Page 28

So, now he no longer wants to talk? She stared ahead and Caleb did the same. She wondered how long it would be until she could politely read or ask for the radio.

‘He had a bad accident recently. That’s why I was in London. I hadn’t visited him in a long time, and well, I was due a visit.’ Caleb’s words sounded like a confession. His concentration remained fixed on the road ahead, both hands clenching the steering wheel tightly.

‘What happened?’ She knew better than to ask how he was. When someone told you gravely that a person had had a ‘bad accident’, and they’d flown from America to visit, you knew it wasn’t going to be a good prognosis.

‘A stunt that went wrong a year ago – it should have been easy. I don’t even understand how it went wrong. It should have been run of the mill for Baz. He was meant to fall onto a cushion, but another performer missed the mark, and his cable failed. He fell fifty feet onto a car bonnet. He’ll never walk again, can’t breathe on his own and still has fits occasionally, something to do with the brain injury he suffered. They’ve suggested another operation, but I honestly don’t know if it’ll do any good. He’s in his fifties.’

‘Do you know the details of his op?’ she asked quietly, wondering if there was anything she could say to comfort him. Baz obviously meant a lot to him, and the nurse inside her wanted to help.

Caleb shook his head and glanced her way, worry clearly marked on the lines of his face, but with a glimmer of hope in his soft green eyes. ‘No, but I can find out.’

‘Which hospital is he at?’

‘The Royal.’

She nodded. ‘That’s my old hospital. They’ve a good team in neurology. He’ll be in safe hands, and they wouldn’t suggest an operation if they weren’t hopeful for the outcome. But I’m happy to help translate any medical speak if you or his family have any questions about his injury or treatment.’

‘Thanks.’ Caleb released a long breath, his fingers relaxing a little on the steering wheel. ‘I’ll ask. He’s got a wife and two kids – they’re grown up, in college now, but…’ He lifted his shoulders with a helpless expression. ‘They’re still devastated. This really isn’t a good job for a family man.’

If she’d felt more confident, she might have reached out and squeezed his arm. But she held back, unsure of what to do. ‘He must mean a lot to you.’

Caleb nodded. ‘I owe him…’ He frowned. ‘Everything.’ She didn’t think he was going to say anything more but then he added, ‘Baz did more than get me work. He gave me a place to stay, guidance, even helped me learn to drive. When I went to LA with him, he became my big brother as well as my unofficial guardian.’

Surprised, she asked, ‘Wait, your mum didn’t leave with you?’

Caleb laughed, but it sounded bitter. ‘No! She was so glad to see the back of me she packed my bags herself. She’d never even packed me a lunch before then.’

Hannah shook her head in disbelief. ‘Your mum was always so sweet and friendly. Everybody thought she was so cool…’ Her voice trailed off as she realised the truth. Cool mums were usually absent mums. Caleb’s mum had been really young, Hannah remembered that much – barely in her thirties; she must have only been a teen when she’d had him.

The few times she’d spent in Caleb’s flat tutoring him, they’d always been left alone. She remembered one time when his stepfather had visibly jumped with surprise when he and Caleb’s mum had come home to see them sat in the lounge studying together. ‘Jesus! Always creeping around like a ghoul! Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?’ Caleb’s mother had laughed, and ushered her drunk husband away, and Hannah had left shortly after, uncomfortably aware that she was no longer welcome – had Caleb always felt like that?

‘Yeah, she’s fun, I’ll give her that,’ agreed Caleb lightly. ‘But she never had any intention of going back to the States. She’d finally found her meal ticket with Paul. There was no way she was going to give that up. She was happy for me though, always encouraged me to follow my own path, and I’m grateful for that. I’d never have gotten anywhere with school, and Baz opened doors for me in the business. I owe him everything.’

‘Did you see her when you visited Baz?’

‘Briefly. She and Paul have moved out to the Cotswolds. I don’t know if you remember, but Paul was a lot older than her. He’s retired now, but they were in London for a show and I had dinner with them.’

‘Hmmm…’ she drawled. ‘By the lack of enthusiasm in your face, I’d guess it wasn’t much fun?’

Caleb nodded. ‘Paul never really liked me. I think he’s always shocked whenever he sees me. I guess I remind him that his hot trophy wife isn’t actually that young anymore, which is ironic considering he looks like he’s got one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel.’

Hannah snorted and Caleb grinned. ‘Exactly. Sounds harsh, but I think my mom’s waiting for him to kick it so she can go cruising around the world with his money. And, after living with him, I can’t really blame her.’

‘Fair enough,’ Hannah answered, although she still felt sorry for teenage Caleb. Barely fifteen, moving countries and living with a man he hardly knew. Being unwanted at home and having no other opportunities but to leave with yet another stranger a year and a half later. Even for someone as brave and outgoing as Caleb, it must have been difficult. ‘Well, Baz sounds lovely. I really hope the op goes well for him.’

There was an uncomfortable silence, and she picked up the coffee nearest to her. ‘Presume this is mine.’

‘Fancy mocha with influencer-approved syrup? I wasn’t sure what to get. You seem to order something different every time. The other one is a flat white.’

‘What can I say? I’m a mysterious gal!’ declared Hannah, sipping the mocha and then sighing with pleasure at the hazelnut and chocolate taste. ‘Perfect, thank you!’

He picked up his own and drank it with a secret smile. ‘Glad to hear it.’

‘So,’ she said casually, testing the waters, ‘this film it’s a bit bonkers, isn’t it? Aztec-rainforest vampires, desert fae, Greek temples—’

Caleb’s head tilted and he raised a brow. ‘Bonkers?’

‘Oh, come on! You must remember some British phrases. Bonkers, bat-shit crazy, you know.’