Resisting Her English Doc

“What’s that for?” The far wall had been whitewashed, and a long stepladder stood at either end.

“Wait and see.” Fleur grinned mysteriously, surveying the scene in front of her. “I think this is going to do...”

“Fleur... Okay for the lights?” A young man clad in jeans and a tattered rock-band T-shirt hurried toward her. It was impossible to tell whether this was a costume or what he usually wore.

“Yes, let’s do it.” Fleur was obviously in her element here, creating a backdrop that implied surprise and excitement. Rick’s own simmering exhilaration was tempered by the thought that this was her world and not his.

A shout went up, telling everyone to stand still for a moment. The space was suddenly plunged into an eerie, silent darkness, before a switch was thrown and spotlights flashed on. The peeling paint, the high metal beams above their heads and the cracked and grimy windows suddenly flashed into sharp focus.

“Whoa! Way to go...” One of the Brady boys voiced Rick’s amazement. Just as she had in the library, Fleur had created a tangible atmosphere, using just light and shadow.

Fleur nodded, smiling at the young man in the T-shirt. “That’s great, Brandon. Just as I imagined it. Better... Are we going to light the centerpiece?”

“We thought we’d give you the honor.” Brandon handed her a long taper and a box of matches. She grinned at him, taking Rick’s hand and leading him over to a fire pit, surrounded by a barrier of breeze blocks to keep it safely under control.

“Help me...” She whispered into Rick’s ear, and he helped her up onto one of the breeze blocks, holding her arm to keep her steady as she straightened. Then she called at the top of her voice.

“Everyone... Everyone, thank you. You all know what this evening means, and that we’re raising money to change lives. Thank you all for giving your time and your talents. You’re all heroes.”

Rick lit the taper and handed it up to her. She held it to a fuse, which fizzed for a moment and then the middle of the pile began to flicker with flame. A chorus of whoops and whistles emanated from a group of men and women in one corner, and spread around the space. Fleur climbed carefully back down again, straight into Rick’s arms, and he felt her body trembling against his.

“Now all we need is the people...” Her voice was suddenly strained and small. Rick hugged her tight.

“They’ll come. Mark my words.”

* * *

Rick was right. As always, he’d been there for her when she’d needed him most, and he’d been right. When the first of the guests arrived, the dance troupe swung into action. Jugglers and dancers, strolling amongst the long dresses and pristine suits of the guests. A magician, dressed in a battered top hat and tails, with no shirt underneath, just braces and a pair of jeans with hobnail boots. The costumes looked as if they’d been scavenged from dumpsters, but in fact they were part of the dance company’s extensive wardrobe.

Pamela arrived on her husband’s arm, looking glamorous in a black dress, with long gloves and diamonds flashing at her neck. She chivvied a large group of partygoers over to the drinks table, accepting a jam jar as if it were a lead crystal glass.

“Pam’s come through for me. She’s brought the whole Vandenberg clan, from the looks of it...” Fleur waved to her, hanging onto Rick’s arm.

“They’re all Pamela’s family?” Rick was eyeing them with surprise.

“Yes, I told you that Pam could do the society diva thing when she wanted to. The Vandenbergs are one of the biggest families in Boston. And the richest.” Fleur looked around, checking that everything was going as planned. “I think we need to get the graffiti going.”

“Whatever you say, darling.” Rick caught her hand, kissing it, and Fleur laughed. He could out-charm everyone in the place.

Fleur waved to the two graffiti artists, giving the signal to get started. Jamie climbed a step ladder, starting at the top of the whitewashed wall, and Sara went to the far end, starting at the bottom by spraying her own signature, surrounded by brightly colored flowers. People started to gravitate toward them, curious to see what they were doing, and Sara began to chat to them, asking for their names and shouting them up to Jamie.

Jamie was painfully shy, and didn’t talk much, but he was an artist with a spray can. Stylized initials with designs around them started to fill the wall, and the top hat next to the paint cans on the trestle table started to fill up with money.

“Where did you find these two? They’re very good.” Rick was watching the young artists work with obvious approval.

“Jamie was in a car accident a few years ago and fractured his wrist. It didn’t heal properly and Alex and Cody took him on as one of the clinic’s first free patients. The corrective surgery that Cody performed allowed him to paint again. Sara’s his sister.”

Rick nodded. “So they’re giving something back tonight. That’s really nice.”

“Yes, it is.” Fleur looked around, shivering in tremulous hope. “You think things are going well?”

He leaned over, kissing her. “Open your eyes, darling. Things are going a lot better than well.”

Rick left her alone for a moment, catching Sara’s attention and dropping a bill into the top hat. Their names were shouted up to Jamie, who turned for a second, shooting Fleur a shy smile. Then he sprayed hers and Rick’s initials, entwined together as if even their names knew how to make love.

“Thank you, Rick.” This was better than a red rose or an expensive corsage. Fleur looked at the initials, feeling a thrill of excitement.

“Everyone loves to see their names up on a wall...” Rick smiled down at her, his lips brushing her cheek.