Midwife On the Orient Express Read online

  Kelsie

  Kelsie felt like sinking into the grey concrete, maybe even through that hard surface, to disappear into the murky bottom of the Venice waterways that were probably somewhere under the railway station.

  This was the first time she’d seen Lucas since that day. She’d written, after she’d tried to explain outside the registry office and failed, then run away to watch from around a corner as he’d paced and waited for her to come back. She’d committed every line of his worried face to memory because he’d never forgive her.

  Well, with one glance at his face this morning when he’d recognised her, she could tell there still might be something he wanted to say to her about all that.

  She deserved it.

  As time went on she’d had a little more insight into how he might have felt. She swallowed nervously.

  At eighteen she’d glimpsed the idea of equality, and even then she’d had a core of sense and clarity that the more romantic Lucas had lacked. But she shouldn’t have run away when he wouldn’t listen.

  Well, they were adults now.

  In that brief flash of recognition she’d seen the differences too. He’d morphed into a sternly handsome man with just a touch of silver at his temples – where had those years gone?

  He certainly wasn’t nineteen anymore.

  They’d been far too young to elope. Her aunt had reassured her of that. She’d reassured herself.

  But he had never answered her letters and she would never forget his face that day.

  All those thoughts rushed and spun in front of her as Lucas gestured, less than graciously now that he recognised her, to take his seat.

  Well then, best show she was a mature woman now. ‘Thank you.’ Her composure sounded secure. Not much else she could do. He didn’t offer any other comment as she settled next to the older lady in the gorgeous pink designer suit.

  Lucas removed his cold gaze from her and raised a mocking eyebrow at the woman. ‘I’m having coffee. Would you like one, Gran?’

  ‘Perhaps three?’ The older lady turned a sweet smile her way. ‘Do you take sugar?’

  Kelsie realised the woman’s intent and felt her cheeks heat. Resisted the urge to put her hand up to hide the flush. No. No. He wouldn’t want to buy her coffee. Her eyes travelled to Lucas and the bitter sardonic tilt to his smile brought up her chin. Oh heck. They were both trapped. ‘White, no sugar. Thank you.’

  Sitting uncomfortably on a seat she didn’t want, Kelsie watched Lucas Larimar stride away. Lucas, the man who used to be her best friend, her hero, so tall, so rigidly straight, with waves of disdain emanating from him like mist from the canals. She sighed and relived the last, painful time, she’d seen him.

  She hadn’t expected it would be fifteen years before she saw him again.

  The elderly lady next to her leaned closer and the serene scent of Arpege perfume drifted across the seat like a trip into the past. One of the few memories she held of her mother. The bottle had sat in the bottom of Kelsie’s drawer after she’d retrieved it from where her father had thrown it in the garbage.

  Kelsie inhaled with a nostalgic smile, and the penny dropped that this must be the woman whom Lucas had talked about all those years ago who rode the Orient Express. She was the reason Kelsie had sketched in this journey on her wishes for the future.

  The elderly lady twinkled from beside her as her gaze missed nothing of Kelsie’s attire. Her faded blue eyes were brightly inquisitive, very friendly, and despite the pit that had just opened Kelsie couldn’t help a small smile back. ‘I’m Winsome Black. And if I’m not mistaken, you know my grandson, Lucas?’

  ‘Kelsie Summers.’ She looked briefly towards the tall man striding away. ‘I knew Lucas a long time ago.’ She exhaled for the idealism of a young hero and her part in fracturing it.

  Winsome snorted. ‘Must have been memorable because I rarely see any expression cross my grandson’s face and that was a positive grimace.’

  Rueful, Kelsie’s smile escaped. ‘Gee, thanks.’ True, it hadn’t been a happy face on poor Lucas, and another swift peek to where extraordinarily broad shoulders were just disappearing into the station coffee shop showed several other female eyes watching him.

  He’d changed.

  A lot.

  He’d always been a favourite with the girls at school, though he’d been her friend, but she’d bet his wife hated having him out of her sight. Where would they be now if she hadn’t run away?

