‘You did that?’ Eva’s voice was quiet.
‘Yes, I’m sorry it didn’t work.’
‘But it did. I may have lost my leg but I’m still here, and that’s thanks to you.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Anna was humbled. ‘I’m glad I could help.’ Once more she was thankful that she’d gone on that first aid course for The Whigmore. Some kind of instinct or retained learning must have kicked in, and it meant Eva was still alive.
‘You did more than help.’
‘I did come to see you at the hospital.’
‘I know, that’s where I got your number from. You left a note.’
‘Yes, of course I did. Sorry, I’m not thinking straight.’
‘It’s probably a shock to hear from me.’
‘Yes, it is a bit.’
‘Well, the thing is, I wonder if you can come and see me? I’ve got a favour to ask.’
‘Of course, whenever you like.’
‘How about tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow?’ Tomorrow Daniel was heading back up to Cheshire to do some research on his photography school project, and she’d been planning to go with him . . . but this seemed more important. She could always get the train up afterwards. ‘Tomorrow’s fine. What time?’
* * *
Anna sat next to Eva’s bed, feeling humbled by the young woman. She was obviously in a lot of pain, had lost her leg and probably her livelihood, all from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And yet here she was, looking positively upbeat.
‘I can’t believe that after everything that’s happened to you, you’ve still got a smile on your face.’
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, I have my bad days. I’ve lost so much, and life will never be the same again. But then I think about the people who didn’t survive and I give myself a stern talking to. Which is why I asked you to come and see me today.’
‘You wanted to ask me a favour?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I’ve been reading a lot about you recently. Since your exhibition. I’d have loved to have come and seen it, but obviously . . .’ She looked towards her leg.
‘I’m working on another one — maybe next time?’
‘I’ll definitely be there if I can. I’ve seen some of the photos online and they look incredible.’
‘Thank you.’ Anna felt the heat rise in her face. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to hearing praise about her work.
‘And you work for Daniel Redfern, is that right?’
‘Yes. That’s why we were at the fashion show. I’m his assistant.’
‘And he took the photos that have been inFashionista.’
Eva handed her the magazine and Anna saw the model’s face staring out at her. She couldn’t believe the difference betweenthe woman in the glossy pages to the diminutive person in the hospital bed, with no make-up and her blonde hair scraped back into a ponytail. Not that she wasn’t still beautiful, she just looked very different.
‘We weren’t sure what to do with the photos at first. We sent the unedited versions over to the magazine so the police could see them, but then they asked us to edit the ones of people who either died or who were injured, as they wanted to do a tribute to them. They did ask for your permission, didn’t they?’
‘Oh yes, of course they did.’
‘I wasn’t sure whether people would think it distasteful. But it wasn’t my decision to make.’
