The #1 Bestsellers Collection 2011(149)

“Holly?”

She turned at the uncharacteristic hesitance in Connor’s voice. He carried a large archive box under his arm. Surely he didn’t expect her to work now? He’d assured her that she could take up her duties when she felt ready but that Janet was managing brilliantly in the meantime. With her visits to Andrea and the overwhelming tiredness the pregnancy had wrought she hadn’t been in any hurry to take on any more.

“I thought you might like these. You know, to have around you. You can put them around the house if you like.”

He put the box in her lap and lifted the lid. Inside, wrapped in layers of tissue, were the photo frames that had filled Andrea’s room with the history of their all-too-short time together. Slowly Holly extracted each one and stood them on the long coffee table in front of her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Connor shifted uncomfortably, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his trousers. “Do you want to talk about her?”

“What’s to tell? She’s gone.”

He squatted down in front of her, taking the frame she clutched in numb fingers and setting it beside the others before wrapping his hands around hers. The heat of his skin enveloped her chilled hands, warming them through and sending the heat in a slow gentle wave up her arms. She didn’t want to feel. It was better to stay numb. Holly tried to pull her hands away, but his hold on her firmed.

“Tell me,” he coaxed. He hated seeing her like this—empty of fire, of life. It was as if she’d given up on everything. He’d already spoken at length to the obstetrician, concerned about the effect of her mental distress on the baby, and despite the specialist’s assurances, he had to do something to chip her out of the frozen block of ice she’d locked herself into.

He pulled a clean monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and gently mopped at the tears she hadn’t even realised she’d shed. “You never listed her on your company profile as a contact in lieu of next of kin. Why?”

Holly sighed and leaned her head back against the cushioned fabric, casting her mind back to the first time she’d met Andrea. It was so unfair that, aside from herself, there was no one left to remember what Andrea had been like before she’d become ill. Maybe if she could share some piece of her past, instead of locking it all inside, it would help keep Andrea alive in someone else’s memory for a little longer. Holly drew in a deep settling breath.

“I was fifteen when I was fostered by the Haweras. I thought they’d be like all the others, happy to help until I got into trouble more times than they could cope and then wash their hands of me. But no. They kept coming back to bail me out of trouble, until one night Andrea, who’d been with them already for about a year, told me how much it was hurting them all, her included, to see me trying to destroy myself.

“I’d never seen it through anyone else’s eyes before, but she made me believe that they saw something in me that was worth something. Worth keeping. No matter what I threw at them, they stayed right there beside me, until eventually it was easier to want to please them than to make them angry.”

“When did she get sick?” The hospital doctor had explained to him the nature of Andrea’s illness and its insidious, slow progression. He’d been stunned when he realised Holly had borne the financial and emotional burden alone for so long. It showed a side of her he’d suspected lurked beneath the aloof surface she presented the rest of the world. But why, then, had she given up all rights to her baby? For someone who’d so obviously clung to the one person who had loved her in return, why would she relinquish the chance to share that with a child of her own?

“She started showing early symptoms when she was about sixteen. She went from being a happy girl to having massive mood swings, and her grades at school started to slide. At first I thought it was my fault for being a bad influence, or for not being supportive enough. But then we realised it was more than that. Bit by bit over the years, we lost her. The Haweras did what they could, but it was far more than they could handle financially. Soon after I started work at Knight’s, they were killed in a car accident. I took over everything for Andrea at that point. But it was never enough.”

Holly pushed up from the chair and stood in front of the picture window, staring at the rolling lawn that stretched to the small private golden beach and the sparkling blue water that lay beyond. “Did you know that if you carry the Huntington’s gene there’s a fifty percent chance of passing it on to your children?”

“No, I didn’t. Is that what’s bothering you about the baby? Do you think you might carry the gene?”