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‘But I have a second qualified person available.’ She took the risk of testing her recall a little further.
‘In which case?’
‘One delivers compressions and the other rescue breaths. We switch every two minutes or so to avoid getting tired.’
He grinned. ‘So we’ll take it from the top, then?’
Sophie took a breath. Yes. It all came to her, like a well-understood routine. She checked for a response again, coming to the same conclusion as she had before. He helped her position the dummy, and she tilted its head back, ready to deliver rescue breaths.
‘You start with the compressions.’
He nodded, doing as she’d told him, counting aloud when he got to twenty-five. She gave the rescue breaths right on cue, and he nodded his approval, starting the compressions again straight away.
‘Do you want to try a switch?’ He was concentrating on what he was doing and didn’t look up at her.
‘Sure. On your signal.’
The switch was perfect. Almost without thinking, Sophie fell into the lifesaving rhythm, picking up the compressions where he’d left off, using her body weight to help give her the amount of pressure that the doctor had applied. They carried on for five repeats and then switched back again.
‘Perfect.’ He finally sat back on his heels.
‘Not so bad for an airhead, you mean?’ She gave a half-smile to indicate that he could take that as a joke, if he chose.
‘You said it…’
And Sophie knew beyond a doubt that he’d thought it. He hadn’t been able to disguise the surprise in his eyes when she’d shown she really did know how to perform CPR.
‘My father’s a doctor. He taught us all what to do in emergency situations. I’ve never had to do it for real…’ She couldn’t keep the trace of bitterness from her tone. Her father had always assumed she’d become a doctor, and instead she’d taken up a profession that had no value in his eyes. His only response to the news that she was making this film had been a back-handed compliment, saying he was glad she was at least pretending to do something useful.
‘Well remembered, then.’
He smiled, and pleasure trickled across the dull pain of rejection. Sophie wondered whether he’d adjust his opinion if he knew that she was still searching her mind for his first name. Dr Taylor seemed a little formal, since they’d just saved the life of a props dummy together.
‘As you already have a good idea of how to resuscitate someone, you understand the theory behind it all.’
‘Yes.’ Sophie nodded. When he put it that way, she supposed that she did.
‘Which will stand you in really good stead for this.’ He got to his feet, producing a copy of the medical techniques document. She’d studied her copy for hours, hoping that she might retain at least some of it. ‘I guess you haven’t had much of a chance to look at it.’
‘No. Not really.’ He was giving her a way out, and Sophie took it gratefully.
He grinned. ‘I guess that’s my job. It gives a detailed description of how resuscitation was carried out in the nineteen-forties—which is a little different from the way we do it now.’
‘They did chest compressions but no rescue breaths.’ A fragment of fact suddenly popped into her mind.
He nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve managed to find a couple of old training films on the internet. But it may be easier to just try it ourselves.’ He knelt down next to her. ‘Do you want to start with the compressions?’
‘Okay.’ Sophie could do that. She already knew how to do compressions. This morning was going a lot better than she’d expected it to. No tantrums needed to cover her lapses in memory, and the doctor seemed to be going out of his way not to spring anything unexpected on her.
‘Right, then.’ He flashed her a grin. ‘Here we go…’
The morning’s work had been a success. Starting with what Sophie knew and then using gesture and movement to reinforce the new information seemed to have worked. The atmosphere on set lightened considerably as she sailed through her scene that afternoon, even managing to bestow a few smiles on her co-star and the crew.
Joel, the director, spared a nod of satisfaction for Drew, clearly pleased with his tutelage. Carly gave him a beaming smile when she thought no one else was looking, and Sophie ignored him completely.
Even though she clearly didn’t want to think about him unless she absolutely had to, Sophie dominated Drew’s thoughts. He watched her carefully, and as dispassionately as he could. And the more he watched her, the more he realised that he knew what was wrong, and that she was trying desperately to cover it up.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_1581539d-3a43-5755-bb8c-f757b36a707a)
THE FOLLOWING DAY didn’t start well. The script had said rain, but real rain seemed to be a problem, and an unscheduled downpour had stopped filming for a while. Rumour had it that Carly was confined to her room at the hotel with a stomach bug, and Sophie’s face was set in a hard, concentrated frown. She avoided him as if he had something catching.
