Festive Fling to Forever
Author
Karin Baine
Reads
19.7K
Chapters
9
CHAPTER ONE
THIS WAS AS adventurous as Sophie French liked to get. Actually, even being here on the jetty waving off Clem the boatman and Jack Matthews was a tad out of her comfort zone. Enys Island might only be across that stretch of water Jack was sailing over to get supplies but it wasn’t Carey Cove and she didn’t like to stray too far from home.
‘See you later,’ she called hopefully into the wind. It was Jack’s pregnant wife she was here to see, otherwise she would never have ventured to somewhere so isolated in this weather. Her job as a midwife at Carey House meant she sometimes had to travel to the more remote areas around Cornwall to see her patients but putting herself in any jeopardy was not in her nature. If not for the sake of her patients she would happily stay put in her hometown for the rest of her days. Given the chance, she would have all of her pregnant ladies safe and sound in the maternity ward at their cottage hospital lest anything happened, but not everyone thought as she did. Some mothers-to-be preferred the idea of a home birth, praying they would have a perfect, natural delivery. There was no reason they shouldn’t, but Sophie liked to be prepared for all emergencies.
She had always been a cautious child. Much to her parents’ chagrin, she was sure, when they had the kind of adventurous spirit she’d never possessed. Whilst they had travelled the world on a shoestring budget, Sophie had been content to stay at home under the care of her grandmother. As a young girl, all she had craved was the security of four walls and familiar surroundings over snow-capped mountains and humid tropical forests. Things had not changed in her twenty-nine years. Especially when her fears had been proven tragically correct.
Only once, when she was ten years old, had she tried to convince everyone, including herself, that she was ready to travel with them. Only to get cold feet at the last minute and disappoint everyone. Her guilt was further compounded when they’d been killed in a mountaineering accident on that very trip.
Since then she had become what some people called overcautious, but she only wanted to keep herself and her patients safe. Her one nod to her parents’ legacy was her chosen career. After discovering her mother had trained as a midwife herself before quitting to travel, Sophie had followed in her footsteps to nearby Carey House.
Now a midwife herself, Sophie went on the journey along with her pregnant patients. Including home visits to isolated islands in wintry weather.
She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and pulled her scarf up around her nose before facing into the wind. It was a short walk to the cottage but the weather and rocky terrain would make it a challenge. The land was mostly used for grazing and it was not conducive for sightseeing or travelling medical professionals.
The warm glow in the window up ahead and the cosy prospect of a home fire burning spurred Sophie onwards. She would never have survived her parents’ Bohemian lifestyle, not knowing where or when she would next find shelter or food. Sometimes she wondered if she had been swapped at birth when she was so different to the people she had been born to. Perhaps there was a quiet, unassuming family out there somewhere, struggling to relate to their free-spirited daughter, who did not fit into their world either.
Sophie rapped on the door out of courtesy, even though she knew it would be unlocked. There was no need to worry about anyone breaking in on the island when the majority of the inhabitants were livestock. The Matthews could see everyone who visited Enys from the window of their front room.
‘Hey, Molly. It’s Sophie, the midwife from Carey House.’
‘Hi, Sophie, come on in. It’ll take me ages to haul my backside up out of bed to let you in otherwise,’ the voice shouted from upstairs.
Usually Molly was already up doing her chores when Sophie got here, even with only a matter of weeks left of her pregnancy. To find her apparently still in bed was not like her at all.
Sophie hustled upstairs to the bedroom where she had done Molly’s previous pregnancy checks. The room was dark, the curtains unopened and Molly was lying flat on the bed. She hadn’t even managed to sit up for her visitor.
‘Do you mind if I open the curtains for some light so I can see what I’m doing?’
‘Go ahead,’ Molly replied, mid-yawn.
‘How are you feeling today?’ Even in the gloom of the afternoon Sophie could see how pale and weary she looked. Not at all her usual vibrant, blooming self.
‘Exhausted. I think it’s the time of year. The darker days and horrible weather always make me feel tired.’
‘Well, I’ll just do a few checks to make sure there’s nothing else going on. I’ll go and give my hands a wash first, if that’s okay?’
‘Sure.’ Molly attempted to hoist herself up and Sophie hooked a hand under her arm to help her into a sitting position. She propped up the pillows for Molly before going to wash in the bathroom.