  ‘So. You’re that Kelsie!’ It wasn’t a question. ‘How fascinating.’ This drawl was accompanied by a demure smile and an even brighter twinkle in the eye of the older lady, and Kelsie almost wished she’d followed Lucas.

  Her thoughts must have shown because Winsome touched her arm. ‘Don’t go. I’ll be good. But it’s Christmas in two days. You could humour an old lady’s curiosity just a little.’ Not waiting for permission, Winsome launched into her cross-examination. ‘Are you married?’

  Kelsey blinked. Straight to it, then? Not a lot she could do about this, Kelsie thought, as she accepted the inevitable and settled back for the interrogation with all the composure she could muster. ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? A young, attractive woman like yourself must have had her chances?’

  Kelsie thought, I didn’t marry the man I did love. She wasn’t going to marry any man she didn’t.

  ‘I love my independence. And my work. I’ve been very busy with my career.’ She hadn’t meant to sound defensive. She wasn’t feeling defensive!

  Winsome looked dubious. ‘I know someone like that.’ Winsome shook her head at a thought she didn’t share. ‘You’re not even engaged?’ Inquisitive faded blue eyes twinkled at her again.

  Not even. Kelsie lifted her chin. ‘No. My life is good just as it is.’

  Winsome sat back. ‘My grandson has avoided marriage too.’ Kelsie shifted on the seat in embarrassment and Winsome raised her hand. ‘I’ll stop.’

  Kelsie had to smile. ‘You seem to have acquired the salient information.’ And imparted a bit as well. No doubt as you meant to.

  ‘My modus operandi, dear.’

  ‘I consider myself warned.’ Kelsie inclined her head but she was good at assessing people and there was no malice in the older lady. Just mischief. And affection for her grandson, no doubt. They smiled at each other in mutual understanding and Kelsie decided they’d found a strange rapport at such short notice.

  But there was food for thought in her new knowledge to go with the coffee that was approaching. Why wasn’t Lucas married? How could that be?

  As if she’d heard the thought, Winsome added, ‘He’s been very busy with his career.’

  Lucas

  Waiting for his order, Lucas couldn’t believe his stupidity. He’d just walked away to get his head together – not that he wasn’t over her – good grief it had been years ago, but it had been a shock and coffee had seemed a good excuse.

  Stupidity. Now the conversation was open there would be no stopping Gran from pumping Kelsie Summers about why he’d reacted like he had.

  Her name echoed in his brain and that echo travelled through his body unerringly, stirring every nerve ending into alertness until he shook his head to evict the emotions. Gran would burrow for all the information she could get.

  Maybe Kelsie wouldn’t talk. She hadn’t shared her thoughts with him until too late.

  No denying if he’d stayed around and damped down the friendliness, instead of sloping off, he might have been able to hustle Gran onto the train and only bad luck would have made them meet again.

  Too little.

  Too late.

  Too bad.

  He’d have to move on, he thought, as he juggled his coffees and picked up the pace back towards them. Now he really needed the brew to wash away the bitterness at the back of his throat.

  Funny how feelings he’d forgotten roiled in his belly as if it was yesterday and he encouraged the anger that had finally obliterated the hurt of her rejection in Sydney so long
ago.

  Kelsie.

  The one person he’d thought he could trust.

  Damn her.

  The buried embers flared and the heat of it gave him pause. The rational person he’d grown into backed off, frowned such excess emotion down, and locked it away.

  Douse that anger with some of that water under the bridge, and there were plenty of bridges in Venice to let it wash away. Quite symbolic really.

  It was just the shock.

  Not a huge deal after all. The tension eased in his neck as he approached them.

  Then he saw his grandmother’s smile and Lucas wasn’t so sure he trusted the merriment in the older woman’s face. His grandmother’s words drifted his way. ‘And here he comes.’

  Lucas handed Kelsie her coffee and inclined his head at her murmured thanks.

