A Mother for His Little Princess
Auteur·e
Karin Baine
Lectures
16,4K
Chapitres
10
CHAPTER ONE
‘I THOUGHT I was the princess in the family,’ Isolde Yarrow teased her sister over their video call.
She’d taken the opportunity between her physiotherapy patients to phone Soraya and see how the wedding preparations were going. In just a few weeks Soraya was going to be marrying Raed Ayad, Crown Prince of Zaki, an island in the Persian Gulf, to become royalty herself.
It was a long way from the life they’d had growing up when Soraya had worked hard to put food on the table for them both after their parents died, and Isolde was thrilled that her big sis finally had someone to look out for her for a change. Though it didn’t mean she wasn’t missing her now that she’d moved halfway across the world to take up her new role in the royal family.
‘You will always be my little princess, Isolde, though I’m not sure it’s a role I’ll ever get used to.’ Soraya sighed but Isolde could hear the happiness in her voice.
‘I’m sure you’ll get used to a life of luxury and people waiting on you hand and foot,’ she joked, though her sister deserved every second of it after the sacrifices she’d made for her over the years.
‘I admit, there are plenty of perks, but we’re certainly not letting the grass grow under our feet. We mightn’t be able to work in the health service any more, but we’re still trying to make a difference. I can’t wait until you come over and see all of the charity projects we’re working on.’
It was a complete change of lifestyle for her sister, moving abroad to marry a prince, and leaving her career as a cardiac surgeon behind, but Isolde knew she wouldn’t have done it unless she loved Raed very much. Something that was entirely reciprocated. Isolde had seen for herself how quickly they’d fallen in love, even though it was supposed to have been a fake romance to divert attention away from the King’s ill health at the time.
Raed was a vast improvement on Soraya’s ex-husband, Frank, who had taken advantage of her kind nature, cheating on her and running up huge debt, which had led to her sleeping in Isolde’s spare room for months after the divorce. Isolde too had been going through a break-up at the time, which had left her sceptical about the whole idea of romance. But Soraya and Raed were now making her question that vow she’d made not to get involved with another man again, given how happy they were together. Though she doubted she’d dip her toes into the commitment pool ever again.
When Isolde was just ten years old, Soraya eighteen, their father had died of lung cancer. Followed less than a year later by their mother. Years of heavy smoking and working in smoky clubs had taken its toll and left Soraya to take care of everything and everyone. Seeing the burden of responsibility left upon her sibling’s shoulders, Isolde had decided life was for living. She wasn’t going to get tied down with no life to call her own. Instead she’d drifted from one job to another, sofa-surfed, and made sure never to get bogged down in a serious relationship. Then Olly had come into her life and she’d lost all sense when it came to her heart, and the very definition of who she was.
She’d fallen hard for the earnest schoolteacher. He’d convinced her to get some qualifications so she had a better career path than waitressing and bartending, and she’d trained as a physiotherapist and got a full time position at the London Central Hospital, where she’d been working for the last three years. The same hospital Soraya had transferred to when her marriage had fallen apart and she’d wanted a new start.
Isolde’s life with Olly had been comfortable, but he’d had to go and spoil it all by talking about the future. Marriage hadn’t seemed like a huge step forward when they’d already been living together for so long, but the family bombshell had proved too much for their relationship. Too much of an ask for Isolde.
He’d wanted children, expected her to put her new career on hold to have babies. It had seemed to her in that moment that she was the one being expected to make all the compromises in the relationship, and having a family she didn’t want wasn’t going to be good for anyone. Not least the innocent lives Olly wanted to bring into the world. She’d seen the toll it had taken on Soraya raising a family she hadn’t been fully prepared for and didn’t want that life for herself.
In the end neither she nor Olly had wanted to back down, and, with very different ideas of how their future should be, they’d parted ways. Isolde hadn’t had the heart to even date since, but she was pleased that Soraya had seemingly found her happy ever after with a handsome prince. Although if she was allowed to have a selfish moan about the situation it would be that she’d been left on her own since her housemate had moved out. She should be enjoying having her own space again, but this was the first time in her life she didn’t have her sister around to support her. It was going to take some getting used to.
‘I’m counting the days, sis.’ Literally. Isolde had been crossing off the days until the wedding on her calendar until she could see her sister again.
‘Amir and Farah will be coming too. Oh, it seems so long since we saw everyone. I’m as excited about your visit as the wedding.’ Soraya laughed, and Isolde’s heart ached a little more. She longed to be with her having fun and putting the world to rights over cocktails and dinner, but she couldn’t tell her and put a dampener on her mood. It was about time Soraya had some happiness for herself and Isolde wouldn’t do anything to spoil that for her.
