The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,153

that’s only seven letters. Maybe it’s abandons? Although that has nothing to do with dark, has it?’

She gazed at her father. ‘I bet you’d know it straight away, wouldn’t you? You’d just say the answer as if it were the simplest thing in the world. You always know the answer, don’t you, Daddy? You just say it, and it’s completely obvious.’ She caught her breath on a sob. ‘Oh, Daddy, why aren’t you here to help me?’

Grief, exhaustion, frustration and every other emotion she had been storing up came pouring out as she sat by his bedside, weeping silently, her shoulders heaving.

‘Sinister.’

The whisper was so faint, Millie wasn’t sure she’d heard it at first.

She looked up in disbelief. ‘Daddy?’

She saw his dry lips move slightly. No words this time, but it was enough. His eyelids fluttered for a second, then closed again.

‘Nurse!’ Millie screamed. She ran for the door and crashed into the nurse who was hurrying in.

‘What is it? What’s happened?’

‘He’s woken up!’ It was all Millie could do not to hug her. ‘He spoke to me.’

Everything happened very fast after that. The nurse called for Mr Cossard, who finally appeared after what seemed like hours, examined his patient and declared that, yes indeed, there did seem to be signs of life.

‘But we must be cautious until we know the extent of any possible damage,’ he cautioned.

‘He can’t be too damaged if he can still do The Times crossword, can he?’ Millie was too delighted to listen to the warnings. ‘I must tell Seb.’ She looked out of the window. There was no sign of him in the grounds, but she knew he would be there.

She found him straight away. He was sitting on the bank by the stream, smoking and staring out into the water.

‘Seb!’ He shot to his feet and tossed his cigarette into the stream when he saw her running towards him, calling his name. Millie saw the flicker of concern on his face as he wondered what news she was bringing.

She launched herself into his arms, overcome by joy and relief. ‘He’s awake, Seb,’ she whispered. ‘Daddy’s going to be all right.’

‘Thank God.’ She felt him relax, and his arms went around her, holding her tight. For a moment neither of them moved. Then they slowly pulled apart. Millie looked up into his eyes, finding them dark with desire, and felt herself weaken.

‘Millie?’ His voice was hoarse, uncertain.

For an answer, she put her hands up to his face and kissed him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Seb’s kiss was shy and tentative at first and she could sense him holding back, as if he almost didn’t dare believe it was really happening. Then a moment later the floodgates opened and he was kissing her with a ferocity and passion she could hardly have imagined in him.

She went on kissing him for a long time, not wanting to let him go, afraid to break the spell. But finally it was broken and they pulled apart.

‘We’d better go back inside.’ Millie’s gaze slid away from his, unable to meet his eyes.

‘Shall I telephone your grandmother and let her know? Or would you prefer me to drive back and fetch her?’ Seb asked, as they walked back to the hospital building.

‘It might be best if you telephone her. She may need some time to compose herself. Granny hates being caught unawares.’

They were talking like strangers, Millie thought, not like two people who had just shared a moment of intense passion. She began to wonder if she’d imagined it.

Chapter Fifty

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEETHEART.’

Helen stared in joyful surprise at the parcel Charlie placed into her hands. It was carefully wrapped and tied with pink ribbon.

‘You didn’t have to get me anything. I really didn’t expect it.’

‘What kind of a bloke doesn’t buy his girl a present on her birthday?’ He nodded towards it. ‘Go on, then. Open it. I want to see if you like it.’

Helen’s fingers trembled as she untied the silky bow. It wasn’t even her birthday until the following day, but it was already the best she had ever had. Charlie had arranged for her to have tea with his family, and his mum had prepared a wonderful spread for her, including a big birthday cake she had iced herself. Everyone had joined in a heartfelt but tuneless chorus of ‘Happy Birthday To You’, then Charlie’s younger brothers and sister had crowded round to help her blow out the candles. This was followed