‘Not long to go now,’ Sophie commented on her return, the thought of bringing another life into the world putting a smile on her face.
‘Thank goodness. At this rate I think I could pass as Father Christmas if you put me in a red suit and beard.’
Sophie chuckled. It was always the same when her patients were late into their third trimester. As much as they were looking forward to the arrival of their little bundles of joy, they were also glad to get back control of their bodies.
Sophie had not experienced pregnancy for herself—perhaps one day if she was lucky—but she had dealt with enough pregnant women to witness their frustration and some of the more challenging aspects of childbearing.
‘At least the little one will be here in time for Christmas to make it extra special.’ The picture of a happy family gathered together always brought a lump to her throat. It was something she had never really had with her parents. They’d usually spent the winter months in exotic climes, leaving her with her grandmother for Christmas. As much as she had loved her gran, she’d longed to experience the kind of family get-togethers normal families had at that time of year. A quiet turkey dinner for two and the prospect of unwrapping a travel journal or some Peruvian panpipes did not hold the same excitement factor everyone else seemed to have leading up to the big day.
‘Yes, I have all the present shopping done so I’m fully expecting not to leave the house once Jack brings the other supplies home. I will be happy with just the three of us cosied up in the cottage for Christmas.’ There was a twinkle in Molly’s eye as she said it. Highlighting to Sophie once more that the season was about being with family and loved ones, not token gifts or a desire to be somewhere warmer or more exciting than Carey Cove. That ache in her heart hurt a bit more.
‘Sounds lovely.’
‘Hopefully I’ll be able to shake off this malaise or I won’t be fit to even push this baby out when the time comes.’
‘Don’t worry. It will do you good to put your feet up for a while. I’m sure that lovely husband of yours will do anything you need.’
‘Yes, I’m very lucky. He’s been doing all the cooking. Not so good at the cleaning, but he’s been a great help.’
‘That’s what I like to hear—a husband who isn’t afraid to muck in when called upon. It makes life easier if there are two parents actively involved in the household. Now, I’m going to take a look at your blood pressure to make sure there’s nothing else making you tired.’ Sophie took out the cuff, wrapped it around Molly’s arm and took the reading. Low blood pressure was common during pregnancy, but any significant drop could be a sign of something more serious, so it was necessary to keep a good record.
‘Have you experienced any dizziness, blurred vision or excessive thirst?’ The symptoms most associated with low blood pressure.
‘No. As I said, I’m just sleepy today.’
‘That all seems fine,’ Sophie said, undoing the cuff again, satisfied there was not a problem to worry about where her blood pressure was concerned. ‘Do you have a urine sample for me?’
‘It’s there on the dresser.’ Molly pointed over at the plastic sample bottle propped up on the dressing table.
Using the test strips from her bag, Sophie noted the results. ‘Absolutely perfect. While I’m here I’ll check on baby’s progress too. If you could shuffle back down the bed that would be great.’
With Sophie’s assistance Molly was able to lie down in order for her examination.
‘I’ll try and warm my hands up first,’ she said, rubbing her hands together as Molly lifted her nightdress up over her sizeable bump.
Applying firm pressure, Sophie felt around, trying to gauge the baby’s position. With five weeks to go she would have expected the baby to be moving freely but it soon became apparent the head was already engaged in the pelvis.
It wasn’t completely unheard of and didn’t mean there would be a problem or even that Molly would go into labour immediately. However, the baby remained in the occipito-posterior position, facing towards the stomach instead of the back, spine parallel to the mother’s. Most babies would spontaneously rotate to face the right direction before birth, but on those rare occasions when the baby did not rotate there could be a prolonged delivery and severe backache where an epidural was needed to alleviate the pain. It could mean a hospital stay and she would prefer a transfer to St Isolde’s, the main hospital in the area which dealt with their high-risk pregnancies.
‘Is something wrong?’ Molly queried when Sophie took her time confirming what was happening.
‘Nothing to worry about, but your little one is facing the wrong way at the minute. There’s plenty of time for him or her to turn around. Sometimes it can happen right at the last minute. I know you want a home birth, but a hospital delivery is something we might have to think about if things don’t change.’
She could see the news had made Molly more emotional than usual, her eyes welling up with tears. It was understandable. Sophie wanted all of her patients to experience the birth process whatever way they envisioned it, it being such a special time in a mother’s life. However, she had to put their welfare first.
