Page 53 of Sunny Skies and Summer Kisses

‘I don’t… I’m not really sure,’ Anoushka said, her voice wavery. What would have happened if Zander hadn’t been there? Panic lurched inside her, setting nausea churning in her stomach. Before she knew it, shock had kicked in and she started shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks.

‘Oh, chick, don’t cry,’ said Rachel, rubbing Anoushka’s good arm. ‘You’re going to be okay. Doctor Gillespie’ll get you cleaned up.’

‘Sorry, I’m just… I can’t believe what’s just happened.’ Anoushka leant her head on Rachel’s shoulder and sobbed as the beautician stroked her hair.

‘Hey, I’m not surprised; and you don’t need to apologise.’

Zander reached into his pocket for a tissue, handing it to her. ‘It’s okay, Noushka, you’ve had an awful shock.’

‘Thanks.’ She took it and dabbed her eyes.

‘So have you any idea who was behind the wheel?’ he asked.

She nodded, her stomach clenching. ‘I’m pretty certain it’ll have been Damon.’

‘You mean your ex, Damon?’

She nodded again. ‘I can’t believe he’d do something like that. Would he have swerved if you hadn’t been there? If he hadn’t, he would’ve… his car would’ve hit me and I would be…’ She couldn’t bring herself to put her fears into words.

‘He was probably only trying to scare you, rather than injure you,’ said Zander.

‘Well, he’s certainly succeeded in that,’ said Anoushka.

Rachel looked on, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

‘Making someone fearful is all part and parcel of coercive controlling behaviour. It’ll have been his way of taking back an element of control over you, of your feelings,’ Zander said.

‘Shit. I didn’t think things like that happened round here,’ said Rachel.

‘They don’t, as a rule.’ Zander sat down beside Anoushka, carefully lifting the sleeve of her t-shirt. ‘Do you mind if I treat this?’ he asked.

‘No.’ She shook her head and sniffed, watching as he rifled through his medical bag.

After cutting away the tattered parts of her sleeve, he set about removing the ripped leg of her trousers. ‘Sorry about this, but needs must.’ Working swiftly, he doused her injuries with antiseptic wound spray before carefully removing the gravel with tweezers, explaining what he was doing as he worked. His soothing tone helped to calm her. And though he was concentrating on treating his patient, the expression on his face said he was more than a little concerned by the turn of events.

‘There, done. It might be a good idea to pop over to the surgery on Monday, and get Jill, the practice nurse, to change the dressings and give them a quick check over.’ He sat back on his haunches. ‘Again, I’m sorry I had to hack at your trousers.’

Anoushka looked down at her tattered clothing, the padded dressings on her injuries. ‘That’s okay. But what about your arm? That looks like it needs some attention.’

‘I’ll be fine, it’s nothing compared to yours; my legs weren’t skinned like yours; my thick jeans took the brunt of my fall. Like your bag saved you from a nasty bump to the head.’ His face turned serious. ‘So, have you any idea why Damon would behave the way he did?’

Anoushka nodded. Taking a fortifying breath, she shared what had happened before the car had come flying towards her.

Rachel’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, my God! Seriously? He shouldn’t be walking the streets; he’s a psychopath.’

‘Rachel’s right, and he’s clearly dangerous – or at the very least, reckless – we don’t know what he might do next.’ Zander paused a moment, his expression serious. ‘You do realise we need to report this to the police, don’t you, Anoushka?’

His words sent a spike of fear through her, but she knew he was right. ‘Yes. I always knew he had a temper on him, but nothing like—’

She was cut off by a car driving into the courtyard. It appeared to be heading in the direction of the dance school, sending her heart rate rocketing once more. ‘Who’s this?’ she said, panic in her voice as her body tensed.

‘I don’t know; I don’t recognise the car,’ said Zander. ‘But they’re driving calmly so there’s nothing to worry about.’ He rested a reassuring hand gently on her shoulder.

The three of them watched as a woman stepped out of the vehicle, her eyes searching the facades of the buildings, finally alighting on the dance school’s sign. She had a kind face and, from what Anoushka could gather, her body language didn’t appear to be hostile.

The woman walked towards them, taking in Anoushka’s t-shirt, her brows knitting together. ‘Anoushka Cartwright?’ she asked.

‘Who’s asking?’ Zander got to his feet, pulling himself up to his full height of well over six feet.

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