‘Are you decent?’ Paul called, pushing the door open a fraction.
‘Uh-huh,’ Sophie said, guessing she was decent enough for his eyes, being dressed, though had no clue what she must look like. Had she been sick? She’d definitely caught a whiff.
‘Morning – or rather, afternoon.’ Paul smiled as he came in, bearing a tray. ‘Are we feeling a bit better?’
‘Ugh, no, I feel awful,’ Sophie said miserably, blinking against the light that flooded in from the lounge. ‘What happened?’
‘At a guess, the flu bug going around happened. It’s a nasty one, apparently.’
He could say that again. ‘Did I pass out?’ she asked, guessing she must have.
‘You don’t remember the doctor coming?’ Paul placed the tray on the dressing table and turned to her, surprised.
‘Doctor?’ Sophie’s eyes boggled. ‘No.’ She shook her head, bewildered. She was obviously sicker than she thought she was.
‘You were running a fever,’ Paul said. ‘She gave you a shot.’
A shot?
‘Just something to bring your temperature down,’ Paul said, as her eyes drifted to the small pinprick on her arm. ‘She said to call her again, if you got worse, but I’m guessing you must be slightly improved, since you’re back with us. You had me really worried there, I can tell you. I must have checked on you at least ten times in the night.’
Oh. ‘Thanks,’ Sophie said weakly, feeling grateful and guilty. ‘Sorry for all the trouble I seem to be causing.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ Paul assured her. ‘I think you might need to take her advice though.’
‘Which is?’ Sophie asked, wondering whether she could make it to the bathroom. She seriously needed to shower.
‘She’s in agreement with me about you possibly being lacking in essential vitamins and minerals. If you really can’t face eating meat, and I’m guessing you can’t, you need to supplement your diet. I’ve bought you some vitamin pills. I’ve left a couple on the tray.’ He nodded towards it. ‘There’s scrambled eggs there, if you’re up to it. And then I’m thinking you might want to get changed.’
‘Thanks,’ Sophie said again, feeling still puzzled. He must have remembered she didn’t eat meat if he’d discussed it with the doctor, so why had he put meat in the meal? She shrugged it off. He must have forgotten, and then been reminded when she’d thrown up.
‘Like I say, no trouble. You can’t help being ill, can you? I’ve rung your mum, by the way. She sends her best.’
Her best? She passes out and her mother sends her best? Cheers, Mum. At least she was finding out how wanted she really was now. The cow was probably out there having a ball. Shagging the latest boyfriend and test-riding a few more from Tinder.
Sophie shrugged. As far as she was concerned, she and Justin were well shot of Alicia. Her eyes suddenly filling up, Sophie hurriedly wiped her nose.
‘I’ll come in and strip the bed while you’re in the bathroom,’ Paul said, heading for the door.
‘Strip it?’ That was a bit OTT, wasn’t it? She wasn’t that niffy.
‘Mascara.’ Paul turned, nodding past her to the pillow, upon which, Sophie realised, were several tell-tale black patches. ‘You might want to not bother with it while you’re ill.’
‘Oops. Sorry,’ she said, wiping a hand under her nose again.
‘Oh, and Sophie?’
She looked sheepishly back at him.
‘Use a tissue to blow your nose, yes? There’s a box on the bedside table.’
‘Oh, right.’ Sophie plucked one and fiddled with it. She didn’t actually want to blow her nose.
‘Your bag’s over by the window,’ he reminded her. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Shout when you’re ready and I’ll give you a hand to the bathroom.’
‘Okay, thanks,’ Sophie said, as he went out. ‘Oh, where are my boots?’ she called, assuming he’d taken them off last night.
‘You were sick on them.’ Paul poked his head back around the door and gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Looks like we’ll have to get you a new pair, when you’re up to it.’
Crap. Sophie’s heart sank. She found a use for the tissue after all, dabbing at the tears that sprang from her eyes, despite herself. She shouldn’t feel bereaved over a bloody pair of boots, but those were her new Red or Dead boots. More importantly, Justin had gone with her to buy them the week before their world had been blown apart. It shouldn’t matter. But it did.
Testing the floor with her feet, Sophie heaved herself up, feeling in need of Luke’s little pink elephant toy, the only link to her past and something she had made sure to bring with her.
Wobbling as she went, she dropped to her knees and delved into her bag, and then delved deeper. It wasn’t there! She did the whole pulling-stuff-out thing all over again. She’d had it here. She was sure she had. Hadn’t she? And now it wasn’t here.
She’d lost it. The one thing she’d wanted to keep above everything else.
‘I’m so sorry, Luke,’ she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘So sorry.’ She was sure she could hear his happy little gurgles above the distant rumble of traffic, that she would see her beautiful baby brother again soon. She missed him so much. Sometimes, she would close her eyes, sure that when she opened them, he would be here. Sophie’s heart twisted inside her as she remembered Luke’s flailing little arms, his squeals of delight as she laughed and cooed at him and pressed his pink elephant to his cute button nose, the way his true baby-blue eyes would grow wide with excitement when they alighted on her coming into his nursery.
She’d been sure she could do this, survive on her own. She had no choice but to.
But now, her chest felt so tight she could hardly breathe.
Thirty-Eight
ALICIA
‘Paul again?’ Jessica asked, obviously noting Alicia’s wary expression as she checked her incoming call.
Alicia nodded, her heart, already heavy with guilt and confusion, plummeting like a lead weight in her chest.
‘Persistent, isn’t he?’ Jessica gave her an unimpressed look. ‘Are you going to answer it?’ she asked, turning to fill up the kettle.
She had no choice but to, Alicia realised. However much she told him she didn’t want to speak to him, have anything to do with him unless through legal channels, he just wouldn’t stop. Why? What could he possibly hope to gain? He didn’t want to suddenly take an interest in Sophie. He hadn’t even enquired after her, for God’s sake. And if, by the remotest, most unbelievable chance, he did want to figure things out with Sophie, then surely he must realise that this way wasn’t going to achieve anything.
Hesitating for a second, Alicia steeled herself and took the call.
‘Why are you doing this, Paul? Why are you harassing me?’ she said, before he could speak.
‘Harassing?’ Paul laughed, incredulous. ‘I’m not harassing you, Alicia. I’m simply trying to have a civil conversation with you about my daughter. Surely you have to concede you owe me that much?’
His daughter? Hearing him speak the words, laying claim to her as if she was his, not even caring enough to ask how Sophie might feel, how she might be, where she might be, Alicia swallowed back her contempt. She’s not here! She wanted to scream at it him. She’s not here – because of you! She would never let him near her. Never.
‘Look, Alicia, I just want to see you.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I don’t want to cause you more heartache. That’s the last thing I would ever want to do. I just want to talk, that’s all, one-to-one, not over the phone. We can sort this out, surely? I’m not an unreasonable man.’
Didn’t want to cause her more heartache? Alicia could hardly breathe.
‘You said your husband knows about us,’ Paul went on.
Alicia didn’t answer. How could she, without playing into his hands?
‘Does he know there’s a possibility Sophie might not be his?’
Alicia gripped her phone hard, praying this conversation wasn’t heading where she thought it might be.