by Linda Coles
“My sister!” she howled again, hysteria settling in, her sobs bursting through her chest in torrents.
“They’ll find her,” a friendly voice said, though Julie wasn’t listening as they put an oxygen mask on her and attempted to wipe the worst off her sooty face. The mask made it impossible to shout, and her throat burned at the effort, but it didn’t stop her trying to make them understand. A firefighter approached her and asked if she knew how many were inside.
“Chrissy, my sister! You’ve got to find her!”
“Anyone else?”
“A woman, on the floor, that’s all. Please, find Chrissy!” Julie watched as the fire officer conferred with two colleagues and they went back to search once again. What had happened to Chrissy? Brocc was wheeled by on a stretcher, and she gazed at his ashen face as he passed. She wanted to wish him well, tell him everything was going to be all right, but her strength to speak had evaporated. She turned her concentration to the building in front of her that was now fully engulfed in flames. Chrissy was the only thing that mattered now, getting her out, getting her to safety. She thought of Adam and the boys; did he even know where Chrissy was? Had she told him anything when she’d driven up only a few moments ago? But then, a fireman emerged carrying a woman in his arms, her filthy blonde hair resting by the man’s shoulder.
It was Chrissy.
Two paramedics rushed over to help as the fire officer laid her on the ground in the recovery position. They both worked frantically as the fireman returned back to the fire for the remaining woman. Julie sat transfixed at what she was witnessing and so it didn’t particularly register when they quickly turned Chrissy onto her back, and a paramedic commenced CPR compressions to Chrissy’s chest. It was only when Adam filled the picture that she jolted back. Suddenly Richard was by her side, holding her head and shoulders awkwardly in his arms, crying with relief. She gazed up at him, hoping he could read the worry that had settled in her own eyes before they both turned to the scene nearby. Adam was down on the cold concrete, stroking Chrissy’s hair, words moving from his mouth, though neither of them could hear what he was saying. They could only guess. It felt as if the world had stopped as each of them willed Chrissy to take another breath, for her heart to restart, for her lungs to once again fill with clean air.
Sunday
Chapter 81
It was Bronagh’s turn to play visitor to a patient in hospital. Brocc lay propped up in bed looking a whole lot brighter than he had done the previous day when they’d brought him in. Having suffered from smoke inhalation and a badly burned thigh from a mad woman wielding a blowtorch, he was now feeling a good deal better than of recent.
“The article says she didn’t survive the fire,” Bronagh relayed sadly. “Still, she knew what she was doing,” she said, showing no sympathy and shaking the paper out before folding it in half, her almost complete crossword ready for another attempt when she had time.
“Don’t be so hard on her.”
Bronagh could only sniff, her disdain evident.
“Shouldn’t have been meddling where her nose wasn’t wanted.” She folded her arms across her chest triumphantly, as if she herself had won a battle. Her cast rested oddly with her good arm. “She could have done untold damage that woman, mark my words.”
“But she didn’t, did she?” Brocc added, trying to appease his sister. “No real harm done. In fact, for the lad, you could say it worked out well in the end.” He tried his best to shuffle up the bed a little and relieve his left buttock of being numb. Pain shot through his thigh; it would be a reminder of recent events for a few more days yet to come.
“Anyway, you’ve some more visitors,” she said, changing the subject and smiling broadly as a group and a toddler in a buggy headed towards his bed. Chrissy sat in a wheelchair, her head bandaged from a nasty cut on her forehead. Other than that, she was fine. She’d only been released herself an hour or so ago, having passed the doctor’s tests easily and promised to take things easy and stay put on the sofa. He’d agreed to her release on the proviso that she travel to the car park in a wheelchair and stay in Doolin for at least one more night. They should have left for home this morning, but events had prevented them from doing so. Adam stationed her beside Brocc so she could reach forward and take hold of his hand.
“How are you doing?”
“Good. Though I believe the garage isn’t.” There was no malice in his words.
