more than tickle her curiosity. Her whole being was consumed by the thought of Charles and what effect his reappearance in her life might have upon her.
In the end, as her anxiety continued to grow, it was almost a relief when she found him sitting over a coffee in the very swish staff canteen. As she walked in, he raised his head and a smile spread across his face. He looked just the same, as if the events of Lesbos had only happened yesterday. He jumped to his feet and hurried across to her, arms open wide. Bruno was at Lucy’s side and she felt him tense. As for herself, she didn’t know what to feel. Here was the man who had meant so much to her, but who had then betrayed her so callously. She took a deep breath and held out her hand.
‘Bonjour, Charles.’ He was French after all.
He pulled up a foot or two from her and she saw his eyes drop to her outstretched hand.
‘Bonjour, ma chérie.’
As much for Bruno’s sake as for her own convenience she switched to English, which Charles spoke fluently. ‘It’s just Lucy now, Charles. No more ma chérie. Okay?’ She was delighted to hear her voice sounding firm. ‘How are you?’
She saw his face fall as he took her outstretched hand and shook it formally. ‘I’m fine, thanks… Lucy.’ He hesitated, lost for words, and she suddenly realised that he had probably been dreading this encounter as much as she had. This bolstered her resolve and she even managed a little smile as she responded.
‘Fancy meeting up with you here! It’s a very small world, isn’t it?’ Without giving him a chance to reply, she glanced over at Bruno alongside her. ‘It’s all right, Bruno. I’m not going to scratch his eyes out.’
She saw him relax and smile back at her.
‘Good to hear. Physical violence between staff members is never a terribly good idea.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Well, I’ve got to do my rounds. Why don’t I leave you two to get reacquainted and I’ll be back in half an hour to talk you through this week’s schedule.’
As he went off, Lucy went over to the very complicated-looking coffee machine and studied it. As she did so, Charles came up alongside her.
‘It takes a bit of getting used to, but it makes good coffee. Can I help?’ As if anticipating her refusal, he hurried on. ‘It’s all right. I don’t expect you to say thank you.’
She stepped aside and let him point out where to position the cup and which buttons to press in order to obtain a perfect caffè macchiato freddo. This had always been her preferred coffee and she couldn’t miss the fact that he had remembered, even after four years. As the process finished and she picked up her little cup, she turned towards him.
‘Thank you, Charles.’
She saw just a hint of a smile on his face. ‘You’re welcome. Would you like to come and sit with me? Maybe we could talk?’
She had never seen him so humble, so hesitant. Maybe this was a sign of positive personal development. Much as she had no wish to rake up all the heartache of four years ago, she knew it would be better to get things out in the open, so they could then get on with their lives and work together without friction. So she said yes.
As she sipped her coffee, he began speaking. She listened intently but gave no response as he did his best to convince her that the girl on the beach in Lesbos had been a one-time thing, an aberration. She had meant nothing to him. He had been stupid, selfish, a thoughtless moron. The only woman for him was and always would be Lucy who, by the way, was looking gorgeous. He was remarkably articulate, apparently sincere, and he sounded genuinely remorseful.
But she wasn’t buying it.
She felt quite sure that this particular leopard’s spots would never change – not least after what Bruno had told her about Charles and the nurses here at the clinic. Satisfying as it might have been to pour all her scorn onto him in one big cathartic outburst, possibly accompanied by a kick to the groin or a cup of coffee in the face, she was acutely conscious that he and she would once again be working closely side by side, so she swallowed her anger and did her best to keep things civil.
‘Thank you for trying