‘Dillon!’ There was no hiding her delight.
He came in and held out the Terry’s chocolate orange he’d brought her.
‘I got you this.’
‘My absolute favourite! Let’s open it right now.’ She shuffled over and patted the bed next to her. ‘Come and sit down and tell me everything.’
He sat and started opening the box. He tapped the chocolate orange on the bedside table so it fell into segments, and fed them to her one by one as they talked.
‘I’m so bored cooped up in here. I really want to go on a ward, so I’ve got people to talk to, but Hugh’s insisted on a private room. It makes me feel as if people think I think I’m something special.’
‘Well, you are,’ said Dillon, smiling.
‘No, I’m not. And there’s so much to do at Peasebrook – Mum refuses to let me know what’s going on and tells me not to worry, but I worry more not knowing. What is going on?’
‘Everything’s under control, I think. Your mum’s doing a lot. And your dad, actually.’
Alice perked up as she had a sudden thought.
‘Could you do me a favour?’
‘What?’
‘Could you bring in my laptop? So I can check up on everything? I’ve asked Mum but she keeps forgetting. Accidentally on purpose, I think.’ Alice put her head to one side and looked at Dillon, eyes bright. ‘It’s in the estate office. The girls will know where it is. And don’t forget the cable.’
‘OK,’ said Dillon, pleased he could do something for her. ‘But should you be worrying about work?’
‘I can’t not worry. It’s impossible.’
‘You should try. Or you won’t get better.’
‘Honestly, you’re just like Mum. She’s worried I won’t get better in time for the wedding. To be honest, I’m starting to wonder if I should just cancel it. But if I do, I won’t be able to get married until next year, because Christmas will get in the way.’
‘What’s wrong with waiting till next year?’ Dillon felt a leap of hope. Given another year hideous Hugh might show his true colours.
‘No. We’ve got plans in place. Hugh wants to give up his flat and move into the cottage as soon as possible. We’ll forge ahead.’ She looked at her leg. ‘I’ve just got one more operation on this and then – then they’ve got a consultant coming to look at my face … They said it could be much worse. I could have lost my eye. So I’m lucky really. Aren’t I?’
She smiled at him, and he wanted to scoop her up in his arms because she was so brave, sitting there with her face all battered, thinking she was lucky. He didn’t know what to say. Yes, in a way she was lucky. He shuddered when he thought about what could have happened. But the whole thing could have been prevented. If it wasn’t for the awful man she was about to marry.
He wondered about telling her his suspicions about Hugh on the night of the accident. But Alice was so sweet natured, so trusting, she wouldn’t believe a word of it. She would give Hugh the benefit of the doubt. Dillon would just sound spiteful. And of course, he didn’t have any proof, except Brian’s hypothesis. He had nothing to go on except speculation and gossip.
Alice pointed to a book on the bedside table.
‘Read to me for a bit, would you?’ she said, changing the subject. ‘Mum brought me this in earlier. And I’m getting tired. That’s the thing that gets me. I feel all right and then I get exhausted.’ She sighed.
‘Snuggle down then,’ he told her. He picked up the book. Riders, by Jilly Cooper. It was huge. He flipped it open.
‘I’m not a very good reader,’ he warned her.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘I almost know it off by heart. I’ve read it about twenty times.’
‘What’s the point of hearing it again, then?’
‘It’s literally the best book in the world.’ She managed a smile. ‘There are some rude bits, though. Really rude.’
He laughed, and began to read. He felt awkward at first, but he began to get into the story: a bunch of colourful characters vying for hearts and trophies. The room was warm, a bit stuffy, and after a while he could see Alice was falling asleep, so he stopped.
She opened her eyes as soon as he stopped.
‘I’m not asleep.’
‘Maybe you should go to sleep.’ He patted her.
She closed her eyes again. ‘That’s who you remind me of,’ she murmured.
‘Who?’
‘Jake Lovell. The gypsy boy. Everyone else at school loved Rupert Campbell-Black, but I always like Jake best. You remind me of him.’
‘Oh.’ Dillon looked down, not sure if this was a compliment.
‘It’s a good thing. Rupert Campbell-Black was a beast. But Jake was lovely.’
It was as if she was talking about real people. He closed the book and put it back on the bedside table.
‘I better go,’ he said. ‘Visiting time’s nearly over.’
‘You’ll come again, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
He wasn’t sure whether to kiss her goodbye. She put up her arms.
‘Give me a hug. I need a big hug.’