The Last Night in London Karen White (books for students to read txt) 📖

him if he’s not up to reading himself yet.” Eva hesitated before pulling the ivory dolphin from her pocket. “I want you to take good care of this and bring it back. Do you understand? Let Graham know that you have it, that it will be his good-luck charm until he gets better. And tell him . . .” Her composure slipped, but just for a moment. She smiled brightly. “Tell him that I will expect him to return it to me personally when he’s back in London.”

Precious started crying again, and Eva wanted to shake her, to let her know that tears were worthless. “I’ll take good care of him for you,” Precious said. “I promise. I’ll make sure he returns to you. He does love you, Eva. I know he does.”

Eva forced a reassuring smile. “Just make sure he gets better and bring him back to me.”

Precious nodded once, then slid into the car next to David. Eva turned her back on the departing car, remembering what Precious had told her, how you should never watch a person leave because then you’d never see them again. She climbed the steps without turning around, but stood waiting at the front doors until the sound of the car’s engine had been absorbed by the thrum of the morning traffic.

CHAPTER 29

LONDON

MAY 2019

I sat next to Colin and his parents in the well-appointed waiting room at Princess Grace Hospital in Marylebone. It was a strangely soothing room with tasteful furniture and an appealing lack of clown paintings and other medical office art on the quiet silver-gray walls. The absence of cracked orange vinyl chairs and linoleum tiles made it easier to pretend that I wasn’t in a hospital. If it weren’t for the worried faces of Colin and his parents, I could have easily imagined I was anywhere else.

Arabella had called for the ambulance after Precious collapsed. She had been breathing, and conscious, but not entirely lucid when they’d placed her in the ambulance. I kept asking every medical professional we encountered if she would be okay, the reality that she might die hitting me with a force I hadn’t expected. I knew she was old, and I couldn’t completely forget Precious telling me that being old was her punishment. But it was still too soon. Her story was not yet completely written.

Colin looked at his watch again, the third time in thirty minutes. “I wish they’d tell us something more conclusive than that she’s stabilized and sleeping comfortably.”

“They said they’d let us know as soon as she wakes,” Penelope soothed. “Although it’s quite late. She might sleep until morning. You two should go home and get some rest.”

“Just a while longer,” Colin said. “In case she wakes up and needs reassurance.”

Penelope smiled at her son. “Your father and I are here—and we promise to call you when she awakens. You should have left with Arabella. You both have to be at work in the morning, and there’s nothing you can do here.”

“I’d like to wait, too,” I said.

Penelope tapped her index finger against her chin. “Did you notice any mental confusion prior to her collapse?”

I thought for a moment. “Earlier in the day she had put on an old evening gown and was frantically looking for that photograph of Graham and not making a lot of sense. She calmed down once we found it. And last night she was reciting poetry from memory—a Wordsworth poem.” I frowned. “But she also said something strange. When I asked her what took her so long to come back to London, she said she waited until she was ready to face her past.”

Penelope frowned. “Whatever could she have meant by that?”

“I have no idea. She went to sleep right afterward, so I couldn’t ask her.” And then I threw myself on your son and forgot all about Precious. I looked away, feeling the heat rising up my neck.

Colin’s father stood and began pacing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. I remembered from school that Colin had done the same thing when we’d been studying together, saying it helped him think.

“What was the name again? The name Precious said,” James asked. “Was it Alec?”

“Alex. I think she was referring to Alexander Grof. I saw his name in some of the captions of pictures from The Tatler. He was photographed several times with Precious at several social functions. He was at Sophia’s wedding, too.”

James nodded slowly, silently contemplating. I studied him, wondering again what it was that was so familiar to me about him. “Any idea who he was?”

I shook my head. “She had quite a large social circle, so someone from her ‘set,’ as they used to call it.”

Penelope looked up from a magazine she’d been flipping through. “I don’t remember Sophia ever mentioning him, so he might have been just a hanger-on. The gossip pages aren’t always the best source for determining who’s actually a friend.”

“True,” I said. “Although if he wasn’t important, why was he Precious’s last conscious thought before she collapsed?”

“That’s a very good question,” Penelope agreed. “And one that we can all contemplate tomorrow after we’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“I think you’re right. I’m so bleary headed, I feel like a bagel in a bucket of grits.” I stood, vaguely aware of Colin suppressing a laugh as his parents stared at me. “Just promise you’ll call.”

Penelope stood, too, and kissed me on the cheek. Then she faced her son. “Colin, please, make sure Maddie gets home safely?”

“I’m fine, really,” I said. “If you want to go out with friends or whatever, I can find my way back on my own.” I’d avoided meeting Colin’s eyes the whole night, replaying over and over in my head the events of the previous evening. I had almost called Aunt Cassie for her advice, had reached for my phone multiple times before I talked myself out of it. Because she would only tell me what I already