One Night Only (215 page)

W
it
h
a
new-foun
d
fir
e
i
n
he
r
bell
y
sh
e
lef
t
th
e
bemused nurs
e
an
d
mad
e
he
r
wa
y
t
o
Ba
y
T
wo
.
Sh
e
stopped
,
go
t
her bearing
s
an
d
looke
d
ove
r
t
o
th
e
left
.
Th
e
be
d
was surrounde
d
b
y
a
flora
l
curtai
n
an
d
sh
e
approache
d
i
t
with adrenalin
e
pumpin
g
throug
h
he
r
veins
.
Sh
e
mus
t
b
e
calm.
Sh
e
wa
s
no
t
ther
e
t
o
caus
e
trouble
.
Sh
e
wa
s
ther
e
t
o
make he
r
fina
l
peace
.

A
younge
r
nurs
e
steppe
d
ou
t
fro
m
th
e
curtai
n
and
swep
t
i
t
aroun
d
th
e
railings
,
acknowledgin
g
Ruth
’
s
presence
wit
h
a
smile
.
A
s
sh
e
ha
d
expected
,
Samanth
a
guarde
d
the bedsid
e
whil
e
he
r
daughte
r
Sapphir
e
stuffe
d
he
r
littl
e
face
wit
h
chocolate
.
Samanth
a
didn
’
t
mee
t
Ruth
’
s
eye
,
instead
sh
e
stroke
d
Hilary
’
s
han
d
a
s
th
e
woma
n
la
y
asleep.
Hilary
’
s
bod
y
wa
s
barel
y
ski
n
an
d
bon
e
an
d
sh
e
looked
lik
e
a
translucen
t
dol
l
a
s
sh
e
la
y
agains
t
th
e
star
k
white be
d
linen
.

“Ho
w
.
.
.
ho
w
lon
g
ha
s
thi
s
bee
n
.
.
.?
”

T
o
he
r
surpris
e
th
e
ange
r
subside
d
a
t
th
e
sigh
t
o
f
her mothe
r
,
s
o
wea
k
an
d
tin
y
an
d
obliviou
s
t
o
he
r
presence
an
d
pain
.
Sh
e
didn
’
t
loo
k
lik
e
herself
.
Ho
w
coul
d
sh
e
with suc
h
a
violent
,
decayin
g
illnes
s
eatin
g
he
r
insides
?
She
looke
d
lik
e
sh
e
wa
s
alread
y
dead
.

“Sh
e
doesn
’
t
hav
e
long,
”
sai
d
Samantha
.
“I
t
wa
s
a
shor
t
battle
,
bu
t
tha
t
battl
e
i
s
almos
t
ove
r
no
w
,
isn
’
t
it, Mum?
”

Mum
!
Rut
h
nodde
d
slowl
y
i
n
acceptanc
e
o
f
th
e
news. Thi
s
wa
s
no
t
a
tim
e
t
o
sho
w
bitternes
s
o
r
resentment. Ther
e
wa
s
n
o
poin
t
lookin
g
back
.
Wha
t
wa
s
done
,
was done
.
Sh
e
wa
s
her
e
no
w
.
Sh
e
kne
w
no
w
.

“An
d
Brian?
”
sh
e
asked
.
“Wher
e
i
s
he?
”

Samanth
a
looke
d
u
p
a
t
he
r
a
t
last
.
“He
’
s
a
t
work
.
He doe
s
th
e
evenin
g
shift
,
I
d
o
th
e
daytime
.
It
’
s
bee
n
a
rough tim
e
fo
r
al
l
o
f
us.
”

All
of
us
.
All
of
them
.
Such
simple
words
that
reminde
d
Rut
h
tha
t
sh
e
wa
s
n
o
longe
r
par
t
o
f
thi
s
tight
famil
y
unit
.
Sh
e
wante
d
t
o
stam
p
he
r
fee
t
an
d
kic
k
and screa
m
a
t
Samanth
a
fo
r
no
t
tellin
g
he
r
tha
t
he
r
mother wa
s
dying
.
Sh
e
wante
d
t
o
fin
d
Bria
n
an
d
cal
l
hi
m
the
walkove
r
wim
p
tha
t
h
e
was
.
Bu
t
mos
t
o
f
al
l
sh
e
wante
d
to tal
k
t
o
he
r
mothe
r
.
Sh
e
wante
d
t
o
rewin
d
tim
e
s
o
tha
t
she
coul
d
fin
d
ou
t
jus
t
wh
y
he
r
mothe
r
resente
d
he
r
s
o
much. “
I
wan
t
he
r
t
o
kno
w
I
wa
s
here,
”
sh
e
said
.
He
r
throat wa
s
dr
y
an
d
sh
e
reall
y
wante
d
t
o
cr
y
.
“
I
wan
t
he
r
t
o
know
tha
t
.
.
.
”