by Anna Jacobs
The nurse looked at the patient for confirmation, received a nod and left.
Claire didn’t beat about the bush. ‘Why are you offering to help?’
He shrugged. ‘Because I feel guilty.’
‘You needn’t. As I’ve already admitted, the accident was my own fault. And Helly’s.’
‘Mr Morgan’s a kind person, Mum. Helly likes him and so do I.’ The child lifted her mother’s hand, pressing it against her cheek for a moment. ‘I think we should go and stay with him. We’d be safe there.’
It was ridiculous how touched Luke was by the child’s simple, tender gesture with her mother’s hand. And by the expression of love in the woman’s eyes as she turned to look at her daughter.
‘I don’t know – can’t seem to think straight.’ She moved her head restlessly and winced again.
He intervened. ‘Then stop trying to think and leave everything to Gabby and me.’
She closed her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t. But just for tonight, if it’s not too much trouble.’
He waited a couple of minutes, but she didn’t open her eyes again, so he put one finger to his lips and gestured to the child to come away from the bed. This part of A&E consisted of a line of beds in curtained-off spaces, and the staff looked to be very busy. What a wonderful job these people did!
‘We’ll let your mother sleep for an hour or so, Gabby, to give her time to recover properly, then we’ll come back and get her. We’ll see if we can find something to eat while we wait and I’ll phone my daughter again to let her know I’ll be even later than I thought.’
They spoke to the nurse, then went back into reception. The man who was now behind the counter said there were a few shops just across the car park where they could get something to eat.
Luke went to the entrance and stared outside. The small row of shops was only about a hundred yards away. Two or three of them had their lights on and were clearly still open. He was starving hungry and one of the shops was so brightly lit he could read the sign. ‘Do you like pizza, Gabby?’
‘I love pizzas. Mum makes them for us sometimes.’
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Yes. But I can manage if you can’t afford to buy one. The best way when you’re hungry is to think of something else.’
What sort of life had she led? ‘You don’t need to manage without. I can definitely afford pizza and I’m ravenous. We’ll share one. Come on. I think the rain has stopped for the moment.’ Again, he held out one hand without thinking and she took it immediately.
No one called after them to stop. No one here cared. And he knew he’d never hurt a child.
They went inside the shop and found another scrubby little Christmas tree winking at them from a corner and some elderly and rather dusty tinsel draped across the inside of the window.
Gabby stopped, head on one side. ‘I’ll save a piece of my pizza for Helly, if you don’t mind, Mr Morgan. She’ll be hungry, too.’
Damned if that didn’t bring a lump into his throat as well. ‘We’ll get enough to give her a share, don’t worry. And call me Luke. What toppings do you like?’
‘Anything. We can’t afford to be fussy.’
The dog wasn’t fussy, either. She gulped down a couple of pieces of pizza, obligingly peed on the grass when told to ‘be a good girl’, lapped up some water from a rainwater puddle then got back into his car.
He hoped Gabby hadn’t seen him wince as Helly scrabbled her paws on his leather upholstery, but he had nowhere else to keep the creature. Perhaps she wouldn’t have actually scratched the leather, just dirtied it.
He’d have the car detailed once this had been sorted out. Definitely. Damp dog was not his favourite perfume and there was mud scattered around too.
When Claire opened her eyes again, she was alone in a hospital bed. Terror rose in her as she looked round. Where was Gabby? Had they taken her away? She saw a bell and rang it, then rang it again impatiently.
The nurse came into the cubicle, took her pulse, examined her eyes and said dubiously, ‘Your colour’s a little better now, but you really ought to stay in here overnight.’
‘Where’s my daughter?’
‘She went out into the waiting room with your husband. He’s very good with her, isn’t he?’
‘Um – yes.’ She’d better not reveal how little she knew about him, Claire decided, or they might call social services after all. If he could get her out of here, she’d persuade him to take her home to get some clean clothes, then refuse to go anywhere else. He didn’t look like a violent man, though, had been really nice with Gabby.
She and her daughter would manage till the shoulder got better. They always did. Yes, that would be her best plan. Get him to take her home, then thank him and send him on his way.
The nurse came back with a plastic cup of water. ‘Time for another painkiller.’
Claire hesitated, but the shoulder did hurt, so she swallowed it.
Her daughter came back a short time later with her usual breathless rush, but it was the stranger Claire watched as she listened to the tale of the pizza and how he’d bought an extra-large one so as to have some left for Helly, who had wolfed her share down and then been a good girl again on the hospital lawn.
‘You’ve been very kind,’ she told him when there was a break in Gabby’s recital.
He shrugged. ‘Least I could do.’
‘We’ll be all right now, though.’ She struggled to sit up in bed and it was harder than she’d expected because her shoulder hurt when she tried to put any weight on that arm. The next few days were going to be – challenging.
‘You’re definitely going to need help for a while, Mrs Small. Look, I’m not offering you the earth, just a bed for the night.’ He studied her face and amended that to, ‘Maybe even for two nights. Just think how virtuous that’ll make me feel!’
