Best Friend To Royal Bride. Annie Claydon
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be asked and answered before he took the step of kissing her. But then he felt her lips touch his and he was lost. Or maybe this was exactly what it was like to find himself. Alex wasn’t sure.
She was soft and sweet, and when he kissed her again she responded. Maybe it lasted a moment and maybe an hour. All Alex knew was that it was impossible to attach a time frame to something that was complete and perfect.
Even the way she drew away from him was perfect. A little sigh of regret, her eyes masked by her eyelashes.
He’d always supposed that kissing Marie was the one thing he mustn’t do. The one thing he wouldn’t be able to come back from. But in a sudden moment of clarity he realised that kissing her had only made him more determined that he couldn’t do it. Marie wasn’t just another pretty face he could walk away from without looking back. She was his friend, and he wanted her for a lifetime, not just a few months.
‘Do you want to go back in?’ If it meant keeping her then he had to let her go.
She still wouldn’t look at him. ‘Yes…’
He felt her move in his arms and let her go. Marie looked up at him for a moment, and he almost forgot that this had been a very bad idea that had the power to spoil something that had been good for years. Then suddenly she was gone, back into the restaurant to take her seat at the table again.
Alex waited, knowing the group always swapped places between courses, so everyone got to speak to everyone else. When he went back inside there was a free seat for him at the other end of the table from Marie. Alex sat down without looking at her, and was immediately involved in the heated debate about football which was going on between Emily and Will.
She didn’t meet his gaze until the restaurant closed and a waitress pointedly fetched everyone’s coats. Then, suddenly, he found himself standing next to her. He automatically helped her on with her coat and Marie smiled up at him.
‘I’ll see you next year. Be well, Alex.’
‘Yes. Next year…’
He’d scarcely got the words out before she was gone. Marie had made her meaning clear. They were friends, and nothing was going to spoil that. Not fire, nor flood, nor even an amazing, heart-shaking kiss. By next year it would be forgotten, and he and Marie would continue the way they always had.
The thought that he wouldn’t see her again until next February seemed more heart-rending than any of the other challenges he’d faced in the last six months.
The first Friday in May
IT WAS ONLY four stops on the Tube from the central London hospital where Marie worked, but shining architecture and trendy bars had given way to high-rise flats, corner shops and families with every kind of problem imaginable.
Marie knew about some of those problems first-hand. She’d grown up fifteen minutes’ walk away from the address that Alex had given her. Her father had left when she was ten, and her mother had retreated into a world of her own. Four miserable months in foster care had seen Marie separated from her three younger brothers, and when the family had got back together again she’d resolved that she’d keep it that way.
It had cost Marie her childhood. Looking after her brothers while her mother had worked long hours to keep them afloat financially. She’d learned how to shop and cook, and at the weekends she’d helped out by taking her brothers to the park, reading her schoolbooks while they played.
It had been hard. And lonely. After she’d left home she’d had a few relationships, but knowing exactly what it meant to be abandoned had made her cautious. She’d never found the kind of love that struck like a bolt of lightning, dispelling all doubts and fears, and the continuing need to look after her family didn’t give her too much time for regrets.
When she reached the Victorian building it looked just as ominous as she remembered it, its bricks stained with grime and three floors towering above her like a dark shadow in the evening sunshine. The high cast-iron gates creaked as Marie pulled them open, leaving flakes of paint on her hands.
‘This had better not be a joke…’
It wasn’t a joke. Alex’s practical jokes were usually a lot more imaginative than this. And when he’d called her it had sounded important. He’d made a coded reference to their kiss, saying that he wanted her to come as a professional favour to a friend, which told Marie that he’d done exactly as she’d hoped and moved past it. That was both a relief and a disappointment.
She pushed the thought of his touch to the back of her mind and made her way across the cracked asphalt in front of the building. There was a notice taped to the main door that advertised that this was the ‘Living Well Clinic’. Marie made a face at the incongruous nature of the name and pressed the buzzer, wondering if it was going to work.
The door creaked open almost immediately.
‘Hi. Thanks so much for coming.’ Alex was looking unusually tense.
‘My pleasure. What’s all this about, Alex?’
‘Come and see.’ He stood back from the doorway and Marie stepped inside, trying not to flinch as the door banged shut behind them.
‘Oh! This is a bit different from how I remember it.’
At the other end of the small lobby was an arch, which had been sandblasted back to the original brick, its colour and texture contrasting with the two glass doors that now filled the arch. As Marie approached them they swished back, allowing her into a large bright reception space, which had once been dingy cloakrooms.
And it wasn’t finished yet. Cabling hung from the ceiling and the walls had obviously been re-plastered recently, with dark spots showing where they were still drying out. One of the curved-top windows had been replaced, and the many layers of paint on the others had been sanded back, leaving the space ready for new decoration.
‘You know this place?’
‘Yes, I went to school here.’
‘Did you?’ He grinned awkwardly. ‘I wish I’d known. I would have looked for your name carved on one of the desks.’
‘You wouldn’t have found it.’
‘Too busy studying?’
‘Something like that.’
Leaving her name in this place might have signified that she would look back on her schooldays with a measure of nostalgia, when they’d been no more than a means to an end. They’d been something she’d had to do so she could move on and leave them behind. Just like she’d left that kiss behind. The one she couldn’t stop thinking about…
‘What’s going on, Alex? Are you working here now or is this something you’re involved with in your spare time?’
‘I don’t have spare time any more. I’m here full-time; I gave up working with the practice.’
Alex had always said he’d do something like this, and now he’d actually done it. The next logical step from his job as a GP in a leafy London suburb would have been to go into private practice, and Alex had the contacts and the reputation to make the transition easy. But he’d given all that up to come and work here, in a community where his expertise was most sorely needed.
‘And you’ll be seeing patients here?’
‘As soon as we don’t have to supply them with hard hats.’ He bent, picking up two safety helmets and handing her one. ‘Come and see what’s been going on.’
As he showed her around, the scale of the project became obvious. Some of the classrooms had been divided into two to make treatment rooms, with high ceilings and plenty of light from the arched windows. A state-of-the-art exercise suite was planned for the ground floor, which would be staffed