Ruin everything
Millie stood at the back of the church in the shadows, prepared for a quick exit as soon as the ceremony was finished. This was the first wedding she had ever been invited to. El had, yet again, been ridiculously excited to pick out her outfit. Millie knew she looked perfect.
But she also knew her limits.
She would not be going to the reception. She would not be congratulating the bride and groom. It was enough to watch them from here, to see how happy Libby and Rosie looked, and to know that in a small way she had something to do with that happiness; not that she would ever let them know that. Libby already took too much interest in Millie for her liking. Not many people looked beneath her cool exterior, not many could be bothered; but she had a feeling Libby was different. If she knew what Millie had done, she would no doubt double her efforts to draw her out.
Applause broke out when the couple kissed as man and wife despite the vicar not inviting them to do so. Millie knew that was her cue to leave. But she allowed herself a moment longer to watch their happiness. She even allowed herself a fleeting smile. Something caught her eye next to the altar and she froze, her smile dying on her lips. One pair of dark eyes wasn’t on the bride and groom like the rest of the church; these eyes were looking directly at her, and, as always, they held way too much curiousity.
Pavlos Martakis was really becoming a problem. Since that day in her office a month ago he’d attempted to apologize more than once. Seemingly immune to embarrassment, he’d brought her coffees at every single weekly MDT and persisted in trying to approach her despite her continued rudeness. After the second week Millie had broken and taken a sip of the Americano he’d left in front of her. The bastard was smiling when he managed to catch her eye after that small victory, but it hadn’t stopped her from polishing the whole cup off. By her calculation she owed him fifteen pounds and seventy-three pence currently in Americanos. It was getting ridiculous.
She broke eye contact to take one more look at the gorgeous couple, then allowed her gaze to sweep over the congregation. The empty feeling that had been intensifying for the last few months grew almost crippling for a moment, but she pushed it down, like always, and turned her back on all the happy people around her to leave.
But, once she was standing outside the church, Millie realised that simply seeing Libby and Jamie get married would not be enough. She wanted just a little more. She wanted to watch them leave the church together, and she even wanted to shower some of the confetti rose petals she’d been given by one of the ushers at the start of the service on them. Although she knew that she wasn’t responsible for the couple finally getting married, Millie liked to think that by taking the pressure off Libby financially (not that Libby knew it was her), she had had a small part to play. So she stepped back behind a few gravestones and watched the congregation file out.
The church had been packed so the crowd was huge. Perfect for melting into and remaining anonymous. Millie found crowds strangely comforting, as long as she was amongst them and not the focus of their attention. The wedding guests divided to surround the path out of the church and Millie joined the throng nearest the far gate. She merged perfectly, reminding herself to give Eleanor the most enormous tip next time she saw her. El would like that. It was some small compensation for the amount of time she had to spend with her; Millie was well aware of how boring and downright uncomfortable her company could be; the very least she could do was recompense Eleanor financially for it.
A cheer went up in the crowd as the couple emerged and Millie felt the corners of her mouth tip up, just a little. Jamie was carrying Rosie, with his other arm wrapped around his new wife, and all three were laughing. In Millie’s mind the crowd melted away as she focused on them and the joy radiating from their threesome. When they were nearly at the gate she shook out her confetti to join the rest of the rose petals in the air. That was when Rosie spotted her.
‘Millie!’ Rosie shouted, wriggling frantically until she was set down on her feet next to Jamie and then plunging into the crowd to get through to where Millie was standing, open-mouthed with shock.
Rosie, Don and Gammy were the only people that Millie allowed herself to believe genuinely enjoyed her company. In Don’s case he hadn’t really had much choice in the matter, Gammy was family; but Rosie – now, Rosie had chosen her. She’d pushed her way into Millie’s office one day when her mother was down in the radiology department asking for a scan and plonked herself down on Millie’s lap. Millie didn’t know any other children, but she knew Rosie was special. Gifted. Not in the way Millie had been gifted, not at the expense of her social skills or happiness. But in a way that complemented every aspect of her personality: that gave her higher emotional intelligence than most fifty-year-olds, leave alone five-year-olds.
