by reassurance from caring, trustworthy Daniel had left a whole ton of self-doubt lingering in the air. Sheridan made a mental note to tell Juanita to check Roz’s dirty laundry for spots of blood. She would have to keep a close eye on her, now the trust between them was gone.
‘Roz, honey, you gave me a terrible fright,’ Sheridan said, placing her hands on her shoulders. ‘Are you all right? How’s your head? I’ve called Dr Blumberg – he’ll be here in twenty minutes or so.’ Her words were rapid, a panicked mother fretting over her child. Whatever she felt about Roz, Sheridan would never put the baby at risk.
Daniel left them to it as Sheridan led Roz into the living room.
‘Sit.’ Sheridan patted the sofa cushion next to her. Just like the rest of the house, the reception room was furnished in a simple yet elegant style. Vast windows were filtered by white net curtains, which acted as a precaution against the paparazzi’s powerful zoom lenses. Usually, at this time of day, she would be going through her schedule with Samantha, her PA. George would be here too, keeping her up to speed with the latest celebrity trends. It was challenging, juggling the needs of her career with keeping Roz underground. Today an early morning appointment with her hair stylist had been followed by a Skype with her agent in LA. Privacy was everything, and Sheridan had fought to keep them all at bay.
‘Have you had any bleeding?’ Sheridan said. ‘Any pains?’
‘No,’ Roz replied, with a gloomy shake of the head.
‘I almost died when you fell over in the elevator. Then when I couldn’t recall it . . . I thought you’d collapsed in there.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Roz blurted, her fingers tightly clasped together on her lap. ‘I shouldn’t have blocked the doors.’
‘No, you shouldn’t have,’ Sheridan said, but there was disappointment, not animosity, in her voice. ‘I would never have brought you over here if I’d known it would turn out like this.’
She had set the scene for full reconciliation mode. Vases of wild flowers filled the air with the sweet smell of meadow honey, and in the fireplace, artificial flames danced.
‘But you pulled my hair,’ Roz said, finally meeting her gaze. ‘I’ve got a bump on my head. It really hurts.’
Sheridan lifted the sleeve of her blouse. ‘So does the bruise on my arm, but we don’t want Daniel knowing about that.’ Roz’s face paled as Sheridan displayed the bruise she had given herself the night before.
‘How did that happen?’
Sheridan tilted her head to one side, mirroring Roz’s movements. ‘You did it. Don’t you remember?’
Roz closed her arms across her chest, as if warding off her negative words. ‘No . . . I don’t remember doing that.’
‘It started off as a silly argument. You knocked over your glass of juice . . .’
‘I . . . I don’t know.’ Roz frowned. ‘I remember getting juice on my fingers and using a napkin to wipe it off.’
‘Yes, that’s right. That’s when you threatened to leave. I followed you to the elevator, begging you to come back. I know I shouldn’t have but I . . .’
‘What?’
‘I reached out to grab you but got your ponytail instead.’ Sheridan turned to Roz, well-practised angst expressed on her face. ‘You spun around and hit me on the arm. But some of the juice must have been on the soles of your shoes because you fell back into the elevator.’
The fall had not been part of Sheridan’s plans. Sometimes, she didn’t know her own strength. She remembered jabbing the elevator button, distraught when she couldn’t call it from the basement floor. Roz was the vessel for her baby. She could not afford for anything to go wrong now. She watched as Roz rubbed the back of her head, confusion creasing her features.
‘I remember banging my head against the handrail. I heard you calling me when the doors closed.’
‘I was in shock. I tried to call the elevator, but I figured you must have jammed the doors on the basement floor. I was so worried about the baby that I rang Daniel straight away.’
Roz twirled the silver Claddagh ring on her right hand. ‘Why didn’t you come down the stairs?’
‘I couldn’t find the keys to the basement,’ Sheridan replied. ‘Daniel carries a set for safe keeping.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Roz sighed as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you. That’s not me at