Chapter Four
MEGAN LOOKED STUNNING. So much so that Jaye had forgotten to issue the expected compliment about her appearance. She wore a plain dark blue dress, the sheen of which didn’t come close to matching the sheen of her hair, which was caught up loosely at the back of her head. High heels made her legs look even longer than they actually were. The only jewellery she wore, a heavy twisted silver bangle, was obviously one of a kind. She made everyone else here look as if they’d tried far too hard, and in doing so had lost the sartorial plot.
The string quartet had thrown off the precision of Bach and begun to play a selection of popular songs, all with their very own distinctive flavour. In response, Jaye’s father had spun his mother into an empty space at one end of the ballroom, creating an impromptu dancing area.
The idea that Jaye might do the same with Megan was...impossible. He wanted too much from her. Her scent. The feel of her hand on his shoulder. That slightly dizzy feeling that her smile engendered.
‘Very nice party.’ Tim broke his reverie.
‘Thanks. There are a few people I’d like you to meet...’ Jaye resolved the need to mingle with his suspicion that Tim would be standing alone in a corner of the room if he left him here. Tim didn’t do small talk, and if he’d found him with anyone other than Megan, it would have been a surprise to find his friend so relaxed and at ease.
‘Uh... Later? I’m getting a headache, I don’t suppose you have any paracetamol, do you?’
‘In the box in the kitchen. You know where the key is. Are you all right?’
Tim shot him a pained look. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Stop being such a doctor and go and do your duty as a host...’
* * *
Out of the range of Jaye’s smile Megan had begun to relax again. She’d found Alice and they’d joined the group of new friends, laughing and talking by the fireplace. It was almost an hour before Megan saw Jaye heading towards them, a bottle of red in one hand and a bottle of white in the other, obviously intent on refilling their glasses.
She slipped away. A little cool air on her face, maybe some water, would dispel the heat that she felt rising to her cheeks.
A few wrong turns and she found her way downstairs to the kitchen. The light was on, and Megan looked around, wondering if she’d disturbed someone else who was intent on escape.
No one. Megan fetched a glass from the cupboard and held it under the tap. Then the sound of a rasped breath reached her ears.
She jumped, looking around. Still no one. Maybe this place was haunted, only that wouldn’t account for anything because she didn’t believe in ghosts. She walked to the far end of the room, to a brick archway, finding that it led into a small alcove with a couple of easy chairs and a table.
Tim was sitting in one of the chairs, a half-empty glass of water and an open packet of paracetamol on the table in front of him. His eyes were closed and his breathing seemed laboured.
It occurred to Megan that maybe this was one last challenge, designed to test the group of doctors and nurses. But Jaye and Tim would hardly stage such a thing here, and anyway the conference was over now. When she walked over to Tim, touching the back of his hand, his eyes flickered open.
‘Megan...? What’s the matter?’
‘Are you all right?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, leaning forward to lay her hand on Tim’s forehead. He was burning up.
‘Just a twenty-four-hour flu bug. I thought I’d got the better of it, but it seems to have come on again. I’ll be okay in a minute—go back to the party.’ Tim reached groggily for the packet of paracetamol and Megan snatched it up from the table. Two tablets had already been broken from the blister pack, and if Tim had taken them she didn’t want him taking any more.
‘Will you stay here? Just for one moment?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, no problem.’ Tim’s eyes fluttered closed again. Megan turned, hurrying through the kitchen and upstairs to the ballroom. In a room which held more than its share of doctors, there was only one she wanted to find.
* * *
Jaye felt Megan’s touch on his arm, and the warm shiver that ran down his spine suddenly froze when he saw the look on her face. ‘Please come. It’s Tim, he’s ill.’
‘What’s the matter? He was complaining of a headache earlier...’ Jaye dumped the bottle he was holding on the mantelpiece and followed Megan, who was already making her way back out of the room.
‘He says it’s a twenty-four-hour flu. I’m not so sure about that.’
Jaye was much more disposed to trust Megan’s assessment of the situation than Tim’s. She stopped as she reached the main hallway, looking right and then left.
‘Where is he?’
‘In the main kitchen, downstairs.’
‘This way...’ Jaye laid his hand lightly on her back to guide her in the right direction, without thinking, feeling her jump as he touched her. Even now, as they hurried down to the kitchen, electricity was zinging in the air.