Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5) (15 page)

Sam gazed at herself in the mirror and wiped away her tears, trying to tidy the eyeliner that Scott had so kindly applied for her earlier. Her frustration cracked – she seemed to be making herself look more like Alice Cooper with each wipe.

Sophisticated and glamorous? Who was she trying to kid? She didn’t belong with these people. Even the restrooms were too posh for her, with their stupid embossed walls and the uniformed attendant who handed out towels and piffed you with expensive perfume. There were several other women in here at the moment, touching up their hair and make-up, and chatting with their friends. They were ignoring Sam, which was good, because right now her only desire in the world was for this mirror to absorb every atom in her body.

Sam’s eyes caught sight of the offending brooch in the mirror. She reached up to remove it, but the velvet-covered door was thrust open and a male figure strode in. Sam closed her eyes and prepared to face Verlaine’s anger at humiliating his mother. But surely he’d understand it’d been an innocent mistake. She glanced over at the approaching man, and realised it wasn’t Verlaine; her insides sparkled as she saw her lovely friend.

Why did filmmakers always think that women got hysterical when a man walked into the ladies’ room? These women ignored Scott, or jovially asked him if he was lost. 

He halted beside Sam and squeezed her shoulder. “What happened? I saw you run off – all hell’s breaking loose out there between Patty and Ellie.”

“The brooch,” Sam said. “It’s upset Patty. Apparently it belonged to Verlaine’s grandmother, but she bequeathed it to Ellie. Not sure why. Didn’t hang around to find out.”

“Oh god, Sam; Rebecca must’ve known – she’s set you up!”

“So it seems.”

“I told you she was a bitch.”

Sam plucked another tissue from the gold-plated box and wiped her eyes.  “God I feel like such a fool. Who was I trying to kid – thinking I could become part of Verlaine’s family. Not while Rebecca’s still hanging around.”

“Verlaine loves you. We can go back out there now and find Rebecca, and you can confront her. Ask her what her intentions are towards your man. Come on, I’ll back you up.” 

The door swept open again. A couple of ladies were leaving, but they were forced out the way by the woman barging in.

“Looks like she’s saved us the trouble,” Sam said.

Sam glanced at Rebecca and saw that she’d dropped the act now. She was swaggering and smirking, as if this final faux pas meant she’d won.

“You’ve really upset Patty,” Rebecca said. “She’s crying out there. I think she’s going home. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

Sam closed her eyes, which unfortunately squeezed a couple of tears down her cheeks; she opened her eyes and grabbed another tissue.

Scott placed himself between Sam and Rebecca. “Why don’t you just leave her alone? Haven’t you done enough damage?”

“What are
you
doing in the ladies’ room? I know you dress like a woman, but you’ve got no right to be in here.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Scott asked. “You think I’ve never been criticised over the way I dress before? You don’t intimidate me, Rebecca. You might have everyone else fooled, but I can see straight through your crap.”

The door was pushed open again and Verlaine flew in. All the other ladies had left now, leaving the four of them to entertain the attendant with their dramas.

“Sam! What’s going on? Where the hell did you get that brooch?”

“Rebecca set her up
,
” Scott said.

“Rubbish,” Rebecca said. “I found it in my room. I’d never seen it myself until today. Obviously it’s all a big misunderstanding.”

“Bullshit,” Scott said.

“Verlaine,” Rebecca said. “Don’t you think it’s strange how defensive Scott is of Sam? They’re always together, aren’t they? Doesn’t that make you suspicious?”

“No, Rebecca, it doesn’t. Why do you keep trying to stir things up between me and Sam? I know Scott’s not interested in her. And she’s not interested in him.”

Rebecca’s brow crumpled and the act came back. “Oh, Verlaine! It’s true. I
have
been trying to cause friction between you and Sam. The truth is, I still love you. I’ve always loved you. I married Ken on the rebound. And Sam’s such a sweet girl – I can understand why you like her. It’s highly commendable that she’d want you after everything you did back in Michigan.
I
forgave you a long time ago for that. But I wonder if Sam will?”

Her words seemed to pin Verlaine to the spot. He stared at her, winded.

Sam knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t resist Rebecca’s bait. “Verlaine, what
did
you do back in Michigan?”

“Sam,” Scott said, “don’t fall for it. She’s trying to split you two up.”

Rebecca sneered. “He hasn’t told you about his criminal past, then?”

“What criminal past?”

“I don’t have a criminal past.”

“You
were
arrested and charged with assault, weren’t you?”

