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by Derick Parsons


  Kate would not even deign to answer this nonsense. Besides, in spite of the turn her day had taken she had other things on her mind. There was a very simple remedy for stress and uncertainty, and she knew just what she needed. And it was a lot less fattening than pies and chocolate. After making very sure that all the curtains were very tightly closed she threw off those awful, borrowed clothes and walked into the bedroom wearing little more than a smile. She glanced back at him from under lowered eyelids and said demurely, ‘Well, my lifestyle isn’t half active enough. Come and help me burn some off the calories off before we eat.’

  As ever, Peter was not slow to respond. In fact he was gratifyingly eager, which gave her ego a not unwelcome boost too. After the lovemaking, which was warm and familiar and precisely what Kate needed just then, she had the unaccustomed luxury of taking a bubble-bath while someone else cooked dinner for her. A bath that restored her enough to make her put the phone on the hook before eating, albeit without much enthusiasm. In the end she could only eat about a quarter of the massive portion of steak and mashed potato he finally dished up in front of her -and even that felt like it was adding at least half a stone to her weight- but being waited on was still a rare treat. Although he did insist on her doing the washing up. Cooking, it seemed, was acceptable male work in his mind; washing-up clearly was not.

  To make up for this chauvinism he lit a fire, and with the minimal housework completed it was another unexpected pleasure to curl up with him in front of a real fire. At length, though, he broke the blessed peace by saying, ‘This is what we’ve both been missing out on all these months, you know.’

  She quickly raised a slender hand to his lips and said softly, ‘I thought you didn’t want to talk about us at all? Let’s just sit here for a while and enjoy it. It won’t be for long, I’m afraid. I have to write up my case notes and I want to listen to the tapes of my sessions with Grainne Riordan again. And I have to ring the hospital to find out how Sean’s progressing. So let’s just sit and enjoy an hour of peace and quiet, okay?’

  And she did not add, And please don’t bug me about the future!

  He did not. In fact he subsided into silence, and soon the situation was pretty much idyllic, which was why Kate was not in the least surprised when the stillness was shattered by the ringing of the phone. She resignedly got to her feet, praying it was not more reporters, and answered it with a guarded, ‘Hello?’

  A low, husky voice whispered, ‘You got away lightly the other night, bitch! If you don’t run back to England you’re going to die!’

  The receiver clicked and he was gone, leaving Kate standing there with the phone in her hand and a blank, shocked expression on her face.

  Peter got to his feet, a concerned look on his face as he saw her pale, aghast expression. And he demanded, ‘What’s the matter? Who was that?’

  Kate told him what the man had said, and his expression became savage, ‘This is getting ridiculous! Someone has got to put a stop to this!’ He put the phone to his ear as if not quite believing that the caller was actually gone. ‘Did you recognise the voice?’

  Kate shook her head in numb, confused misery, ‘It was disguised.’ She paused, ‘Mind you, there was something about it…’ She shook her head tearfully, ‘I don’t know, I just don’t know!’

  Peter put his arms around her, and she leaned back against his broad chest. He kissed her cheek gently, ‘You’ll have to tell the police, get them to record any future calls. Perhaps they could put a trace on the line or something.’

  Kate nodded, and clicked down the bar on the phone before taking the receiver from his hand. She dialled the operator and asked to be put through to Detective Headquarters in the Phoenix Park. Mullins had gone home long before but she left a message on his machine detailing the call she had just received. She also mentioned that the file Morrison had intended to collect from her was waiting for him at the porter’s desk in Trinity. She replaced the receiver, and jumped when it rang again immediately, with her hand still on it. She turned and looked at Peter with a scared expression on her face that made her look like a lost child, and he put a hand on her shoulder and said grimly, ‘I’ll deal with this.’

  Kate’s expression firmed up as she returned from wherever she had momentarily retreated, and she shook her head, ‘I’m a big girl now, Pete; I can handle it.’ He frowned at her in concern but she turned him away with a gentle touch to his cheek before picking up the phone and snapping, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Kate?’ It was Michael Riordan, ‘Hi, how are you?’ He paused, and when she made no immediate response added, ‘Is something wrong?’

