‘Sometimes there are things that can’t be fixed,’ Mary said softly, and for some reason Katie felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘Sometimes pain runs too deep and the darkness is too all-consuming for even a bright light like you to extinguish it. Sarah thinks otherwise. She cares about you both, but I’ve been around a lot longer than she has. I love that boy, I’m grateful to him for keeping my son-in-law safe all these years, for keeping you safe now, and I hope that some day he can be helped. But I don’t want to see you broken in the process.’
‘Mary, we’re not even –’
‘I don’t care what you think is going on, I saw the way he was this morning when I arrived: prowling around, giving out orders, making me read that blinking information sheet twice before he’d leave. There’s no way he’s going to leave you alone. Just be careful, okay? There are other ways to be hurt.’
*****
But what Mary didn’t understand was that it was too late for Katie. Sam had already hurt her, and over the next two weeks as her physical injuries healed she was realising that maybe the pain of that would last far longer than anything Daniel had inflicted. True, she no longer saw him in the pages ofHeator any of the other gossip rags (which she had started buying religiously and poring over with grim fascination), but since he left her that morning she hadn’t heard from him once. It was like now that she was safe she had been wiped conveniently from his brain.
The only brief chink of hope she had was a phone call a week after she’d returned to work. Gweneth had put a lady she described as ‘some twp bugger who won’t even tell me her name’ through to Katie on her phone triage, and to Katie’s surprise a vaguely familiar, husky voice had sounded down the line:
‘Hello, this is Lydia Swanson,’ she’d told Katie grandly, as if expecting some sort of round of applause.
‘Um … hi,’ Katie said uncertainly, and heard the other woman sigh loudly down the line.
‘I understand that you were the one … that is to say, you were the doctor that worked on the set; the one with the interesting clothing.’
‘Yes, well, I only went there a couple of times but if you remember we actually met at –’
‘Look, I’ll cut to the chase shall I? Is he with you?’
‘Uh … what?’
Lydia sighed again. ‘You know exactly who I mean. Is he with you?’
‘No,’ Katie said, flummoxed by this bizarre conversation. She’d not had much to do with B-list celebrity actresses or models before, but she imagined that they were not in the habit of phoning up random nobodies in Wales in an attempt to hunt down their errant boyfriends. ‘I rather thought he might be with you.’
Lydia snorted. ‘Yes, well, we’re just having some communication problems at the moment. I can’t seem to get through to him on the phone and I … look, if you see him, tell him I’d … I’d like to know where I stand.’
Lydia’s tone at the start of her speech had been defiant, but by the last sentence it had softened; she sounded almost vulnerable, so Katie said, ‘Okay, yes, I promise I will. But if you don’t mind me saying … um … just don’t take this thing with Sam too personally. I mean you’re really beautiful and … and …’ Katie wracked her brain to try and come up with another compliment, ‘and … well, famous. I mean, what about Ryan Reynolds? – he’s a nice-looking lad; aren’t you filming something with him this year?’ Katie was thanking her lucky stars for the amount of trashy magazine reading she’d been packing in in the last two weeks.
‘I … um … thanks, but Ryan Reynolds is married, and anyway all the other men I know are either big wimps or gay.’ Ha! Russell was right, Katie vowed never to tell him; he was unbearably smug as it was. ‘Look, never mind. Just tell him to ring me, okay?’ The phone went dead before Katie could remind her that she didn’t have a clue where Sam was, leave alone the ability to pass on messages from jilted girlfriends. But she did find the fact that Lydiahadbeen jilted heartening in a weird way. If it was good enough for a Hollywood actress it was good enough for her, she told herself. So why she still had an ache in her chest and why her eyes should start smarting, she had no idea.
Chapter 30
Look what we made
‘Hello?’ Katie called down the hall, pushing the heavy front door open. ‘Anybody there? Your funnest babysitter ever is … argh!’ A small body darted out into Katie’s legs from the living room; she stumbled before falling heavily on her backside. Finlay untangled himself from her legs and barrelled around to her head to peer over her, his snot and drool dripping onto her forehead.
‘Auntie Katie kick me,’ he said, stubby little legs planted wide and a grumpy expression on his face. ‘Auntie Katie go naughty step.’
‘Finlay, you scared me half to death, you little tyrant,’ laughed Katie, pushing herself up on her elbows to sitting, then grabbing Finlay in for a cuddle. ‘Where did I hurt you, baby?’
‘I not baby! I Finlay!’
‘Okay, Finlay, where did Auntie Katie hurt you?’
‘My tummy.’
‘Right, then, there’s only one cure for that.’ She pulled up his jumper and blew a raspberry on his tummy, causing him to collapse in fits of gorgeous toddler giggles.
‘No, Auntie Katie. You naughty giwl. You go naughty step,’ he shouted in between his laughter.
Then suddenly he stopped.
Katie withdrew her face from her raspberry-blowing endeavours, shocked by the sudden silence (not a common occurrence in the Davis home), and the first thing she saw was a pair of large black boots on the carpet in front of her. Her eyes travelled up the long, jean-clad legs and bulky frame until she finally met his brown eyes. Why was she destined to always look like a complete numpty in front of this man?
‘Uh … hi,’ she muttered, scrambling to her feet with considerable difficulty as Finlay refused to let go of her neck. Sam stood stock still, frozen in place, his eyes watching her and Finlay flaying about, without once offering to help. He looked thinner, she noticed, and there were dark circles under his eyes, which were just that bit bloodshot.