Joel had called cut, and the clapperboard signalled the tenth rerun of a scene that should have been easy. Each time she’d fluffed her lines Sophie’s air of prickly uninterest had increased markedly.
‘It’s all a matter of…’ She stopped suddenly, frowning. ‘This isn’t right, Joel.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake…’ Todd Hunter, her co-star, turned away suddenly, frustration and anger showing on his face. Joel moved in to smooth things over.
‘What’s the matter, Sophie?’
‘It’s not right… Give me the script…’ Sophie looked as if she was about to burst into tears.
A copy of the script appeared out of nowhere, and Sophie leafed through it, seemingly too dissatisfied to find the right page, and then threw it to one side. Drew got to his feet, navigating through the circle of cameras and sound technicians around her.
‘It’s nearly lunchtime. We’ll take a break.’ Joel seemed resigned to handling Sophie’s moods and perhaps he thought that the catering truck could do what he couldn’t and get today on a better footing. ‘Sophie…’
Joel’s mouth quirked in an expression of helplessness as he found himself speaking to thin air. Sophie was already on her way to her trailer, cutting a swathe into the crowd around her as they moved to get out of her way.
Jennie, a bright, usually happy young woman, who had introduced herself yesterday to Drew as Sophie’s assistant, ran after her. He saw Sophie turn, aiming a couple of angry words in Jennie’s direction and gesturing to her to go away. Jennie fell back, her face reddening, and Drew frowned. That kind of behaviour really wasn’t necessary.
Drew pushed through the groups of people who were putting some distance between themselves and Sophie. She could act up with Joel, and he’d try to smooth things over to get her co-operation. Everyone else would cave in to her tantrums, in fear for their jobs. But this was one job he didn’t need to keep.
Dammit! One curse vied with another in her head, filling her thoughts with the kind of obscenities that she never spoke out loud. She was turning into a monster. Slowly and irrevocably, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
‘Sophie…’
The one voice she didn’t want to hear. The doctor. Damn him, too.
‘Sophie…?’
He didn’t give up, did he? She was twenty feet from her trailer and then she could slam the door in his face, lock him out.
She didn’t make it. With just a couple of paces to go before she reached safety, she felt his hand on her arm.
‘Let go of me.’ She whipped her arm away as if he’d grabbed it, not just touched it lightly.
‘Wait, Sophie.’
His tone was so sure, so commanding, and in a sea of misunderstandings and unknowns it was the only thing that seemed to make any sense. Despite herself, she stopped.
‘You haven’t figured out how things work around here yet, have you?’ She glared at him. ‘I’m at the top of the pecking order and you’re at the bottom. You don’t tell me what to do.’
That bloody smile again. Relaxed and assured, the smile of a man who already knew his place in the world and didn’t need anyone to tell him what it was. And dangerous in the extreme. ‘I thought that was exactly my role. I’m an advisor and so I advise.’
‘Don’t be smart with me.’ Sophie rolled her eyes and turned away from him, as if what he’d just said didn’t deserve a proper answer. That always seemed to work when she couldn’t come up with the words she wanted.
He slipped past her, opening the door of her trailer and walking inside. Her private trailer. The only place where she could take some refuge from the noise and bustle of the set. Panic started to rise in her chest.
‘Get. Out.’
‘There seems to be something wrong. I’d like to help.’
‘I don’t need help.’ Anger wasn’t working, and she tried another tack. Right on cue she summoned tears and a look of melting supplication. ‘Please, go…’
He smiled, sitting down in one of the comfortable armchairs in the seating area. ‘Nice one. You’re very good.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Sophie scowled at him.
‘It means that you’re a tremendous actress. And that you’ll do anything to stop anyone finding out the difficulties you’re having right now. Only I see through it.’
If he’d had any doubts about his conclusions before, the mock tears and that look of seductive pleading banished them altogether. She knew exactly what was wrong with her. If he could get through to her, just talk to her and make her see sense, then he’d be out of here in a week and back to a world where sanity was more of a guiding principle.
