AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Clem frowned. ‘But your father is still alive, right? So why couldn’t you do both? Be a doctor now and then a politician later?’
Exactly what he had pointed out eight years ago. ‘My father is not a man to do things by half, not work, not food, not drink.’ Not women. ‘Nor is he a man to take his doctor’s advice. He has little time for the medical profession. He sees it as a job for the bourgeoisie, not his heir. His health was not good eight years ago so when we disagreed and it got far too heated he collapsed. He nearly died of a heart attack.’
A heart attack Akil had known was a risk, and yet he still hadn’t walked away when the argument had started to get out of hand, had still allowed all his anger at his father, at his selfishness and implacability, to pour out. Had enjoyed reducing his father to incoherent rage, out-arguing him. What kind of man did that make him? No better than his father for all his self-righteousness.
Clem stopped, her hand flying to her mouth as she turned to him. ‘Oh, Akil, I am so sorry. It must have been terrifying.’
‘It was. Worse was the knowledge that I was responsible.’
Her forehead creased. ‘How? You said yourself that he didn’t take his doctor’s advice. Surely that’s on him.’
‘True,’ he acknowledged. ‘But I was young and implacable as only the young can be, convinced I alone knew the right path. I wanted to be a doctor and yet I allowed a man I knew to be at risk to get agitated to lose control. Worse, I goaded him. Pushed him beyond what was safe. What kind of son, what kind of aspiring doctor, does that?’
‘Families make everything complicated. We’re not always our best selves with them,’ she said, laying a comforting hand on his arm. ‘So you gave up your dream? As what? Atonement?’
In part. ‘I promised him that if he just held on I would do my duty as the Vicomte d’Ortiz. So when he recovered he stepped down on grounds of ill health and the Senate voted to allow me to take the Ortiz seat early. My father now spends most of his time in Switzerland still not looking after his health and I am as you see me. Fulfilling my promise.’
‘Do you ever regret it?’
‘I don’t allow myself to regret it.’ Suddenly he regretted saying so much. ‘Come, there’s still a lot to fit in.’ Without looking back, he marched on. Because that was what he did, eyes fixed on the future, no dwelling on the past. It was easier that way. It was safer. It was what he knew.
Clem stole a glance at Akil as they walked towards the medieval square where the walking tour was due to meet. He’d been silent over the last few minutes, seemingly lost in thought.
Not that it was surprising. It must be hard, living one life when you had once had a vocation for something else. But then again wasn’t that the future she was facing? It would be some consolation if she was as successful in her second-choice career as Akil was in his.
But she still ached with sympathy for him. Maybe it was better having a father as hands off as hers rather than one who raged and manipulated and used a promise extracted on a possible deathbed to push his son down a path he didn’t want. And it wasn’t as if Akil wanted to give it all up to become a pop star or something equally ridiculous! He wanted to be a doctor—every parent she knew would throw a party if their child expressed such a wish.
Her mother would have. She’d supported Clem, it hadn’t been in her nature not to, but she’d have preferred Clem to have chosen something more worthy than acting.
She peeked at Akil again; his expression was still far away. ‘What’s the tour?’ she asked, wanting to break the silence.
He blinked as if he had forgotten where they were going. ‘Hmm? Oh, the twilight tour. Apparently it’s ghosts, ghouls and gore. Ready?’
She pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure I can face ghouls and gore after the dungeons earlier. I’m already dreading the nightmares.’
‘This is our heritage. We should embrace it.’
‘Not too enthusiastically, I hope.’
‘We don’t have to go on the tour,’ he reminded her. ‘We could always skip it and do something else.’
‘Skip it? And lose the challenge? Absolutely not.’
‘Of course.’ She was relieved to hear laughter in his voice. ‘The schedule. How could I forget?’
‘So this finishes at seven, conveniently right by the opera house, which gives us time to get our tickets. I hope they’re not sold out. What is it?’
Akil pulled out his phone and checked. ‘There are tickets and it’sTosca—oh, good, there’s a warning. Contains depictions of torture, murder and suicide. There’s a definite theme to the day so far.’
‘In that case I want to eat at the cheesiest, most kitsch restaurant as possible afterwards,’ Clem warned him. ‘I’ll need it after all the horror and death.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he promised.
They lapsed into another silence, but this one was more companionable, their stride perfectly in time, arms swinging together, so close their fingers almost touched. Almost.
As they entered the square she saw a small group of people waiting by the meeting point. A couple of families, several older couples and a young couple who smiled as Akil and Clem approached. They probably saw a mirror of themselves, a couple enjoying a romantic break in the picturesque ancient city, and Clem allowed herself to bask in the fantasy that she and Akil were here properly together. Before she thought better of it she reached out and took his hand, slipping her fingers through his. She felt him momentarily freeze before his fingers clasped hers, warm and strong, his thumb circling the back of her hand, a minute gesture that shuddered through her.
‘Okay, gather round.’ A tour guide dressed in the colourful Asturian national costume called out in English and then again in French. ‘Does everyone have their tickets ready? Great. Okay, let’s begin right here, with the great siege of 1412.’
