Maybe she was batting for the other team. Nico tucked the thought away with satisfaction. That would explain a lot. Maybe she had been trying to deny her true preference when he’d seen her out with that man in The Cosmopolitan Club all those years ago. And even if she was now comfortable with who she was, in her position Charlotte probably wouldn’t want to come out of the closet and travel in the company of her girlfriend. Or wife, perhaps. It was none of his business and it didn’t bother him.
So why did that curious feeling of disappointment in not making eye contact with her a second ago suddenly deepen several notches?
‘The papers you are going to be privileged to hear today are from invited speakers who are leading their particular fields. I’m looking forward to hearing the discussions that will follow the presentations. Again, I must apologise for my unorthodox keynote speech but, on behalf of Dr Richard Campbell, our chairman for today, and the others involved in organising this satellite session, let me welcome you to our symposium on critical interventions.’
Nico joined the round of applause. His neighbour leaned sideways to say something about how moving the story had been and how good it was to be reminded of the human aspects of their science. But Nico merely murmured agreement. He couldn’t take his eyes off Charlotte. As if she felt his intense gaze, she looked up from her position at the front of the room.
So there, her gaze seemed to say. I did it—even if you did do your best to stop me.
After the awkward start to the day things were running smoothly. Richard was delighted. He smiled at Charlotte as they were preparing to follow the others out of the conference room for the lunch break.
‘Do you know, I think your introduction has allowed for some very interesting questions to be raised that people might not have considered appropriate otherwise. You’ve given this whole forum an informality that has brought people closer together. It was a stroke of brilliance.’
‘Thanks.’ Charlotte rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ease the tension that still hadn’t gone away completely. ‘It could have taken things in the opposite direction. I was lucky.’
‘I think everyone was impressed.’
Had Nicholas Moretti been impressed? And why did it matter so much that he had been?
‘I’m sure they’ll want to tell you that themselves, over lunch.’
Charlotte wasn’t at all sure she wanted that to happen. She might be used to talking to colleagues while balancing a plate of food and eating but the idea of doing that in Nico’s company seemed disturbingly…intimate?
Whatever. She had the perfect excuse.
‘I’m going to skip lunch, if you don’t mind, Richard. I’ll grab a sandwich or something but I really need to check on my grandmother and make sure she’s being taken care of. And that she has something to do for the afternoon. Goodness knows what kind of mischief she could get up to otherwise.’
Richard was grinning now. ‘She’s quite something, your grandmother. How old is she?’
‘Eighty-two. Going on about sixteen, I think. I often feel as if I’m in the company of a wayward teenager.’ Charlotte’s smile was fond. ‘And then, at other times, she comes out with the kind of wisdom and advice that only someone who’s experienced life to the full could have. She’s amazing.’
Richard patted her arm. ‘Go and catch up. I’ll give your excuses to anyone who asks.’
‘Thanks.’ Charlotte hurried out to the reception area, away from the dining room, and asked whether her grandmother had left a message for her.
‘No. But she’s had lunch delivered to your room. Would you like your key now?’
The room was massive and decorated in Venetian style with sumptuous drapes, bed coverings and deep armchairs all in tones of silver and soft bronze. There was a Persian rug on the floor beneath the chandelier hanging from an astonishingly high ceiling. A small table with spindly legs supported a silver tray that had plates of delicate-looking sandwiches and cakes, a pot of tea and cups.
The first thing that struck Charlotte was that the tray hadn’t been touched.
Almost at the same time she noted how tidy the room was. Where were the clothes strewn about that always happened when Geraldine was choosing her next outfit? the open guidebooks as she chose her next adventure?
And why on earth was her grandmother lying on a bed in the middle of the day? Lady Geraldine Highton might be eighty-two but she didn’t do naps. ‘Life’s too short,’ she always said. ‘And it’s getting shorter for me by the day. Why waste it by sleeping? I can sleep when I’m dead.’
‘Gran…’ Charlotte moved towards the bed. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Oh…’ Geraldine clearly hadn’t been expecting a visitor. She sat up swiftly, looking…embarrassed. No, make that guilty. ‘Charlie…I didn’t think I’d see you until this evening.’ The odd expression vanished, to be replaced by a beaming smile. ‘That was a wonderful talk you gave, darling. I can’t tell you how proud I was. And I understood every word. Well, almost every word. The next speaker was terribly dull in comparison. I went for a walk and watched the gondolas for a while. I might go for a ride in one after lunch. It’s been years…’
Charlotte sank down onto the edge of the second bed, facing her grandmother. Something here was off-key. Terribly off-key.
‘Gran…’ She reached out and took hold of a soft hand decorated with several diamond rings. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Whatever do you mean? Nothing’s going on, Charlotte. Come and have lunch with me.’ Lady Geraldine got to her feet but then her face changed. She couldn’t hide a grimace of pain and her hand went to her stomach.
‘You’re not well,’ Charlotte gasped. ‘That’s why you haven’t touched your lunch. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.’
‘Lie down,’ Charlotte ordered. ‘I want to have a look at you.’
For a long, long moment Geraldine looked undecided. But then she quietly lay down and answered the barrage of questions. Yes, she had abdominal pain. No, it wasn’t the first time. Yes, she’d been to see a doctor about it. She’d had a scan. She was booked to have a biopsy between Christmas and New Year.
A biopsy?
With absolute dread giving her a chill that almost made her shiver visibly, Charlotte quietly asked if she could feel her grandmother’s tummy and when she did, the hard edges of the mass she could feel confirmed her worst fear.
‘Did…did your doctor tell you what he thought it was after the scan?’
‘Oh, yes…’ Lady Geraldine took hold of Charlotte’s hand with both of hers. ‘He’s sure it’s some form of bowel cancer.’ Her voice wobbled. ‘I didn’t want you to find out, darling. Not yet.’
Charlotte’s voice was thick with tears. ‘Why not? You should have told me. I should have been there with you when you had your appointments.’
‘We’ve been planning this trip for so long. Going on the Orient Express has been on my bucket list for far too long.’ Unbelievably, Geraldine was smiling mischievously. ‘And what better time to fulfil a bucket list item than when you’ve been told the end probably isn’t that far off?’
‘Gran…We can’t spend thirty hours on a train. We have to fly back to London tonight. I’ll talk to people. We’ll find a way to bring that procedure forward so we can start treatment earlier.’
‘No way, Jose.’ The way Lady Geraldine’s eyes narrowed was a warning that she was not about to be contradicted. ‘I’ve taken some painkillers. I’ll be as right as rain after a little