This Could Change Everything(88)

Essie nodded with relief and thought: Good.

The notebook and pen had rolled off the bed, torn-out pages crackling beneath her as Zillah clumsily pushed back the covers. It had taken a long time and involved a considerable amount of leaning against walls, but she’d managed to reach the bathroom. Bladder emptied, she now flushed the loo and washed her hands, then peered at her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

What a shocking sight. She’d never looked more dreadful. Oh, but there was her mobile phone on the window ledge. She was pretty sure someone had been calling her earlier . . . Hadn’t she heard it ringing while she’d been asleep?

Anyway, found it now. Through the fog of her brain, it occurred to her that it might be an idea to call someone and tell them about the pain in her head. Because it wasn’t getting any better and Alice had told her to stop complaining, but sometimes you really needed to let people know how much it hurt . . .

Still clutching the edge of the sink, she leaned across and reached for the phone, but her hand shook and she misjudged the distance. The various bottles of mouthwash, shampoo and Elnett hairspray toppled like dominoes and clattered to the floor, and the phone flew off the window ledge along with them. There was a splash as it landed in the just-flushed loo.

A fresh wave of pain and exhaustion swept over her, followed by weary fatalistic acceptance. Oh well, never mind. Alice probably wouldn’t have let her phone for help anyway; she was still being so unkind . . .

Actually, no, must stop thinking that . . . The thing with Alice hadn’t been real, it had just been a horrible dream . . .

There was a glass still left intact on the shelf. Zillah filled it from the tap and gulped down water, then mentally prepared herself for the arduous journey back to the bedroom.

No, it was too far, she couldn’t do it; all the strength had gone out of her now.

Slowly, very slowly, she lowered herself to the bathroom floor and pulled the soft white towels down from the towel rail. She made one into a kind of pillow and carefully rested her aching head on it, then did her best to cover herself with the other.

Not as comfortable as her bed, but she was here now.

It would do.

She pushed the fallen cans and bottles out of the way and closed her eyes.

Lucas was single again. He wasn’t going to be a father. He was driving south with Essie at his side, and if she only knew what had been going through his head last night . . . well, it was just as well she didn’t.

The hotel manageress who had ordered them up to their separate rooms might have been doing it for her own puritanical reasons, but he was grateful to her all the same. Any attempt to reveal his true feelings towards Essie would have been the worst thing he could have done. She’d have been appalled, and rightly so. Only a complete idiot would have attempted it.

Because he knew how he felt about Essie, but she didn’t have any idea. And making a move at this stage would be unbelievably crass. He needed to take his time and find out if she felt even a fraction of the same attraction towards him.

And that was the problem, because he couldn’t tell, not for sure. Nor could he take the risk. Sometimes the strength of his emotions towards her was so tangible he thought she must be feeling it too.

But just because he longed for it to happen didn’t necessarily make the feelings mutual.

Anyway. Nothing had happened last night, and that was a good thing.

The bad thing was that she was still seeing Paul.

Oh well, they had time on their side. So long as Essie didn’t suddenly announce that now she was pregnant . . .

‘Carlisle,’ Essie exclaimed, pointing to the big blue sign looming ahead of them. ‘You were asleep when we drove past it on the way up. Our geography teacher at school was from Carlisle and he was forever forcing us to learn fascinating facts about the place. Go on, ask me for a fascinating fact.’

Amused by her enthusiasm, Lucas said, ‘I’m agog. Give me three.’

‘OK, brace yourself. Carlisle was part of Scotland until 1092. Carlisle Castle was originally built in 1093. I know, I did warn you these facts were fascinating.’ Holding up the third finger, she said, ‘And the name of Carlisle United’s football stadium is Brinton Park.’

‘Brunton Park,’ Lucas corrected her automatically.

She frowned. ‘I think you’re wrong.’

‘I know I’m right.’

‘You don’t even like football.’

‘True. But I’ve visited Carlisle a few times.’

‘Oh well, that’s just cheating. I didn’t know you knew the place. Fine, you win,’ she said cheerfully. ‘So what brought you up here?’

He hadn’t meant to say it. Almost of their own volition, the words spilled out of his mouth. ‘It’s where my mum lives.’

She turned to look at him. ‘Really?’

‘Well, yes.’ It was hardly the kind of thing you’d lie about.

‘But . . . we’re practically there,’ Essie exclaimed. ‘You must call in and see her!’

‘No, it’s OK.’ His stomach muscles had tightened up. He was already regretting saying it.

‘Lucas, you should,’ Essie pleaded. ‘You said you hadn’t seen her for a while, and we’re only a few miles from Carlisle. It’s crazy not to! And I don’t mind, honestly I don’t.’