Page 2 of Scandal Queen

A whimper escaped my lips while my head pounded.

Better not to think about anything at all.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew Molly gave me a gentle shake. I smiled at her for one glorious moment until the wrecking ball smashed back into my chest.

“Mummy?” Daisy’s murmur made me move and I sat up straighter

“Hey, sweetie, you’re awake.”

“I’ve been awake for ages. Patrick let me sing to Frozen.”

Patrick threw me a lopsided smirk. “I’m a true gentleman.”

I sent him a small smile of my own. Molly’s brother, bless him, had been doggedly determined to make a play for me for years. I’d never even given him a serious thought, not in a true sense anyway, yet here he was still helping me. “You are. I see that now.”

Bad thing to say.

I watched his smirk grow in the rearview mirror. “All it took was some other arse—”

“Patrick!” Molly hit him in the stomach but then turned to me. “Anyway, ignore him. I woke you up ‘cause we’re here.”

I glanced out of the window. Sure enough, the sun had spread pale pink and orange fingers across the sky. Shadows of black and grey had lifted to a pale blue. “What happened to Exeter?”

“We let you sleep.”

I rubbed at my face. I must have needed it. I hadn’t slept since Daisy’s school had called to tell me she’d suffered a near fatal asthma attack.

My brain reeled a little, but I tried to lock it down as I smiled at Daisy. “How are you feeling?”

“Fiiiinne, Muuuummy.”

“Sweetie, I’m not expecting you to be fine for a long time.”

She didn’t understand words like heart attacks. She didn’t know that there had been a brief period of time when her little six-year-old body had all but given up. “Well I do.” She tilted her chin. “Has Ollie called?”

I winced almost compulsively. “No, Daisy.” I knew now I’d never lie to my child again. It would be the whole truth all the time. I’d kept my past from her for too long. Three days ago, she’d found out what sort of woman my own mother was by reading about it on the front page of a newspaper. Parenting fail 101.

“Check the phone.” She nodded at my bag.

With my chest squeezing, like an elephant had decided to rest on my ribcage, I reached down and flicked the screen.

“Nope.” I showed her the screen. I didn’t show her the last text I sent to Oliver. The text where I'd said Patrick and Molly were taking me to an old family property in Cornwall. “Sweetie, I think we need to be very realistic that we won’t see him again.”

The poor girl had just survived a heart attack. We’d driven her through the night to get her out of London. There seemed little point in sugar-coating the facts. The small world I'd built for her the last six years no longer existed.

She folded her arms, her little pouted lips pressing into a tight line. “Nope. I don't believe you.”

I sighed. I guess this is what happens when you mixed a Disney obsessed six-year-old with a real prince.

“Come on, let’s go and see what state this place is in.” Patrick broke the standoff and I smiled in his direction. Only small, and rather pathetic, at least I managed one.

“What’s wrong with it?” Daisy’s attention swiftly transferred.

Patrick grinned at her and undid his seatbelt. “No one has stayed here for a while. There could be a lot wrong with it.”

I blinked out through the window at the small cottage. I’d seen worse paint jobs, but the weeds on what would have been a small front garden, were waist high. “I’m grateful, guys, I really am.” I swallowed hard. “And your parents don’t mind?”

“Believe me, Cornwall isn’t sunny enough for them.” Molly scrunched her face—her normal response when talking about her relatives. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Patrick can go and see if the little shop is open.”