mixed up, jumbled and nonsensical. She would be absolutely no use to him at all if she didn't get her head together. With that thought held firmly in the forefront of her mind she decided to set the tone of the trip herself. Tell him she knew this was purely business.
“When we land are we going straight to the hospital?”
“No. I thought we’d get an early night, and then go to see him in the morning. So far he has no idea I’m invading the business meeting.”
“How do you think he will take it?”
“Hard to say. I spoke with my aunt at some length, she agrees it’s the right thing to do. But she’s not going to tell him, he had some tests this afternoon, and she didn’t want him upset before those. She’s worried about him though, apparently he’s not eating. He blames the food, but my aunt says it’s more than that.”
“I’m sorry. This couldn't have come at a worse time for him, with the Clarkson deal and everything.”
“He’s a busy man, no time would be a good time. But I do feel sorry for my aunt. This trip was supposed to be a complete getaway for them, swapping the damp grey weather of London in the spring for the sunshine and glamour of Monte Carlo.”
“I guess the last thing they expected was to end up spending it in a hospital.”
“I always thought the old man was as strong as an ox, he’s certainly as stubborn as one.”
“Is that a trait that runs in the family?”
“Stubbornness?”
“Yes, you said your mom wouldn’t accept help. And you seem determined to succeed. That must take a certain amount of stubbornness.”
“I prefer to call it determination.”
“What about your father? Do you have any of his traits? Or do you prefer not to talk about it?” She knew she shouldn’t be prying into his private life.
“No, it’s OK. It’s nice to have someone to talk to who understand it a little. My mom never spoke of him, so I have no idea.”
“Did you ever think of tracing him?”
“No. Well ... when my brother got sick I did. It was a combination of wanting him to face up to his responsibilities, and also to know if his family history could shed any light on things.”
“Is your brother’s health bad?”
“No. Not now, it’s manageable.” He turned off, heading to where he would leave his car. It was only then she realised they were going on a private jet.
“We’re not leaving via Heathrow?”
“No. It’s too busy. My jet is ready and waiting for us here. We’ll be in the air in a couple of minutes.”
“You really do live in a different world don't you?”
“Doesn’t mean it’s a better world.”
Before she had a chance to ask him what he meant they were greeted by polite staff who ushered them through the London City Airport. No queuing, they walked straight through security, where Helen held her passport with a visibly shaking hand, and straight into a car to take them to the plane.
It looked so small, next to the big jets she had flown on before, but when she stepped inside, it really did feel like a different, alien world.
They were quickly seated and in the air, and a drink was in her hand before her stomach had caught up with the rest of her. Oliver sat sipping his drink, an amused expression on his face. “Not what you were expecting?”
“No. I thought we’d have to wait for hours in the airport.”
“Are you disappointed?”
“About what?”
“Not having to spend hours in my company.”
“I ... I’m not sure who I’m supposed to answer that.”
“Neither am I, Helen.”
They fell into an all enveloping silence. She took a gulp of her drink, and looked out of the window at the disappearing London skyline while the plane climbed smoothly into the air. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a moment to appreciate the life he lived. But he was right, she wouldn’t give up the struggle of her own life, of her family, to be a jet setter like Oliver.
“Shall we get to work?” she asked, breaking the silence, and
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