‘I would want Jack with me.’
‘Of course. We don’t need to make any decisions yet, just keep an eye on baby’s position.’
With that, the mobile phone sitting on the night stand began to buzz.
‘Speak of the devil.’ Molly smiled and stretched across to answer it.
Sophie watched her smile transform into a frown before she handed the phone over to her. ‘Jack wants to speak to you.’
‘Hello? This is Sophie.’
‘Sophie, I was hoping you could break the news to Molly... I don’t want her to panic.’
Sophie’s stomach plummeted into her shoes, waiting for the bad news to follow. Whatever it was, on top what she had just told her it was liable to send Molly into a tailspin, and she didn’t need any further upset.
‘Uh-huh?’ She tried not to worry Molly, who was listening intently to every word, her forehead lined with concern.
‘There’s a storm rolling in. The weather changed so quickly Clem doesn’t think we’re going to be able to get back tonight.’
Sophie was momentarily stunned into silence as she processed the implications of what he was saying. Not only did it mean she couldn’t get Molly to hospital if needed, but she wouldn’t be getting home either. They were stranded here for the night.
‘Okay. Let me know when that changes.’ She made the decision not to share her concerns about the baby’s position with him. There was nothing to say Molly would go into labour tonight and they could deal with that tomorrow, getting her a referral to St Isolde’s. As usual, she was probably being overcautious, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
For now, the best she could do was keep her patient calm and ride out the storm with her.
Sophie watched the ominous grey sky from the kitchen window as she tackled the mountain of dirty dishes in the sink. Molly’s fatigue and Jack’s inability to keep up with the household chores meant she had something to keep her busy, to stop her mind wandering into the worst-case scenario now they were completely cut off from the mainland. It would be scary enough for two women alone in the house with a storm raging outside and the possibility of losing power without her imagination making matters worse. Add a possible complicated birth into the mix and it was the stuff of nightmares. Sophie catastrophised most situations anyway so this one was in danger of making her brain explode.
A sudden crack of thunder sliced through her silent reverie to startle her, making the soapy plate in her hand slide quickly back into the suds. The sky lit up, lightning flashing behind the dark clouds, and her heart beat a little faster. She was not a fan of storms. Where some people were content to watch the drama unfold and marvel at the power of Mother Nature, Sophie could be found blocking plugholes, turning off electrical devices and unplugging everything in case lightning struck the house. Even a one in a million chance was enough for her to take precautions.
Goodness knew how Molly was sleeping through all of this, but she needed the rest. To her credit she had taken the news about Jack’s delayed return better than expected. Sophie supposed the couple were used to their lives being dictated by the weather, living on this remote island. She, on the other hand, had her days carefully mapped out and preferred to stick to her schedule. Despite the circumstances being beyond her control, it did not sit well with her having to phone and rearrange her other appointments. She didn’t like going into the unknown unprepared.
Another boom of thunder reverberated, closely followed by a flash of lightning illuminating the gloom. Sophie shuddered. If she had been at home she would be tucked up in bed with the curtains closed and the covers over her head so she couldn’t see or hear what was going on outside.
The next rumble seemed closer, louder than the last. She could still hear it when the world outside lit up again. Then Sophie realised the noise was coming from upstairs. Molly.
She placed the last dish into the rack, leaving the soapy water to drain away, and went to dry her hands.
‘I’m coming. Hold on, Molly.’ A tall order, she knew, if the baby was determined to make an early entrance after all.
By the time she got upstairs Molly was standing at the window, doubled over in pain. The sight was sufficient to snap Sophie back into her professional frame of mind. Labour and babies she knew how to deal with. Even when there were a few curve balls thrown in along the way.
‘Hold my hand and just breathe through the pain.’
‘That’s easier said than done,’ Molly managed to pant out through gritted teeth, grabbing hold of Sophie at the same time.
‘Is this your first contraction?’
Molly nodded.
‘Okay. It should subside soon and we’ll try and get you into bed before the next one comes.’ Sophie coached her breathing until the contraction subsided, her hand squeezed so tight she thought her circulation had been cut off at one point.
As soon as Molly was able to move again she helped her back into bed.
