The problem washim. The island needed someone with vision and hope, with faith, all the things Adam had lost. What was he? A man too afraid of getting too close because he had built a dream and watched it be destroyed. He couldn’t start again. He had nothing left to give.
“I will stay for a couple of weeks after the wedding, help you set up the clinic, even suggest contacts that might raise funds for you. But then I have to leave.”
George was quiet for a while. If he was planning a counterargument, he didn’t make it. Instead he asked, “What else do we need?”
“I understand you have a no-car policy on the island, but you cannot expect a labouring mother to cycle to the clinic.”
George sighed. “We have never had cars; it’s the basis for our International Dark Sky status. Did you know we were the first island to get the certificate?”
“Yes, your father told me. La Canette has a respected name for your night sky and spectacular stars. He’s very proud of this.”
“We all are. I have been seigneur for less than two years; I can’t break such an important tradition.”
“You do have tractors, though.”
“Not many, but yes, a few.”
“Could you accept a tractor-drawn ambulance?”
George sat up straighter. “You know, I think we can. In fact, that’s probably far better on country lanes. And we can make an exception for use of headlights at night for the ambulance.”
“And you need a speed boat as a marine ambulance to get serious cases to the hospital in Guernsey.”
Adam was on a roll. He hadn’t been conscious of planning this out in his head, but the details unrolled now like a film reel. The ideas spilled out of him, explaining how to organize the medical service, implement early testing and prevention, primary care…on and on and on he talked.
George waited until Adam finished. Then he walked over to the coffee machine inserted coins and made himself and Adam two coffees. When they were both sitting down again, he asked, “Off the top of your head, how much would this cost to run?”
“About four hundred thousand to set up and a quarter of a million per year to run. It’s a lot of money.” Adam knew this would be the make or break factor. He hadn’t run a successful clinic without learning a thing or two about finance.
“You should set up a trust fund and use the interest for the annual running costs. I can help you fundraise.” And he could.
God knew he’d been to enough high-profile fundraising events, met people with more money than they knew what to do with. He would help George find the capital; this way they would be sure the clinic would be safe and would deliver good care.
George studied him for a long moment without speaking. Silence was another negotiating tactic, Adam guessed.
“You know,” George finally observed. “For a man who claims he doesn’t want to be involved, you have thought a lot about this project.”
* * *
Adam gave it even mor thought. For two hours until Lord M was wheeled out of theatre and into a recovery room.
And then he thought about it all night in his hotel bed.
He knew what it would take to run this project and make a difference to La Canette. He knew how to find the money to fund it.
He knew a lot of things, a hell of a lot of things.
Except for one thing. How to take a risk with his heart. That organ he’d spent five year trying to kill. Had he succeeded? Was there any of it left that could still come back to life?
Laura.
An image swam into his head, her easy smile, the flame in her dark eyes.
He turned on his side and sighed.Laura, oh, Laura.
He could easily stay for her, see where the relationship went. She, too, was guarded, had lost her faith in love. They were both on the cliff edge and it would take very little to fall in love.
He turned again and fisted the sheets into his left hand. He could see the faint band of pale skin on his fourth finger, the mark, nearly tanned away. But the mark on his mind was not so easily hidden. In his wallet, tucked into a deep pocket, was the gold ring he didn’t want to look at.
