down on her hair and running down her face.
“Bex, take it from me. He’s not angry with you.”
I lift the phone up to my ear, wincing slightly as it presses on my bruised face.
“Luke?”
“Oh my God! Becky. Thank Christ.”
He’s all distant and crackly and I can hardly make him out. But as soon as I hear his familiar voice, it’s like the whole of the last few days comes to a head. Something is welling up inside me. My eyes are hot and my throat feels choked.
I want him. I want him, and I want to go home.
“Thank God you’re safe.” Luke sounds more overwrought than I’ve ever heard him. “I was out of my mind… ”
“I know,” I say with a gulp. “I’m sorry… ” Tears are spilling over onto my cheeks. I can barely speak. “Luke, I’m really sorry for everything—”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. Jesus. I thought…” He stops, and I can hear him breathing hard. “Just… don’t ever go missing again, OK?”
“I won’t.” I wipe my eyes furiously with my hand. “God, I wish you were here.”
“I’ll be there. I’ll be out as soon as the storm passes. Nathan’s offered me his private jet. He’s been absolutely tremendous… ” To my dismay, his voice is descending into a hissing crackle.
“Luke?”
“… hotel…”
He’s breaking up. Nothing is making any sense.
“I love you,” I call hopelessly as the phone goes dead. I look up to see all the others watching with compassion. Tarquin pats my shoulder kindly with a dripping hand.
“Come on, Becky. We’d better get you into the helicopter.”
Twenty-three
THE HOSPITAL IS all a bit of a blur. There’s lots of light and noise and being asked questions and wheeled around on a trolley, and eventually it turns out I’ve broken my ankle in two places and they’ve got to set my leg — plus give me stitches where I cut my forehead and check I haven’t got tetanus or mad cow disease or anything. While they’re doing all that, they give me an injection of some stuff that makes me feel a bit dopey, and when everything’s done I flop back on my pillows, suddenly exhausted. God, it’s nice to be somewhere clean and warm and white.
In the distance I can hear someone reassuring Jess that she didn’t do any damage by moving me, and then telling Suze several times that a full body scan won’t be needed in this case, and no, they’re not being cavalier with my health. And as it happens, he is the top man in the county.
“Becky?” I look up in a daze, to see Tarquin advancing toward my bed, holding out a mobile phone. “Luke again.”
“Luke?” I say into the receiver. “Hi! Guess what? I’ve got a broken leg!” I look admiringly at my plaster cast, which is propped up on a support. I have always wanted a plaster cast.
“I heard. My poor darling. Are they looking after you OK? Do you have everything you need?”
“Er… I think so. You know…” With no warning I give a huge yawn. “Actually… I’m pretty tired. I might go to sleep.”
“I wish I was there.” Luke’s voice is gentle and loving. “Becky… just tell me one thing. Why did you go running off to the North without telling anyone?”
I blink at the phone. He doesn’t know why?
“Because I needed help, of course,” I say matter-of-factly. By now, I’ve almost come to terms with the situation. “Our marriage was in tatters. Jess was the only person I could turn to.”
Luke seems to be struck dumb.
“Our marriage was in what?” he says at last.
“Tatters!” My voice wobbles. “You know it was! It was awful! You didn’t even kiss me goodbye!”
“Darling, I was pissed off. We had a row! That doesn’t mean our marriage is in tatters.”
“Oh. Well, I thought it was. I thought it was all over. I thought you wouldn’t care where I was.”
“Oh, Becky.” Luke’s voice has gone all strange, like he’s trying not to laugh. Or possibly cry. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through?”
“No.” I bite my lip, hot with shame. “Luke, I’m really sorry. I… I didn’t think… I never realized—”
He cuts me off. “Anyway, you’re safe. That’s all that matters now. You’re safe.”
I’m feeling totally guilty. He’s being so nice about it. But what kind of hell have I put him through? And there he is, stuck on Cyprus… In a rush of emotion I clutch the phone more tightly to my ear.
“Luke… come home. I know you’re hating it out there. I know you’re miserable. And it’s all my fault. Just leave stupid Nathan Temple and his horrible hotel. Find some excuse. You can blame me.”
There’s a bit of a pause.
“Yesss,” says Luke. “There’s something I need to say about that. I think that quite possibly—” He breaks off again. “You were right. And I was… wrong.”
What? Did I hear that properly?
“I was prejudiced,” Luke says. “Now that I’ve gotten to know Nathan, he’s a very bright guy. Great commercial mind. We’re getting on well.”
“You’re getting on well? But… what about him having a conviction?”
“Ah,” says Luke, sounding sheepish. “Nathan explained about that. He was defending one of his motel staff from a drunken guest when it happened. He ‘went a little far,’ as he put it. He says it was a mistake. And I believe him.”
My head is throbbing. I can’t quite take all this in.
“In a lot of ways he’s a guy after my own heart,” Luke continues. “He told me the other night why he set up his motel chain. It was after he was refused entry to a smart hotel because he wasn’t wearing a tie. He went straight to a pub and sketched out a business plan for Value Motels. Had twenty up and running in a year. You have to admire that drive.”
“I don’t believe it,” I say, rubbing my forehead in a daze. “You like him.”
“I do like him.” Luke pauses. “And… he’s been tremendous over this whole affair. Couldn’t have been kinder. He stayed up all night with me, listening for news.”
I wince in guilt as I imagine the two of them in dressing gowns, waiting by the phone.
God, I am never, ever going to disappear again.
I mean, not that I was planning to. But, you know.
“What about the hotel?” I ask. “Is it tacky?”
“The hotel is supremely tacky,” Luke says, sounding cheerful. “But you were right. It’s top-quality tack.”
I can’t help a little giggle, which turns into an enormous yawn. I can really feel the drugs kicking in now.
“So… I was right all along,” I say, my voice bleary. “It was a brilliant networking coup.”
“It was a brilliant networking coup,” agrees Luke. “Becky… I’m sorry.” He suddenly sounds more serious. “For that and… a lot of things.” He hesitates. “I realize you’ve had it hard these last few weeks. I got too obsessed with the Arcodas deal. I haven’t supported you. And I didn’t appreciate what a crash it was for you, coming back to Britain.”
As his words filter into my brain they sound weirdly familiar.
Has he been talking to Jess?
