His Delicious Revenge: The Price of Retribution / Count Valieri's Prisoner / The Highest Stakes of All. Sara Craven
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He closed the file. ‘This may be reviewed if and when she begins to make progress.’ He pressed a buzzer. ‘Nurse Farlow will take you to her.’
At the door, she paused. ‘I brought my sister some of her favourite chocolate truffles. They were in the bag that was taken from me. I’d still like her to have them.’
‘I’m afraid she is not allowed presents of food at the moment. In future you should check whether any proposed gifts are permitted.’
It was more like a prison than a clinic, Tarn thought, as a sturdy blonde woman escorted her silently through a maze of corridors. And they seemed to be treating Evie more as a criminal than a patient.
Didn’t they understand what had happened here? How Evie had been used by this rich bastard then callously dumped when he’d got all he wanted and become bored? How her attempted suicide was an act of total desperation?
When they eventually halted at a door, the nurse gave Tarn a warning glance. ‘This first visit is for fifteen minutes only,’ she informed her brusquely. ‘At the end of this time, I’ll be back to collect you.’
She opened the door, said, ‘Someone to see you, dear,’ and urged Tarn forward.
Tarn had almost expected a cell with bars on the window. Instead she found herself in a pleasant bedroom with modern furnishings, seascape prints on the neutral walls, and soft blue curtains. Evie was in bed, propped against a pile of pillows with her eyes closed, and Tarn almost recoiled in shock at the sight of her.
Her fair hair was lank, her face was haggard and her body looked almost shrunken under the blue bedspread.
Thank God they’ve kept Aunt Hazel away, Tarn thought, swallowing, or she’d be having permanent hysterics. I feel like bursting into tears myself.
There were a pair of small armchairs flanking the window and Tarn moved one of them nearer the bed, and sat down.
For several minutes there was silence, then Evie said hoarsely, ‘Caz? Oh, Caz, is it you? Are you here at last?’
For a moment, Tarn was unable to speak, shaken by a wave of anger mixed with pity. Then she reached out and took the thin hand, saying quietly, ‘No, love. It’s only me.’
Evie’s eyelids lifted slowly. Her eyes looked strangely pale, as if incessant crying had somehow washed away their normal colour.
She gave a little sigh. ‘Tarn—I knew you’d come. You’ve got to get me out of here. They won’t let me leave, even though I keep asking. They say if I want to get better, I have to forget Caz. Forget how much I loved him. Accept that it’s all over between us. But I can’t—I can’t.
‘They give me things—to help me relax, they say. To make me sleep, but I dream about him, Tarn. Dream that he’s still mine.’
Her fingers closed fiercely round Tarn’s. ‘I didn’t want to go on living without him. Couldn’t face another day with nothing left to hope for. You understand that, don’t you? You must, because you knew what he meant to me. How I built my future around him.’
Tarn said steadily, ‘I suppose so, but ending it all was never the answer, believe me.’ She paused. ‘Evie, you’re a very beautiful girl, and one day you’ll meet another man—someone good and decent who’ll appreciate you and genuinely want to spend his life with you.’
‘But I wanted Caz.’ Her grip on Tarn’s hand tightened almost unbearably. ‘I gave him everything. So how could he reject me like that? Not want me to love him any more?’
‘I don’t know.’ Tarn freed herself gently. ‘But we mustn’t talk about that now or you’ll get agitated and they’ll know. Which means I won’t be allowed to see you again.’
‘And you’re all I’ve got.’ Evie sank back against her pillows, her face white and pinched. ‘Because Caz is never going to come here, is he? I’ve been hoping and hoping, but it isn’t going to happen. I know that now.’
A slow tear ran down her cheek. ‘How could he do this to me? How can he just—walk away as if I didn’t matter?’
Tarn felt the anger rising inside her again, and curled her nails into the palms of her hands to regain her control.
‘But you do matter,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘And one day soon he’s going to find out just how much, and be sorrier than he’s ever imagined.’
She handed Evie a tissue from the box on the bedside table. ‘Now dry your eyes, and try to look as if my visit has done you some good. And next time I come we’ll talk seriously about how to deal with Mr Caz Brandon.’
That night over supper, she said, ‘So what did you think of Evie’s fiancé, Aunt Hazel? Did you ever feel that things weren’t quite right between them?’
Her foster mother put down her knife and fork and stared at her. ‘But I never met him,’ she said. ‘I knew only what Evie told me, and, of course, she absolutely worshipped him.’
‘Never met him?’ Tarn repeated slowly. ‘But how can that be? You mean she never brought him home?’
‘Well, she’d hardly be likely to,’ Mrs Griffiths said with a touch of defensiveness. ‘I mean—he lives in the lap of luxury, and this is such an ordinary little house. But they were planning to give an enormous party when their engagement was announced, and I was going to meet him then.’
‘I see,’ said Tarn, without any truth whatsoever. She hesitated. ‘And you were all right with this?’
‘As long as my girl was happy, I was too,’ said Mrs Griffiths with finality, and the subject was ostensibly dropped.
But it provided Tarn with food for thought during the remainder of the evening.
When Tarn returned to The Refuge a few days later, she was surprised to be accorded a wintry smile by the Professor.
‘I think you will find your sister has improved slightly. She is looking forward to seeing you again.’ He paused. ‘But you will have to remain her only visitor in the immediate future. Have you brought her any messages from anyone else? If so, may I know what they are?’
‘Her mother sends her love.’ Tarn lifted her chin. ‘I hope that’s acceptable.’
There was another slight hesitation before he said, ‘Perfectly,’ and buzzed for Nurse Farlow.
Evie, in a dressing gown, was sitting in the armchair by the window. Her newly washed hair was waving softly round her face, and her face had regained some colour.
‘Wow.’ Tarn bent and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You’ll be out of here in no time at this rate.’
‘I wish,’ Evie said with a sigh. ‘But there’s no chance. That’s been made perfectly clear to me. It’s what happens when you do crazy things. And all because of him.’ She punched her fist into the palm of her other hand. ‘That was the real madness—to believe even one word that he said. To trust him. I ought to have realised he was just using me.’
Her voice cracked. ‘Oh, God, he’s the one I should have tried to kill for what he’s done—not myself. You talked about making him sorry. That’s not enough. I want to make him wish he was dead.’
‘Well, maybe we can.’ Tarn took the chair opposite. ‘But stay calm, honey, because there are some things I need to know from you.’
Evie stared at her, biting her lip. ‘What kind of things?’
‘Stuff you might have told him. About your mother. About me.’
There was a silence, then Evie said, ‘I didn’t tell him anything. He never wanted to talk about family things.’
‘You didn’t find that—odd?’ Tarn spoke carefully.
‘It was the way he was.’ Evie shrugged. ‘I accepted it. Why do you ask?’