  Kate shook her head, still feeling shell-shocked. Unconsciously she turned her back on Peter and moved away from him, ‘No, Michael, I’m fine, it’s just been one hell of a day.’

  ‘Well, let me help you forget your worries. How about dinner tonight at the best restaurant in Dublin?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I’ve already eaten, thanks.’ Another time she might have laughed aloud; that had to be the understatement of the year. Except she didn’t feel much like laughing right now.

  There was a silence, then, ‘Do I take it then that I’m not forgiven?’

  ‘What? Oh. No, it’s nothing to do with that. To be honest, so much has happened in the last few days that I’d almost forgotten about that.’

  ‘So what is it then? I don’t like pursuing people or appearing pushy but I really thought we could have something good together.’

  Kate sighed, ‘It isn’t that simple. Life never is. Not mine, anyway, and especially not at the moment. I like you, Michael, but I don’t want a relationship with you. Besides, the truth is that my ex-boyfriend is here with me right now. He’s over from England and he’s staying with me for a few days, perhaps until the bastard who attacked me is caught.’

  ‘I see,’ he said softly, ‘So I’m surplus to requirements now that he’s back on the scene, is that it?’

  ‘Don’t be childish, Michael,’ she said tiredly, ‘it doesn’t suit you. It isn’t like that at all. Peter and I have a long history together, and he’s always been there when I’ve needed him. Like now.’

  ‘You’re back together?’

  ‘No. Well, I don’t know.’ And then, acutely conscious of Peter standing behind her and speaking more to him than to Michael, she added, ‘Probably not. This might just be a last hurrah. But even if we split up again there seem to be things still unresolved between us that need to be worked out before either of us can get on with our lives.’

  There was a long silence and Kate held her breath; had she hurt him? Peter, that was; an ego like Michael’s was more than capable of withstanding a rejection, and she wasn’t interested in his reaction. It was the silently listening Peter that mattered. However, causing even minor pain, to anyone, was not exactly a thrill for her so to mollify Michael she added, ‘There is some good news though, about Grainne. She had another episode today that I think suggests she’s starting to engage more with reality. In fact, I think she’s ready to start responding to therapy, and with luck really could be well again someday. Perhaps in as little as a year. I really am that hopeful.’ She was perhaps exaggerating a little but it was in a good cause and seemed to have the desired effect.

  ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard in a very long time,’ he said quietly, ‘Do you really think she could be well again in a year? I could have my little girl back?’

  ‘Well, maybe I’m being over-sanguine but it’s possible,’ said Kate with a brightness she didn’t feel, conscious as she was of Peter’s still presence behind her, and the eyes she could feel boring into her back, ‘I think she’s almost ready to start talking, to let out long repressed memories. And that’s a large part of the battle. Talking about old traumas is a bit like lancing a boil; it lets the poison out and allows healing to begin.’

  ‘Thank you. You’ve no idea how much this means to me,’ said Michael in the same quiet tone, ‘But listen, I’d better let you go. You have company and
I have things to do.’

  Like finding a new dinner- and bed-mate for the evening? It wouldn’t have surprised her, but having just turned him down in favour of another man she couldn’t really complain if that’s what he had in mind.

  ‘Me too. Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.’

  Peter had taken a step back and now Kate put down the phone and slowly turned to face him, hardly able to meet his eyes. He was looking at her calmly and now raised his eyebrows and said, ‘Well?’

  ‘Michael Riordan,’ explained Kate nervously, ‘My patient’s father.’

  ‘So I gathered. Do I also take it that the newspaper stories weren’t lying. That you have been seeing him? Sleeping with him?’

  Kate took a very deep breath, ‘We had dinner together a couple of times. And... Well, I’m sorry but there’s no easy way to say this. We... yes, we slept together. Once.’

  Peter’s face was an unyielding mask, giving nothing away, ‘I see. When?’

  Kate shrugged, ‘A few days ago.’

