The Christmas Promise by Sue Moorcroft

Author:Sue Moorcroft
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-08-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

The zombie formerly known as Ava

Sam’s mouth was completely dry. It had taken him several seconds to process the fact that the giggling naked woman who’d appeared on his phone screen, her hair spilling across her breasts, was Ava, presently decorously dressed and sitting right in front of him. His heart had given a gigantic thump of dismay that instead of learning what lay beneath her clothes in a joyous and sensual sharing of bodies, it had been shown to him by that little shit Harvey out of a spiteful wish to humiliate her.

But now the shock was beginning to recede and his brain began to do the job he usually expected of it, everything resolving into pin-sharp focus. This wasn’t about him. This was all about Ava. And so much was now making sense.

The way she’d changed colour over the seemingly commonplace action of texting this evening.

Her overlong absence in the ladies.

Her occasionally distant or erratic behaviour.

White-hot fury coursed through him and he knew a compulsion to grab Harvey Snaith by the throat. Tightly.

But right now his concern was whether Ava was going to make it through the next few minutes. Her hand was sweating in his but her skin was icy cold. Her breathing was in rags and he tried to remember what to do when someone hyperventilated. Or even suffered cardiac arrest.

Reassurance seemed a good first measure. ‘It’s going to be OK.’ He had no real idea whether OK was even attainable. He was still firmly rooted in ‘unholy mess’ but nothing good would come of him sharing that perspective. ‘Don’t worry.’ Of course she was worried. She was terrified. ‘I’m going to help you.’ That much he could guarantee. ‘But we need to talk and I don’t think this is the best place, do you?’

He reached for her coat. ‘I’ll see you home.’ Damn. Izz would probably turn up before too much longer and while he suspected that Ava would have confided in Izz, he stood a better chance of unravelling this mess without her. ‘We’ll go to my place,’ he amended, ‘where we can sort this out. OK? Come on.’ He knew he was talking to her as if she were a child, but it allowed him to coax her rigidly to her feet and into her coat. He wound her scarf gently around her neck then took her freezing hand to lead her through what had become a raucous crowd.

Out in the street the wind rushed up to greet them, spitting chill raindrops into their faces as people milled in and out of the nearby Bangladeshi-Indian restaurants under red and green neon signs. At least the crowds attracted taxis and it wasn’t long before Sam spotted one with its yellow light aglow. Outmanoeuvring four girls waving foil balloons, he clamped his hand onto the door handle. ‘Sorry, my friend’s not well.’ He ignored their tutting and muttering and bundled Ava into the back seat.

‘We’re going to sort this out,’ he repeated when he’d climbed in beside her.

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