‘I’m just about to catch up with him. I’ve got an appointment with one of his patients.’ Amir, Raed’s younger brother, was a thoracic surgeon in the hospital so their paths crossed often. More so this last year since she’d started treating his daughter, nine-year-old Farah, who’d suffered a spinal injury in the car crash that had also taken her mother away from her.
Now Amir and Isolde’s siblings were getting married, and they had no other family here in England with them, they’d been seeing a lot of one another. In a strictly professional capacity only, of course.
‘Say hello from us, and we’ll see you all soon.’ Soraya blew a kiss and waved goodbye.
‘Love you, sis.’ Isolde swallowed down the lump in her throat before she made a fool of herself in the middle of the rehab unit, or, worse, upset any of her patients by bursting into tears. Instead she plastered on a smile and gave a thumbs up pretending she didn’t feel completely lost without her big sister who had always been there, protecting her, and supporting her financially and emotionally over the years. It was time she grew up and stood on her own two feet and there was nothing to be gained from upsetting Soraya when she was enjoying her new life.
Isolde took a deep breath and tried to compose herself, only for the feel of someone’s hand on her back to make her jump.
‘What the hell—?’ She turned around sharply to see who had invaded her personal space and found tall, dark and handsome Amir standing there with his hands in the air as though waiting for the firing squad to take aim.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve been calling out to you the whole way since I saw you walk through Reception, but I think you were on the phone.’
‘Yeah, I was talking to Soraya, sorry. She said to say hi, by the way.’ Isolde offered him a smile, and though Amir smiled back, she recognised the pain behind it. ‘Have you spoken to Raed?’
Amir shook his head. ‘Not recently. I know he’s busy with the wedding.’
Not so long ago Raed had rebelled against the idea of returning to Zaki to take up his rightful position as heir to the throne. He’d been ready to step aside in favour of Amir taking over but circumstances had changed everything. The car accident and their father’s heart problems some months later had meant Raed had to be the face of the monarchy so the country didn’t fall apart in the King’s absence. Taken ill while visiting in London, their father had had to have his heart bypass and post-op rehab there before he was fit enough to return home. Soraya had been Raed’s fake fiancée, giving the media a cover story to detract from what was really going on with the family. Except they’d fallen for each other and started a new life in Zaki in their royal roles.
It seemed Raed and Soraya had moved on quickly from the lives they’d had back in England for better things, but it wasn’t so easy for those of them left behind who didn’t have royal roles and a luxurious lifestyle to fill the void of missing family members. Amir’s parents had returned home once his father had recovered from his heart bypass, so he no longer had anyone supporting him here in the midst of his grief and Farah’s struggle to walk again.
Her incomplete spinal injury had caused some paralysis through her body and, though she had recovered movement in her upper body and no longer had breathing difficulties, she couldn’t walk. She’d had surgery to reduce muscle inflammation and swelling, and muscle control came and went in her lower limbs, but her mobility remained limited.
It had been over a year now since Amir had lost his wife and Farah’s mother. Isolde knew something about that kind of loss. Except she’d had Soraya to pick up the pieces and put her back together again. Amir’s family were at a distance, no longer part of his daily existence and she knew how difficult that was when she’d relied on Soraya her entire life. It was like another bereavement of sorts, mourning that tangible support and having to move on without it.
‘Soraya said they’ve been setting up all sorts of charity initiatives too. No doubt we’ll find out all about it when we’re over for the wedding. I’m sure Farah is excited about being a bridesmaid.’ Isolde was trying to put a positive spin on it all, regardless of feeling as heartbroken as Amir looked.
‘She’s more worried than anything. It’s going to put a spotlight on her, and with being in the wheelchair...she’s not looking forward to all of the attention. I know Raed and Soraya have fostered a good relationship with the media because of the charity work and public engagements they’re carrying out, but I’m not sure I want to be part of that with Farah the way she is.’ It was apparent in the set of Amir’s jaw and the frown furrowing his forehead that it was weighing heavily on his mind too. No doubt he was caught between doing what was right for his daughter and his family.
