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on the cheek. ‘You see? I helped you and now you are helping me. Thank you.’

Sarita put a hand on her son’s shoulder and Tara understood it was a sign they had to go.

‘He must rest,’ Jed said by way of explanation. ‘He is still building his strength.’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ll come and see you before you go,’ Jed said.

‘Great . . . Thank you, Paco,’ she said again, as the child was led away.

Her mother was watching closely. ‘I take it he’s the child I almost lost my child for?’ It had taken days for them all to calm her mother down. The talk of kidnappers and ransoms, curses and then hospitals had left her nerves in a friable state.

‘Yes. He’s Jed’s eldest son. He’ll be seven soon.’

‘Well,’ her mother nodded, watching his dark head move through the crowd. ‘. . . I can see why you went to the effort.’

Tara smiled. If her mother couldn’t understand the impetus to work, she could certainly understand the need to help.

‘What was the diagnosis in the end?’ Holly asked, curiosity glinting in her voice.

Tara turned back to her. ‘Cholestatic hepatitis, but presenting as myeloid leukaemia.’

‘Really?’ Holly’s eyes sparkled. ‘So then you and the voodoo guy were both right.’

‘Yeah,’ Tara grinned.

‘And you got all this confirmed how?’

‘Once he started responding to the leaves we brought back – enough to build his strength – Jed got Sarita to agree to some blood tests at the clinic.’

‘So then your madcap scheme actually worked,’ Holly chuckled, shaking her head. ‘You brought them over to the dark side.’

‘Not really. As soon as leukaemia was conclusively ruled out, he went back to the village and he’s been treated entirely by the black star leaves ever since. Not an antibiotic in sight.’

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Her mother looked surprised by the foul language, but she had always had a soft spot for Holly. She patted Holly’s arm consolingly. ‘I’m going to go and check on your father,’ she said to Tara. ‘Make sure he’s not hatching any more deals to give away the rest of our money. I’m planning on spending what’s left.’

‘Go, Mrs T!’ Holly cheered.

Tara looked around at the assorted guests. Her father was still talking to the President, each of them holding a glass, and their body language infinitely more relaxed now the official duties were completed. William appeared to be talking to someone with medals.

A hand suddenly closed around her bicep. ‘Oh my God. Do not move. Incoming,’ Holly breathed, stepping in closer to her. ‘Total fucking hottie, six o’clock.’

Tara fell still, unable to see but knowing exactly to whom her friend was referring. The moment she had lived and breathed for during the past two months was almost here – as she had known it would be. Like a satellite in space, it had been spinning towards her for years. Nothing could throw it off course now.

‘He’s not too hot on those crutches though,’ Holly murmured, watching on Tara’s behalf.

‘Is he in pain?’ She could hear the concern in her own voice.

‘No. I’d say he looks more . . . pissed off. People keep stopping him to talk . . . Oh. Oh. He keeps looking over. Don’t move.’

‘I’m not moving.’ Tara felt his gaze upon her back. She could still remember the feeling of his scar beneath her thumb, the shock and euphoria of discovering he was alive . . .

‘Honestly, just look at him—’ Holly whispered. ‘No! I said don’t move.’

‘You just said to look at him!’ Tara pouted.

Holly’s eyes narrowed, watching his slow progress. ‘He always was far too handsome for your own good. And cocky as fuck, using you to get to your dad so he could talk him into buying a national park. You know, as you do. Everyday stuff.’

Tara grinned. ‘I’ve sort of forgiven him for that now.’

‘I’m not sure I have. I’ve got PTSD from dealing with the bloody aftermath.’

‘You’re fine,’ Tara chuckled.

Holly looked at her, suddenly serious. ‘Am I, though?’

‘What do you mean?’ Tara frowned, watching as the jokes faded from her friend’s eyes. It was always worrying when Hols grew serious.

‘. . . Sometimes I feel so guilty.’

‘About what?’

‘About me getting what you wanted so badly – Dev, Jimmy, all the stuff I gave you crap about.’

Tara was stunned. It had never once occurred to her that Holly might have felt this way. ‘Hols, no! I never resented you for it. Not for a minute.’

‘Really, though?’

Holly looked back at her and for the first time Tara saw the scar tissue in her friend too, the twists of fate that had spun them all around, throwing their crystal-clear career paths, life goals and thrusting ambitions into complete disarray. None of them were living the lives they would have predicted for themselves ten years earlier – and yet somehow, against the odds . . . hadn’t things largely worked out? ‘Really.’

‘Oh God. He’s nearly here.’ A secretive smile crept onto Holly’s lips. ‘Just stay calm.’

‘I am calm. You’re the one who needs a sedative . . . What’s that smile for?’ Tara asked suspiciously.

‘I was just thinking how sweet it was, the way he came down a mountain looking for you that day and then went straight back up it again – he was like Rambo in chinos! Even after Rory biffed him on the nose.’

‘Rory punched him?’

‘Fully justified if Alex was going to kiss his girlfriend and make him listen to it, let’s be honest,’ Holly shrugged. ‘At least he got to restore his honour.’

Tara grinned and Holly watched her, seeing how she couldn’t quite bring her mouth down from a smile or dial back the light in her eyes. She gave a heavy sigh. ‘So this is how it’s going to be from now on, is it? He’s really the one?’

Tara looked at her. ‘You know as well as I do – he was always the one.’

An enigmatic look came upon her friend again. ‘Well then, in that case . . .’ And she leaned in to whisper a secret.

‘You came back.’

She turned to face him and the electricity zipped between them, quicksilver, making a mockery of words. ‘Of course.’

They both let the words hang for a moment, both

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