“Get in.”
A woman who seemed to know and be liked by everyone, but who preferred to stay away from the town and skulk in her hospital room. It was a mystery worthy of any self-respecting crime novel, and one that was baffling Rick. He drove the length of Main Street until he reached a shop with gleaming paintwork and a neat fifties-style sign.
“This is the one?” He maneuvered into a parking space outside.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure? Because you’re coming in with me this time.”
“Okay. I’ll get you a grilled cheese sandwich.” She grinned at him. “One of the official residence requirements for the island. One of Fiona Brady’s grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“One of many, I’m thinking...”
“Hundreds.”
Fleur managed to get out of the car without his help this time, walking slowly across the sidewalk toward Brady’s Bistro and Bakery. A young, red-haired girl rushed forward to open the door for her, moving chrome-topped tables and chairs out of the way to allow Fleur through to one of the booths against the wall.
“What will you have, Fleur?” Their smiling waitress obviously knew Fleur too.
“We’ll take two grilled cheese sandwiches please, Jess. Make sure the tea’s good and strong, my doctor friend needs it. He’s just been into the Sunbeam bakery and asked Phoenix Flame if he’s got the cake for the clinic.”
The red-haired girl giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I’ll get Aunt Fiona to put the cake in a box for you.”
Two cups and saucers, edged with fifties-style patterns, were set on the table, followed by napkins and cutlery. The sandwiches looked crisp and well filled, set on matching plates. Fleur picked up the teapot and poured the tea.
Now was as good a time as any to broach the subject. Fleur couldn’t get back to the hospital without him, so she was about as much of a captive audience as she was ever going to be. There were plenty of breakables around, but he was just going to have to take that risk.
“So...the island’s a great place. From what I’ve seen of it so far.”
She nodded. “It’s lovely.”
“But you want to get back to Boston.”
“Yes, I do.” Fleur’s attention was on her sandwich as she nibbled carefully at one corner so as not to burn her mouth.
“I can help you with that. But it’s not going to be as easy as you think.”
She looked up at him. “And how easy do I think it’s going to be? Since you seem to know everything.”
Rick knew enough. He knew all about having his life shattered, and making every mistake in the book as a result of that. And he knew how hard it had been to pick himself back up and put it all together again.
“You think that Boston’s just a ferry ride away. That all you have to do is wait out your time at the clinic.”
“I wouldn’t say I was waiting it out. You know full well that I’ve been to all my physio sessions, even if I do only get graded as three out of five for them.” She treated him to a little jut of her chin, before turning her attention back to her food.
“I want more than that.”
“Why?”
Good question. Rick had two answers, and he gave her the one that her doctor ought to give. Wanting to be the one who saw Fleur’s zest for life rekindle in her eyes wasn’t relevant.
“Because you’re capable of more. You’re not failing at anything, and that’s because you’re not trying hard enough.”
“What? You want me to fail?”
“Yes, I want you to fail. And then I want you to get back up again and again until you eventually succeed. Don’t tell me that you don’t know how to do that.”
She twisted her mouth. “I know how to do it. But that life’s over for me now.”
“No, it’s not. It’s just a different challenge. Even if you can’t perform on stage again, it doesn’t mean that you can’t dance a little, and lead an entirely normal life.”
Fleur’s snort told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t happy with a normal life, she wanted the extraordinary. And nothing less meant anything to her.
“All right. But I’m going to write a new treatment plan for you. It’s going to set the bar a lot higher, but if you can complete it, then you won’t just be able to walk onto that ferry, you’ll be able to run onto it.”
“And if walking onto it is enough for me?”
“Fine. Stick to the old treatment plan. Be a loser.”
He could see the mortification in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her, tell her that she was no loser, and that he’d been wrong to suggest she might be. Then the determined set of her jaw stopped him.
“You think you can shame me into doing your treatment plan? You can’t, because you don’t know me. But I’ll do it anyway, just to show you that you’re not always right.”
Tenderness pumped through his heart. Being the bad guy wasn’t as easy as Rick had thought, but it was getting the response he wanted. That was all that mattered. Fleur’s welfare was all that mattered.
“Nothing would make me happier, Fleur. For you to show me that I know nothing...”
She twisted her lips into a smile. “Okay. Don’t let up on me now. That’s really confusing.”
She started to drink her tea, her attention caught by a group of women entering the tea shop. They piled a mountain of thick winter jackets into the young waitress’s arms and pushed four tables together to accommodate them all.
One caught sight of Fleur, smiling and waving. Fleur gave a half-hearted wave back, seeming suddenly ill at ease. Then another of the women whispered something to the woman next to her, and Rick caught the mention of Fleur’s name.
So what? Fleur was back on the island again and that was sure to excite comment. Rick was under no illusions that his own name had been bandied back and forth up and down Main Street as well. But this felt different. The woman who had whispered to her companion was contorting her face into a look of frank disapproval.
“Stupid little liar... Mollie still blames her for all of it...” The woman’s mouth framed the words and she stabbed her finger onto the table in front of her as if to emphasize the point. Her companion nodded.
The words meant nothing to Rick, but Fleur had clearly heard them too and they meant a great deal to her. She moved across the bench seat, shrinking against the wall, out of range of the women’s stares. Rick opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but Fleur refused to meet his gaze.
The chatter amongst the group of women rose and fell. Rick turned his attention to them again, and found that three of them were now looking straight at him and Fleur.
Defending her effectively was going to be problematic, since he had no idea what was going on here. But the look of mortification on Fleur’s face had cut him to the heart. She was here because he’d made her come. If Fleur couldn’t face these women, it was up to him to do it for her.
He smiled, returning their stares. “Good afternoon, ladies.”
Two of the women looked away quickly. One didn’t, but Rick could see that her cheeks were suddenly red with embarrassment. She nodded in his direction and then picked up the menu, as if it was the most important thing in the world and she had to study it immediately.
“I want to go.”