Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

‘He waited for twenty minutes, but she didn’t come down,’ the concierge replied. ‘I did call up a number of times but we got no response.’

Lachlan leaned against the brick wall of the restaurant, the phone still glued to his ear. ‘Have you seen her at all?’ he asked, trying to hide the note of alarm in his voice.

‘Not since she arrived back this afternoon. I’ve been sitting here since, and I haven’t set eyes on her.’

‘I’ve called her phone and she?

?s not answering. Can you send someone up to check on her?’

‘Of course.’ The concierge was reassuring. ‘I’ll ask John to go up.’

‘And call me straight back when you’re done.’

‘No problem.’

As he waited for the phone call, Lachlan stood outside the restaurant, checking in on Jurgen and Klaus through the plate-glass window. The two of them seemed happy enough, laughing and drinking from the second bottle of wine. Still, he knew they’d eventually notice he was taking too long.

Not that he really cared.

As soon as his phone rang he picked it up.

‘Mr MacLeish?’ The concierge again.

‘Yes? Is she there?’

‘John spoke to her through the intercom. She’s feeling unwell, said she was in bed, and she’d speak to you later.’

‘She’s sick?’ he asked. ‘Should we send for a doctor?’ His relief at her being in his apartment was quickly replaced by an anxiety at her illness.

‘John offered, but she refused.’

None of it made sense. If she was sick, why hadn’t she called him? ‘Thanks for checking on her.’

‘No problem, Mr MacLeish. Just call if you need anything else.’

He hung up and slid the phone into his pocket, a frown pulling at his lips. Then he walked in to give Jurgen and Klaus his excuses, before calling a car to pick him up.

It was time to go home and look after his girl.

28

A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue

– Love’s Labour’s Lost

She’d been so self-centred. She could see it all clearly now, as she zipped up her case and pulled it off the bed, rolling it out to the hallway. She left it next to the door, with her documents resting on top, waiting for the taxi that she’d already called.

The gift she’d bought for Lachlan was still in the hall, too, where she’d left it when she first walked in. She looked at it, twisting her fingers together, wondering what on earth she should do with the thing now.

It didn’t seem like the right time for gifts.

It didn’t seem like the right time for anything, other than to get home and do what she should have done all along. Make sure her family was okay, that it didn’t fall apart. That it wasn’t as fractured as the Kintsugi vase that dominated Lachlan’s hallway.

She checked her phone to see if the taxi had arrived yet, but there was no notification. Just some texts from Lachlan and some missed voicemails. Ones she planned to return just as soon as she was in the cab.

After her futile attempts to return Cesca’s call, her problem-solving skills had kicked into overdrive. Within thirty minutes she’d booked herself on the next plane to London, packed her bags and ordered a cab. Checking the taxi app, she saw her car was still ten minutes away. She shook her head. This was all her fault. She’d taken her eye off the ball, had thrown every piece of herself into this thing with Lachlan. She’d neglected her family and her career, the two things that had always meant everything to her.

For a moment she thought of that dress still hanging in its black bag, hooked on the back of his bedroom door. Thought of how she would have looked in his arms, the pale lace and silk champagne contrasting against his black dinner jacket. But it was all fake, wasn’t it?