From Doctor to Princess? - Page 8

‘No, Hugo. You said we’d take things as they came and that you’d accept my help. Let’s give that a trial run now, shall we?’ Hugo hesitated and she glared at him. ‘I’m not going to walk in there and order him out.’

Silently he walked back through the doorway, and Nell followed him. Jacob turned to Hugo, a fond smile on his face. ‘Hugo, my boy... What’s going on?’

‘Nothing. It’s all right, Jacob. I’ve asked Nell to join us.’

‘Very good.’ Jacob seemed to approve of the plan, gesturing towards the draughts, which lay on the chequerboard tabletop. ‘You play, miss?’

‘Not very well.’ Nell smiled at him.

‘Jacob taught me to play thirty years ago.’ Hugo went to pull up a chair for Nell and thought better of it, allowing her to move it across to the table. ‘I used to sneak downstairs when my parents were out in the evening, and we’d play draughts and drink hot chocolate.’

‘Hot chocolate!’ Jacob’s eyes lit up suddenly, and he gestured towards the pot that lay on the coffee table, along with two gold-rimmed cups and saucers. ‘I remember now. Would you like some, miss?’

Maybe that would bring the evening to a close. ‘Thank you. I’ll get another cup, shall I?’

Nell glanced at Hugo, and he nodded, resuming his seat opposite Jacob. His smile barely concealed his fatigue and he was moving as if he was in pain. The sooner they could end, this the better.

As Nell walked to the kitchen, she heard the two men talking quietly in French behind her.

‘Who is she, Hugo?’

‘She’s a doctor, and her name’s Nell.’

Hugo repeated the words, no hint in his tone that this wasn’t the first time he’d told Jacob.

‘A doctor? What does she want?’ Jacob’s voice took on an air of perplexed worry.

‘She’s here for me. Not you, my friend.’ Hugo’s tone was smooth, reassuring.

‘Where’s she going?’

‘Just to get another cup. We’re having hot chocolate.’

‘Ah, yes. Hot chocolate and draughts...’

Jacob’s memory had become fragmented by time. Some things were still clear in his mind, but he was groping in the dark, trying to make sense of others. It was common in patients who had dementia, and it was clear that Hugo was trying to reassure Jacob by re-creating the sights and sounds of things he did remember. The sound the counters made on the draughts board. The taste of hot chocolate. But that was all coming with a cost to him.

She fetched the cup and re-joined the two men, wondering whether Hugo knew that she’d heard and understood their conversation. Smiling, she poured the hot chocolate and sat down. Jacob moved one of his pieces and Hugo chuckled quietly.

‘You have me...’ He made the only move possible, and Jacob responded by taking four of his counters in one go.

‘Another game?’ The old man still seemed wide awake, and Nell wondered how long this was going to go on before he tired and they could take him back to wherever he’d come from.

Hugo nodded, and Nell shot him a frown. He couldn’t do this all night, but it appeared that he was perfectly capable of trying if it kept Jacob happy.

‘Will you teach me, please? I know how to play, but I don’t know the tactics.’

‘Of course, mademoiselle.’ Perhaps Jacob had forgotten her name again, but he remembered how to play draughts, and that was the way that Nell could keep him occupied while Hugo rested.

Hugo stood, giving Nell his seat, and retreated to the sofa. As she and Jacob set out the pieces, ready to play, he seemed to be dozing.

At least Hugo was relaxing, now. As they played, Jacob became animated, suggesting better moves to Nell, slipping from French into English and then back again, sometimes in the course of one sentence. Finally he began to tire.

‘Hugo’s tired. He’s ready to go to bed now.’ Nell nodded towards Hugo. If Jacob had known him since he was a boy, then he would also remember taking care of him, and some part of that relationship would still exist somewhere in his head.

‘Is it time?’ Jacob glanced around the room and then at his own attire. ‘It must be. I’m wearing my pyjamas.’

That posed a second problem. Nell had no idea who Jacob was or where he’d come from. But Jacob turned, calling softly to Hugo.

Tags: Annie Claydon Billionaire Romance
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