‘They—they couldn’t be still alive, living on some jungle-clad island, could they?’
Zac’s mouth tilted in a wryly crooked smile. ‘I’ve played with that fantasy, too. But it’s been seventeen years...’
Chloe couldn’t imagine how awful it must have been for him—a mere eighteen years old and forced to carry on living without answers, just with terrible possibilities.
‘Right from the start I was worried about Liv,’ he said next. ‘I couldn’t bear to see her disappear into a foster home, so I applied to be her guardian. I dropped out of uni and got myself a job, so we could live together and I could look after her.’
‘Goodness,’ Chloe said softly, hoping she didn’t sound as surprised as she felt.
Zac’s lips curled unhappily. ‘It was possibly the stupidest decision I ever made.’
‘Don’t say that. I think it was incredibly brave of you.’
She was stunned to realise that Zac had sacrificed his own goals to try to keep what was left of his family intact. All she’d ever known about his private life was the revolving door of lookalike leggy blonde girlfriends. He’d never seemed to really care about any of them beyond their sex appeal and she’d assumed the ‘care factor’ gene was missing from his DNA.
But it was clear to her now that he’d cared very deeply about Liv.
‘I couldn’t keep her on track,’ Zac said, so softly Chloe almost missed it. ‘Liv never really looked on me as a parent. She wouldn’t accept me in a fathering role, so I had very little influence, I’m afraid. I think she was mad at our parents for disappearing the way they did and she saw me as an inadequate substitute. Before she was out of her teens she was into drinking and trying drugs. And then she was like a nomad, never wanting to settle. She didn’t want to study and she would never stay in one job for long enough to get any real skills. She was like a butterfly, always searching for a brighter flower.’
‘Might she have inherited that urge from your parents?’
‘Quite possibly, I guess.’
He stared unhappily up at the cabin’s ceiling and Chloe wished she could offer him wise words of consolation.
She did her best. ‘Honestly, I don’t think you should blame yourself for this accident, Zac.’
But he simply shook his head and closed his eyes.
* * *
It was ages before Chloe drifted off to sleep and when she woke a soft grey light filled the cabin and flight attendants were bringing around hot towels to freshen their hands and faces, as well as glasses of orange juice.
‘Morning, sleepyhead.’
Zac’s seat was already back in the upright position and he looked as if he’d been to the bathroom and washed and shaved.
Chloe yawned and hoped her hair wasn’t too messy. In a minute she would follow his example and freshen up. ‘What time is it?’
‘Seven forty-five. That’s Greenwich Mean Time, of course. If we were still at home it would be five forty-five in the evening.’
So...her parents had almost completed their first day in the hotel. Chloe hoped they were still enjoying themselves.
If she’d been in Brisbane, she would be putting the final touches to the office’s decorations and making last minute checks about the drinks and ice.
‘I hope you’re not worrying about your parents.’
‘No, I’m not.’ She knew they were in good hands and she’d left the hotel desk, the hired nurse and the chauffeur with all the phone numbers and information they could possibly need. ‘I was thinking about the office Christmas party tonight, actually.’
‘Really, Chloe?’ Zac was frowning at her now, although his eyes glinted with puzzled amusement.
‘I was looking forward to the party,’ she admitted, no longer caring if this revealed her inadequate social life.
‘You were looking forward to watching half the office staff get plastered and then staying behind to clean up their mess?’
She opened her mouth to protest.
Zac’s smile was gently teasing. ‘You’re going to see London at Christmas. I promise you that’s a thousand times better than the office do.’
‘I suppose it would be. When should we get our first glimpse of England?’
‘Oh, in about an hour.’
IT WAS RAINING when they touched down at Heathrow, but somehow that couldn’t dim Chloe’s excitement. As business class passengers with only carry-on baggage, she and Zac didn’t have to hang around in long queues and soon they were outside, suddenly very grateful for their warm overcoats and scarves.
While they waited for a taxi she made a quick phone call to her parents.
‘We’re about to go down to the dining room,’ her mum told her excitedly. ‘We’ve already checked out the menu and we’re having lamb cutlets and then rhubarb crumble. Give our love to Zac.’
They were having the time of their lives and, within moments, Chloe was climbing into a proper shiny black London taxi and her excitement mounted as they whizzed along busy rain-slick streets filled with other taxis and cars and bright red double-decker London buses. Ahead, on a pedestrian crossing, people huddled beneath umbrellas glistening with rain.
Zac asked the taxi driver to stop at their hotel to leave their luggage and Chloe caught a brief impression of huge glass doors, massive urns filled with greenery and enormous gold-framed mirrors in a white marbled foyer.
‘Now, we’d better head straight to the Metropolitan Police,’ Zac said when he returned.
‘Yes.’ Chloe dug out her phone and checked the arrangements she’d made for Zac to meet with Sergeant Davies. She gave their driver the address and then they were off again.
Three blocks later, they had stopped at traffic lights when she saw the trio of soldiers. The tall, broad-shouldered men were simply standing and chatting as they waited to cross a road, but all it took was the sight of their camouflage uniforms and berets to bring back memories of Sam.
It could still happen like that, even though she’d had three and a half years to recover. The smallest trigger could bring the threat of desperate black grief.
Not now...I can’t think about him now...
But now, on the far side of the world with her handsome boss, this painful memory was a timely reminder of the heartache that came with falling in love. Chloe knew she had to be super-careful...and she was grateful she’d trained herself to think of Zac as nothing but her boss...glad that she’d become an expert at keeping a tight lid on any deeper feelings...
At the police station, Sergeant Davies was very solicitous as he ushered them into his office. He told them that Liv’s death had been clearly accidental and there was no reason to refer it to the coroner.
‘The young man who was driving your sister to the hospital is definitely in the clear,’ he added. ‘He’s a Good Samaritan neighbour. He was injured, but he’s going to be OK. A badly broken leg, I believe.’
Zac sat stiffly, his face as grim as granite, as he received this news.
‘We’ll be laying serious charges against the driver of the other car,’ the sergeant then told them.
‘Driving under the influence?’ Zac asked.
This was answered by a circumspect nod of assent.
Zac sighed