Hot Single Docs: London's Calling. Lynne Marshall

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Hot Single Docs: London's Calling - Lynne Marshall


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the conversation of others? With the tension between them steadily increasing?

      ‘I know.’ Abbie tilted her head, peering past people to see where they were exactly. ‘Let’s get coffee to go from the cart over there and take it to the Secret Garden. That’s always quieter.’

      It didn’t take long because they knew the route so well. Off the Inner Circle and through the large circular garden with the statue of Hylas in the pond. You could see the imposing structure of St John’s Lodge from here, reputedly owned by the Sultan of Brunei these days. But they weren’t after an imposing view.

      Rafael led the way on a wide grass path, past the blossoms of the dog roses and the twisted trees of white wisteria. Beneath a leafy arbour to the circle of lime trees around a stone urn. And...yes...the covered seat at one end of the garden was unoccupied at the moment.

      For a moment, Abbie lost all sense of time. She wasn’t here with her estranged husband, trying to find a way to reconnect. She was here with the man she was head over heels in love with. Wondering why he was leading to her such a secluded, romantic spot. Why the destination seemed so important, the mission so urgent.

      And then the reality of the difference this time kicked in and Abbie’s step faltered. It was an audible effort to catch her breath.

      Rafael almost groaned aloud when he sensed Abbie’s step faltering. What had he been thinking in following this particular route? He had led Abbie back to the exact spot he’d proposed to her.

      Closing his eyes for a heartbeat, Rafael cursed himself for his insensitivity and wondered how he could rescue the situation, but then he heard Abbie take a deep breath.

      ‘Perfect,’ she murmured.

      Rafael’s eyes flew open. ‘It is?’

      ‘Mmm.’ Abbie offered him a smile that was almost shy. ‘If we’re going to start again, what better place than back where it all started?’

      They were going to start again? There was hope? And he’d chosen the perfect place? Rafael could feel his chest expand just a little. This time he didn’t suppress the urge to take Abbie’s hand and he didn’t let go until they were seated side by side on the small bench. They could see people through the arbour but, for the moment, they had this small patch of the park to themselves.

      ‘So...’ Rafael cleared his throat. He was ready to face whatever was coming even if his heart did seem to be beating faster than usual. ‘What shall we talk about?’

      Abbie closed her eyes for a moment. What did he think they needed to talk about? The weather? The thought almost made her smile because that was exactly what they’d talked about the last time they’d sat on this bench. They’d actually had to brush snow away before they’d sat down and she’d been freezing and Rafael had opened his coat and tucked her in beside him. He wanted to keep her warm, he’d said. To look after her. For ever.

      She opened her eyes but didn’t look up at Rafael.

      ‘Us,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s what we need to talk about.’

      Oh, no... Rafael drained the last of his coffee. This was worse than he’d feared. Abbie wanted to analyse their relationship and pick it apart. His voice came out more harshly than he had intended. ‘What about us?’

      Abbie met his gaze. There was a tiny frown line above her eyes. ‘Well...we don’t really know each other, do we?’

      ‘Pfff...’ Rafael couldn’t help the incredulous sound. Or the movement of his hands, one of which slashed through the air while the other crushed the empty paper cup it was holding and dropped it on the bench beside him. It was an effort not to jump to his feet as the words tried to rush past each other to get out.

      ‘Of course we know each other. We’re married. We...’ Love each other? No. He couldn’t speak for Abbie. He changed tack. ‘I know you, Abbie. I know that you like two sugars in your coffee. That you hate lacy knickers because they make you itch. That people who hurt their children make you very, very angry.’ He was counting off his list on his fingers. ‘That one of your favourite surgeries is making new little ears for children. That—’

      But Abbie was shaking her head as she set her own cup carefully aside. ‘I mean something that goes deeper than that. You don’t know why I did what I did. Why I had to take Ella to New York even if it was going to mean the end of the marriage that meant so much to me.’

      ‘But I do...’ Rafael swallowed hard. ‘I know that your little sister, Sophie, died when you were only twelve. That you felt your parents had failed her because they refused to try any treatment that might have added to her suffering when they knew it would gain nothing but a little more time. But that was different. It wasn’t leukaemia and we tried everything we could even it was only going to give us a little more time. The idea that the treatment in New York could really work was...’

      Way too much of a miracle to hope for. Rafael’s words trailed into silence. It had worked, hadn’t it? He’d been wrong.

      ‘You knew the reason,’ Abbie agreed quietly. ‘But you didn’t understand how I felt about it because if you had you would have been there with me, Rafe. By my side. And it really hurt that you weren’t.’

      It hurt thinking about Sophie, too. The little sister she’d lost. The way her family had fallen apart. Sophie had been ill for so long that family life had centred exclusively on her and Abbie had felt almost invisible. The feeling had only strengthened after her sister’s death. Had her parents been too afraid to love her too much in case they lost her, too? Did they come to blame each other—the way she secretly did—for not having tried hard enough to save Sophie?

      Or did all the love just die because it got smothered under the grief?

      She’d tried so hard....

      She’d been driven to fight for Ella instead of standing back and watching her die. But her new family had still fallen apart, hadn’t it? Was it impossible to win in a dreadful situation like that?

      Rafael could see the pain he’d caused by reminding Abbie of what she’d lost as a child. And by not being there for her in New York when she’d needed him. What could he say?

      ‘I’m sorry.’ The words were raw. ‘I was wrong.’

      This time it was Abbie who took hold of his hand. ‘It’s not just your fault, Rafe. Don’t you see? I couldn’t understand why you were so opposed to it, any more than you could understand me. Oh, I knew how much you hated to see children suffering when there couldn’t be a positive outcome, and that’s why you changed specialties to get away from oncology, but this was your own daughter. I just didn’t get it.’ She bit her lip. ‘We don’t get each other.’

      ‘Get?’ Sometimes, if he was really fired up about something, his languages could tangle in his head and make him miss subtleties.

      ‘Understand. No...it’s more than that, I think. If you really love someone and you can understand why they feel the way they do, then you’ll support them, even if you might not agree with whatever it is.’

      Rafael turned the words over in his head. ‘You’re right,’ he said into the quietness. ‘I should have supported you.’

      ‘And maybe I should have supported you.’

      ‘Che cosa? But I was wrong. You only have to look at Ella to see that I was wrong.’

      ‘But if I’d understood why, maybe we could have changed things. All I could see was someone who was being a doctor, not a father. Or a husband. Someone who couldn’t feel what I was feeling.’

      It was true. He had isolated himself emotionally. Circumstances had then isolated him physically.

      But they were closer now, surely? They were talking about things they’d never talked about before.

      ‘It won’t happen again,’ he told Abbie. ‘I love you. I love Ella. I want to be a good father and husband.’ He touched her


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