Devoted 2 : Where the Ivy Grows (27 page)

He shakes his head. ‘I can do without sleep. But I’m glad you got some rest. There’s good news.’

‘News?’ I clamber up, my hands clinging to Marc’s arms.

‘Your father came around. The scan showed a blood clot that’s now been removed. He’s going to be okay.’

I jump from the seat. ‘Oh my god. He’s going to be okay? Really? He’s awake?’

Marc smiles. ‘He’s talking a little
, apparently. You can go see him.’

Dad is propped up in bed against four pillows, looking weirdly alert and fresh for someone in a hospital bed. I knew I’d break down when I saw him again, and I do.

‘
Dad
,’ I blubber, hurrying towards him.

‘Hello
, love.’ His words are a little tired, but he still sounds like my dad, and the tears come even more fiercely.

When I reach the bed, I take his hands in mine. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like I got hit by a car,’ says Dad, pulling a smile onto his face. The cover moves a little as he pulls himself up, and I see huge black bruises along his shoulder.

‘Trust you to joke at a time like this,’ I say, trying to return his smile. ‘I was so worried. I still am.’

‘Don’t you worry, petal. Not about me. I’m fine. Absolutely fine and dandy. I need to thank that fella of yours, is he around?’

‘Marc?’ I turn to the doorway. ‘He’s in the waiting area.’

‘Well. You tell him if it wasn’t for him, I might not have made it. Tell him that. Without that equipment -’

‘Equipment?’

‘He donated a new scanner to the hospital. Didn’t he tell you? Without that, things could have turned out very differently.’

I shake my head. ‘No. He didn’t tell me that.’

‘Modest and generous. You don’t get many men like that around.’ Dad starts coughing, and grimaces in pain.

‘Hey.’ I squeeze his hands. ‘You just rest, now.’

‘I probably should have a sleep. Let the bruises heal. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Not at all.’ I smile at him. ‘You sleep. I’ll try and track down
Genoveva. Tell her you’re okay.’

‘She’s not here?’ Dad’s face falls. ‘What about Sam?’

‘Not yet,’ I say. ‘I’m sure they’re on their way. I’ll leave you to sleep.’

Out in the hallway, Marc is waiting. ‘Thank you,’ I tell him. ‘For everything. Without you ...’

‘You have nothing to thank me for,’ Marc interrupts.

‘I’m so relieved,’ I say, putting a hand to my chest. ‘Just to see him ... awake and talking ... oh my god.’ I take my phone from my pocket. ‘I need to go to the car park and phone Genoveva.’

We both head outside.

To Genoveva’s credit, she answers the phone on the first ring.

‘He’s come around,’ I blurt out, without waiting for her to speak. ‘I just spoke to him. He’s going to be okay. They say he’ll make a full recovery.’

‘When will he be coming home?’ Genoveva asks.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I can’t stand this!’ Genoveva shouts. ‘I’m here all alone with Samuel.’

I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep or the trauma of what’s just happened, but something inside me snaps.

‘Genoveva,’ I say, my voice measured. ‘My father is in hospital right now. He could have died. Stop thinking of yourself for a change and think of him. Okay? He’d like to see you and Sam. So. If you haven’t got anything better to do, get yourself in a taxi and get to the hospital. Right now.’

I hear something like a whimper, and then a very chastised
Genoveva says, ‘Alright. Yes, okay, I’m on my way.’

Genoveva arrives soon after my call and sobs on my shoulder while Dad sleeps.

When Dad wakes up, I warn her not to stress him about domestic stuff, and to my surprise
, she doesn’t. She asks him about the accident and how he’s feeling, but never once talks about how she’s going to cope.

Marc stays with me the whole time. He doesn’t say much, but he’s there. A rock of support. He even plays with Sam, taking him out in the hospital grounds and buying him a bag of jelly tots. It’s so cute to see him with a little boy, and my mind starts to wander, thinking of Marc and
me with our own baby to chase around.

No, Sophia. Stop dreaming.

Genoveva leaves at five o'clock to give Samuel his tea, and I see Dad again. He looks fresher than this morning. More awake. And the hospital staff are talking about discharging him tomorrow.

‘You should go, love,’ Dad says. ‘You look exhausted. Everything’s going to be fine now. Get some rest. I’d offer to drive you, but ...’ He gestures to the bed, and we both laugh. ‘Is that
fella of yours still here?’

‘Yes. But he’s not my
fella. Not anymore.’

‘Shame.
’

‘I know.’

‘Go on, love. Go home. I’ll just be sleeping from now on. You can call if you need to – the nurse said so. Go on. Get some rest.’

I rub my eyes and realise he’s right. I’m absolutely exhausted.

‘Okay.’ I kiss him on the forehead. ‘I’ll see you very soon, you hear?’

When I head back to the waiting room, I find Marc by the coffee machine, dropping pound coin after pound coin into the slot. Five beige cups of brown coffee stand on a nearby table.

I watch as another cup rattles down, followed by steaming water.

‘Who’s all the coffee for?’ I ask.

Marc carries on inserting coins. ‘The staff. I thought they could probably use a hot drink.’

‘Very thoughtful.’ I give a tired smile. ‘Dad thinks I should head home. Get some rest.’

Marc turns to me. ‘Yes, I think that’s an excellent idea. You need to re
st. I’ll call Keith. Have him drop you off.’

‘Thank you
.’

Marc gives the tiniest of smiles. ‘I’m g
lad you didn’t argue about that.’

‘I don’t have the energy.’

It’s raining when we reach the hospital c
ar park.

When we re
ach the car, Marc turns to me. ‘I’ll stay with you if you need me to. You don’t have to be alone.’

