Page 26 of Beyond Repair
Between them they managed to get her to her trailer. Once there she grabbed Sam’s hand in her vice-like grip when he attempted to leave, and he settled down beside her on the sofa.
Katie tried to get as much history from Dame Helen as possible despite her acute confusion, and examined her (which was a little tricky seeing as she refused to relinquish Sam’s hand or lie flat, but Katie did manage to establish that she was running a fever). Then, after much persuasion, Katie managed to extract Dame Helen from Sam and move her into the en-suite toilet. A painstaking battle with Dame Helen’s voluminous skirts ensued until Katie finally managed to get a sample of her urine. It was obvious just from the look of it that she had an infection, and the dipstick was positive for everything.
After Katie had managed to escape Dame Helen’s skirts and exit the small bathroom, Frank came bursting into the trailer holding out a phone. Helen’s daughter was on the line and Katie explained the situation to her and that she was going to treat her mum with antibiotics. Thankfully the daughter was only an hour away and said she would come straight down. Katie then started the process of cajoling Helen to take one of the antibiotic tablets she had for her in her bag, and gently getting her to drink some fluid and rest on the bed. Dame Helen swore at her a few times and continued to call her Lizzy. (Katie was beginning to feel a little sorry for the long-suffering Lizzy.)
Once Dame Helen had settled down in her own trailer, with a couple of lackeys deployed to watch over her, Katie rather felt that her work was done. She said goodbye to Dame Helen, gave Frank the instructions and medication for her, and spared Sam a very brief smile before shooting out of the trailer and making towards the car park. Head down, she barrelled through the trailers as fast as her heels would take her. But as she was rounding the corner of the last one, she crashed straight into a solid wall, teetered for a second, and then, to her horror, landed in the dirt on her backside with a loud ‘Oomph!’
Sam looked down at her and Katie narrowed her eyes at his mouth, convinced his lips were twitching. ‘Might be an idea to look where you’re going and take corners at less than warp speed in future,’ he offered, leaning down to pull her up onto her feet and dust her off like a small child.
Katie glared at him whilst struggling to take a breath after having the wind knocked out of her. ‘You …’ she started, then breathed deeply, smoothing down her skirt to calm her nerves, ‘you try walking in these boots and not look down whilst on treacherous terrain.’ He looked at her feet and then back up to her red face, the lip-twitching now verging on a smile.
‘Um, not sure this terrain is classified as “treacherous” but I guess it all depends on whose tackling it. What is it about you and footwear anyway? Don’t you own anything with a grip on it? And who comes to a beach in winter wearing high heels?’
‘Oh yes, yes,’ Katie said sarcastically. ‘Of course when I was dressing this morning I thought to myself: I must wear shoes ideal to tackle the Gower and grapple with a delirious old lady whilst avoiding the hooves of actual horses that scare the bejesus out of me. After all, that is my priority, above looking smart for my normal work and maybe adding a little height into the equation so that my patients take me seriously.’ At the word ‘bejesus’ and the reference to her height, Sam’s face went soft. He looked down at her feet and up again to her face and sighed.
‘Christ, what am I going to do with you?’ he asked.
‘Um … I suspect nothing,’ Katie returned, stepping to the side to get past him. ‘I think probably a return to the Avoid Katie Policy is in order – far simpler and less confusing.’
‘Yeah,’ he agreed, but moved with her to block her path, ‘that would be a good idea.’ She eyed him warily and stepped to the other side, and again he moved with her.
‘I’m trying to get around you,’ she informed him.
‘I know,’ he said, leaning in and raising his hand to touch her face.
‘Sam! Darling!’ Lydia’s shrill voice cut through the tension surrounding them and Katie jerked her face away, taking a step back and watching as irritation replaced the soft look on Sam’s face. ‘I’m thrilled you’re taking over the security detail around here. I must say I have had my concerns. Of course I have literallyhundredsof stalkers out there just waiting for the chance of even a glimpse of me.’
Katie looked over a shoulder and watched the tall blonde approach with fascination. Of course there was no way that woman would be the least bit unsteady in heels, whatever the state of the ground. She practically floated around Katie to approach a weirdly stiff-with-tension Sam, and slip her hand onto his arm. This time it was Sam’s turn to take a step back, shaking her off.
‘Oops,’ Lydia giggled. ‘Of course you’re right darling, we must maintain appearances on the set.’ She beamed at him and he looked down at his boots and rubbed the back of his neck.
‘Lydia,’ he said slowly, with what sounded like extreme patience. ‘I need to get on with my job, yeah?’
‘Of course, of course. Please don’t let little old me get in the way.’ She turned to Katie as if only just noticing her. ‘Oh hello, you’re the girl from the dinner party aren’t you? The one in the orange dress?’ Would Katie ever live that dress down? ‘Are you here for some work experience?’ Katie stiffened; this was not the first time she had been mistaken for a work-experience student. ‘If you’re here as a runner, I’m dying for a latte. My trailer is –’
‘For Christ’s sake, Lydia,’ Sam cut in, looking furious. ‘Katie is a doctor; remember? She’s not here to fetch you coffee.’
Lydia smiled, totally unrepentant. ‘Oh dear, I am sorry,’ she said insincerely. ‘I thought you were a teenager. I wondered why you were at that party. I just assumed you were somebody’s little sister or something. Silly me.’
Katie had heard Sarah tell Lydia that she was her best friend, so what that comment was trying to prove she had no idea. She took a deep breath and managed to force a smile at Lydia, muttering: ‘Don’t worry, happens all the time.’ Determined now to escape further humiliation, she darted around Sam and by some miracle managed to stay vertical, then shot off to her car, which was thankfully only a short distance away.
Once inside she breathed a sigh of relief and turned the key in the ignition. The car spluttered for a moment, then fell silent. ‘Bollocks,’ she muttered under her breath, eyeing the engine light on the dashboard, which, when she thought about it, had been flashing for a while now. She tried again with even less response and swore violently, banging her hands on the steering wheel, and then falling forward to rest her head on it. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the light being blocked from her window by a big body, and she sighed. Resigned to her fate, she pushed the button for the window, and Sam’s face came into view as he bent down to look at her dashboard.
‘Problem?’ he asked.
‘Well, yes, seeing as the bloody thing won’t start.’
‘Shouldn’t drive it with the engine light flashing anyway,’ he told her, then narrowed his eyes as her face flushed red and she bit her lip.
‘Um …’
‘Tell me you haven’t been driving this car with the engine light on.’
‘In my defence, the car has been absolutely fine and these lights are supposed to bewarninglights. Everyone knows you don’t have to mindlessly obey the warning lights. You’ve got like … um …’ Katie closed her eyes, trying to work out how long she had been driving with that light flashing. (If she was honest, she couldn’t really remember a time when it wasn’t.) ‘… well, I don’t know how long … but if the car is about to conk out then there should at least be some sort of reallyaggressivewarning light: you know, like the whole dashboard lighting up and the horn going or something.’
Sam was staring at her through the window. He looked as though he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or strangle her.
‘It is not safe for a woman to be driving around in an unsound vehicle, Katie. What if the engine had died on the motorway? What if you’d broken down somewhere dodgy and been attacked? What if –’
