NECESITO AYUDA

'Necesito ayuda...'

Ken was already swimming over to an elderly man who was waving his arms. Beside him on a pedale there was a woman who was sitting up but even from here Kylie could see she was in trouble. She was clutching her chest and leaning forward.

Others were coming over to assist and Ken was calling out to a woman standing on the beach to assist and call for an ambulance.

He called for Kylie to go to the shore. 'In my backpack!' He shouted. 'There's a pack...'

At least someone was organised today.

Kylie raced up the beach as a group of men steered the pedalo in and then Carried the woman to the shore.

She was still sitting up, Kylie noted as she shook the contents of his backpack out.

There it was, a small pack but as she went to stuff the contents she had tipped out back inside, her hand closed on a small bump in his wallet.

A circular bump.

She shook her head and ran back towards the gathered crowd.

'Thanks...'

She opened the pack. There were gloves, a mouth guard and airway... There was even a small kit for IV access and she watched his very steady hands slip a needle in, all the while reassuring the woman, who was clammy and sweaty, that she would be okay.

It should feel very different to be out in the middle of nowhere rather than in the calm efficiency of the control department, yet he had everything under control— a few beachgoers were holding their towels to shade the woman from the fierce afternoon sun and Ken wiped her face with a cloth soaked in bottled water and spoke calming words in Spanish.

Kylie noticed he was holding the woman's wrist as he spoke, keeping a constant watch on her pulse. As she glanced down at Ken's hand Kylie wondered if she had been blind or simply not looked, because now she could see the slight pinkness of a ring mark on his suntanned sick.

She felt a bit sick.

In the distance she could hear sirens and, even if the worst happened now and the lady went into cardiac arrest, assistance and equipment were just a few moments away.

The paramedics were just as efficient as they were back home and rather more used to retrieving heavy patients from a sun—drenched sandy beach than they would be in London and other places as well.

They spoke at length with Ken as they did the ECG tracing and admimistered analgesia and generally made the woman more comfortable before transferring her onto the stretcher.

The men all carried the stretcher up the beach until they let legs down on the stony ground.

Her heart was racing, not from the mild drama bit from what she had thought she had felt.

A wedding ring?

Surely not, Kylie thought.

But why not? another voice in her head asked.

Why the hell not?

'Let's grab our things and head back,' Ken said, and she nodded and tried not to shrug him off as his arm went around her waist.

She didn't know what to say to him. She just didn't know how to speak.

'You've caught the sun,' he commented as they drove back to hotel.

'I know,' she said. Her shoulders were stinging but not as much as her thoughts.

'Are you okay?' Ken checked.

'Of course.' She cleared her throat. 'It was just a bit upsetting.'

'What?' He glanced over. 'She had chest pain.'

Oh, that's right. Kylie remembered the man she had disliked before she had completely fallen under his spell. He was arrogant, dismissive and rather mean.

'It's different without all the equipment...'

He didn't comment. Chest pain was such a routine part of his day and he assumed it was the same for her.

'She will be fine,' he said, but she couldn't answer.

They were back in the elevators and she went to push the button for her floor but his hand stopped her and he pushed his.

Arrogant bastard, she thought this time.

Still, she wanted to be sure so she went with him to his hotel room and, completely at ease, he dropped his clothes and headed for the shower.

She didn't join him.

He washes off the sand and was glad that she hadn't come in. He needed to think.

Was he going to ask again that she stay longer?

And if she couldn't, was he going to ask her to see her again?

'What time is your flight?' he called from the shower.

'Seven,' she answered, and then she did something most unusual for her. She wasn't a noisy person yet she was about to do this.

She went into his bag and pulled out his wallet and opened it, and she didn't need to dig for the ring to find her answer. Instead, She pulled out a picture.

Kylie knew her fashion and yep, this was pretty recent.

Ken made a lovely groom.

He also made a dark lover because when she heard his voice she jumped.

'I wish you hadn't done that, Kylie.'

He stood with a towel around his waist, watching as she tucked the photo back in. In his mind he was conflicted.

Tell her.

No.

Because then the bubble burst and everything they had found this weekend dispersed.

Yes, he could explain.

He simply wasn't ready to.

If he was going to tell her, then it would be in his own time.

And their time had ran out.

He didn't like to snoop.

'Do you know what, Ken?' She looked up and smiled at him.

Yes, that hurt.

The delicious scent of him, fresh from the shower, was reaching her now and she practically held her breath as she gave a grim smile. 'I wish I hadn't done that either.'

She tossed the wallet on the bed and walked passed him.

And he held the door, opened it and let her out.

Kylie was finally back home. She arrived at the airport and, of course, because she didn't Need it now, her Suitcase was amongst the first to come out.

Instead of going home, though, she found herself on a search of the shops and thankfully found Alora's dress.

They met at the canteen on Monday morning and Kylie got back her photo while Alora received the second version of her white dress.

'Thank you so much for this.' Alora beamed as she peered into the bag. 'It's so beautiful, isn't it? I know I probably shouldn't wear white for the christening...'

'It's not a wedding,' Kylie said. 'You don't have to worry about offending the bride.'

She looked at the dress as Alora pulled out a corner and she felt her throat go tight. Hers, she knew, should have been thrown straight into the garbage but instead she'd thrown it into the back of her wardrobe.

No, she wanted to say to Alora, I did not have sexual relations with that married man.

Oh, help.

She must certainly had.

'So how was it?' Alora asked.

'It was great,' Kylie said. 'Very informative.'

'About what?'

'Well,' she said, but all she could think and remember was the moment Ken had walked into the room and how he had stood with his arms folded at the back.

'And how was the museum?'

Kylie frowned.

'You said you were going to do some sightseeing and go to the museum, maybe get a bit of inspiration for your bedroom.'

As Kylie's cheeks burned pink, she wondered if her friend was a witch.

'Well, did you?'

'Did I what?'

'Get inspiration for the bedroom?' Alora raised an eyebrow.

'No.'

'Oh.'

'And no shopping for stuffed donkeys, I see.'

'I was working, Alora.'

'Of course you were.' Alora smirked.

She knew, Kylie was quite sure.

Had she examined things more carefully at the time, some flags might have been raised. perhaps it should have been obvious, Kylie thought, he was married. Yet his reluctance to share personal information hadn't been an issue at the time; instead, it had felt as if they were chasing the same thing—fun, pleasure, grabbing the moment and running with it.

It had started to feel different at collserola, though.

Kylie couldn't properly explain it but there she had started to want more than just the weekend. There, watching the sunrise, there had been a shift and she had felt him pensive beside her and for a moment, just a moment, she had felt as if time might not have been running out for them.

And that night, her second without him, Kylie did what she'd tried not to because it hurt too much —she remembered their kiss in the sea. For a while there she'd thought she'd be staying.

Not for ever.

Just that something had been starting.

Something far bigger than either had expected to find.

Yet, as guilty as she felt about the weekend, Kylie didn't feel used—after all, she had gone along with the anonymity that had been offered. She had enjoyed embracing her femininity, going out and doing things she never would have done had Ken not been there.

And, even though she did her level best to forget him, their time together could not be undone and it was as if he had set off a little chain reaction, because colour started coming back into her life.

The following Sunday Kylie wore another new dress to the twin's christening, a burnt orange and red paisley wraparound dress, and her hair was worn down and curly.

George had called to apologise and explain that his mother had been ill and kylie had had a diffcult time explaining to him that, no, she wasn't coming and that what he did was not the reason she won't come to his place again. 'I like it curly, George,' Kylie said. 'Of course I will be in again...'

Just not yet.