Another set of flashing lights, accompanied by another wailing siren took everyone’s attention – an ambulance picked its way up the drive and came to rest beside them all with a final flick of granite chips.
Madame Beaufoy ushered the paramedic across to where Fran stood, eyes puffy from her tears and expression forlorn enough to make Johnny blink hard to get himself under control. He reinstated his hand on Fran’s shoulder, intending to interpret, to explain to the medic what had happened. But she shook his hand off and headed towards the ambulance without a backward glance.
Fran knew Johnny was only trying to help, but she couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear anyone’s sympathy or attention. Couldn’t cope with his tender, reassuring touch on her shoulder. Once the tears had begun to fall, it was as though her body had been overtaken by a waterfall of emotion. And once she’d allowed the torrent to find an exit route, she didn’t seem able to stop it. Like a swollen flood-season river finally breaking its banks, there was no force strong enough to prevent the water from flowing wherever it chose.
It was about Red. The loss of that beautiful little creature and the time she would never be able to spend with him, the harsh possibility of a life cut short. It was about far more than Red. She was back in Lyme Regis, in her mind, when they came to find her to tell her about her mum’s accident. She was back on one of those desperately uncomfortable plastic moulded chairs in thehospital, holding on to the hand of the only person who had ever loved her unconditionally. Listening to the beeps and hiss of a machine keeping the body of her mother alive. A woman who had given up everything to give Fran a life. A woman who Fran knew was never going to wake up, however hard she wished for it.
It didn’t matter how much she wanted five more minutes with her mother, what she would have given for one last chance to tell her mum how much she loved her, Fran had this snatched away from her. The memory of the mundanity of their final words to one another earlier that fateful day haunted her with a fresh layer of helplessness. A fresh dousing of sadness, the grief from that time was back – worse, if that was possible – sharp like lemon juice in an open cut, mixing with her sadness at losing Red and shutting her away into a dark, cold place.
‘Where is Fran? I need to make sure she’s OK,’ Penny asked Madame Beaufoy, having made her way through the crowds until she came upon the manager.
‘She’s being seen by the paramedics before they take her to hospital.’
‘What happened? Is it serious?’ Penny couldn’t stop the panic rising as her mind crowded with worst-case scenarios.
‘They say she’ll be fine. She fell and took a blow to her head while she searched for that damned cat. She was unconscious for a while so they will keep her in the hospital overnight.’
The news brought more tears to the corners of Penny’s eyes, only made worse when Madame Beaufoy took hold of her arm, squeezing tight before letting her go.
‘We are all worried, but I think you will be taking this news harder than some. You care for Fran, don’t you?’
Penny did her best to style out the tear as it bulged and fell, twizzling a hand as if she was pushing a non-existent hair from her face, while she used the back of it to wipe at her eye.
‘I’m not proud of myself that day in the office; I was hurt and lashed out at Fran, and now I regret the things I said. The thought of her in danger and never getting the chance to explain myself, to apologise, is …’ She was desperately trying hard to hold back the tears.
Harry suddenly appeared at Penny’s shoulder, and one look at her face had him wrapping an arm around her. The action had Penny confused, because she still didn’t know where they stood – was this a friendly gesture of support, or something more? Ever since he showed up in the hotel, ready to save her, she was struggling to read through all the mixed messaging. Though one thing was for sure: Harry had a fiancée back home, an entire life he’d chosen to hide from her. There was no way Penny should be tucked against the secure contours of his body, but she didn’t have the energy to pull away, or the inclination. After spending so long wanting nothing more than to have this level of proximity to him, this moment mixed with the bittersweet truth of their situation wasn’t lost on her.
Harry, sensing Penny’s emotional turmoil, held on a bit tighter to her before saying, ‘There’s things we need to talk about too, Penny,’ he said.
A glance in his direction was enough to know his attention was fixed on her, but she made herself pull away from him, didn’t allow herself to be sucked in by his gaze, however much she wanted to be. There was a lot going through Penny’s mind and she needed to take things one step at time – and, right now, her priority was Fran.
‘I want to see her – when can I see Fran?’ she asked Madame Beaufoy, crossing her arms and focusing on her employer’s answer.
‘I do not know for sure, but I will arrange for you to visit her.’
‘I need to know, Madame Beaufoy.’
Madame Beaufoy told her to wait a minute before heading to the tall guy she recognised from table six, Fran’s cat search-party partner, asking him whether he would be willing to give Penny a lift to the hospital later that day.
‘I’d planned to fly home this afternoon,’ he was saying – which seemed to be news to his brother, if the latter’s expression was anything to go by. ‘But I don’t want to leave until I know Fran is all right.’
‘I believe you are booked with us for another night, anyway, Monsieur Taylor. And you will need time to recover from this drama. Monsieur, can I ask if it is all right to call you Johnny?’ Madame Beaufoy laid on her most charming smile. Penny edged closer.
‘Of course,’ he replied.
‘It looks as though Chateau les Champs d’Or will stand for a few more centuries, I think it has been very fortunate not to have suffered any significant damage. And it would be a great shame if you cut short your visit unnecessarily.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Forgive my presumption, but I think you have become a good friend of Fran’s,n’est ce pas?’
Wily old goat, Penny thought as Johnny’s expression morphed through a rainbow of emotions.
‘I thought I had,’ he replied.
‘Visit her inl’hôpital, Johnny. Recently, Fran has had much change in her life, and sometimes it is hard for us to see … what is the expression … the branches for the trees – is that right?’
Johnny grinned, and in that moment, Penny could see why Fran was having difficulty trying to pretend she felt nothing for the bloke. When he dropped his serious, professional man act, he was dead sexy.
