Page 102 of The Last Night in London
“Of course, dear. He likes...”
“Sandalwood soap.” She could smell him, the softness of his neck as she pressed her lips there. She hadn’t meant to say that right there. But she caught the scent of him, as if he were sitting at the table next to her.
David cleared his throat. “I’ll go see his man at Truefitt and Hill and pick up a few shaving things he prefers. They have the sandalwood soap Graham has used since I’ve known him.”
Eva swallowed, forcing a smile that hid how utterly and completely cut off from Graham she felt. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure familiarity is just what he needs.” She pictured him in a hospital bed as Precious slathered shaving cream on his chin. Precious, not her. Her chest stung, and she wondered if she might be bleeding.
“All right, then,” Sophia said, standing while David solicitously helped her out of her chair and took her arm. “It’s settled. We’ll let you know as soon as the arrangements are made—which could be as early as tomorrow morning. Can you be ready?”
Precious nodded eagerly. “Yes. I’ll pack tonight.”
They said their good-byes, leaving Precious and Eva on the sidewalk, staring into the verdant expanse of Green Park across from the Ritz. People walked their dogs and strolled amiably as if everything were in order. But it wasn’t. It never would be again.
Precious let out a loud sob, not even trying to hide it. Eva put all of her energy into feeling scornful for the outward show of emotion, for not understanding the proper etiquette for such a situation. But was there any to begin with? She was only just realizing that if she focused on things outside of herself, she could walk quickly away from the hotel, listening to the click of her heels as they propelled her forward. Hear the sounds of the traffic. The whistle of a policeman. She was a spectator at the cinema, watching this person on the screen, watching her behave as if everything were fine.
“Eva, stop. Please.”
She turned, dry-eyed, and waited for Precious to catch up to her. Precious reached for her hands, but Eva shook her off. “We should hurry. I’m sure you’ve got washing to do. I’ll help you.”
Precious nodded, sniffling. The only handkerchief Eva had in her pocket was Graham’s, the monogrammed one he’d given to her on the day they’d met. She wouldn’t give it to Precious. She couldn’t.
The following day when David arrived in a government car to collect Precious, Eva walked down with her, cheerful and optimistic. Acting, always acting. She was getting quite good at it.
When Precious turned to hug her good-bye, Eva handed her the book of Wordsworth poetry Graham had given her. “He might enjoy this being read to him if he’s not up to reading himself yet.” Eva hesitated before pulling the ivory dolphin from her pocket. “I want you to take good care of this and bring it back. Do you understand? Let Graham know that you have it, that it will be his good-luck charm until he gets better. And tell him...” Her composure slipped, but just for a moment. She smiled brightly. “Tell him that I will expect him to return it to me personally when he’s back in London.”
Precious started crying again, and Eva wanted to shake her, to let her know that tears were worthless. “I’ll take good care of him foryou,” Precious said. “I promise. I’ll make sure he returns to you. He does love you, Eva. I know he does.”
Eva forced a reassuring smile. “Just make sure he gets better and bring him back to me.”
Precious nodded once, then slid into the car next to David. Eva turned her back on the departing car, remembering what Precious had told her, how you should never watch a person leave because then you’d never see them again. She climbed the steps without turning around, but stood waiting at the front doors until the sound of the car’s engine had been absorbed by the thrum of the morning traffic.
CHAPTER 29
LONDON
MAY 2019
I sat next to Colin and his parents in the well-appointed waiting room at Princess Grace Hospital in Marylebone. It was a strangely soothing room with tasteful furniture and an appealing lack of clown paintings and other medical office art on the quiet silver-gray walls. The absence of cracked orange vinyl chairs and linoleum tiles made it easier to pretend that I wasn’t in a hospital. If it weren’t for the worried faces of Colin and his parents, I could have easily imagined I was anywhere else.
Arabella had called for the ambulance after Precious collapsed. She had been breathing, and conscious, but not entirely lucid when they’d placed her in the ambulance. I kept asking every medical professional we encountered if she would be okay, the reality that she might die hitting me with a force I hadn’t expected. I knew she was old, and I couldn’t completely forget Precious telling me that being old was her punishment. But it was still too soon. Her story was not yet completely written.
Colin looked at his watch again, the third time in thirty minutes. “I wish they’d tell us something more conclusive than that she’s stabilized and sleeping comfortably.”
“They said they’d let us know as soon as she wakes,” Penelope soothed. “Although it’s quite late. She might sleep until morning. You two should go home and get some rest.”
“Just a while longer,” Colin said. “In case she wakes up and needs reassurance.”
Penelope smiled at her son. “Your father and I are here—and we promise to call you when she awakens. You should have left with Arabella. You both have to be at work in the morning, and there’s nothing you can do here.”
“I’d like to wait, too,” I said.
Penelope tapped her index finger against her chin. “Did you notice any mental confusion prior to her collapse?”
I thought for a moment. “Earlier in the day she had put on an old evening gown and was frantically looking for that photograph of Graham and not making a lot of sense. She calmed down once we found it. And last night she was reciting poetry from memory—a Wordsworth poem.” I frowned. “But she also said something strange. When I asked her what took her so long to come back to London, she said she waited until she was ready to face her past.”
Penelope frowned. “Whatever could she have meant by that?”
“I have no idea. She went to sleep right afterward, so I couldn’t ask her.”And then I threw myself on your son and forgot all about Precious.I looked away, feeling the heat rising up my neck.