‘It’s too early. I need Jack here.’ For the first time since Sophie had arrived Molly had fear in her eyes. No matter what happened, it was her job to keep her patient calm and reassured that everything was going to be all right. Regardless if she was having a wobble in confidence herself. Out here Sophie only had the contents of her medical bag to handle an emergency. There was not nearly enough equipment to cover all eventualities.
‘He’ll be here as soon as he can. In the meantime you’ve got me and I’m going to make sure you and the baby have the best care I can give you. Now, let’s take a look and see how things are progressing.’ It would be best for all concerned if Molly was simply experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions, practice for the real thing. The baby would have a better chance all round if Molly made it past the thirty-six-week mark.
Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that this was the real deal. ‘Okay, Molly, you’re four centimetres dilated. There’s still a long way to go, but I would prefer to get you to a hospital as a precautionary measure since this is technically an early labour and because baby is facing the wrong way.’
The tears Molly had been so bravely trying to keep at bay now fell unchecked. She was afraid and, if Sophie was honest, she was too. They were so far out from the mainland that if there were any complications... Well, it didn’t bear thinking about.
‘But how? If there’s a storm coming no one can get to us without risking their own lives.’ Molly was scrambling to sit up again as panic took over, but Sophie needed her to remain calm if they were to have any hope of slowing this labour down.
‘I’ll put in a call for the emergency helicopter. I’m sure they can still get to us, and they’ll have more equipment on board to monitor you and the baby until we can get you to the hospital.’
Flying in a helicopter in a storm wasn’t something she would ever have contemplated if it weren’t for the benefit of her patient. Her parents would be proud. It was the sort of thing they would have done without a second thought for their safety. Certainly not for the young daughter they had left behind. Thankfully she had learned from her parents’ mistakes. If she had to get on that helicopter it would only be because it was a matter of her patient’s survival.
‘That’s it, Molly. You’re doing so well.’ Sophie wrung out the wet flannel into the basin on the night stand and placed it across Molly’s forehead.
‘I want Jack,’ she sobbed, understandably emotional as her labour progressed, undeterred by the less than desirable circumstances.
‘I know, sweetheart. I’m sure you will see him soon. For now we have to concentrate on getting you through these contractions.’ Labour had progressed quickly, and she was already six centimetres dilated. This baby was coming tonight, with or without outside assistance. For everyone’s sake, Sophie hoped she would not have to deliver this baby alone. It was not that she couldn’t do it, goodness knew she had delivered babies in all sorts of situations. Her training and experience had prepared her well, but with a premature birth there were more risks involved and she didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
‘This isn’t how it was supposed to be,’ Molly groaned as another contraction took hold.
‘I know it’s not the home birth you’d quite expected, but what a story you’ll have to tell. Choppered off the island to reunite with your husband is romantic in its own way.’ As long as the baby didn’t arrive before the helicopter and there were no life-threatening complications for mother or baby.
‘Does Jack know the baby’s coming?’
‘The line wasn’t great when I spoke to him again, but he knows and he’s going to meet us at the hospital.’ Only trouble being that she didn’t know how long the helicopter would take to get here, if at all.
Molly’s cries echoed through the cottage and there was nothing Sophie could give her to help her through the contractions. Even if she had been in hospital, her labour had advanced so rapidly there wouldn’t have been time to give her an epidural if she had wanted one. This was the worst part for her and her patients, both powerless until nature had taken its course.
‘This will all be worth it when you have that little baby in your arms,’ she said, brushing Molly’s damp hair away from her face. The stress, the pain and the whole labour often faded in the face of a brand-new life being brought into the world. For Sophie included.
Although she was still praying they would get to the hospital in time, it was looking more unlikely by the second with the closer contractions.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t relieved when she heard the noise of the helicopter over the house. Sophie couldn’t leave Molly when she was in the last stages of her labour, but she did rush to open the bedroom curtains to see what was going on. It did nothing to allay her fears. The chopper was battling against the wind, struggling to land. A line was thrown out, it too swinging from side to side. A figure in bright orange risked life and limb to traverse it and Sophie’s heart was in her mouth simply watching. At this stage she knew she was delivering this baby here and now and backup should have been a comfort. Instead, it gave her another life to fret over. In the end she turned away, unable to stomach witnessing the dangerous mission unfold.
It was only when she heard banging at the front door she was able to breathe again.
‘The door’s open. We’re up here,’ she shouted above the noise of the helicopter being buffeted about by the storm outside.
