Liz Fielding - Wedded in a Whirlwind

So Fliss Grant was in love with him, Manda thought, feeling almost sorry for the woman. If he’d loved her in return she would never have written the book…

‘Did she give you back your documents?’

It wouldn’t hurt to remind him of what she’d done.

‘There was no need. I had backup copies of everything. She knew that.’

‘Of course you did.’ Then, ‘So, here you are. Finally. It took you two months to make up my head start of thirty seconds?’

‘I got held up in the village. It was my home for nearly five years…’

‘I’m sorry, Nick. Of course you had to stay. Was it terrible?’

‘No. Just a bit of a mess. Nothing that hard work and a few dollars couldn’t fix.’

‘Money that you supplied.’

He shrugged. ‘It was nothing. I stayed for a week, made sure everything was back on track for them, that’s all.’

Far from all, she suspected…

‘And then?’

‘And then…’ He looked at her for a moment, the smallest smile creasing the corners of his mouth, his eyes. ‘And then, my dearest heart, we both had things to do. Everything happened so fast between us.’

‘Was it fast? It seemed like a lifetime, everything slowed down…’

‘Facing death, everything becomes concentrated, intense. We needed time to catch up. Time with our families. Time for work.’ He took her hand, slid his fingers through hers. ‘The future was waiting for us. We’ve finally caught up with it.’ Then, ‘Are you free after the screening? Can we have dinner? Talk?’

‘Talk? What about?’

‘Book signings. Your documentary. The fact that you knew my father and never told me. The rest of our lives.’

The rest of their lives?

She opened her mouth, closed it again.

‘The rest of our lives?’ she repeated. Then shook her head. ‘No…You can’t…’

‘I’ve spent the last two months thinking about you in every waking hour. Dreaming about you in every sleeping one. And the truth is, Miranda, I can’t not. I want to be with you. Always. Marry me.’

‘Manda? We’re about to begin.’

She looked round, realised that the room was empty apart from Daisy, who was holding the screening room door open.

‘Go ahead without me,’ she said.

‘But…’

‘I’ll catch the rerun, Daisy. Right now, I’ve got the rest of my life to plan.’

They found a small Italian bistro nearby. Manda couldn’t have said what she ate, or how it tasted, or even what they talked about. Only that they talked and laughed and that suddenly everything was in its place.

When they finally emerged into the chill of the December night, Christmas lights everywhere, Nick said, ‘How did you get here?’

‘By cab.’

‘Me too.’ He looked up and down the street. ‘We’re not likely to pick one up here at this time of night.’ He held out his elbow and she tucked her arm around his. ‘Which way?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, in no hurry to find a cab, let go of this moment. End the evening. ‘What will you do now?’ she asked as they began to walk.

‘I’ve been offered a chair at the university.’

‘Here in London?’ She thought about Cordillera. The wildness of the rainforest. A magical pool where a man and woman could pretend they were in Eden. ‘It would be very different from what you’re used to. Won’t you miss fieldwork?’

‘The aching back, the lack of basic facilities, the shortage of funding?’

‘The magic moment when you find something that’s a piece of the jigsaw,’ she prompted, not believing him for a moment. ‘That helps bring the picture of ancient lives into focus?’

He glanced at her. ‘I’d still get my hands dirty once in a while,’ He said. ‘Not in Cordillera. The structures are not safe. But we’re running other sites. And the slightly higher than average profile I’ve achieved, thanks to the earthquake, will be a big help in raising funds.’

‘So? You’re going to take it?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m waiting for the right incentive package.’

‘Oh.’ They turned into a major shopping street. A cab stopped outside a restaurant to disgorge its passengers. They ignored it. Walked on. ‘What kind of incentive would it take?’

‘I’ll know when I hear it.’ He glanced at her. ‘What about you? Where do you go from here?’

She shook her head, coming back to the real world. ‘I can’t think of anything but Rosie at the moment.’

‘The little girl you rescued?’

Manda stopped.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘She ran away, Nick. Months ago. I only found out today.’ Her breath condensed in the freezing air. ‘She’s out here somewhere, in the city.’ Then, looking around, realised where she was. ‘Oh, God. This is where we found her. Just down here.’

And she pulled away and ran down a side alley, coming to an abrupt halt as she saw the Dumpster. For one crazy moment she’d thought she be there, digging around for food.

She turned and laid her face against Nick’s coat as he caught up with her, put his arms around her.

‘She’ll die, Nick. I’ve let her down. I should have been there.’

‘Shh.’ She felt his breath against her hair as he kissed her, but she pulled away.

‘Rosie! Do you hear me?’ she called. ‘I’m not giving up on you. I’ll come back tomorrow. Search every alleyway in London if I have to, but you will not die, do you hear me?’

She clapped her hands over her mouth. Shook her head. Tears freezing on her cheeks.

‘Manda…’

‘What?’ she asked crossly, rubbing a glove across her face. Then she realised that he wasn’t looking at her but over her head and swung round, caught her breath as she saw the small, defiant figure standing glaring at them.

‘Rosie?’

‘Is he your boyfriend?’ she demanded.

Manda swallowed.

He’d said ‘the rest of our lives’ but it was too soon for anything except knowing how much she had missed him. How much she wanted him to stay. How much she loved him.

‘This is Nick, Rosie,’ she said, grabbing all of those things and putting them together. ‘He saved my life.’

‘What did he do?’

‘I was falling, down into a horrible dark place, but he held on to me even when he might have fallen too. And I’m here to hold on to you.’ She crossed to the Dumpster, put her hand on the lid. ‘Hungry?’ she asked, knowing that she was going to have to open it. Knowing that she would do anything. Then, remembering something that Belle had told her about living on the streets as a child-the one thing they’d have given anything for-she said, ‘Or maybe you’d like to come to my place and I’ll make you a bacon sandwich. With ketchup.’

‘Is your boyfriend coming?’

Nick Jago looked at this beautiful woman. He’d loved her before he’d even seen her, he realised, his heart stolen by the mixture of strength, vulnerability-something more that made her everything she was. Then, when he’d seen her, his eyes had confirmed everything his heart had already known. It was as if his entire world had been shaken to bits and then, when it had been put back together, everything had somehow fallen into place. And then she had gone, whirled away from him in a helicopter before he could say the words. Still running?

He didn’t know, but he’d given her space, given himself space for the whirlwind of feelings to be blown away.

But it hadn’t happened. Sometimes, in the darkest moment, you met your destiny and he knew, without doubt, that she was his.

‘I’m not Miranda’s boyfriend, Rosie,’ he said, moving to join her. ‘I’m the man she’s going to marry.’

And when Miranda turned to stare at him, he held her gaze, daring her to deny it. She didn’t. Her silence was all he needed and, taking off his coat, he said, ‘You know that incentive to stay in London that I was talking about?’