‘You came!’ Rosie shouted when she was finally in front of Millie. Her arms went straight up in the air and she did a little dance on the spot before she launched herself at Millie’s legs. For some reason the little girl looked like she had rolled in mud before the church service and had a couple of twigs sticking out of her hair. Millie felt her cheeks heat as all eyes swung from the newlyweds to her and she squatted down to Rosie’s level. Rosie detached herself from Millie’s legs to circle her neck with her little arms.
‘You look so pretty,’ Millie told her, cuddling the small body close and letting that familiar warm feeling settle on her chest, despite the discomfort of being the focus of attention. ‘You’ve been bug-hunting though, huh?’
Rosie pulled back slightly and opened her little fist to reveal a centipede and a woodlouse. ‘They wanted to come to the church too,’ she explained. ‘Can you tell me their posh names?’
‘This one is Armadillidium Valgare and this guy is Collinellidae. Okay? Now you’d better get back to your –’
‘Rosie, what are you … ? Oh, it’s you.’ Millie looked up to see that Kira had made it through the crowd. She looked beautiful in her bridesmaid dress, her red hair containing a deep blue streak of the exact same shade. Kira was barely over five feet tall but Millie still found her ridiculously intimidating. Suddenly the light-beige silk outfit Eleanor had painstakingly selected felt dull and lifeless. ‘Rose-Pose, come on. Mummy and Daddy are waiting.’
‘I get a daddy now,’ Rosie told Millie, unwinding her arms from Millie’s neck and skipping over to Kira to take her hand.
‘I know you do,’ Millie said. ‘That’s fantastic news. Statistically speaking, young women with father figures are more likely to complete higher education and less likely to conceive a child during their teen years.’
Kira rolled her eyes. ‘I think she’s a bit young to under –’
‘I knows what she’s sayin’.’ Rosie cut Kira off in an angry little voice.
‘Of course you do, Squirt,’ Kira said, then turned back to Millie. ‘You’re not on the table plan. You know that, right?’
‘Yes,’ Millie replied, just above a whisper as she took a small step back.
‘Libby was upset that you rejected the invite. It’s just it’s really difficult if people say they’re not coming but then change their minds at the last –’
‘I just wanted to see … I won’t –’
‘I know: you won’t mingle with the commoners.’ Kira turned away after that cutting remark and started pulling Rosie along with her.
Millie huffed out a breath of relief as she watched them disappear in the direction of the bridal car. Then she started to weave her way through the crowd to get out onto the narrow street at the back of the church, where she had parked hers.
She was concentrating on her feet as she wound her way through the gravestones and onto the cobbled path, so she didn’t notice the large obstacle in front of her until she was nearly on top of him.
‘Woah!’ Pav said, his large hands closing over her upper arms to stop her falling backwards. ‘Careful there. These stone buggers would give you one hell of a bruise on the arse.’
Millie couldn’t have spoken if she’d tried, so all she did was pull away and take a few steps back. She moved to the side to pass him, but he stepped in her way, blocking her again. He was wearing a morning suit, but had already loosened the tie. He looked almost too attractive to be real. A sense of déjà vu swept over her. Why was this man always trying to get in her way?
‘Listen,’ he said into the silence. She moved to the side again, and again he moved with her to block her path. ‘I want to clear the air with you once and for all. Okay?’ Millie blinked and Mr Martakis let out a sigh before continuing. ‘I was out of order that day in your office. I might have been a little …’ he paused and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw in an uncharacteristic gesture of uncertainty, ‘… frustrated with the situation. And I wanted to come clean about something else, too. I may have knocked your mouse that day in your office a few weeks ago, and I may have seen a document on there mentioning Libby …’
Millie took a deep breath and forced herself to speak. The last thing she wanted was for Mr Martakis to start sniffing around that bit of scheming. He’d ruin everything.