Whichever daredevil had been dispatched to assist her would have to do without a welcoming party as Molly panted frantically through her contractions.
‘Okay. So where are we?’ The heaven-sent paramedic had entered the room, but Sophie’s relief was short-lived as she recognised the face as well as the voice. Roman Callahan, the man who had broken her heart and who all other men had failed to live up to since.
He was still as handsome as ever, his black hair tousled in that sexy devil-may-care way and with a lean, muscular body to remind her he was not a teenage boy any more. Sophie made the decision not to introduce herself. If he didn’t recognise her she certainly wasn’t going to remind him who she was and how they had parted over a decade ago. Although after being best friends for years it would be surprising if he didn’t know her. That led her to conclude he was either trying to save her blushes or pretending not to know her to avoid rehashing the past. It was possible he also believed this birth was more important than their ancient history.
The last time she’d seen him was when they were eighteen, just before they’d gone their separate ways to university and she had made the impulsive decision to kiss him. That one rash decision to act on her teenage crush had ensured her best friend had walked out of her life ten years ago, never to be seen or heard from again. Until now.
Despite all the questions whirling around her mind about where he had been, what he had been doing and if he had ever thought about her, Sophie had to set her personal crisis aside to focus her attention on her patient. Since he hadn’t chosen to acknowledge her in any other way than a professional capacity, she chose to do the same. For now. When this was all over she might have one or two things to say to him. All that was required of her now where Roman Callahan was concerned was to ignore her fast beating heart reacting to seeing him again. If she had a spare moment she would be completely humiliated to see him again.
‘Ten centimetres dilated and the baby’s head is crowning,’ she told him after checking on Molly’s progress.
‘It looks as though you’ve managed on your own just fine, Soph. I don’t think you needed me at all.’ So he had recognised her after all. Even if it hadn’t led to the tearful reunion she’d often dreamed about when she’d thought of running in to him again.
‘Well, you’re here now and Molly and the baby will still have to get to hospital.’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw the flash of neon orange as her new colleague moved closer to the bed.
‘Hello, Molly. I’m Roman and I will be your paramedic escort for the evening.’ Apparently he was still the same flirt, the same joker he had always been. It might be reassuring for his patients, but not for an ex-friend who had spent the last ten years trying to get over him.
‘Roman, could you get me some of those towels from the dresser?’ If nothing else, he could make himself useful.
‘Sure. I’m here at your disposal.’ To his credit, he didn’t immediately attempt to take over the situation, despite her call for help. He appeared to respect her position and experience as a midwife even if she had lost his friendship so long ago.
‘When the next contraction comes, Molly, I need you to bear down and push this little one out. Okay?’ It shouldn’t be long now, and Sophie was reassured there was a chance of getting them to the hospital.
‘You’re doing really well.’ Although Roman was looking at Molly as he passed over the towels, Sophie had a feeling he was talking to her. Perhaps it was her subconscious seeking reassurance but sometimes even a trained professional needed a confidence boost.
She spread a towel under Molly and could tell immediately when her body tensed up that the time had come. Whilst she got ready to catch the baby, Roman moved to the head of the bed.
‘Time to push, Molly. I’m here and Roman’s here and we are going to help you both through this.’
‘Take my hand, swear at me, whatever it takes.’ He took Molly’s hand as she pushed through the contraction and Sophie watched Mother Nature take over, a new life slipping into her hands.
He was smaller than expected and Sophie moved quickly to cut and clamp the umbilical cord. She swaddled him in another of the towels and moved into the light where she could see him better.
‘I want to hold my baby,’ Molly cried, and Sophie had to ignore the swell of nausea in her stomach as she looked at the pale bundle in her arms. The baby still hadn’t made a sound and had some staining on his skin, indicating that meconium was present. Sometimes baby could have a bowel movement and excrete the sticky green substance into the amniotic fluid. If inhaled, causing meconium aspiration syndrome, it could lead to severe lung problems.
She began rubbing his back, praying with every breath in her body that they would soon hear his cries.
‘We just need to do some observation on the baby before you can hold him.’ Roman was doing his best to placate Molly but it would soon become apparent all was not well.
‘Come on, little one,’ Sophie urged quietly, hoping she could somehow bring him back to life.
