Read Online Saving Nathaniel by Jillian Brookes-Ward - Free Book Online
Authors: Jillian Brookes-Ward
Ads: Link
fingers so tightly they were bone white.
She could see that a brush with his own mortality had disturbed him deeply and he was trying very hard to hide it. When she placed her small, warm hand over his, she felt them relax a little. Quietly she said, 'It's over now, you got through it and you're okay, but I think you should take it as a warning not to get so stressed in future.'
He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and slowly blew out a controlled exhalation. 'I hope to God it never happens again,' he said, adding, 'Thanks for your help.'
'I'm not going to say, 'It was a pleasure', because it wasn't. I was probably just as scared as you.'
He huffed. 'I doubt that.'
'No, probably not,' she agreed. 'Now drink your tea. It'll make you feel better.'
Later that afternoon she found him asleep in his chair, his feet up on the footstool and his newspaper across him like a paper blanket. She watched him as he slept. His hands, peacefully folded across his chest, rose and fell with the regular rhythm of his breathing and his face looked relaxed and calm, the lines and frowns of stress ironed out.
A Shakespearean quote flitted into her mind; Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care.
She reached out her hand and let it hover just an inch over his head, his hair brushing her fingers. She could touch him and feel him stir. She wanted to, but she didn't.
Chapter 8
Nat's panic attack had frightened him and he provisionally agreed he would try to cut down his workload and relax more. He didn't keep his word. When a major business opportunity in Ireland fell into his lap, he snapped it up.
'You come highly recommended, Mackie and I guarantee it'll be well worth your while,' his Irish contact told him.
It was a long way out of his usual remit and required a good deal of travel, but the lure of a large amount of hard cash at the end was too much to resist. Rather than decrease, his work and stress levels increased to nearly breaking point.
'You said you would slow down,' Megan said when she saw the small suitcase he carried. He obviously intended to be away longer than overnight.
'I will, I promise, as soon as I'm done.'
'And how long will that be?'
'I said, soon.'
'You said that last week.'
'Are you keeping tabs on me now?'
She hesitated, before saying, 'You don't look well, Nat.'
'I'm fine, stop worrying.'
'That's easier said than done.'
He sighed. 'Look, Meg, this deal…I know it's going to be tough, but it'll be worth it in the end. The commission could come in at about a hundred thousand.'
'That's very nice for you, I'm sure. But all the money in the world is no good if you're not around to enjoy it.'
'What do you mean by that?'
'The attack you had before, Nat, it was a warning, but you're not listening. Next time you might not be so lucky, it could be a coronary.'
He all but scoffed at her. 'There's not going to be a next time. I'm fine, now leave it.'
She opened her mouth to say more, only to be cut off before she got a word out.
'I said leave it! ' The sharpness of his tone told her she would be wasting her time arguing with him.
She shrugged shoulders. 'Okay, whatever you say. You obviously know what you're doing. It's nothing to do with me. I'm just the cleaner.' Seconds later she was in the laundry room and the door between them had been firmly closed.
She didn't say goodbye, he thought. She always says goodbye.
On his return three days later, Megan deliberately avoided any reference to the reason for his absence. He worked on furiously, spending hours on the telephone and internet, seemingly oblivious to anything but the work. He rarely left his study. Trays of food were returned untouched, and he only slept when he was too tired to stay awake. Megan also noted with consternation, how much more he was drinking.
One morning, concerned at not having seen him for more than thirty-six hours, she entered the study and found him asleep at his desk, having been overcome with
She could see that a brush with his own mortality had disturbed him deeply and he was trying very hard to hide it. When she placed her small, warm hand over his, she felt them relax a little. Quietly she said, 'It's over now, you got through it and you're okay, but I think you should take it as a warning not to get so stressed in future.'
He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and slowly blew out a controlled exhalation. 'I hope to God it never happens again,' he said, adding, 'Thanks for your help.'
'I'm not going to say, 'It was a pleasure', because it wasn't. I was probably just as scared as you.'
He huffed. 'I doubt that.'
'No, probably not,' she agreed. 'Now drink your tea. It'll make you feel better.'
Later that afternoon she found him asleep in his chair, his feet up on the footstool and his newspaper across him like a paper blanket. She watched him as he slept. His hands, peacefully folded across his chest, rose and fell with the regular rhythm of his breathing and his face looked relaxed and calm, the lines and frowns of stress ironed out.
A Shakespearean quote flitted into her mind; Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care.
She reached out her hand and let it hover just an inch over his head, his hair brushing her fingers. She could touch him and feel him stir. She wanted to, but she didn't.
Chapter 8
Nat's panic attack had frightened him and he provisionally agreed he would try to cut down his workload and relax more. He didn't keep his word. When a major business opportunity in Ireland fell into his lap, he snapped it up.
'You come highly recommended, Mackie and I guarantee it'll be well worth your while,' his Irish contact told him.
It was a long way out of his usual remit and required a good deal of travel, but the lure of a large amount of hard cash at the end was too much to resist. Rather than decrease, his work and stress levels increased to nearly breaking point.
'You said you would slow down,' Megan said when she saw the small suitcase he carried. He obviously intended to be away longer than overnight.
'I will, I promise, as soon as I'm done.'
'And how long will that be?'
'I said, soon.'
'You said that last week.'
'Are you keeping tabs on me now?'
She hesitated, before saying, 'You don't look well, Nat.'
'I'm fine, stop worrying.'
'That's easier said than done.'
He sighed. 'Look, Meg, this deal…I know it's going to be tough, but it'll be worth it in the end. The commission could come in at about a hundred thousand.'
'That's very nice for you, I'm sure. But all the money in the world is no good if you're not around to enjoy it.'
'What do you mean by that?'
'The attack you had before, Nat, it was a warning, but you're not listening. Next time you might not be so lucky, it could be a coronary.'
He all but scoffed at her. 'There's not going to be a next time. I'm fine, now leave it.'
She opened her mouth to say more, only to be cut off before she got a word out.
'I said leave it! ' The sharpness of his tone told her she would be wasting her time arguing with him.
She shrugged shoulders. 'Okay, whatever you say. You obviously know what you're doing. It's nothing to do with me. I'm just the cleaner.' Seconds later she was in the laundry room and the door between them had been firmly closed.
She didn't say goodbye, he thought. She always says goodbye.
On his return three days later, Megan deliberately avoided any reference to the reason for his absence. He worked on furiously, spending hours on the telephone and internet, seemingly oblivious to anything but the work. He rarely left his study. Trays of food were returned untouched, and he only slept when he was too tired to stay awake. Megan also noted with consternation, how much more he was drinking.
One morning, concerned at not having seen him for more than thirty-six hours, she entered the study and found him asleep at his desk, having been overcome with
Similar Books