  ‘Thank you, dear boy.’ Winsome accepted hers with all-seeing eyes. She waved her hand at the notice and pretended to sigh. ‘I’m disappointed with the waiting room for the world’s most glamorous journey, Lucas.’

  He saw the twinkle as if she knew a secret no one else did but humoured her. Lucas glanced at the tiny white sign alone on the concrete. It was his first time here.

  Now that he thought about it. ‘It could be more fitting. If I could make it into the Ritz for you, Gran, I would.’ He snapped his fingers.

  Like an echo, as if conjured in the air or by his fingers, the sound of steps rang across the platform and a young woman in a gold-edged royal-blue fitted skirt and high-collared jacket high-heeled her way across the concourse. She pushed a tall covered pile on wheels towards them. Another equally well-dressed young woman pushed another covered luggage trolley.

  Lucas observed his grandmother’s contented eyes and shook his head. Minx. ‘Impeccable timing, Gran.’ It wasn’t luggage on the trolley. It was furniture. He saw Kelsie blink. He actually agreed with her astonishment.

  The hostess directed her junior to unroll a plush, deep red carpet stamped with a blue and gold insignia and then... magic.

  They watched as within seconds a large circular waiting area sprang up in an empty space on the grey concrete.

  A beautiful, polished oak reception desk sporting VSOE insignias; two potted palms in wheeled four-legged brass pots; a gold-edged name plate for the counter; and a Royal Doulton bowl similar to one he’d seen in his grandmother’s china cabinet sat filled with perfect roses.

  Lucas decided the flowers looked suspiciously real.

  The young hostess snapped open a box of labels and turned to the bemused crowd. ‘Who is first?’ She smiled and then disappeared from view behind the surge of patrons.

  He felt Kelsie’s glance pass over his face on the way to his grandmother’s satisfied smile and her purple-blue eyes, the colour of the azure kingfisher’s wings, were crinkled with delight.

  ‘I can see why you travel with him.’ Kelsie spoke to Winsome as they remained seated to allow the crowd to surge. A prickle of annoyance itched his shoulders. So calm. So at ease. She should be the one squirming with embarrassment meeting him. Not making jokes with his grandmother.

  Winsome nodded affably and Lucas bit back a sigh. He had no doubt his Gran was very pleased with herself on many levels.

  At that moment the sound of a diesel engine and the unmistakable rattle of wheels on rails heralded the arrival of the latest locomotive. Heads turned to watch the world’s most famous train pull in.

  Shiny blue carriages with burnished gold edges and lettering rolled towards them. The sparkling windows shone as the wheels locked on the rails and screeched in protest as they slowed to a stop.

  Anticipation rose in air tinged with the smell of diesel from the train, but all Lucas could think was thank goodness for the distraction. The perfect excuse to put some distance between them and Kelsie.

  Before he could move on that thought Kelsie turned to Winsome. ‘I’ll leave my bag here but please don’t worry about it. I’ll watch from where I am. I’d like to go and have a closer look.’

  So why did that annoy him she’d got in first? Stop it. She was probably genuinely excited to see the train and he was too full of himself.

  Winsome patted her leg. ‘Of course.’ They were at the patting stage of friendship already, Lucas noted sardonically.

  Kelsie stood and without glancing at him she carried her disposable coffee cup to the platform and began to wander up the outside length of the train.

  For a moment Lucas’s gaze followed her, barely noticing shiny gold trim around the windows and gorgeous lettering proclaiming ‘Compagnie Internationale Des Wagons-Lits Et Des Grands Express Europeens’ above the glass. The woman peered in as if that glimpse into a bygone era held her spellbound. He could see it did and his ire subsided. He’d known it would.

  Back on the bench his grandmother raised her brows quizzically. ‘She’s very striking.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Lucas didn’t want to think about Kelsie Summers and he certainly didn’t want to talk about her. His gaze strayed disobediently up the platform again before he whipped it back.

  She still had the whippet thinness he remembered, like she needed a good feed, but had gained subtle womanly curves that beckoned anyone with a spoonful of testosterone without her even trying. An Italian guard lifted his hat at her and said something that made her laugh.

