‘To be honest, it takes my mind off the pain,’ she told him.
He was steaming ahead with Riders. He was actually starting to enjoy the story and wanted to know what happened next. It was like being in a little bubble, just him and Alice in her private room. The nurse brought them pinky-brown tea in green cups, and he brought in more chocolate.
‘I’m going to get so fat,’ complained Alice. ‘I won’t fit into my wedding dress.’
Good, thought Dillon. He wanted Alice to get better, but he’d been hoping and praying that the wedding would be postponed because of her injuries. She seemed determined though. Even though she was in terrible pain, she pushed herself to do her physio.
‘I’m walking up that aisle without crutches if it kills me,’ she told him.
It exhausted her, though she tried to pretend it didn’t. She was lying with her eyes shut as he read. He wasn’t sure if she was asleep but it didn’t matter. He could always go back and read the chapter again.
He stopped.
She opened her eyes.
‘Do you want me to carry on?’
‘No.’ She sat up. ‘I want you to do something for me.’
‘Anything, you know that.’
‘I’m going to take off the bandage on my face and I want you to look at my scar and tell me how awful it is. I can’t look at it myself. But I need to know if it’s too bad to get married.’
‘OK.’
She picked at the tape holding the gauze in place.
Dillon tried not to show his distress. ‘Careful.’
Gently she pulled back the dressing. Underneath was a livid red gash, a v-shaped wound on her cheekbone.
‘It should go down and the redness should go and it will fade a bit,’ Alice was gabbling. ‘But is it really horrific? Is it Frankenstein stuff? Do I look like Herman Munster? All I’m worried about at the moment is not looking awful at the wedding. If it’s really bad I’ll have to call it off. I want you to be really honest.’
Dillon looked long and hard at the wound. His mind was racing. If he told her it was terrible, then maybe, just maybe, she would postpone the wedding. And in the meantime, he would get a chance to bury Hugh, somehow. Get him to show his true colours so the wedding would be called off for ever and ever. Maybe he could get some coke off Pogo, then offer it to Hugh. Offer him a better deal. He wasn’t sure he’d make a very convincing drug dealer, but he thought it would probably suit Hugh to have a supplier on the premises at Peasebrook …
No, thought Dillon. He wouldn’t be able to pull it off. Hugh would be instantly suspicious.
He couldn’t do it to her, though. To him, it wouldn’t matter if her whole face were scarred: she was beautiful.
‘It’s just a bit red and swollen,’ he told her.
‘Really?’ she said. ‘I mean, I can have my hair over my face and I’ll have a veil …’
‘Honestly,’ said Dillon. ‘No one will notice it.’
She sighed. ‘You’re the only person I can trust to tell me the truth. Everyone else is just lying to make me feel better. And none of them wants the wedding to be cancelled. But I know it doesn’t matter to you either way.’
That couldn’t be further from the truth, thought Dillon. If anyone wants that wedding stopped, it’s me.
‘Hugh keeps telling me not to worry and I don’t want to go on about it because it just make him feel more guilty about the accident.’
Dillon felt so angry he almost couldn’t breathe. The bastard hadn’t felt a moment’s guilt.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Alice.
‘Fine. It’s just a bit stuffy in here.’
‘I know. It’s awful at night. I can hardly sleep. But I should be out of here soon.’
‘That’s good news.’
‘I’ll go mad if I have to stay in here much longer. I’d go mad if it wasn’t for your visits. Mum nips in every day, but she and Dad are so busy with Peasebrook and Hugh’s working like a lunatic so he can get time off for the wedding and the honeymoon—’
‘Please,’ he interrupted her. ‘I don’t want to hear any more about the wedding.’
Alice looked startled.
He reached over and touched her face gently.
‘You’re beautiful. You do know that?’
She was staring at him. Time stood still for a moment. He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.
‘You poor little chick.’
He knew he was touching her for longer than was necessary. But she didn’t seem to mind. She seemed frozen to the spot.
‘Oh Dillon,’ she said.
‘What?’
Her face scrumpled with confusion. ‘You make me feel funny. That’s what.’
‘Funny.’ He smiled. ‘I was trying to make you feel better.’
‘You do! That’s the point – you make me feel as if it doesn’t matter how I look.’
‘Well, of course it doesn’t.’
She bit her lip. ‘Thank you …’