‘The Deanery sent some stuff through to me about her because …’ she crossed her fingers behind her back, ‘because I’m on the committee for grant approval for the trust.’
This was impossible for two reasons: first, there was no such committee, and second, Millie was not a consultant; even if she were, with her lack of basic communication skills she would have had nothing to do with the medical students anyway.
She must have been too flustered that day to close the file and shut down the computer properly, which just went to prove how out of character she behaved around this particular man. What Libby didn’t know was that the university wasn’t upping her grant at all, the money going into Libby’s account every month was from Millie – but that was a fact Millie was intending to take to her grave. She didn’t blame Mr Martakis for the suspicious look on his face. It wasn’t like he could know that Libby’s daughter was the first good thing to happen to Millie in forever. Or that looking after Rosie the few times she was allowed was just about the best thing in Millie’s life, and that the fact Libby would trust Millie with her child meant everything to her.
Millie had money. She had a lot of money. But there was nothing to spend it on other than the charities she supported and the wardrobe Eleanor picked out for her. So if having a grant to complete her training and not have to rely on a man, or to strip for a living, would make Libby happy, then that’s what Millie was going to give her. She couldn’t offer the money directly – for one, Millie would never be that brave, and for another, Libby would never have taken it. But this way everyone was a winner – unless this interfering man standing in front of her blabbed about what he’d seen on her computer.
‘Oh.’ Mr Martakis cocked his head to the side. Her gaze flicked up to his face briefly and she noticed him narrow his eyes. ‘Right. I suppose –’
‘I’ve got to go,’ she blurted out, dodging round him successfully this time. To her annoyance she heard his heavy footfalls follow her to the small gate leading out onto the road. As she pulled back the latch and pushed it open, his hand shot out and held it shut. She could feel his heat at her back as he crowded her, but she was trapped between his body and the gate.
‘You’ve got somewhere better to be?’ he asked, and she could feel his breath on her cheek.
‘Yes,’ she told him, realising too late how rude that would sound. ‘Move away. Now.’
‘Oh … right … sorry,’ he said, taking his hand off the gate and stepping back. She let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, and flew out onto the road.
‘Whoa!’ she heard him shout behind her, and then felt herself yanked backwards. A car shot past inches away from her feet and she staggered into the hard wall of his chest. ‘Christ. Are you okay?’
She could smell him: toothpaste, soap, aftershave and man. It made her head spin.
‘I’m fine,’ she told him, and pulled away, this time safely onto the pavement. ‘Uh, thanks,’ she muttered at her feet, wondering what was the minimum required amount of time you had to spend with someone after they had saved your life. But of course she would never have been rushing out onto a road had he not been intimidating her, so it was not entirely her fault, not that someone as arrogant as Mr Martakis would ever apol –
‘No … don’t thank me. It was my fault,’ he said quickly. She started in surprise but then began to inch away again. ‘Look, Dr Morrison, I really did just want to say sorry for being a pushy arsehole, but I guess I just acted like a pushy arsehole … again. Could you … I mean … I …’
He was following her down the street now as she had started walking away in earnest.
‘It’s fine,’ she muttered, having at last reached her car. ‘You’d better get back.’ She attempted to force a smile, but, going by his frown, realised she likely missed the mark by a long way.
Home, she thought to herself, limits.
‘Okay, well I –’
She slammed the door of her Prius, cutting him off, and then closed her eyes for a moment before she pulled away from the curb. Millie tried to resist the rear-view mirror, she really did. But just before she turned the corner her eyes flicked up. He was still standing there, his arms crossed over his broad chest and his head cocked to the side like she was some sort of complicated puzzle he wanted to solve. A challenge.
Millie didn’t want to be a puzzle or a challenge. She wanted to try and live her life within her limits. Somehow she had a feeling Mr Martakis and his damn curiosity could threaten that.
Then again, she’d had years of experience blending into the background, making herself invisible, or at least unpleasant enough to be avoided. A man like him would forget about her in a heartbeat.