  He snapped his teeth together. ‘If you give me the tickets I’ll check the baggage in. I imagine it will take a while before all these people are sorted and the luggage loaded.’

  The most traumatic part of the trip so far had been his grandmother’s refusal to allow him to care for the tickets.

  He wasn’t used to it. The whole “not being in command” thing. And he knew she regularly mislaid articles, purses, phones, her passport, so he’d be glad when they were on the train.

  His mind drifted unexpectedly. Kelsie used to misplace things all the time too.

  He snapped back to the present and the frown he sent his grandmother must have been more ferocious than he thought because she burst out laughing.

  ‘And will you cut off my head if I don’t?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Give you the tickets. You do like to be boss.’ She shot him a penetrating glance. ‘Thinking of other things, were you?’

  Lord, he’d forgotten how easily she read him. ‘No.’ He took the tickets she offered. ‘And thank you,’ he added, his voice dry. This journey could be hell if Winsome decided to tease him for most of it.

  He moved into line behind a young woman buried in what looked like a 1940s trench coat, ankle-length, two sizes too large for her and the fur of the collar was pulled up around her ears. When she darted a look at him all he could see was the bridge of her nose under her dark glasses and the thick black hair scraped back off her high forehead.

  ‘Buon giorno,’ he said.

  ‘Buon giorno,’ she whispered back, and turned away.

  Maybe she was a very young secret agent? This trip had the makings of a farce already, he thought, and glanced ahead to another older lady around his grandmother’s age. The older lady smiled at him and was accompanied by a younger woman.

  He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. That could be an answer. Distract Gran with a kindred spirit. Maybe arrange to have them sit together at dinner. He glanced at the new girl. She had a nice smile, so even if Gran tried to pair him off with someone else, it wouldn’t be too bad.

  Anywhere away from Kelsie Summers.

  Truth be told, he didn’t understand why he was dwelling on such a chance encounter with a woman he’d once fancied in his callow youth. Well, maybe a little more than that, but it wasn’t like he’d carried her with him for all these years – or been celibate.

  Far from it.

  Nor, a derisive voice inside suggested, had he found anyone else he could think of joining his life with, but he impatiently brushed that thought away. A fulltime relationship was the last thing he required. He seriously didn’t have time.

  The line moved forward and he wondered idly w
here the luggage for the woman in front was.

  Which made him shoot a glance back to where Kelsie’s suitcase-asaurus rex loomed, and decided it was the biggest damn thing he’d ever seen. Even she’d have trouble losing that.

  He wondered if she knew she couldn’t have it in the cabin with her and then shrugged. And why was that his problem? What was wrong with his brain today?

  Thankfully the line moved forward and he directed his feet to move on too.

  His eyes drifted back when the line stopped again. Her suitcase was still there. Might have been a stretch to think that someone would steal it anyway but…

  He remembered the two women sitting together when he’d brought back the coffee. Having their lovely conversation. His grandmother would have mentioned her favourite topic. That Lucas wasn’t married.

  He groaned and tried not to crush the tickets in his clenched hand. Kelsie had always been a great listener. Just not so good at sharing her thoughts. He turned back to the line.

  Insidiously, while he stared at the back of the head of the woman in front, his mind drifted to all those plans they’d had when he’d been young and stupid. Plans he’d built in his head during those impressionable teenage years when everything assumed dramatic proportions and stayed in the memory, coupled with the clarity of youthful recollections.

  Plans for Kelsie that solidified the more angry and bitter her father had become. Lucas wanted to rescue her. The mapping of a solid future that would help the world and still keep Kelsey safe. And Kelsey had been the only one he had ever shared them with because she’d been so much a part of his life then.

  The first plan had always been to marry Kelsie. Keep her safe. And one day he would take her to Venice on the Orient Express when they could afford it, because it was the dream she really had clung to on her sad days and he wanted to make her smile.

  After he’d become a doctor while she became his wife.

  He’d been so stupid.

  He shook his head and returned to the present as the line moved forward again.