Wait!’She was pounding along the street, the warmth of the pub fading from her cheeks, the shout only dimly registering in her brain amid a tangle of swirling worries. Typical, wasn’t it, the one night she dared go out and her daughter fell ill. The one night she wasn’t there, guarding her babies. Bad mummy. Negligent mummy. She had to get home as fast as possible. Thank goodness she had the car.‘CLARE! Wait!’Footsteps thudded behind her and then Luke was at her side. ‘I’ll come with you,’ he offered, his eyes liquid in the filmy evening light. ‘We can stop at the surgery, grab a medical kit, I can check her over for you. If you want me to, of course?’ he added, less certainly.‘Would you? Oh God, that would be brilliant, thank you,’ she panted gratefully. ‘My car’s just in here,’ she added, pointing at the car-park entrance on their right. ‘Thank you. She slowed to a jog, putting a hand to her chest. She was wheezing like an old boiler and probably scarlet in the face, but who cared.
