Page 29 of Six Days

‘There are no words for what you’ve done today,’ she whispered against my shoulder. ‘You’ve been a rock, and I truly don’t think I’d have got through any of this without you.’

‘Phwah,’ I replied, somewhat inarticulately for a woman who used words to earn her living. ‘It’s no more than you’d have done for me. It’s what friends do. I know you’d be there for me in a heartbeat if I needed you.’

‘You can count on it,’ Hannah said.

*

I crept as silently as I could through the quiet ward, mindful that the darkened bays meant most of the patients were already asleep. I paused to check the time on the clock beside the nurses’ station, smiling when I saw that the box that had once held almost two dozen cupcakes now contained just a scattering of crumbs. At almost eleven o’clock, it was much later than I’d thought. I had no idea what time the last park-and-ride bus ran, but I was pretty sure it would have left several hours ago.

The deserted hospital corridors felt eerie as I followed signs for the lifts that would take me back down to the main foyer. I travelled down to ground level with an elderly gentleman dressed in a hospital gown that gaped revealingly at the back. In his hand was a packet of cigarettes, which he politely proffered my way.

‘No, thank you,’ I said, trying to avert my gaze from the mirrored walls of the lift, which unfortunately revealed everything he’d been trying to conceal by keeping his back to the wall.

‘After you,’ he said chivalrously when the carriage eventually pinged to announce we were on the ground floor. I smiled and strode swiftly ahead.

The foyer felt totally different to how it had done several hours earlier, when I’d returned from the coffee shop. All the merchandising outlets were now closed, their entrances secured behind metal grids and shutters. There was no longer a queue by the vending machine, nor at the enquiry desk. Even the chairs in the waiting area were empty. Or so I thought, until I got closer. There was one in use, but its occupant was partially hidden behind a huge yucca plant. All I could see were two extremely long legs clad in faded denim, and a pair of slightly scuffed boots.

The owner of the legs courteously drew them in as I approached, and I murmured a word of thanks without looking, until a voice I instantly recognised stopped me in my tracks.

‘Hello.’

I halted so abruptly, my lift companion in the ill-fitting hospital gown almost collided with me. He slipped past me and went through the revolving doors, his gown lifting in the evening breeze. But my attention wasn’t on the inadvertently mooning patient; it was on the man who had been waiting in the hospital foyer. Waiting for me.

‘Finn,’ I said, turning his name into a cry of surprise.

‘Jemima,’ he said, getting to his feet. I was too shocked at seeing him there to play along with his running gag this time.

‘What on earth are you doing here?’

Finn Douglas was full of surprises, and his reply was typically not the one I was expecting.

‘You didn’t pay for the cakes.’

The blush ignited my cheeks like a flash fire. ‘Oh, God. I’m so sorry,’ I began, already scrabbling in my bag for my purse. ‘There must have been a misunderstanding. Tasha said—’

I broke off as his hand covered mine and gently pushed my purse back into my bag.

‘I’m joking,’ he said, his eyes twinkling with devilment.

‘I… oh, I thought…’ I shook my head, indignant and also more than a little embarrassed. ‘That wasn’t very nice of you.’

His face softened then, and devilment changed to remorse. ‘I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh.’

‘Ha ha,’ I said drily, taking a step towards the spinning doors that were beckoning me to leave.

Finn reached down and took the large glossy carrier bag from my hand; within it were the dresses I’d bought what felt like weeks earlier.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Carrying your shopping for you,’ he said, falling into step beside me.

‘No. I mean, what are you doinghere? At the hospital. At this time of night.’

‘I’m guessing investigative journalism wasn’t ever your specialism, Gina,’ Finn said smoothly, inserting a ticket into the parking machine. I saw from the amount displayed on the screen that he’d been at the hospital for more than two hours. It silenced my snarky reply.

‘You’ve been waiting a long time for me.’

There was a seriousness in his eyes that even the low-level lighting couldn’t conceal.

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