With a final scrub of the counters and a quick check that everything was prepared for the next day, she exited the centre—then turned as she heard her name being called.
‘Hi, Gemma. Is everything OK?’
‘Yes. I just wanted to say thank you. Everyone has told us how fantastic you’ve been—with the food, and the way you’ve really listened to people and helped them.’
‘There is no need to thank me. I have been bowled over by how brave all these people are. God knows I wish I could do more.’
‘I think you can. That’s what I wanted to ask you. If you’d write about it all—about the centre, about all these people... I know the Prince is doing his best, and I know Marcus is too. But if more awareness could be raised maybe we could fundraise more—maybe we could make the world see that even places like Lycander, where the rich and famous hob-nob, have a darker side.’
For a second April’s mind buzzed with the idea and she considered taking it on, getting involved... And then cold, hard sanity screeched in and put a stop to such a nonsensical idea. Getting involved was exactly what had pitchforked her into the horrendous entanglement she was in now.
Ever since she had met Marcus something had happened to her. Willy-nilly, she’d taken a step away from the bubble-like, insulated existence she had created. Prompted by the unfurling of unwanted, unbidden feelings and desires, she’d been stupid enough to expose herself—and it needed to stop now. Before, her life had been the way she wanted it and, dammit, one way or another she had to get back into that bubble.
‘I’m sorry, Gemma. I’m a celebrity lifestyle writer. I wouldn’t be able to do the story the justice it deserves.’
The disappointment on Gemma’s face pierced her, but she forced herself to stand by her words. In six days, no matter what, she would leave Lycander—leave all this behind her.
‘You could do it if you wanted to,’ Gemma said simply. ‘You’re choosing not to.’
April tried to think of a response, but knew anything she said would sound like an excuse. How could she explain to Gemma that she might be pregnant, that even if she wasn’t she had to get away? The world outside her safe, calm bubble was too bright, too overwhelming, too scary.
‘I’m sorry,’ was the best she could come up with.
‘Don’t worry about it. And thank you again for all your help at the centre.’
Swivelling on her heel, Gemma turned back towards the community centre and April tamped down the guilt and headed for the sleek black car that had pulled up at the kerb.
Marcus emerged and opened the door for her, then waited as she slid in before climbing in after her.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Fine. It went well today. But it’s sad to see all those people who have lost so much. I am impressed with how efficient and well organised the services are—and Frederick has promised temporary accommodation to all who need it and he seems to be making good on that promise.’
She glanced at him.
‘That can’t be easy to get sorted, and I’m guessing that you have spent a large part of your day on it.’ He looked tired, with dark smudges under his eyes, and she wondered when he’d last actually slept.
‘It’s not only that. It’s about how to sort out the housing issue. This can’t happen again, so that means new houses will have to be constructed properly. And that means continued upheaval and, of course, a need for revenue.’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, that isn’t your problem.’
‘Are you sure you want to see your parents tonight? I didn’t mean it had to be instantly.’
‘That’s fine—at least we won’t have to cook. I’ve said that you have a dairy allergy. That way you can avoid eggs and unpasteurised cheese or milk without having to explain why.’
Warmth touched her that somewhere in his day Marcus had found time to research the foods that pregnant women needed to avoid.
‘Thank you.’
‘There is something I need to tell you. It’s not a big deal, but it may come up. Elvira and I are adopted.’
It was impossible to read his expression. His features were silhouetted against the dusky Lycander evening. Her brain whirred as she processed the information and its meaning, and guilt smote her anew. Her decision to choose adoption if she was pregnant must have resonated with him on such a deep level.
‘I... I don’t know what to say.’
‘There is no need to say anything.’ His voice was flat. ‘And please don’t jump to any conclusions. Adoption was the very best option for Elvira and for me, and I have nothing but gratitude that we were taken in.’
A glance out of the window and he nodded.
‘We’re here.’