Page 40 of Doc Defence

“Oh no. No, no, no, no. I meant she was in her twenties.” Hel internally berated herself. While she did think the younger woman was a bit of a moron, it didn’t seem the best plan to say it to her boyfriend.

Frost’s expression changed in an instant from serious to his mouth pulling upwards. “Actually, you’re right. She’s a bit of a moron. And she also dumped me. So she’s now my ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh!” Hel couldn’t think of anything else to say.

But her brain was doing a very, very happy dance. He was single! Oh, hang about. He had been dumped. Maybe he didn’t want to be single and hadn’t meant what he said when he was drugged. But he called his ex a moron, so maybe—. And stop. She put a break on her whirling thoughts and concentrated on Frost again.

She was about to ask him how he felt about it when she remembered it wasn’t any of her business and instead said, “Do you want me to get you anything from the shops? I’m going after work tomorrow. I can drop you some things off?”

And it would be an excuse to come back and see him.

Frost was silent for a moment before he replied, “You know what. That would be good. It’ll only be a couple of things, like milk and bread. I’ve got a food delivery coming Friday. As long as it’s not out of your way, that is.”

“It’s not out of the way to my house.” Hel fudged the truth a little bit. It wasn’t out of the way to her house, but she wasn’t staying in her house as that was currently a pile of ash.

She grinned at him, and he smiled right back at her. Hel’s phone bleeped, and she ignored it. Then it bleeped again and again and again.

“Should you get that?” Frost indicated to her bag, where her phone seemed to have taken on a life of its own as message after message arrived.

“Probably.”

She rummaged through the bag, which resembled Mary Poppins with the amount of stuff she always carried around. There was half a medicine cabinet, a drink, snacks, lipstick, hair brush (not that she ever used that!), a packet of hair grips, hand sanitiser and right at the bottom of the debris, her phone.

She opened the messages. It was Clara.

‘OMG. The wedding planner is here.’

‘She’s a little bit scary.’

‘She told me off for telling her I didn’t care about flower colour.’

‘And she told me off again when I said I didn’t know what my wedding dream was.’

‘What even is that?’

‘My dream is to marry Taylor.’

‘Maybe I can make Gloria talk to her.’

‘Help! Gloria’s gone out.’

Hel snorted as she read the stream of messages. Looking up, she saw Frost staring at her intently.

“Clara is getting stressed about her wedding to Taylor.” While she explained, more messages arrived.

‘She’s now demanding I get Taylor on the phone.’

‘I can’t. He’s in Spain working. He’ll be asleep.’

‘Gloria isn’t answering her phone.’

‘What do I do???’

“I need to talk her down from her stressed-out place.” Hel figured she had better reply before Clara had a stroke.

Glancing up at Frost, she blinked in surprise to see his eyes were staring at her with an intensity that stole her breath. Rather than analyse it, she looked back down at her phone and began typing.

‘Calm down. Pick your favourite colour and tell her you want flowers that shade. Theme-wise, tell her, simple but elegant. You guys aren’t over-the-top people.’

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