‘I understand your concerns. She’ll have all of us to look after her though, and if she wants we can put some extra time in together on her exercises, or go dress shopping, or bling out her wheelchair. Whatever would make her more comfortable on the day.’ Isolde was sure that in all of the excitement Soraya and Raed had overlooked the fact his niece might be wary of her very public appearance when she was still struggling to come to terms with her life-changing injuries. She would talk to Soraya later and convey any concerns Amir and Farah had about the event and her place in the wedding party. At least she’d managed to make him smile with the idea of pimping out Farah’s ride for the big day.
‘She’d probably like that.’
It was nice to see Amir relax a little. He was always so tense, concerned with everyone else’s welfare. If it wasn’t his daughter he was fretting over, it was his patients. Although he’d been through a lot in recent times, Isolde wondered if he ever let loose once in a while.
‘I’m going to work on some strengthening exercises with your pneumonia patient now, but I’ll call in on Farah later if you’re about?’
‘Mr Douglas? I’m heading that way myself. I just wanted to check on his chest drain, if you don’t mind me crashing in on your physio session?’
‘Not at all. It’ll be good to have you on hand in case he needs any extra pain relief.’
‘Why, are you planning on torturing him today?’ Amir asked with a twinkle of mischief glinting in his chocolate-brown eyes.
‘No, I did that yesterday,’ Isolde answered with just as much sass. ‘However, I will be pushing him to get as mobile as possible to fast-track his recovery so we need to make sure his analgesia is adequate to compensate for the effort.’
In low-risk patients who hadn’t encountered any complications it was necessary to mobilise them after thoracic surgery, not only to strengthen the limbs, but to prevent any circulatory problems from occurring. Mr Douglas, who’d been admitted for surgery after pneumonia had caused a build-up of fluid on the lungs and breathing difficulties, should only need three or four days of physiotherapy before he was able to return home. If he followed Isolde’s instruction.
‘I will be on hand if he needs anything extra and I’ll check his heart rate and blood pressure before he undertakes any exercise.’
Isolde knew with post-operative patients it was necessary to keep an eye on them at all stages of their sessions when complications could arise at any second and she was glad Amir took such a keen interest in his patients’ welfare.
Just before they approached the man’s bedside Amir touched her arm and said, ‘I know how important physiotherapy is to my patients’ recovery. Thank you for everything you do.’
And just like that, he walked away, leaving Isolde speechless. There were few surgeons who took time to acknowledge her part in the team that worked with the patients long after the surgery was over. She counted herself lucky to work with someone so generous, as well as skilled. All of his patients only ever had good things to say about him, checking in with them as he did until they were discharged from the hospital. It was just a shame such a good man had had truly awful things happen to him in his personal life.
‘Mr Douglas, how are we today?’ Amir asked, checking the chart hanging on the end of the bed.
‘Good, Doctor. A little sore.’
‘That’s to be expected but I can increase the pain relief if you’re too uncomfortable. Ms Yarrow is here for your physiotherapy session but I thought I’d check in on you too.’ Amir stood aside to let Isolde do her job and she appreciated that he deferred to her so easily. Ego was not a problem around him, even though as a successful surgeon, and a prince, he would have every right to act superior.
‘Hello, Mr Douglas. We’re just going to move you into the chair to do a few exercises to start off with today. If you’re in any pain at all let us know. Mr Ayad, could you help me move Mr Douglas off the bed?’ Although she was capable of transferring patients herself, it would be churlish not to take advantage of an extra pair of hands where she could. Like Amir, she wasn’t too proud to ask for help, or appreciate it when it was given.
‘Of course.’ He came around to the side of the bed and helped to position the patient so his feet were hanging over the edge.
Thoracic surgery was known to be painful and in this instance Amir would have had to go through the chest to evacuate the infection, leaving chest tubes in place to drain the fluid collected around the lungs. She had to be careful when assisting Mr Douglas out of bed to support the incision and drain sites with firm but gentle pressure, avoiding direct pressure on the areas. With one hand on the front of his chest, the other at the back, and her forearms stabilising the entire chest as much as possible, she worked with Amir to move him over onto the chair.
‘Okay?’ she asked the patient, while nodding her thanks to Amir for his assistance.
‘Yes,’ Mr Douglas confirmed, a little breathless, like herself.
‘We’re just going to take five minutes to do a few exercises to minimise any circulatory problems and prevent any restrictions in your chest. With your hands behind your neck I want you to move your head back, slowly extending your spine and using the back of the chair for support.’ She sat on the edge of the bed and demonstrated the movement.
Mr Douglas slowly copied the action without too much trouble.
‘Good. I need you to do that five times.’
She watched him carefully as he repeated the motion.
