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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IF ANYONE HAD thought that a sense of personal peace might make Fleur relax a little too deeply into island life, they’d have been mistaken. She was splitting her time between the lighthouse and her parents’ house, and had renewed her efforts to find a job, scouring the trade papers and calling her contacts.
She visited the clinic every day to exercise, and if that wasn’t enough she’d got herself involved with one of Alex’s fundraising schemes for the clinic. Or, rather, she’d got Alex involved with a scheme that was all her own. Alex had told her to go ahead with his blessing, and Fleur had taken that as an invitation to think big.
“I’ve got a venue. It’s an old warehouse on the waterfront, due for demolition.” They were sitting together in the clinic’s restaurant, and Fleur was toying with a salad while he tucked into clam chowder.
“Right.” Rick shot her a questioning frown. An old warehouse, due for demolition, didn’t exactly sound the right venue for a fundraiser designed to attract the Boston glitterati.
“I reckoned that I couldn’t get a place smart enough to impress at such short notice. And anyway it would cut into our profits for the evening. So I’ve gone the other way. It’s going to be something like a street party, where the guests stop their limousines and join in.”
“Okay.” Rick couldn’t quite see how that would work. But he had faith in Fleur.
“The director of my old dance company got in touch. Some of the troupe’s in Boston already, and they were the ones who agreed to help. But he’s flying in a load more people, so it’s going to be really big. The admin team here at the clinic are getting in touch with people who’ve donated before, and they’re passing the word on.”
“No invitations?” Rick wondered how anyone was going to know to turn up.
“No, that’s the whole point. It’s a street party so it’s all done by word of mouth. You have to put the date aside, of course, as the people we want are likely to be busy otherwise. But they get directions on where to go via social networking.”
“It’s...different.”
“That’s the whole idea. These people spend their lives going to smart functions in expensive settings. If this fails, at least I’ll be able to say I tried something different.”
“It won’t fail.” Rick took her hand. “It can’t fail, because it’s already succeeded. You’ve taken on a new role for yourself in planning all this out and organizing it. You’re making your future work for you, instead of thinking about the things you’ve lost.”
She beamed at him. “Thank you, Rick. That’s a lovely thought.”
He nodded. Lovely thoughts were one thing, but he still hoped that enough people turned up on the night to turn Fleur’s planning into hard cash.
* * *
Rick should be getting back to work now. His lunchtime was over, and Fleur had things she had to do without him.
She was booked in for surgery this afternoon. The ganglion on the back of her wrist needed to be dealt with, and Cody would be carrying out the procedure. Since they’d been together, it had become a hard and fast rule that Rick was to have no part in any of her treatment anymore.
But he’d made an excuse about patients not liking to see him too soon after lunch, and hung around for a second cup of coffee. Finally Fleur grasped the nettle.
“It’s gone one o’clock, Rick. You really do need to get back to work.”
“I’ve got a couple of hours off. I thought I might come along with you and keep you company.”
Nothing would have made her happier. After all the surgeries she’d had, this one was trivial, but she still wanted him to be there with her. But Fleur unde
rstood why he’d initially said he couldn’t. He’d spent enough time at the hospital with Lara, and even if this was completely different, it seemed to awaken memories for him that he’d rather leave alone.
“I’ll be perfectly all right by myself. I don’t want you there, getting in the way.”
He folded his arms in a gesture that said very firmly he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ve been thinking about this more and more. When I talked about Lara the other day in Jim’s office, I realized that I owe it to her to let go of the images I have of her in the hospital. The more I do, the more comfortable I feel about being here now for you.”
Fleur reached across the table, taking his hand. “Rick, I’m glad you can remember her that way now. But... I think she might have preferred you to remember her that way with Ellie, not me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I told you that I made a promise to Lara before she died, that I’d make sure that Ellie knew all about her. But there was a second part to the promise, which I never kept. She made me promise to live well. I tried, but it was all about making Ellie happy, not me. Since I met you I’ve been learning how to be happy for myself.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. Positive.”
“Okay, then. No worrying, though. This is a minor procedure.”
