Prima Donna by Karen Swan Page B

amused. ‘I wasn’t judging her by the state of her toenails.’
    Sophie smiled, embarrassed to have been such a Rottweiler. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘Don’t be. It’s sweet,’ he grinned. ‘No, I was looking at her foot because I was wondering if what we’ve done is enough.’
    ‘What you’ve done, you mean,’ Sophie corrected. ‘If it wasn’t for you, her foot could have just been reset any old way, without any consideration for her
career.’
    He shook his head. ‘It’s just all happened so fast. One minute, she’s standing there, looking like a goddess and frightening the life out of me. The next, she’s all
crumpled and defenceless.’ He took Pia’s tiny hand in his and stroked it. ‘I can hardly take it in. I’ve known her less than – what? A week, is it?’
    ‘Five days,’ Sophie murmured. Five days since he’d met her too, but, as ever, that wasn’t the point.
    ‘Five days,’ he repeated, his head cocked to the side as Pia lay in front of him, every inch the Sleeping Beauty. Only Sophie knew this Prince Charming’s kiss wasn’t
going to be enough for a Happy Ever After. Not by a long shot.
    ‘Look, Will,’ Sophie said slowly. ‘I don’t want to . . . uh, put a dampener on things. But you should probably . . . um . . . brace yourself for a rocky response when she
wakes up.’
    Will squinted at her. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Well, she’s been unconscious since they gave her the morphine in St Moritz. She doesn’t even know she’s in England yet, much less in hospital. It’s all going to be
a big shock for her when she comes round. And then the doctor will hit her with the prognosis and God only knows what that’s going to be. Even if she can ever dance again, the surgery means
she’s going to be out of action for a couple of months at least, and she’s going to be an absolute
nightmare
when she hears that. You have no idea,’ Sophie muttered,
shaking her head.
    ‘I understand all that. But why would she take it out on me?’
    ‘Because she’s going to have a lot to thank
you
for,’ Sophie shrugged. ‘And Pia doesn’t like being beholden to anyone. Not even for career-saving
surgery.’
    There was a rap at the door, and a nurse came in.
    ‘I’ve just come to do Miss Soto’s obs,’ she smiled, walking over to the screen and writing down the blood pressure and pulse figures on her chart.
    Mr Rosen came in after her, and smiled at them both.
    ‘Has the patient woken up yet?’ he asked, going straight over to Pia, who was still very obviously unconscious.
    Sophie shook her head and sat back down on the window ledge again.
    Mr Rosen picked up Pia’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Pia, can you hear me?’
    Nothing.
    ‘Can you hear me, Pia? Try to wake up.’
    There was nothing for a long moment; then, softly, Pia groaned.
    ‘Good girl, Pia, that’s it,’ Mr Rosen urged. ‘Wake up now. You’re okay.’
    Pia’s eyelids fluttered, her head moved to the side, away from Will, away from the flat light that now seemed to stream through the window. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
    There was a long silence as her eyes tried to focus, as her mind tried to remember. ‘Where am I?’ she asked finally.
    ‘You’re in hospital, Pia. You had an accident in Switzerland. Do you remember?’
    Pia squinted, confused.
    ‘You’re in England now. My name’s Mr Rosen. Your director, Mr Baudrand, asked me to look after you.’
    ‘Baudrand . . .’ Pia repeated, more awake now, her eyes focusing. She looked at the doctor and Sophie saw the terror in her eyes.
    ‘It’s okay, it’s okay now,’ he soothed. ‘There’s nothing to be frightened of, Pia. You came in with a severe crush injury to your right foot. There were
fractures to the first, second and fifth metatarsal bones, with what we call a Lisfranc dislocation of the first metatarsal.’
    ‘A what?’ Pia looked around, distressed, for Sophie. She saw Will first.
    ‘It’s okay, Pia, I’m here,’ Sophie said, springing