‘That’s it. Now if you can fold your arms across your chest and turn slowly as if you’re looking one way, then another, that would be great. We’ll repeat that five times too. And then if you can put your hands behind your neck again for me, we’re going to bend the trunk carefully from side to side.’ She watched as the man followed her instructions wincing every now and then but generally without complaint.
Amir sat quietly to one side observing as she followed with a few leg and arm exercises and she knew if there was any discomfort he would’ve jumped in to offer his assistance. Although it was a tad intimidating to have the surgeon watching her work, it was also reassuring that he had an interest in her work and was there should she need him. Thankfully, other than helping get Mr Douglas get back into bed again, she didn’t.
‘You get some sleep now. I think you deserve it,’ Amir counselled as they prepared to leave.
‘I’ll be back again tomorrow and we’ll see about getting you on your feet for a little walk about.’ Isolde knew this was only the beginning of his recovery and wanted him to be prepared.
‘No rest for the wicked,’ Mr Douglas joshed as he laid his head back on the pillow. He was snoring before Isolde and Amir had even left the ward.
‘How on earth do you manage moving these patients on your own?’ Amir queried as they walked out into the corridor.
‘With these.’ Isolde flexed her biceps, drawing a rarely heard laugh from the surgeon. ‘And a lot of patience.’
‘It’s a more physically demanding job than I realised.’
‘Sometimes. It just depends on the patient and the circumstances. I have a good mix. I’m off now to work with a young amputee who is very feisty and independent. I’ll probably have my work cut out trying to get him to let me help with anything.’
‘You work very hard. I’m finished for the day but why don’t you come by the house later? Maybe we can get some takeaway. I know Farah would enjoy the company. I think evenings with her dad in front of the television have lost the novelty appeal and she doesn’t have many friends who want to come over much any more. I think they’re having trouble adjusting to her new circumstances too.’
‘That’s awful. I’d love to come over and see her, but don’t you think that’s blurring the lines a little bit? I mean, we’re colleagues, Farah’s my patient...’ Isolde knew there was nothing more in the invitation than providing his daughter with some female company to lift her spirits, with some dinner thrown in, but she didn’t want either of them to get into trouble at work.
Amir screwed up his nose. ‘We’re going to be family soon anyway. I think lines have been blurred for a long time. Officially you probably won’t be treating Farah much longer, and I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. But, if you’d rather not I understand.’
‘It’s fine. We’ll work something out. I’m not one for rules anyway. I’ll see you at eight. Text me your address,’ she shouted behind her as she made her way onto the ward.
He was right, theirs was a complicated situation now because of their siblings’ relationship, but Isolde didn’t see the harm in spending time with Amir and Farah on a personal level. They were going to be family soon enough and neither she nor Amir were likely to confuse a takeaway at his house for anything romantic.
Amir believed Isolde when she said they would work something out. They had to. Farah was his world and he would give anything to make her happy again. It was his fault she’d lost her mother, and that she was confined to a wheelchair, so the least he could do was find a way to make her comfortable.
He was happy that his brother and Soraya had found love and were getting married, though it hadn’t worked out so well for him. After spending a lifetime growing up in his brother’s shadow, trying to prove that he was worthy of his position in the family to his parents too, Amir had done his best to be the perfect son. He’d studied hard, carved out a successful career, and when Raed had decided he no longer wanted to be next in line to the throne, he’d been ready to step up, willing to take on that responsibility.
Even his marriage had been a way to show his parents he was more than just the second son, the back-up plan for the real Crown Prince. He’d married the right woman from the right family, making them a true Zaki power couple. Shula’s parents, wealthy aristocrats who had strong government connections, had encouraged the match, as had Amir’s family. And, once Farah had come along, they had seemed like the perfect little family.
Except nothing he’d ever done had seemed to be good enough for his wife. It was only now that she was gone he could admit love had never been a strong factor in their marriage. A good match on paper keeping their respective families happy, perhaps, but in the end it hadn’t been sufficient to sustain a long-lasting relationship. Until eventually Shula had told him she didn’t love him and wanted a divorce so she was free to pursue other men in the hope of finding what Amir apparently couldn’t give her. They’d rowed because he hadn’t been able to face giving up on his marriage and admitting defeat to the world at not being able to make his wife happy. He’d wanted counselling, another chance to prove himself, but Shula hadn’t and had left home in a frustrated rage.
