“Should we rent out the flat? I’ll just stay here?”
Laura put the paper down. “You know you’re always welcome, and I love seeing you the rare times you’re not at the hospital. But it’s up to you. I understand if you need your own space.”
“Will you get me chocolate croissants every day?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm . . . could be a deal breaker.”
Laura stood. “Hard luck. It’s time I left.”
Daniel leaned in confidentially. “What’s happening in this new series, then?”
“Can’t tell you.”
“Can’torwon’t?”
“Bit of both. I’m planning the finale this morning with the writer. And if I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.”
* * *
The wind blew her sideways as she crossed the road to her office and Laura laughed, a spirited, delighted laugh that was all the more noteworthy as laughter had been so scarce for so many long months. It was a joy reacquainting herself with happiness, simple pleasures, and she never tired of reminding herself of the most beautiful, exhilarating fact thatDaniel was okay.She’d wake in the morning, or be picking some apples in the supermarket, or be supposedly concentrating in a preproduction meeting, and say it to herself and an explosion of fireworks would go off somewhere inside her.
He’d returned from France looking more or less his old self. More important, he sounded like his old self, happy-go-lucky—and his ambition had returned. If anything, it was stronger than before. While he’d been away, he’d arranged his place back at the hospital for his Foundation year one. He said he felt as if he’d been given a second chance. Something had happened when she’d left him to come back to London; he’d struck up a friendshipwith a local woman who ran her parents’ business. Laura had met her briefly one weekend when she was out there; Vivienne had stopped by and she and Daniel had gone out for a drink. She was at least a decade older than he was, had the confidence that came with it and no time for self-pity. He wasn’t one for wallowing, but her no-nonsense spirit had accelerated his recovery. He’d come back tanned, relaxed, and somehow a bit tougher.
Laura buzzed herself into her building and walked up the stairs to where Willow sat outside her office. She was her new PA and eager to please.
“Your visitor is here,” she said. “I showed her into the meeting room.”
The writer was a little early, but that was fine. Laura was looking forward to the session; it was one of the most fun stages of developing a drama, making up the stories, and the writer was smart and imaginative. Laura went over to the meeting room and opened the door.
Cherry was sitting at the round glass table, flicking through a magazine.
“Hello, Laura.”
In a state of utter shock, Laura said nothing.
“I suspected it might be a bit of a surprise to see me, but not an unpleasant one.”
Panic overtook her and Laura quickly turned away and closed the door.Why is she here?She took a moment to try to compose herself before turning back around. Made her voice as calm as possible, even though her heart was racing. “Hello, Cherry. I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bit of a bad time. I’ve got a meeting starting any minute now.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll take that minute, if it’s all the same to you.” She didn’t wait for permission. “It just became very important to see you. Since we last spoke, when you called me just after Mexico with the news . . . Well, all these months have gone by, but I’ve had a hard time accepting it.”
Laura didn’t say anything. She still couldn’t work it all out.Think, think.It had been, what, six, seven months? Cherry’s hairwas longer, which made her even more attractive, more sensual. Laura knew she had to keep calm and then when her writer arrived—damn Willow for not knowing the difference—she’d just have to politely, but firmly, ask Cherry to leave.
“Despite what you may have thought, Daniel meant the world to me.” Cherry’s tone suddenly became harsh. “Why didn’t you ever call to make sure I was coping okay?”
“I . . . I’m sorry. I was just so caught up in my own . . . grief.”
“Yes, and I suppose you had the funeral to arrange as well. No, hold on, you did that when I was on holiday. Couldn’t wait. What day did he die, by the way? I’d really like to know where he’s buried, just so I can go and say good-bye.”
Laura was unnerved by the questions, coming without even a pause to hear answers. Cherry was watching her and Laura was grateful she’d already thought some of this through.
“I’m afraid it was a cremation. And we took the ashes to France, which he always loved.”
Cherry stared at her and Laura looked away. “I’m sorry, Cherry, but I really do have a meeting starting—”
“Just one more thing.”