I feel rain splash on my nose and forehead
as I look up at him. ‘Will you? Will you stay with me?’

‘
As long as Leo wouldn’t have anything to say about it.’

I shake my head. ‘We’re just friends.’

Marc smiles. ‘Get in the car, Sophia, before you get drenched.’

The car feels safe and warm and achingly familiar. We’ve had some times in this car, Marc and I. They swirl around in my head as Marc slides onto the seat beside me.

‘Put your seatbelt on
.’

‘Oh. Is it not on?’

‘No.’ Marc pulls the belt over me and clips it in place. Then he knocks on the glass between us and Keith. The plate slides aside.

‘The townhouse, Keith,’ Marc instructs.

‘Right you are, Marc.’ The glass slides closed.

‘The townhouse?’ I ask, rubbing cold, rain-soaked arms.

‘I can take care of you there.’

‘Okay.’

‘Still too tired to argue?’

I nod.

‘I’ll have to remember the effect exhaustion has on you.’

We drive on in silence, me staring out at the city, my eyes glazed. In my head, I’m so relieved that Dad is okay, but the emotion of the last twenty
-four hours, plus the lack of sleep, makes this all feel like a dream. Nothing seems real, especially not sitting next to Marc.

I fall asleep again during the drive, and the next thing I know, I’m being carried up Marc’s wide staircase and placed carefully on his bed.

‘I haven’t been here for a while,’ I murmur as a soft duvet is laid over me. ‘Are there any strange guests I should know about this time?’

Marc smiles. ‘
No one. Annabel’s still in clinic. She’s doing very well by all accounts. I’ll stay with you. Until you fall asleep.’

‘Is that a good idea?’

‘That depends.’

‘On?’

‘On whether you’ll forgive me.’

I prop myself onto my elbows. ‘Forgive you?’

‘I realised something today. I can never keep you totally safe. Life will always throw things that I’m not expecting. But I can keep you a damned sight safer if I’m by your side.’

My eyes widen. ‘Marc? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’

He nods.

‘But ... what about
the press?’

‘
There’ll always be obstacles. Dangers. I gave in to my fear before. I couldn’t bear anything happening to you. But ... that fear didn’t go away when we weren’t together.’

‘So you’ll let me make my own decisions? Even if you think they’re unsafe?’

‘It will be tough to watch you out there in the big bad world, but nothing can be tougher than being away from you. I was wrong to try and make decisions for you. I gave in to my own fears. I have to let you make your own choices.’

Even though I’m tired, a smile spreads all the way across my face. ‘We can ... are you saying there’s a chance for us?’

‘Yes.’ He kisses my forehead. ‘If you’ll have me. But I don’t want you making any decisions right now. You’re tired. Emotional. You don’t want to be making any rash choices right now.’

I look up at his handsome face.

We gaze at each other, and time stands still.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m reaching up, pushing my fingers through his thick hair and pulling his head towards mine. His lips come closer and suddenly they touch
my own.

My body reacts
before I completely realise what’s happening, and my mouth moves over his as I cling to him, warmth rushing around me.

Marc frowns. Then he responds, kissing me deeply, passionately, his mouth pushed softly against mine, his arms pulling me closer.

My skin tingles and the hairs on my arms stand up. I hear little sighs and murmurs, and realise they’re coming from me.

Marc’s
chest is heaving, and his neck is red and thick.

‘Stop me now,’ he says, his voice low. ‘Before I go too far.
This isn’t the right time.’

‘I don’t want you to stop,’ I whisper, my hands clinging to his shoulders. He feels so good under my fingers. I reach a hand into his thick hair again, and my fingers tighten as I pull his head towards me.

He kisses me again, and I melt into the bed. His eyes tell me he’s only just holding it together, and I know exactly how he feels.

‘Make love to
me Marc,’ I whisper, wrapping my legs around him, pulling him close.

He lets out a moan and kisses me harder, scooping his hands around my buttocks
and pulling me tight.

I feel him hard against my stomach
, and my breathing quickens.

Marc pulls away from my mouth, shoulders rising and falling. He takes in a few long, de
ep breaths. ‘No.’

I can tell by the crumple on his forehead that this is painful for him.

‘Marc?’

‘We can’t do this. Not now. Not like this. You’re not thinking straight. I’d be taking advantage.’

‘No. You wouldn’t. I know my own mind and I want you.’

‘
You’re emotional. It wouldn’t be right to do things this way.’

‘Please
,’ I whisper.

Marc sits on the bed
. ‘I ... can’t. I won’t be able to control myself. And that wouldn’t be right. Not after what you’ve just been through. I should go.’

‘
Don’t leave.’ I shake my head, tears appearing.

‘I have to
.’ He kisses my forehead. ‘Don’t worry. You won’t be alone. I’ll take care of that.’

‘What? You’re leaving the
house
? Where are you going?’

‘Just ... somewhere
.’ Marc rubs his hand over his forehead. ‘Let’s just say I have something to do that will help me be the person you want.’

‘The
person I want would stay here.’

‘I can’t right now. Just ... trust me.’
Marc looks away.  He stands. ‘I need to leave. You won’t be alone. Rodney is here, and I’ll have Jen driven over to keep you company.’

‘Where are you
going
?’

‘
There’s something I need to do.’

‘And you can’t tell me what it is?’

‘There’s nothing to tell right now.’ He puts on his shirt and does up the buttons. ‘I’ll have Jen picked up. I have her number and address.’

‘You have Jen’s
number
and
address
?’

That quirky smile
. ‘I like to keep certain details that might be important in locating your whereabouts and keeping you safe.’