The girl did not respond to her touch, refused to meet her eyes. She was nineteen, nearly twenty, but she looked so young, so pathetic, so thin…
She’d had this picture in her head of Daisy as a grown-up version of the little girl she remembered. Blonde, pretty. Happy. A young woman with a family. Someone she could love. Who would love her. Not this sorry creature.
‘Is she hurt?’ she asked, turning to the nurse.
‘The doctor couldn’t find anything. No bumps, no bruises, no sign of self-harm.’
Self-harm? She swallowed.
‘Is she anorexic?’ She could hardly bring herself to say the word, but she needed to know the worst.
‘She’s pregnant, Miss Davenport.’
‘Pregnant!’
‘She just passed out. It happens, although it would be less likely if she was eating regularly, had a little TLC.’ Then, ‘I thought you knew her?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know her.’
At least she thought she did, but there was no connection, no instant bonding, none of the emotional attachment that she’d anticipated, hoped for. But then, why would Daisy have any reason to feel that way about her?
‘It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen her,’ she added, when the nurse continued to look at her, clearly expecting a little more. ‘Are you admitting her?’
‘This is a hospital, not a B &B.’
B &B? Bed and breakfast…‘She can’t wait until morning for something to eat!’
‘We’re not an all night cafe, either.’
‘No.’ Belle flushed with embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry. I can see you’re rushed off your feet. I’ll go and organise some transport, get out of your way.’ She glanced at Daisy, but there was no reaction, no pleasure, no rejection, just a blank stare. ‘If that’s all right?’
‘If you want her, she’s all yours.’ She turned to the girl, who had not moved, and said, ‘It seems as if it’s your lucky day.’
That earned the nurse a glare. She was clearly immune because she just said, ‘Take it or leave it, but I need this room for someone who’s actually sick.’
Daisy sat up slowly, lowered feet encased in a pair of scarred and muddy black sports shoes, then slid to the floor, picked up her coat and headed for the door without a word.
The nurse raised a rather-you-than-me eyebrow in Belle’s direction. Belle shrugged and then, realising that she was in danger of losing her sister all over again, hurried after her.
‘Wait.’ Then, when she kept going, head down as she strode towards the door, ‘Daisy. Please…’
‘I didn’t ask them to call you,’ she said, without stopping.
‘I know.’ Belle hurried alongside her, struggling to keep up in her high heels and long dress. ‘But I’m here. Look, just wait while I call a cab.’ Daisy finally stopped, but still did not look at her. ‘Sit down. Or get a cup of something hot from the machine. Chocolate. That will warm you…’
‘I haven’t got any money.’
‘Take this.’
Belle turned. Ivo was standing behind her, extending a handful of change in Daisy’s direction, but he was looking at her. After what she’d said to him, she hadn’t expected to see him ever again.
Maybe that had been her intention. To drive him away.
‘You left your bag behind,’ he said, before she could ask. ‘Jace came after you, but we’d already gone so he dropped it off at the house. Manda phoned me. She knew you’d need your keys.’
‘I…yes.’
Only then did he turn to Daisy. ‘We’ve met before.’
She didn’t reply, just stalked off towards the door.
‘When?’ Belle demanded. ‘When have you seen her before?’
‘She’s the girl who set off your car alarm the other day.’
So close. She’d been so close…‘You said she had green hair.’
‘That was four days ago. And actually I think I prefer the blue,’ he said. ‘It goes with her eyes.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Nothing.’ Then, ‘Hadn’t we better go after her?’
CHAPTER SIX
She’d said the words in an attempt to drive him away and she suspected that he was using ‘we’ now in an attempt to show her how wrong she was.
He needn’t have bothered.
Whatever happened they would always, in her mind, her heart, be connected for eternity-in the memory of every touch, kiss, the sweet caresses that drove every other thought from her mind. In those moments when nothing else existed.
‘Belle?’
‘Yes,’ she said, catching her breath. Then, as they emerged through the sliding doors, ‘Where’s she gone?’
‘Not far,’ Ivo said with certainty.
Belle ignored the cynical undertone-he didn’t understand, how could he?-and said, ‘We’ve got to find her. It’s cold. She’s hungry…’ She couldn’t quite bring herself to say what else she was.
‘She’s there, look. On the other side of the road.’
Wishing she was wearing something more sensible on her feet, something more sensible full stop, Belle ran down the steps. Ivo was there before her. ‘Get in the car.’
She took no notice, side-stepping him, lifted her skirts as she began to run.
‘Daisy, wait…Where are you going?’ she demanded breathlessly, dodging cars to cross the road. Just wanting to hold her, keep her safe.
Then, as Daisy paused and turned, instead of reaching for her, she found herself held back by a force field of anger so powerful that she took a step back.
‘Why did it have to be you? You abandoned me!’ Then, pitiably, ‘I wasn’t looking for you. I was looking for my father.’
‘Why?’ The word was shocked out of her. ‘Why would you want to find him? He didn’t just abandon Mum and me, he abandoned you too. Everything that happened was his fault…’
‘Liar!’
‘It’s true!’ And then, seeing Daisy’s face crumple, Belle would have done anything to call the bitter words back. She’d been a baby when it had happened. She didn’t have a clue. How could she? All she knew was that her mother had died, her sister had abandoned her. Who else was there for her but some fantasy figure of a father? What other hope did she have?
The rain had stopped but a raw wind was whistling down the narrow street and, shivering, desperate to make it right, call the words back, Belle fought back all the bad memories. If that was what Daisy wanted, if that was what she needed, then she’d find her father for her.
‘We’d have a better chance of finding him together, Daisy.’
‘Oh, right. Like you want that.’
‘It’s what you want that matters to me.’
Ivo pulled up alongside them, got out of the car and took off his coat, wrapping it, warm from his body, around her shoulders, as if she were the one who needed looking after. As if he were the only person in the world capable of doing it.
Maybe he was.
And she heard Simone’s voice saying, ‘Ivo could help you…’
