Free No Kiss Goodbye by Janelle Harris Page B

can’t tell if his frustration is directed towards me or the doctor.
    ‘I said I want to go home,’ I repeat.
    ‘We heard you, Laura. But you need to listen to Doctor Hammond. What do you remember from last night?’ Mark’s voice crackles when he speaks.
    ‘Nothing,’ I reply honestly. ‘We went to bed shortly before eleven, and I woke this morning when your alarm went off.’
    Mark’s face falls into his hands. Clearly, that isn’t the answer he is looking for, but I’m certain it’s the truth.
    ‘You are telling me that you didn’t make a very nasty and suggestive phone call to Nicole?’ Doctor Hammond interrupts. 
    He had a strange persistence in his voice. He was supposed to be helping me cope with the stress of losing the use of my legs, but at that moment, he could easily have been mistaken for a lead detective probing a suspect for information. 
    ‘I’m not telling you anything. I’m speaking to my husband. Mark, baby, you know me. I didn’t make any call.’
    I look deep into Mark’s grey-blue eyes. ‘I didn’t call her.’
    ‘But you did call me, Laura. How can you sit there and deny it?’ Nicole whispers, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.
    Mark leans forward in his chair and places his arm around her heaving shoulders. Damn, she’s good. It’s a bloody Oscar-worthy performance. The lying bitch has my husband eating out of the palm of her hand.
    ‘Why can’t you see she is making this up?’ I plead. ‘Mark, why do you believe her and not me?’
    ‘Because the proof is on this,’ he says, slamming my phone so hard onto the desk the back cover falls off.
    Fat, salty tears trickle down my face, but Nicole offers some stiff competition. She wails like a little-lost orphan. Doctor Hammond pulls some tissue from the dispenser on the windowsill and offers it to us both.
    I try tirelessly to profess my innocence, but I’m fighting a losing battle. They had their minds made up before I even came into the room, and no one is on my side.
    Finally, completely exhausted and the ability to argue any further lost, I fling a snotty apology at Nicole. I snatch the prescription for sleeping pills that I have no intention of filling from Doctor Hammond’s hand and stuff it angrily into my handbag. Completely humiliated, I beg Mark to take me home.
    Nicole beams brightly; she doesn’t even try to hide her satisfaction. My husband and my doctor now suspect I’m less than sane and Nicole is gaining an even greater hold over Mark and my children. The woman is dangerous, and I’m the only one who can see it.

Chapter Ten
     
    It’s almost a week before I leave the house again, and when I do, I’m hyper aware of my body twitching as we drive slowly through the heavy, evening traffic on our way to Knightsbridge hotel.
    I stare out the window and ignore my phone vibrating in my lap.
    ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ Mark asks, taking his eyes off the road to watch me.
    ‘No.’
    ‘It could be important.’
    I ignore both Mark and my ringing phone and continue to look out the window.
    I recognise the number. It’s the chairperson of the Gala Ball Committee. The same person who contacted me three days ago to advise me that the ball’s chosen charity this year is the Irish Wheelchair Association. She politely asked me to be the guest speaker for the evening. I suppose she figured it would be politically correct to have the token cripple on stage. I declined, of course, certain I would be admired less as a speaker and more as an exhibit.
    Mark was livid. He begged me to get involved, but I point-blank refused. He said he needed the publicity because it would be very good for his business. If people knew how hard things were for us at home, then they would buy their DIY stuff from Mark’s hardware shop instead of the chain store down the street.
    I spent almost three hours getting ready for the ball, but as I scrutinise every inch of my face in the badly lit mirror of the sun visor, I