Verlaine opened his mouth. He closed it again. Sam started at him waiting for him to deny Rebecca’s accusations.

“Well,” Sam said. “Were you?”

“I was. But let me explain.”

Panic gripped Sam’s brain; could this really be happening? How could Verlaine have kept this from her? It was humiliating. She swallowed, trying to ignore the pain of her thrashing heart. Did Paul know about this? Did Scott? Did everyone know apart from her?

His words echoed off the walls. “I beat up a guy when I was seventeen because he was bullying my friend at school, okay? This bully was making my friend’s life a living hell. No one would help him – the teachers, parents, the other kids – they all turned a blind eye. So I took the matter into my own hands. It’s not my proudest hour, but it was a lifetime ago. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, baby. I didn’t even think it was important anymore.”

Rebecca threw her hand to her hip. “Of course it’s important, Verlaine. Don’t you know anything about women?”

“Well, I –”

Rebecca talked over him. “You
need
me, Verlaine. We work well together. I’m an insurance broker – I earn decent money. I can support you. You do still love me, don’t you? What do you say?”

Verlaine frowned and opened his mouth to reply. But the door was pushed open again, and Gemma rushed in looking vexed.

“Sam!” she said. “Oh my god! This is a disaster!”

Sam inhaled bravely. “It’s okay, Gem. I think Verlaine was just about to tell Rebecca to take a hike. Nothing to worry about.”

Gemma rubbed her huge tummy. “Yes there fucking is! My fucking waters have just broken!”

All eyes swivelled to check Gemma’s trousers. Sam saw a wet patch at the front.

The world shifted uncomfortably around her. “But the twins aren’t due for six weeks.”

“Tell that to fucking them!”

Verlaine gently gripped Gemma’s shoulder. “We’d better get you to hospital, huh?”

“No, no. They won’t admit me until I’m ten centimetres dilated.”

“Well, what should we do?” Verlaine asked.

“I don’t know. This could take hours… days. I’ll get a taxi home and wait. You stay here and enjoy yourselves.”

Sam’s heart filled with pride at how calm her sister was being. She was an inspiration amongst the madness that had just been spiralling around the room.

“I don’t think enjoying ourselves is very likely now,” Sam said. “Why don’t we come with you? We’ve got a lot to discuss, Verlaine, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, sure. Scott, you coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll find Paul.”

Sam turned to face her friend. “You and Paul are welcome to stay here and enjoy the ball if you want.”

“I’m not staying anywhere near Rebecca,” Scott said, shooting her an evil glance. “Not within a million miles.”

The snow was lashing down now, and the T-bird’s windshield wipers were unable to cope, meaning Verlaine could hardly see the road ahead. Sam sat in the back with her arm around Gemma, and Scott was on Gemma’s other side, holding her hand. She seemed quite far into labour now, which was impossible, because Sam knew labour took hours of painful pushing. But she was groaning and holding her tummy, as if she was in considerable pain. Sam was trying not to panic, but it was distressing to see her usually-level-headed sister in such a state.

Paul was sitting in the front discussing something with Verlaine as he carefully drove them through the blizzard. Sam couldn’t hear what they were talking about above the sound of Gemma’s heavy breathing.

“Sammy,” Gemma panted. “I think they’re coming.”

“They are, Gem, but it’ll be okay. It shouldn’t take more than an hour to get you to your hospital.”

“Take me to
any
hospital! Don’t bother driving all the way back into London, Verlaine! Check your sat-nav for the closest one and take me there!”

“I haven’t got a sat-nav, Miss Jenkins.”

Scott pulled out his phone. “I’ll check on Google Maps.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Verlaine said.

“Sittingbourne Hospital,” Scott said. “Do you know where that it?”

“I know Sittingbourne,” Paul said. “It’s in North Kent.”

“Which isn’t surprising,” Gemma grunted. “Because that’s where we currently are!”

“You need to head west,” Scott said, ignoring Gemma. “I guess follow the signs for London. Do you know where you are?”

“I know where I am,” Verlaine said. “It’s cool. I’ll get you there in plenty-a time.”

Gemma groaned and squeezed Sam’s hand, which made her yelp – but then she felt guilty, because Gemma was obviously in a lot of pain. Sam gazed at her sister, hoping she wasn’t too uncomfortable. This car had awful suspension and the roads around here seemed to contain more craters than the Moon. Sam was amazed that some idiot might be prepared to part with ten grand for this hunk of junk. It certainly hadn’t been designed for treacherous conditions like this. It was big, bulky, and unmanageable. Sam imagined that this was probably how the captain of the Titanic felt just before all that nasty iceberg business.