She felt Roman’s presence beside her as she reached into the infant’s mouth to clear anything which might be preventing him from breathing. They exchanged a concerned glance, sharing that overwhelming desire for a miracle. There was some meconium in the baby’s mouth blocking his airway. Sophie took an aspirator from her bag and suctioned out the substance she could see.
‘Do you want me to try?’ Roman asked softly.
She was on the verge of agreeing and letting him take control, in the hope he could do what she could not, when there was a small ragged cry from the babe in her arms.
Their collective exhaled breath and the urge to weep signalled the relief that this might have a happy ending after all. When she looked into Roman’s all too familiar eyes she could tell he was as moved as she by the moment.
‘I think that’s his way of saying he has had enough fussing,’ she said, pulling herself together.
‘I’ll get him some oxygen to help with his breathing.’ Roman turned away to get the mask and pump from his bag, but Sophie didn’t miss the swipe of his hand across his eyes. It was typical of him to resist expressing his emotions. That at least hadn’t changed. He had always been difficult to read. She blamed him for letting her make a fool of herself, believing he loved her as much as she did him. Only to find out too late it had all been one-sided.
‘Is everything all right?’ Molly enquired.
‘Roman’s just going to give the baby some oxygen to help him breathe. He had some fluid in his airway, but I’ve cleared it. The hospital will do some X-rays to make sure there’s nothing left in his lungs and give him some antibiotics to prevent possible infection, but he looks fine.’ Sophie handed the now very vocal tot to Roman so she could attend to Molly to deliver the placenta and make sure she was fine to transfer to the helicopter.
She cast a glance over at Roman, who looked unexpectedly confident and content cradling a baby in his arms. It did little to help control her emotions when she’d spent much of her teens imagining this moment. Only with Roman cooing over their own child.
Throughout all the drama Roman had kept in touch with the helicopter crew and it was a relief when his walkie-talkie crackled to life with news that they had managed to set down outside.
‘That’s us, folks. Time to get moving.’ He was holding the baby in one arm whilst hoisting his medical bag onto his other shoulder.
‘Will...er... I have to fly too?’ She would do it if she had to but being in a tiny tin can being tossed around by a storm was not in keeping with her idea of playing it safe.
‘Not this time, sweetheart. I’m afraid we just don’t have room on board.’ The term of endearment casually tossed into the air had no less effect on her now than it had when she’d been younger. As a teenager she would have done anything to have him call her that in anything other than his usual teasing manner. It was easy to see with hindsight how a lovestruck girl could have mistaken his friendship for something she really wanted.
‘I’m sure you’ll give Molly and the baby the best possible care in my absence,’ she assured Molly, along with herself.
It was hard to hand over responsibility of one of her patients. He seemed a very competent paramedic, but she knew nothing about Roman Callahan any more. On the positive side, at least in the hospital they could give the baby any extra care he might need.
‘I’ll get Jack to bring you back as soon as the storm dies down.’ Molly eased herself up from the bed and Sophie helped her get dressed to protect her from the elements. Ideally, she would have some time to rest and recover so quickly after the birth but, as any mother, she was willing to set aside her discomfort for the sake of her newborn.
‘Don’t worry about me. It’ll be nice to have some time on my own here and I’ll get in touch with Clem in the morning. There’s plenty of cleaning-up to do. I’ll be fine.’ The lie would be worth it to prevent Molly from fretting any further.
She thought she caught a flicker of something in Roman’s eyes challenging her. It was possible he remembered her fear of the dark. A minor inconvenience in comparison to the things people like Roman, who put their lives on the line every day, did in the line of duty. At her age she really ought to have got over her childhood hang-ups, but that meant facing them head-on and she was the queen of procrastination when it came to dealing with her emotional baggage. Tonight, on her own on an island in a storm was going to be a real test of strength for her.
They transferred their patients into the waiting helicopter, ducking below the rotating blades. Once she was satisfied Molly and her son were secured by the crew, Sophie stepped back. Her hair whipped about her face when the helicopter began to lift up off the ground. It was already getting dark but the lights from the chopper lit up everything on the ground below as it took off, catching her in its spotlight.
Perhaps that was what prompted Roman to lean out for one last goodbye.
‘It was good to see you again, Sophie,’ he said, before the world around her was suddenly plunged back into darkness. Leaving her all alone for the second time in her life.
