Page 3 of Second Chance Summer
The vicious comments seemed to leap out at her, bringing nausea to her throat and sweat trickling down her back. She mustn’t look. If she fainted again, Richie would piggyback her to A&E himself. How could people be so vile, so vicious …
Sinking back in her chair, Lily moaned softly. Her head throbbed but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
The screen went blank.
‘Oh, no!’
She thumped at the esc key. ‘Richie! What’s happened to the computer?’
‘Bonjour.’
A very tall, stern-looking man stood behind the monitor, holding up a cable with a plug visible at one end of it.
‘Étienne! I could have been halfway through a billion-pound deal.’
‘Were you?’
‘No, actually, I was––’ Knowing her visitor wouldn’t approve of her doom scrolling, Lily stopped herself. She massaged her temples. ‘What are you doing here?’ She arched an eyebrow, hopefully in an ironic way, then winced. ‘As if I don’t know. Did Richie call you? Oh, God, you weren’tatwork, were you?’
‘No, I was on my way home.’
‘I wish you hadn’t come. I’m sorry you were called out …’
She glanced over to the door expecting to find her PA peering through the crack, but he’d made himself scarce.Her brother-in-law, however, had dropped the cable on the floor and perched on her desk, staring at her.
Étienne could look spectacularly stern: anyone who didn’t know him to be the kindest of men might be a little intimidated by his serious expression and the tribal tattoos adorning most of his visible skin.
‘Someone needs to save you from yourself,’ he said, his face softening into concern. ‘What would Cara have said if she’d seen you like this?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘She’d have told you to stop working yourself into an early grave.’
‘Pshh,’ Lily snorted, then regretted it. ‘I’m only thirty-four. I don’t smoke, I have a couple of glasses of wine a week, and I exercise. Usually.’
Truth was, she hadn’t troubled the gym for weeks and her exercise consisted of dashing between Tube stations. Lately she’d had to forgo even that activity as she’d spent several nights sleeping on her office couch.
‘Cara would want you to be happy. To live well.’ Étienne’s eyebrows knitted together in the way her sister had always said made her want to drag him off to bed. Being honest, Lily only thought it made him look cross, not brooding, but then she wasn’t the one who’d fallen for him hook, line and sinker while working in a nursing placement on a remote French Polynesian island.
‘It’s not fair to put words into Cara’s mouth when she can’t speak for herself. And you might be a doctor but you’re notmydoctor.’
He didn’t smile. This was serious, thought Lily. ‘Me being your doctor would certainly be unethical but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you my advice. I heard what happened – you passed out, didn’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t say that …’
‘Did you lose consciousness?’
‘Not completely. Things went a bit woozy, I’ll admit, like a veil had been drawn across my eyes.’
‘So, youdidlose consciousness?’
‘No. Icrumpledaccording to Richie, but he does have a sense of the dramatic.’
‘I’d trust his account of what happened a lot more than I’d trust yours,’ Étienne said tartly. ‘Sounds like vasovagal syncope.’
‘Vaso-syn-what?’ Lily asked. ‘Is it serious?’
‘Vaso-vagal-syn-co-pe,’ Étienne enunciated slowly. ‘It means fainting.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Look, if you’ve been hunched over the computer for hours without proper food, you probably fainted when you jumped up suddenly. Stress doesn’t help. Added to which, you look pale and worn out.’