But at least it should get Gemma to a hospital in plenty of time.

Verlaine pulled off the main road and headed down a country lane. They ascended a hill, descended over the other side, then took a sharp bend at the bottom, where civilisation seemed to disappear. There were no streetlights now, and the bare trees hung over the road, gathering snow on their branches and creating an eerie scene up ahead.

“Is this the way, Verlaine?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, it’s okay. It’s a shortcut. I know this area.”

Sam trusted her boyfriend – he had a superb sense of direction. She rubbed Gemma’s arm, hoping to give her some comfort, then she allowed her mind to dwell on the fact that Verlaine was still currently her boyfriend, not her fiancé.

Foiled again.

Sam realised now what a bitch Rebecca was. Of course, Verlaine should’ve been honest with her about the assault thing, but she understood that he’d been a young man protecting his friend. And it was a
long
time ago. They’d need to have a chat about it – and Sam planned to ask if he had anything else he needed to confess – but there was no way Rebecca would split them up over this. Everyone made stupid mistakes when they were young. Verlaine was great guy with a good heart, and Sam loved him.

“We should be there in about twenty minutes, Gemma,” Verlaine said. “Can you hold them off that long?”

Sam knew Verlaine was joking, but Gemma suddenly let out an animal groan.

“Hurry up, Verlaine,” Sam said.

He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

“We don’t want to end up crashing,” Paul said.

“I know.”

Sam decided all she could do was sit back and patiently let time pass. She threw her attention over her sister, who was grimacing in discomfort. But she assured herself everything would be okay, as long as they could get to the hospital soon.

“I’m sure we’re nearly there, Gem,” she said.

Sam’s renewed optimism was suddenly obscured by a grey-cloud sensation, as the car made a disconcerting grinding noise.

“What’s that?” Gemma asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Sam said.

She willed the noise to stop, but it actually got louder as the whole car started to rattle.

Something clunked beneath them.

Verlaine gripped the wheel like a rodeo rider trying to stay on. He pumped his foot on the accelerator, but the car was rapidly losing speed. Sam hung onto the handrail, refusing to let the T-bird shake her out of her seat.

She listened with growing dread as the engine squealed like a slaughtered pig. It felt as if they were driving through a furrowed field – and it wasn’t just because of the terrible road-surface in this dark lane.

“What’s happening, Verlaine?” Paul said. “Out of petrol?”

“No,” he said. “Something else.”

“Well, what?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll try to keep going. Maybe we can ride it out.”

Sam opened her mouth to remind him that he was actually supposed to be an expert on these things, but the car stole everyone’s attention. It crept forwards another few yards before sputtering to a halt, in the middle of the road, next to a muddy field.

Gemma started to visibly panic. “Oh god, we’re stranded miles from nowhere! It’s snowing a blizzard out there. My babies are coming, I can feel them!”

“No way,” Verlaine said. “I’ll get you to hospital, just hang tight.”

He threw open the door against the wind, popped the hood, then ran around to check what was wrong.

“I’m sure he’ll fix the problem,” Scott said, trying to calm Gemma down. “He’s a great mechanic. Well, obviously you
know
that already.”

“He’d bloody better hurry up,” Gemma shouted. “Or he’s out of a job in the New Year!”

Sam held Gemma’s hand. “I think she’s delirious.”

“No, I’m not!”

Sam glanced through the windshield, hoping to see what was happening, but the hood was obscuring Verlaine.

“Look after Gemma,” Sam said.

She clambered out into the blizzard and ran around to find Verlaine gazing at the engine, seemingly baffled. He was holding his mobile phone over the engine – using it as a flashlight. The snow was landing in his hair and melting. He looked damp and freezing.

“Anything?” she asked.

“It looks fine. I’ve no idea what’s wrong.”

“You’re joking?”

“Do you think I’d joke at a time like this?”

Sam raised her voice against the snow storm. “I don’t know. Apparently there are lots of things you’ve never told me.”

“Not lots of things. Just that. I didn’t want you to hate me – especially after I punched Charlie at his wedding. I thought you’d break up with me for sure.”

“Do you really think I could ever hate you?”

“Don’t you right now?”

“Of course not!”

Verlaine opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of Gemma screaming pulled him back to reality. “Jesus. You don’t think she’s actually giving birth, do you?”

“I hope not.”

He gestured to the car. “Will you try the ignition for me, please, baby?”

“Did you do anything to the engine?”

“No, but maybe if you try it, I can see what the problem is.”