  Peter was silent for several moments and then said, ‘Everyone’s heard of Michael Riordan, Ireland’s answer to Superman, the man who’s going to save us all and lead us out of recession. Not that he’s achieved much in that line yet. I read in the papers about his meteoric rise to political power, and how no one can explain it, but I guess he’s just a quick worker. In every department.’

  Kate felt a flash of resentment but bit back the angry retort that rose to her lips when she saw the pain in his eyes. For all his size and strength, for all his physical toughness, she had hurt him in a way no one else could. But in spite of her guilt there was still an edge to her voice as she said, ‘We were finished, you know. Living in different countries, in fact. Both of us were free to do whatever we wanted, with anyone we chose.’

  ‘I know,’ he said simply, ‘I’m not criticising you, or complaining. You were and are free to do whatever you please. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.’

  There was no answer to that, not a single thing she could think of to reply. After a long pause she finally said, ‘I am sorry. You know I didn’t intend to hurt you. I didn’t even know you were coming back to Ireland, much less that…that anything would happen between us again.’

  He held up a hand to stop her and subsided tiredly onto the sofa, ‘I know, I know. I know how the rest of the story goes. You’ve nothing to be sorry for, right? Like you said, we were finished. Maybe we should have stayed finished. But anything you did while we were apart is your business, and has nothing to do with me. And vice versa.’

  That reminded Kate uncomfortably of the episode with Rachel, and how she had felt just on seeing them walking down the street together, and another wave of guilt shook her. Neither of them spoke for some time, then Kate said, ‘Perhaps you should just go.’

  He shot her an angry look, ‘With a maniac attacking you at work and ringing you up at home to threaten you? Are you kidding me? I’ll be sticking as close to you as ever, at least for tonight. Maybe tomorrow you can arrange to stay somewhere else, or have someone else stay here. But for tonight at least I’ll be staying here. On the couch.’

  Kate sighed, not far from tears; why did her personal life always have to go to shit? Especially when they had just been so happy? But although she had avoided the truth she couldn’t have lied to him; that would have been just begging for worse trouble in the future.

  ‘I don’t even know why I did it,’ she said softly, ‘And now I’m so sorry I did. If I could take it back I would. But I can’t. Anyone can make a mistake, you know.’

  ‘If it was a mistake,’ he said heavily, not looking at her but staring into the fire instead, ‘Perhaps this is the mistake. Maybe you’d be better off with this Riordan fellow. Certainly he can offer you far more in the way of wealth and position than I ever could. But you could have told me before we...got back together. You should have told me. After all, you said that the Sunday News article was all lies!’

  ‘Yes,’ she said simply, ‘I know. That story was all lies; nothing happened that night. Or since. It happened before that. But I should have told you about it.’ And in truth she didn’t know why she hadn’t told him earlier. She had told herself it was because she hadn’t wanted to ruin that perfect night they had, but was that the truth? And if so, why had she spoken like that to Michael now, knowing that Peter could hear every word? Surely she hadn’t wanted to drive him away again? Was she that screwed up, that self-destructive?

  He turned away, his face a hard mask, and Kate, knowing words could only make the situation worse, went into the kitchen and began desultorily looking through her file on Grainne. But it was impossible to concentrate, and guilt kept making her heart sink right into her boots. And underlying all her uneasiness was another, far simpler fear; who had just rung her and threatened her with death? Her number was in the phonebook so it could have been just some nut getting in on the act but she very much feared it wasn’t.

  After listening to tapes of the Sarah McGrath therapy sessions, though she only gave half her mind to them, she rang the hospital to see how Sean was. And that, at least, brought some good news; he was out of the high risk ward and recovering well. With a lighter heart Kate returned to Grainne’s file but found nothing useful there and after a fruitless hour she gave up and went to bed. Alone, and hardly able to look at Peter as she passed him, still silently sitting on the sofa glaring into the fire. Or couch, as he insisted on calling it. Funny; why should such a foolish thought make her feel as if her heart was breaking? She undressed with slow sorrow, remembering how he had disrobed her earlier. God, what a difference a couple of hours could make. Or a single phone call. She got into the bed, determined not think about anything at all. But without him there the bed was even bigger than she remembered, and far lonelier. And although it was undoubtedly foolish, and she hated herself for doing it, she couldn’t help but cry a little before she fell asleep.

