Page 67 of Broken Beyond Repair
“Thank you.”
She refrained from saying that she’d always got her. Things were awkward enough since that morning when she’d woken up beside Beatrice. She’d stared into those seductive blue eyes and smiled, believing herself to be in a dream, only to realise it wasn’t.
“Are you okay? You seem a little unsettled since we arrived,” Beatrice asked as Sydney assisted her through the hospital reception.
Scanning the room, Sydney answered, “I hate hospitals. I spent a lot of time in them when my mum was ill. I can’t stand the smell of them… even the posh ones.”
“I’m sorry to hear that; you should have said something. You didn’t have to walk me in.”
“I did,” Sydney said with a smile. She dropped her sunglasses onto her nose as they stepped out into the sunshine.
“I appreciate that. I hope it wasn’t too traumatic for you.”
Sydney shook her head. “Just one of the many things I need to get over.”
“May I ask the nature of your mother’s medical condition?”
“Breast cancer. It’s why I left the harbour. She needed me; I went.”
“Is that why you and Sam broke up? Was it too much to have a relationship at opposite ends of the country?”
“Sam is a man. I’m a lesbian. I loved him, but it wouldn’t have worked.”
“Yes, of course, sorry. So, was your father not able to cope with looking after your mother?”
Two women approached them as they reached the car.
“Beatrice Russell?” The women’s faces lit up as they realised they were correct. “Can we get a photograph please?”
“Of course you can,” Beatrice replied, slapping on a smile.
It was a smile Sydney didn’t recognise. Almost fake. She sensed it was the one Beatrice reserved for fans, the type pulled out of the bag at a moment’s notice to cover how you were really feeling.
One of the women passed a phone to Sydney. “Would you mind?”
Sydney watched on the phone’s screen as the two women flanked Beatrice, who graciously placed an arm around each of them and smiled. This time she knew it to be her genuine smile.
“Thank you,” the other woman said. “We love your work.”
“No trouble. I appreciate that.”
Sydney passed them the phone and smirked as they weaved their way across the car park whilst admiring the photos like a pair of giggling schoolgirls. She hadn’t quite appreciated Beatrice’s stardom. They’d barely left the estate in four weeks, and they’d managed to avoid all attention when they dined at the harbour.
“Nancy fans,” Beatrice said as she hobbled towards the Range Rover and reached out for Sydney’s assistance.
Sydney gave a questioning tilt of the head as she helped her in.
“They were lesbians. They all seem obsessed with the film. They think they’re fans of Beatrice Russell when, really, it’s Nancy they love.”
“How do you know they were lesbians? They could have been friends.”
“Trust me, you get to know your fan base… and they were holding hands as they approached.”
How had she missed that?
Avoiding watchingNancywas becoming increasingly challenging.
Back at Highwood House, Sydney steadied Beatrice as she climbed the stairs. She was beginning to get the hang of the boot and hobbled across her room to the bed unaided.
