Kierney Scott - Twice In A Lifetime

“I am sure you can. We have established that. You are obscenely rich and I am still as working class as you can get. You have a jet and I have a Fiat Punto that barely passed its MOT. If you are keeping score, that is another point to you.”

“You are the only one keeping score.” He sat down on the bed beside her. He took the menu from her. “What would you like?”

She shifted along the bed so their legs were no longer touching. She would like to not feel like the poor relation. She would like to feel as if she knew this stranger beside her. She would like to be on the flight home. There were a million things she wanted and none of them were being here with him. “No, thanks. I am not hungry.”

“I can hear your stomach growling.”

“I told you I can’t afford anything on the menu.”

“And I told you I could. I feel like we are talking in circles here. Just tell me what you would like.”

“I am not going to let you buy me dinner.”

“Why not? I am going to have dinner.”

“Because…” There was so much to say but her pride stopped her.

“Because you never want to be indebted to anyone. You always have to stand on your own two feet,” he said as if he were reading her mind.

“Maybe,” she admitted. She never depended on anyone for anything. The last person she had counted on was Liam, and that had not ended well.

“It’s just dinner and some clothes. I will give you my card and I will have my driver take you to the Mall of the Emirates. You can get whatever you need there.”

“I am not going to let you buy me clothes. I don’t need a handout.”

“Why is it you spend your life helping people, giving them handouts as you call them, but when the tables are turned you refuse to accept anything?”

“It is totally different and you know it.”

“Why? Because you are somehow above needing help? Why, Sarah, I would say that makes you a snob.”

He was baiting her and damn her if she didn’t fall for it. “I am not going to owe you anything.”

“You owed me something as soon as you started calling in favours for your mate.”

“What do you want from me? Did you want me to see how well you have done? How rich you are? Because I see it. Well done, Liam.”

He stood up and crossed to the door. “I am ordering you a steak. It will be here in an hour. I suggest you use the time to get cleaned up. There are fresh towels in the bathroom. You can wear my dressing gown while I send down your clothes to be washed.”

She collapsed down on the bed. She could use a shower. But she did not want to let him think she was obeying him.

“Screw it,” she murmured under her breath. She was going to have a shower because she wanted a shower. To hell with what he thought of her motives.

She closed her eyes and let the hot water spray against her. In addition to the one large shower head, there were strategically placed jets, each one working its magic on her tight muscles. And if she was not mistaken there was a hint of mint and tea-tree oil in the air. No idea where it was coming from but it smelled divine. It was like being in a day spa, only better because no one was coming at her with hot wax. She could get used to this.

She unfolded a towel that was as big as a sheet and softer than crushed velvet. She wrapped herself up and sighed. Yes, she definitely could get used to this.

She put on his robe and rolled up the sleeves to her elbows. She glanced at the clock—seven-fifteen, which made it just after four in the UK. The office would still be open for the next forty-five minutes. God only knew how much a mobile call to Scotland would cost. She decided to be safe and text her project manager instead. A text came with the added bonus of not having to explain any of the awkward details.

Thirty seconds later her phone rang. It was Leslie, the mother hen of Fresh Start. Leslie was the one who always made sure people, namely Sarah, looked after themselves, and took a tea break every once in a while.

“Hello, lovey,” Sarah said.

“Gillian just got your text. We thought you would be back in the office tomorrow morning.” Sarah smiled at Leslie’s gruff manner. Leslie’s nastiest tone was saved for those she loved. The meaner she appeared, the more she cared. It was just her way.

“No, something came up. I have three intake meetings this week but Gillian or Tara can cover them. And I thought you could cover the harm-reduction seminar I have scheduled for Thursday, if you wouldn’t mind. I know it is short notice but you are the best trainer we have.” It wasn’t just flattery. Fresh Start could not function without Leslie.

“Aye, that’s fine. We will be fine. I just wanted to let you know about your granny.”

Sarah’s heart stopped; her chest constricted until it was painful to breathe. “Is she…did she…?” She could not get the words out. If something happened to her granny, she did not know what she would do. She was all Sarah had, the only person who had not left her.

“She will be fine. She just broke her hip.”

Relief washed over her. Hips mended; her heart wouldn’t if something happened to her granny and she wasn’t there. “Is she in the New Royal?”

“Aye.”

“Right, thanks. I am going to call now.” Sarah hung up the phone without saying goodbye. It was rude but Leslie would understand. Sarah’s heart was now pounding against her ribs. Luckily she knew the number for the Royal Infirmary by heart as not a week went by that didn’t involve a call to the hospital to check on service users.

Her call was transferred three times before it reached the staff nurse on Granny’s ward.

“Miss Campbell, your grandmother said you would be on the phone within twenty minutes of her getting through the doors and she was not far off.” The nurse laughed.

“Is she all right? No, that is a silly question, of course she is not all right. She has a broken hip. I mean is she going to be all right?”

“She will be fine. The consultant is in speaking with her right now. If there are no emergencies her surgery will be scheduled for tomorrow morning—”

“Surgery?”

“She is going to need a hip replacement but after that she should be right as rain.”

“OK. I will be on the next flight.”

“Your grandmother said you would say that. She told me to tell you, and I am quoting here, ‘Dinnae be daft, hen, I am fine. She said if you came to the hospital she would be livid, insisted you wait until she gets out of hospital because she did not want you to see her without her hair done. She also said to say hello to the prodigal son. I am not sure what she meant by that,” the nurse said.

Sarah knew what she meant. That was what Granny called Liam. She was always adamant that Liam would come home at some point. For some reason, Granny still had a soft spot for him, even though he had done nothing to justify it. Sarah put down the phone and sat on the bed. Her pulse refused to slow. She didn’t know what she would have done if Granny had died. “She is fine,” she repeated over and over again, but it did not change the fact she was eighty-five. Sooner or later Sarah was going to have to deal with the inevitable.

And then she would be alone.

It was hard to breathe again. The massive room seemed too small. She concentrated on slowly filling her lungs. She was being stupid. She was nearly thirty; she was fine. When her grandma died, she would be fine. But she knew she wouldn’t. Her granny was her rock, the one person in her life that never failed her, never left her. Everyone else left, but not Granny.

Leslie said Sarah had intimacy issues, she never let anyone in, but thank God for that, if it hurt this much, and she would much rather be alone than be dependent on someone else for her happiness.