  The shrill ringing of her mobile woke Kate from the uneasy sleep she had eventually drifted into and she stirred and rolled over. But before she could get out of the bed she heard Peter’s deep voice saying sharply, suspiciously, ‘Hello? Who is this?’

  Suddenly she was fully awake, the memory of the earlier phone call sharp and clear in her mind. But Peter’s voice quickly lost its hostility and he sounded confused as he said, ‘I see. Okay, Trev, talk to you later.’

  Trev? Had he really said Trev? Kate looked at the clock on the bedside table; it was almost four in the morning! What the hell was going on?

  Peter came quietly into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, ‘Kate?’

  His voice was barely a whisper but she was wide awake and said sharply, ‘What is it? Is there something wrong with Trevor?’

  ‘No, nothing like that,’ he said softly, ‘But there’s been a fire at Deacon House.’

  Kate sat up, her eyes wide in the faint light coming in from the sitting-room, ‘Is Grainne all right?’

  ‘Yes, she’s fine.’ he said quickly, to reassure her, before continuing reluctantly, ‘though it looks as though the fire started near, if not in, her room. Actually, according to Trev it looks as though she might have started it.’

  Kate closed her eyes, ‘Oh, no. This is all my fault! I should have expected something like this after the way she was with me earlier!’

  Peter took her hand, ‘Come on, Kate, you couldn’t have known she’d do something like this! Besides, it sounds as if hardly any damage was done.’

  ‘No? Well, maybe not. But I should have known. Instead of harping on the fact that she was starting to engage with reality I should have considered the effect her returning memories would have on her. Especially after what she did to herself today. I mean, she attempted suicide before, for God’s sake!’

  Peter gripped her bare shoulders and gave her a little shake, ‘Stop it! You did warn Trev to keep extra surveillance on her, he told me so! And it isn’t even proven yet that she started the fire. The camera station isn’t manned all
night and the fire started while the security guard was making his rounds. So they have no idea who lit it. It might have nothing to do with her at all!’

  ‘Was anyone else hurt?’ asked Kate in a dull, weary voice.

  Peter hesitated, ‘One or two people suffered from smoke inhalation, but not seriously. Don’t beat yourself up about this; Kate, security and patient welfare at Deacon House aren’t your responsibility! You did your part when you warned Trev to keep a special eye on her. You know it and he knows it because he said as much to me.’

  Kate closed her eyes, ‘I suppose so. Thank God no one was killed, at least.’

  ‘Listen, go back to sleep. Trev was a fool to ring in the middle of the night like that. I don’t know what he thought he was playing at. He said he was afraid you’d hear about it on the news in the morning and be frantic with worry, but actually I think he just panicked. One way or another, there’s nothing you can do tonight.’

  Kate looked up at him, the whites of her eyes gleaming very bright in the darkness, ‘I’ll have to go out there in the morning. Whether or not she started it, Grainne will be in a terrible state. A fire like that is bound to have all sorts of negative associations for her, considering how her mother died. And if she started it herself... Well, you can imagine what her mental state must be. She’ll need me now more than ever. Perhaps I should go out there now?’

  ‘No,’ said Peter firmly, ‘Tomorrow is time enough. Anyway, Trev said that Grainne had been heavily sedated so it wouldn’t do any good; she’ll be out for the count. The way you should be if you’re to be any use to her tomorrow.’ He bent over and kissed her softly on the forehead, ‘Go on, go back to sleep.’

  Kate reached up to him, wanting to hold him, wanting him in the bed with her, wanting him inside her, wanting the comfort of his love. But he stood up away from her and she let her arms drop back onto the bed, too proud to ask him aloud to stay. She heard him walk softly from the room and close the door. And to Kate the sound had a fearful finality to it. She pressed her eyes tightly shut; her life had taken on such a nightmarish quality that she hardly knew who she was any more, much less what would happen next. She only knew that she was alone, and that her bed was bigger and emptier than it had ever been before. She cried again, and this time the tears ended only when she eventually fell asleep.

 

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