That was the night she’d had the car accident and he’d been holding onto the guilt ever since. No one knew their marriage had been all but over. Everyone saw him as the grieving husband who’d lost the love of his life. Yes, it was still a great loss, but she’d hurt him, made it clear he’d lost her already that night. He was too embarrassed, too proud, too protective of his daughter to make that information public knowledge. So he’d kept the secret to himself, swallowed down the primal urge to scream every time someone offered their sympathy and added it to the burden of guilt he carried knowing he’d failed as a husband and father. If it took the rest of his life he would try his best to make it up to Farah.
If she wasn’t comfortable being part of the royal wedding, it was up to him to find a way to help her, or remove her from the equation altogether if she didn’t want to be involved. He didn’t blame her. In today’s society any difference in abilities was often picked apart in the press and social media and he wouldn’t subject his daughter to that if he could help it. Especially when she was already experiencing some alienation from her young friends. It was only natural, he supposed, that with all of her appointments and time spent at the hospital she would get left behind, not being involved in the usual social activities of nine-year-old girls. However, he did hope that some day she would catch up and be that happy, fun-loving little girl he knew and loved again.
The doorbell sounded throughout the house and Amir’s stomach did a half-flip. It was silly really. He knew it was Isolde and she was only here because he’d invited her, but she would be the only woman who’d set foot in the house since his wife died. The only reason he’d felt comfortable enough asking her over, apart from Farah needing her help, was the knowledge she wasn’t likely to misinterpret this get-together as anything romantic. They were practically family and she was a part of their lives because of her close bond working with Farah. Today he’d seen first-hand how hard she worked and knew, now that her sister had moved away, she’d be returning to an empty house. He’d only thought to offer company to her, as well as himself.
So why was his pulse racing and a cold sweat breaking out on his top lip as though he were on a first date?
‘Papa, aren’t you going to open the door?’ Farah appeared at his side looking up at him with a mixture of confusion and irritation. He knew she’d been looking forward to this since he’d told her they’d be having Isolde’s company tonight.
Amir blinked, realising he’d been staring at the door as though he were about to walk into the lion’s den, and finally moved to open it.
‘Grab these quick before I drop them,’ Isolde commanded, her blonde head bobbing up from behind a small stack of pizza boxes as she thrust them forward.
Amir’s quick reflexes kicked into action and he managed to take hold of her burden before they toppled to the floor.
‘Thanks,’ she said, stumbling through the door carrying takeout bags in both hands. ‘I didn’t know what you liked so I got a selection. There’s pizza, chicken wings and fries.’
‘I thought we were just going to order in. I didn’t expect you to bring dinner with you.’ He’d planned on treating her, having something special delivered to the door, since she was a guest. This display of generosity was unexpected.
Isolde closed the door and paused in the hallway. ‘No offence, Amir, but I imagined your idea of fast food was some raw sushi couriered over from a top-class restaurant. I’m more a greasy pepperoni kind of girl. Now, where’s the kitchen?’
‘Through here.’ Farah’s face lit up the minute she saw her friend and she quickly spun her wheelchair around so Isolde could follow her.
‘I hope you like pizza, Farah. I got barbecue chicken, pepperoni and a tomato and cheese just in case.’ Isolde shook off her coat one arm at a time as she walked through the house and casually hung it on the back of a chair in the kitchen, making herself at home.
‘I’ve never tried it.’ Farah’s eyes were as wide as the pizza boxes that he slid onto the kitchen worktop as if she were about to discover some long-lost treasure.
Isolde fixed him with her piercing blue eyes and pursed her lips. ‘Amir Ayad, how have you denied your daughter the greatest-tasting junk food for all this time?’
What could he do but smile and shrug as she unboxed the doughy delights?
As Isolde set to work plating the rest of their meal while he poured out the fizzy drinks she’d brought it occurred to him that she fitted so easily into their life she’d really been a blessing. Especially since his parents had returned home after Soraya and Raed, leaving him and Farah on their own in England. Although his father had recovered well, he was taking more of a back seat these days when it came to public engagements, with Raed and Soraya picking up the slack. He couldn’t help but feel left out. Especially when he was the one who had been preparing to take over when the time came. Although he didn’t need the extra pressure or stress at the minute, it seemed like another area that he’d failed in by not being able to fulfil his royal duties.
Isolde took a bite out of her pepperoni slice and smiled at him, seemingly unfazed by the barbecue sauce smeared around her mouth. There were no airs and graces with her, and Amir didn’t feel as though he had to be on his best behaviour when he was around her. It was probably the most comfortable he’d ever been with another person other than Farah.
It was then Amir knew he’d made a big mistake inviting her into their home.