She shook her head in a gesture of blind panic. ‘I can’t pay you back and – we don’t know you – and—’
‘Helly likes him a lot,’ Gabby said. ‘She licked his nose. You always say she’s a good judge of people.’
Luke grinned. ‘I wouldn’t set a lot of store by that. I’d just fed her a big chunk of pizza.’
‘I’m surprised she took food from you.’
‘Most dogs like pizza – given half a chance.’
‘Helly doesn’t usually like men, though,’ Gabby said and before Claire could stop her, she’d added, ‘My dad used to kick her, you see.’
‘Ah. Well she must have realised that I’m not the sort of person who kicks dogs, or anything else, for that matter.’
Claire could tell that he was putting the pieces together to form a picture of their life. Well, she didn’t want his pity, thank you very much. She could manage. She would manage. When her head stopped thumping and she could see clearly. She just had to get home.
Her shoulder was throbbing. She wished this painkiller would kick in.
What a mess this was!
Luke waited and when the injured woman didn’t seem to know what to say or do, he spoke gently. ‘I can understand why you’re dubious about accepting my hospitality, Mrs Small. You’re worried that I might have ulterior motives – and might use violence to enforce my, er, wishes?’
He watched her hesitate then nod. Her face still had no colour in it at all, but her hair did. Some of it was dry now, showing a lovely reddish gold, and it was long enough to hang down her back, with tendrils curling round her gaunt face. In fact she’d have fitted well in an art nouveau painting, wearing a long robe and reaching out towards a handsome knight.
He tried to think how to reassure her. ‘Actually, you won’t be alone with me. My daughter will be there as well. Dee’s sixteen.’
He watched Mrs Small rub her temple with those long, elegant fingers. Was she going to faint on him? Or was she thinking it over?
If you couldn’t help someone in trouble, you weren’t worth much, were you, especially so near to Christmas. He made a last attempt. ‘I don�
�t think you have much choice, actually. It’s either let the hospital take care of you and social services find somewhere for Gabby, or else allow me and my daughter to do it. Dee’s sixteen. She’ll make a good chaperone.’
After a long silence and more study of his face, she said, ‘Thank you, then. Gabby and I will accept your kind offer. But we’ll need to go to my home first to pick up some clothes and dog food.’
‘Now you’re being sensible. I’ll call the nurse in and she can help you get ready to leave.’
‘Your husband’s a nice guy,’ the young nurse said as she helped Claire to the bathroom.
They all kept assuming Luke was her husband. She couldn’t be bothered to explain yet again who he was. She was feeling so weary.
‘Good-looking for his age, too.’
For his age? He didn’t look all that old to Claire. She was thirty-four, and he was probably few years older. Well, he must be if he had a daughter of sixteen. But that still wasn’t old.
And he was kind. No question about that. He’d looked after Gabby, let their muddy dog sit in his car and bought them a pizza. Yes, the nurse was right. He was a nice man. As far as anyone could tell, she added mentally. You could never be totally certain.
She felt bad that she was planning to cheat him and stay in her own home. But she was desperate to get out of here before anyone started asking awkward questions or asking for her ID, which would leave a trail for someone to follow. She’d told them her purse had been left behind and given them a wrong date of birth, saying she’d phone her details through.
Luckily there had been several other people brought in with urgent problems and they hadn’t had time to pursue the matter.
Luke was her best chance to escape, her only chance probably.
She yawned and lay quietly, trying to make plans. As they left the hospital she mustn’t do anything that drew attention to them and made people remember them. She and Gabby seemed to have got away from her ex this time. It had been several months without hearing from him.
She didn’t think she could face another of those sudden midnight moves – or afford one, either. It’d have to be a women’s refuge if he caught up with them again, and she hated the thought of that.
After Gabby had been born, Martin had become more and more difficult to live with. That child was the only good thing to come of her marriage, so she’d tried to make it work. Tried too hard. She should have left him years ago. When he started thumping her, however, that had been the final straw.
She wasn’t getting together with him again, whatever he said about a child needing two parents, whatever his mother said. They were divorced and were staying divorced.
She yawned, feeling suddenly so sleepy it was hard to keep her eyes open let alone answer any more questions.
Chapter Three
The nurse in charge of Claire’s discharge insisted on an orderly taking her out to Luke’s car in a wheelchair.
When they reached it, Luke held open a door for Gabby to join the dog in the back. He couldn’t help grimacing as he looked at the mess the hairy monster had already made.
Claire let him help her out of the wheelchair and into the front seat, lying back with that limp, boneless air people get when they’ve pushed themselves to their uttermost limit.
She didn’t attempt to fasten her seat belt so he did it for her. Her eyes were closed and he wasn’t sure whether she was awake or asleep. Should she have stayed in hospital overnight? Who knew? But he’d keep a careful eye on her, make sure she recovered properly, and he’d call for help if there were the slightest worry about her condition.
He set off, trying to drive as smoothly as possible. Claire hadn’t opened her eyes since they left, well, not that he’d seen, and he’d glanced at her a few times at traffic lights and junctions, so it was Gabby who directed him to her home once they reached Bartons End. The house was a bungalow on the opposite side of the village from where he’d once lived, in the scruffy area near some workshops and small businesses. It was rather isolated now because all the other houses nearby had been pulled down and new ones were being built on the cleared space.