She sat down opposite him. That was something. Sitting was better than running.
‘Who sent you to spy on me? Who are you reporting to?’
‘No one. It’s not like that at all, Sophie. When Carly spoke to me she mentioned…’
Wrong move. All the colour drained from Sophie’s face and her hand flew to her mouth. Tears formed in her eyes and this time they looked like the real thing.
‘Carly…? No…’
‘Carly happened to mention that you were under a bit of stress.’ That was stretching the truth to breaking point, but he’d already landed Carly in enough hot water.
Sophie stared at him blankly. Drew had seen that look before, when everything became too much and someone started to shut down.
‘Sophie, listen to me. It’s okay…’
‘You think that any of this is okay?’ she flashed back at him.
Time for the truth. ‘All right. I don’t know anything for sure, but here’s what I think I know. You’re having difficulties with your short-term memory. The things you’ve known for a while are no problem, it’s new information that you can’t process properly. It’s possible that you sustained a mild traumatic brain injury in your recent car accident.’
‘Carly just happened to mention that as well?’ She’d composed herself now, and was staring straight at him.
‘She’s a good friend to you, Sophie, and she’s trying to help you.’ If he could do nothing else, at least he could try to repair the damage he’d done. So far he’d only managed to isolate Sophie even further from the one person who seemed to care about her.
‘Whatever. That’s not really your business, is it?’
‘No, it’s just an observation.’
‘Yes, it’s all just observations, isn’t it? I think it’s all in your imagination.’
‘What’s my name, Sophie?’
She shot him a defiant look. ‘Dr…’
‘My name.’
‘What do I care?’ She looked as if she was about to launch into another diatribe about how she was the important person around here, and his status was that of a cockroach, when a knock sounded on the door.
‘Catering…’
‘Come in.’ Sophie pulled herself together and gave the young woman who entered a composed smile, watching as she set a covered plate on the table and got water from the fridge in the tiny kitchenette at the far end of the living space.
‘Would you bring another plate, please?’
‘For Dr Taylor? Sure.’ The woman turned to Drew. ‘What would you like?’
‘Anything’s fine.’ Sophie’s sudden turnaround was a surprise, but if accepting lunch meant that she was going to let him stay a while longer then he would eat whatever anyone put in front of him.
‘Chicken in a cream sauce, sautéed potatoes, green beans…?’
‘Sounds great. Thank you.’
The woman nodded. ‘Back in a tick.’
He picked up the bottle of water from the table and filled her glass, aware that she was watching every move he made. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t get any ideas. It’s only lunch. We’re not best friends yet.’
‘I know.’ She’d obviously come to the conclusion that she couldn’t get rid of him so she was calling a truce. Drew nodded at her plate. ‘Don’t wait for me, yours will get cold.’
He knew. It was one thing for people to speculate, but he was a doctor and his word held some weight. And he wasn’t just speculating, he knew. The only way out of this mess was to stop denying the obvious and try to get him to keep quiet about it.
Lunch gave her an opportunity to think. The doctor never mentioned anything to do with her memory until they were sipping their coffee, but Sophie knew this was temporary. He was biding his time, in just the same way she was.
‘There’s something I have to know.’
‘Okay.’ He handed her the mint chocolate that had come with his coffee. He must have noticed that she’d eaten hers straight away. He seemed to notice far too much.
‘I need you to be discreet.’ She unwrapped the chocolate, nibbling at the edge of it.
He nodded. ‘Carly’s already taken care of that.’ He reached into his pocket, taking out a couple of sheets of paper, stapled together. Sophie wondered if he’d been carrying them around with him in anticipation of just this moment.
She scanned them carefully. A standard confidentiality agreement, with his signature and Carly’s on the bottom. ‘You plan to honour this?’
‘Yes. Even without it, anything you say is confidential. I’m a doctor.’
‘I don’t recall asking for your professional services.’ The jibe came out of nowhere, from the place where everything was a threat and no one could be trusted.
