‘If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.’
* * *
‘Are you going to explain what’s happening, or leave me clueless in front of the doctor?’
I couldn’t meet Gideon’s eye. My insides were a churned-up mess of guilt and anxiety. I couldn’t blame him for sounding brusque.
‘She made me promise not to say anything,’ I said, speaking barely above a whisper despite there being no one else here. ‘I tried persuading her to tell you, but she kept saying she wasn’t ready.’
Gideon was vibrating with impatience. I couldn’t see any alternative but to keep going.
‘She has a rare form of lymphoma. It was diagnosed a few years ago but didn’t need any treatment and she didn’t even have symptoms after her spleen was taken out. But in the past few months, she’s started to feel ill. The cancer has become aggressive.’ I hunched over in mortification. ‘She starts chemo on Wednesday.’
I glanced up at Gideon. All the blood had drained from his face. He sat back in the chair, eyes blank, jaw slack.
‘Aggressive? Is it terminal?’
‘It’s rare enough that it’s hard to say. But the doctor thinks she should prepare for the worst.’ I tried my hardest not to start crying again. This wasn’t about me.
‘When did you find out?’
I sucked in a deep breath. ‘A few weeks ago.’
‘The Gals?’
‘They think she has a nasty infection. She only told me because I found her in agony.’
‘Lizzie?’
I shook my head. ‘No one knows but me. She wanted to enjoy the party without it hanging over her.’
‘So that explains why you’ve been walking Flapjack.’ His face twisted into a bitter smile. ‘Why you decided to stay on.’
‘No!’ I paused, tried to clear my head so I could answer honestly. ‘I mean, I am going to stay for Hattie. But I’m planning on staying longer. For us.’
He dragged his eyes off the floor to look at me, and the desolation in his gaze cracked my anxious heart in two. ‘I can’t believe you’ve known for weeks –weeks! – that she’s dying. And you didn’t so much as hint that I should ask how she was.’
‘I told you, she made me promise…’
‘That’s why she hired you to write this book. To tell her story before it’s too late?’
I had to grit my teeth to avoid throwing up.
‘I signed a non-disclosure about that.’
‘About the book?’
It was impossible to stop the tears now. ‘There isn’t a book. I’m not a historical author. If you search for Sophie Potter, you’ll find my business online.’
An endless minute later, he clicked off his phone and slipped it into his pocket.
‘Wow.’
‘I asked her, repeatedly, to let me tell you my real business. She made it clear that it was non-negotiable.’ I stopped, blotted my face and blew my nose, tried desperately to yank myself back together. ‘I was going to tell you as soon as she’d shared about the cancer.’
‘Okay.’ He nodded, wiping his own eyes. ‘I get that you couldn’t tell me. But it doesn’t change the fact that you lied, over and over again.’
‘I didn’t lie! Every time you asked me, I never lied.’