When he stopped, he studied Mrs Small. Her eyes were still closed and as far as he could tell, she hadn’t moved since she got into the car.
He looked at the house again. It was a seedy little bungalow with a roof which was sagging in parts. The whole place looked ready to fall down in the first strong wind. Some of the nearby row of industrial units looked to be deserted. Perhaps they were going to be pulled down too. The nearest one had a faded sign saying ‘Electrical Repairs’. There were no lights showing in any of them except for what seemed to be security lights.
Only half of the front fence of the house was still standing and there was a makeshift fence across the side of it, consisting of a piece of rusty corrugated iron propped up by a pile of bricks. It more or less connected with a side fence which wasn’t in much better condition. The landlord should be ashamed of letting the place get into this state.
There was a modest car parked on some gravel in front of the house, a bit of a rust bucket but the model was known for lasting many years. He was surprised this one had got through its last MOT test in that condition, though.
He came to a decision and put one finger on his lips, signalling to Gabby to be quiet before he let her and the dog out of the back of the car. Mrs Small muttered something in her sleep as the cooler air wafted in but she still didn’t come fully awake.
‘I think it’d be better for your mother to carry on sleeping, Gabby. Do you have a key to the house?’
‘Yes.’ She fished at her neck and pulled out a chain with a key attached.
‘Can you help me pack some clothes for you both?’ he said in a low voice as they stood in the narrow hall.
‘Yes. I’m—’
‘Shh! Don’t wake your mum.’
She nodded and lowered her voice. ‘I’m good at packing in a hurry. We’ve practised doing it. Shall I pack all our clothes in case anyone breaks in again, or just a few?’
‘You’ve had a break-in?’
‘Yes. But Mum had the new computer in the car because she was bringing it home that day, and they didn’t take the old one, only pushed it onto the floor.’ She wrinkled her neat little nose. ‘They took some of our food, though, and they made a terrible mess with the rest. Mum cried after I’d gone to bed. I heard her.’
Dear heaven, how the other half live! he thought. It might do Dee good to take note of this child’s cheerful acceptance of adversity.
‘Better pack all your clothes if you can, Gabby. They’ll be safer and I’ve plenty of room at my place.’
He walked round inside the house. Everything was clean but painfully bare, with only the basic furniture needed, the sort of stuff you picked up free from charity shops or from street verges. In the office there was a state-of-the-art computer and printer sitting on an old wooden table and another old garden table holding some papers and folders.
There were no Christmas decorations anywhere, except for a child’s drawing on the fridge door and one piece of tinsel on Gabby’s bedroom door.
He frowned as he looked at the computer. They couldn’t leave that here. Someone might steal it. You’d only have to bump against that flimsy front door to push it in. There wasn’t even a decent bolt on the inside.
As he scanned the rest of the room, he saw the boxes in which the computer had been delivered piled neatly in a corner and nodded in satisfaction. It’d be a close fit, but his car had a large boot.
He went to find the child. ‘I’ll pack all the computer stuff in the boxes while you pack your things, Gabby, toys as well as clothes.’ Something told him she wouldn’t have a lot of toys. ‘Then start on your mother’s clothes. I’ll check that the drawers and cupboards are clear afterwards.’ She nodded.
He went to the front door which he’d left open, in spite of the cold, to peep out at Claire, but she was still fast asleep, so he went back inside and set to work t
o disconnect the computer.
The dog sat and watched him, wagging her tail every time he looked her way.
‘It’s all your fault, Helly!’ he said, trying to be severe. But who can stay severe when a furry hound is grinning at you and coming across occasionally to lick your hand and thump her tail against your leg. He certainly couldn’t.
Gabby reappeared. ‘I’ve packed my stuff and put Mum’s things out on the bed, but her suitcase zip broke last time we moved so what do I put them in?’
She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she could pack quickly. ‘Just let me put the printer in this box.’
The zip of the suitcase was beyond repair, but he could perhaps tie it shut. He felt like a voyeur as he inspected Claire’s collection of clothes. Faded cotton, most of them. Clean, neatly folded but well worn. ‘Nightdress? Toilet things?’
She giggled. ‘Oops! I forgot! The nightdress is under the pillow – here you are. I’ve emptied all the drawers. I’ll get the toothpaste and other things from the bathroom next. I can put them in the waste paper basket. That’s what we did when we moved last time.’
He stared at the pitifully small piles of clothes on the bed. Surely there were other garments? No. The wardrobe was empty. His ex-wife’s clothes had taken up three-quarters of their huge walk-in wardrobe and overflowed into a spare room. These wouldn’t even fill a small wardrobe. ‘I’ll just check to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything.’
‘Mum does that when I help her pack. But I don’t forget. I know if I leave anything behind, I can’t come back for it.’
‘Right.’ He laid the clothes in the suitcase and tied some string round it to keep the lid more or less closed, then carried it awkwardly out to the car.
On the way back in he picked up a letter he’d noticed lying behind the front door to add to the pile of papers from the office. He couldn’t help seeing the name on it. ‘Who is this for?’