Seaside Manor Bed and Breakfast - Lilly Mirren Page 0,2
She was heading into surgery, might not make it through, and not a single soul in the world cared. How had her life come to this?
She’d been raised in a loving family home, had plenty of friends, a good life. And now, she was all alone, without anyone to say goodbye as they wheeled her into surgery. Loneliness swamped her like plunging into frigid waters that closed over her head. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t see a way ahead.
If she died in surgery, whose life would be impacted? Apart from the fact that she wouldn’t show up to work tomorrow, how would anyone even be inconvenienced by the loss? Would there be a funeral, or would she be lowered into the ground by strangers?
Self-pity formed a lump in her throat and tears blurred her vision.
“There you are, Proby,” said Franklin as he burst into the room, relief tinging his voice.
Startled, she wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Sarge?”
He stopped beside the bed, clenched his hands into fists, then relaxed them again. Finally, he reached for one of hers and held it. “I’ve been looking for you. They said you were in emergency, then I looked in the cardiac wing… anyway, I found you. That’s all that matters. How’re you feeling?”
Relief overwhelmed her and she couldn’t speak. She shook her head slowly, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. She knew Franklin well enough to understand that her crying would send him running from the room and she wanted him there. More than she’d thought possible. Having someone with her, even her jerk of a boss who clearly disliked her, was better than no one at all.
His eyes found hers, softened and he pulled a chair up close to the bed to sit down, without releasing his grip on her hand. “Don’t worry, Proby, you’re gonna be okay. The doc wouldn’t say much since I’m not family, but I can tell. I’ve seen enough people on death’s door to know it when I see it, and you don’t have that look. You’ll pull through, I guarantee it.”
She nodded, pushed down a sob. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course, where else would I be but with my partner?”
“I know I’m a disappointment, but I try…” Her voice broke.
He shook his head. “No, it’s not you, I’m just an ass. Don’t listen to me. I’m old and grumpy, and sometimes I say things I shouldn’t.”
She chuckled, then winced as pain shot through her gut. “Old? Really, boss? You’re only a few years older than I am.”
“I feel as old as time,” he replied with a wink.
“Anyway, I appreciate you being here.”
“Anyone I can call for you? Someone on their way?” he asked.
She looked at the ceiling, shook her head, lips clenched into a straight line.
He sighed. “Okay, but you let me know if you change your mind. Because there’s one thing I know about you, Constable, and it’s that out there somewhere are people who care about you. I don’t know why you’ve walked away from them, why you don’t want them here by your side right now, but I know they’re out there.”
She met his gaze, her throat aching. “How do you know that?”
He smiled. “Because much to my dismay, you’re pretty darned likeable, Proby. It’s inevitable that there’d be people who care.”
Chapter 3
Diana
Two weeks later
The caw of a crow outside her bedroom window woke Diana at five a.m. The bird continued its monotone call like a metronome that couldn’t be silenced; it grated on her nerves. Usually crows stayed away, since she had a large number of kookaburras who liked to perch in the gum tree at the end of the garden overnight. Still, it was there, and it had woken her before her alarm. She rubbed her eyes and swung her feet to the floor with a grunt, then pressed the button on her old clock radio to switch off the alarm. She’d let Rupert sleep this morning. Lately he’d looked more tired than ever, dark smudges beneath each eye. The doctor had told them he had to take things easy, but no one had talked about what that really meant — either she had to bear the load of running the business all alone or they’d have to sell up and move.
One glance revealed Rupert was still sound asleep and her movements hadn’t roused him. He snored softly beside her. Her husband had never been a morning person, unlike her. She was grateful