Page 73 of Never Gonna Happen

‘We can make up one of the rooms in the house,’ said Anna. ‘The green drawing room would work.’

‘He’d like to be moved to the pool house.’

‘I don’t think that’s suitable,’ snapped Anna dismissively.

‘It has a bedroom and a wet room, both on the ground floor, a kitchen of its own, and it’s close to the pool so he can start hydrotherapy,’ said Emily, who’d done a great deal of reading about this kind of injury. ‘What’s not suitable about it?’

‘If he’s in the house, we can give him proper care,’ said Anna.

‘Well, he’d like the pool house,’ said Emily.

There was twenty seconds of silence, during which Emily doodled a picture of a witch in her notebook. It had a big pointy hat, crooked teeth and crossed eyes. ‘If you say so,’ said Anna grudgingly. ‘I’ll have it cleaned and made ready tomorrow.’

‘Thank you,’ said Emily sweetly. ‘I’ll email you our flight details so you can pass them on to Leon. I’ve organised a private ambulance for Jamie – he can’t sit in the car for that long with his leg cast. Can you ask Leon to liaise with the driver at the airport?’

‘Why haven’t you organised a helicopter?’ asked Anna, like Emily was a colossal moron. ‘It would be so much quicker and more comfortable for Jamie.’

‘Because the weather forecast for Wednesday morning is high winds and heavy rain,’ replied Emily. ‘It’s not safe, and it won’t be comfortable. I’ll call you tomorrow if anything changes.’

Anna hung up without saying goodbye, which prompted a weary eyeroll from Emily. Every conversation with the housekeeper made her feel like she’d been pushed through a mangle, but all household arrangements had to be funnelled through her. She looked at her watch, then walked through to the kitchen to fetch the tray that Madeleine had prepared with lunch for her and Jamie. She’d left him in the shade of the terrace with a book earlier, and he’d be going out of his mind by now.

‘On a scale of one to ten, how bored are you?’ she asked, plonking the tray down on the table and pouring some iced water from a jug. Jamie was tapping away on his phone but slid it into his pocket when Emily appeared.

‘Twenty,’ he said with a tired smile. ‘Which, coincidentally, is how many days it’s been since we last had sex.’

‘Uh oh, somebody’s feeling better.’

‘My ribs don’t hurt so much today, I can breathe properly. I think we could make it work.’ He picked at one of the many scabs on his arm until Emily swatted his hand away.

‘I’m more concerned about your blood pressure, to be honest. Can we at least get you home first?’

Jamie made a ‘humpf’ noise and sipped his water. ‘We need to sort out some cover at the stables.’

‘Already done it,’ said Emily. ‘For six weeks, to start with.’

‘And I can’t manage the stairs to my apartment for a while.’

‘It’s all sorted.’

Jamie looked at her in amusement. ‘Anybody would think you did this kind of thing for a living. Where am I sleeping?’

‘Anna’s going to turn the green drawing room into a bedroom for you, and she’s hired a nurse to tend to your every need.’

‘Jesus,’ said Jamie, his face aghast. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Of course not,’ said Emily with a grin. ‘I suggested the pool house and told her it was your idea when she got all pissy about it.’

Jamie looked relieved. ‘But the nurse is real, right?’

‘Haha, no. You’ll have to make do with me.’

‘Do you have a special outfit?’

Emily rolled her eyes. ‘Sadly not. You’re quite frisky for a man with a broken right leg.’

‘My left leg is fine. As is the middle one.’

Emily laughed. ‘I think I need to call the doctor and check your medication.’