“You just want me to get in the car and not get cold, don’t you?”

He smiled. “Will you?”

“I’ll try the ignition.”

Unsure what else to do, Sam climbed back inside and reached for the key.

“What’s happening?” Paul asked.

“Not much,” she said.

“Anything I can do?”

“I’m not sure.”

She turned the key in the ignition. The engine chuggered and spluttered, coughed and wheezed. Then it died.

Terror prickled Sam’s skin. She pushed it away, and tried the ignition again, jiggling back and forth in her seat to encourage it to start. But nothing.

Sam ignored Gemma’s whimpering and Scott’s attempts to soothe her, as she climbed back out.

“Gemma’s getting cold now the heater’s turned off. I’m worried, Verlaine.”

“Maybe you should call an ambulance. I’m sorry but I don’t know how to get this car started.”

Sam ran back and popped her head into the car. Paul had turned around in the front seat to face Scott and Gemma. Gemma was getting frantic, shouting that the babies were coming. Scott was trying to calm her down, but it wasn’t working.

“I need to get up and walk,” Gemma said.

“No,” Scott said. “You can’t. There’s a blizzard out there.”

“I think we should call an ambulance,” Sam said.

“Good idea.” Paul pulled out his phone and opened the car door. “If I can get a signal out here in the middle of nowhere.”

He stepped out into the snow.

“Paul, don’t go too far away in this weather,” Scott called.

Sam realised that the snow was blizzarding into the car from where she was standing with the door open, so she clambered in and held Gemma’s hand.

Verlaine climbed into the driver’s seat and twisted to face them. “Where’s Paul gone?”

“Ambulance for Gemma,” Sam said. “Anything with the car?”

He turned back and tried the ignition. Nothing happened.

“I don’t want to alarm you,” Scott said. “But I think Gemma’s having her babies.”

“She can’t,” Sam said. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Gemma screamed and threw her head back. .

Scott drew Gemma against himself, so she could lie in his arms. “I think one of us is going to have to do this, Sam.”

“
I
can’t! Not me!”

“She’s your sister,” Paul’s voice said.

Sam glanced up at where Paul was now poking his head into the front passenger door.

“Is the ambulance coming?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let’s just wait. It can’t be long.”

Gemma screamed again. “You need to fucking do this, Sam!”

“I’ll come round and help you,” Paul said.

He closed the passenger door, jogged around the car, and appeared at the door behind Sam. He opened it slightly and squeezed himself in, trying to keep the cold out.

Sam braced herself. “Okay.”

She leaned over and cautiously eased down her sister’s trousers, pulling them over her ankles. Her knickers were soaked through. Sam didn’t know if it was blood, but her squeamishness and the heavy tension was making her feel lightheaded. She couldn’t do this; no way.

Verlaine suddenly opened the driver’s door and climbed out. “I’ll just check the engine again.”

Sam reached up and peeled off her sister’s underwear. Gemma seemed quite out of it with the pain now, but Scott was telling her to breathe and trying to keep her calm. The swollen sight between Gemma’s thighs made Sam’s stomach churn.

Okay, I can do this.

She rested her hand on Gemma’s thigh, with the intention of inserting a finger to see how far dilated she was.  But her head filled with dizzy swirls as a stream of blood trickled out and down onto the leather seat.

“What’s happening, Sam?” Gemma asked off in the distance.

Sam suddenly felt her temperate soar. She needed to get out of this car. She turned and pushed Paul out the way, then she scrambled out into the snow and felt the world swarm into blackness around her.

Paul dived out the car and managed to grab Sam before she hit the ground.

Verlaine came running over and took her in his arms, leaning her rump up against the car so she slumped against his chest. “What the hell happened? Is she alright?”

“She fainted,” Paul said.

“Why? Sam, can you hear me?”

“Gemma’s giving birth.”

Gemma screamed.

“No! Not in the car!”

“Are you worried about your leather upholstery?”

“Don’t be a fucking moron, of course not! Where’s the ambulance?”

“They said they were on their way. Maybe they can’t get up the ridge.”

“Can
you
do it, Paul?”

Gemma screamed again. Scott’s calm voice tried to soothe her, but things were spiralling out of control. 

Sam started to snuffle back to consciousness in Verlaine’s arms. He gently bent at the knees and lowered them both to the ground, pulling her on top of him to keep her off the snow. 

“It’s okay, baby, just take it slowly.”

“Gemma?” she mumbled.

“It’s okay; Paul’s gonna do it.”

“I don’t know how to deliver a baby!”