Summer Daydreams by Carole Matthews

Author:Carole Matthews
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 0751545430
Publisher: Sphere
Published: 2012-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 48

Petal is puking up again. No one told me when I signed up for motherhood that part of the deal was regular and inappropriately timed bouts of vomiting. When I decided that I’d like to have a child, I really had no idea that they could produce that much sick. Now, after four years of practice, that I can deal with. What’s more worrying is that Petal is also covered in livid red spots. She’s not had those before.

‘Chicken pox,’ Doctor Olly pronounces as I wipe her down with a flannel.

‘Is this a guess or are you sure?’

‘Google,’ Olly says. ‘I’m pretty sure.’

‘Oh, God.’ I am due at the Eurostar terminal in less than an hour to catch a train to Paris. If I don’t go soon, this minute, I won’t make my connection. And this is Paris Fashion Week. This is a big deal. The biggest deal.

Olly must read the bleakness on my face. ‘Go,’ he says.

‘You go. Jenny and I will look after her.’

I don’t like the way that statement slips so easily from his tongue. Jenny and I. I’m still not sure if there’s anything going on between them and, coward that I am, I haven’t had the courage to ask.

‘I can’t leave my sick child,’ I protest.

‘Think how much this little jaunt is costing,’ he says bluntly. I ignore the fact that he calls my important business trip ‘a little jaunt’.

‘We can’t afford to just lose that money. Petal will be fine. How long does chicken pox last? A week? Ten days?’

Better check with Google again. ‘Suppose it’s meningitis?’ I know I’m probably fretting unnecessarily, but you hear so much about it now. And it always seems to be misdiagnosed.

‘It isn’t. I’ll stake my life on it. This is a common childhood illness, Nell. She’ll be over it by the time you get back. You see, she’ll be better by then.’

That doesn’t make me feel better.

Olly sighs with exasperation. ‘What choice do we have?’ He’s right. At vast expense my train tickets are booked and my hotel too. I’m not exhibiting out there, but it’s a fantastic opportunity to network, to show that I can play with the big boys. I’ve only managed to secure a ticket, which are like gold dust, through Tod’s contacts. And he’s probably wondering where the hell I am right now. I’m supposed to be meeting him at St Pancras station and, knowing Tod, he’ll be there already. He’ll be sitting in a coffee bar looking immaculate and unflustered with newspaper in hand, enjoying a leisurely cappuccino. He won’t be dealing with impromptu puke and a severe attack of guilt.

I can’t not turn up today. It would certainly damage our working relationship if I left him in the lurch now. Tod, I’m absolutely sure, won’t understand that I can’t bear to leave my sick child. These are not considerations that he has in his life. How can I let him down at the very last minute? Particularly when he’s pulled so many strings to get me a ticket.

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