“Ah, about that.”
Brocc smiled. “Not your fault. I dare say she’d have torched me had it not been for blondie here,” he added, holding a beckoning arm out to Julie. She stepped forward, all traces of smoke gone and smelling of fresh roses. “I broke a fingernail in the process,” she quipped. “I just hoped I wasn’t going to scald you when your kettle made contact with her spiteful head. That’s all you needed.” Richard watched on proudly. A gurgling laugh from a small mouth caught everyone by surprise – young Blue. Matthew pushed the buggy next to Chrissy’s wheelchair so the older man could see what his efforts had been for. Matthew held out his hand to shake and Brocc took it.
“Thank you for your help. I can’t apologise enough for dragging you into my mess.”
“Ah, happy it’s sorted now. I guess you’ll be going back to Manchester soon. Back home?”
“I’m not so sure actually. Now I’ve nothing to run from, I might investigate Ireland on a better footing, we’ll see. Plus I’ve still got to see where the Guards and I end up. The DPP may still charge me with neglect, even though Bronagh was on her way when we took off. You all know the rest,” he said, glancing round, “it was no one’s fault, just bad luck.”
“And a couple of youths out joyriding with no lights on,” added Bronagh grimly, remembering back to the accident. It could have been a very different outcome that day. The Guards had since received a report from another driver about an unlit vehicle out on the back road two nights since. It seemed the youngsters thought it would be fun to intimidate solo drivers, fancied themselves as junior James Bonds. They were being dealt with. While it didn’t fully explain how Bronagh’s phone had found its way out of her bag, the theory was perhaps they’d stopped at the scene and rummaged through her belongings, looking for something of value. They would never know for sure.
“Well, thanks to a barking dog and a private investigator on holiday, there was no real harm done. Blue was found safe and sound,” Bronagh added, smiling warmly at Chrissy, who was wearing the scarf she’d bought from the woman’s shop on their first day on holiday, a souvenir of another case with a happy ending.
“I still have one unanswered question, Bronagh, if I may,” said Chrissy.
“I’ll see if I can answer it.”
“The barman. Where does he fit in? He has a record, for violence.”
Bronagh dropped her chin, while she thought how best to respond most likely. “He’s a victim, now a volunteer. He helps make up the accommodation when needed, hence the boxes you saw.”
“But his record?”
“Same story as Matthew here, I’m afraid. It was all her doing, no violence from himself. That’s why the charges were always dropped, because she never laid any since she was the perpetrator in effect.” It made perfect sense. The man wasn’t violent at all. Chrissy wondered about his current situation, if his personal storm had calmed yet.
Adam slipped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed it gently. It was time to go.
“Well, I guess we should say goodbye then. We head back home tomorrow, though Matthew and Blue are staying on for another couple of nights, since there’s no urgency for them to go off anywhere now,” she said, smiling his way. “And Rupert, of course, for the time being anyway.”
“Ciara will be happy to be reunited with him,” Matthew added. “And I guess I’ll figure out what to do next from there, though all our IDs say Lorcan and Flynn so that might prove tricky.”
“But since things have come to a permanent close for you, you can probably revert back now anyway. I’
ve still got your wallet and phone from when you first arrived,” Bronagh said.
“I wondered what had happened to them.”
“All safe at the house,” she said.
“It’s been a most memorable holiday,” Richard chirped in. “One I certainly will never forget.”
“I agree,” said Julie. “And when I see that barman again, I’ll ask him about a certain lamp base,” she said, showing her disdain and rubbing her head for effect.
“What about a lamp base?” Richard asked.
Forgetting he’d no clue of events that particular day, Julie quickly covered it up by suggesting it was time to leave Brocc in peace. But not before she’d locked eyes with Chrissy.
“Come on, let’s leave Brocc to his rest,” Chrissy encouraged.
“It was nice to meet you all,” he said, waving a little as they each said their goodbyes and he watched them leave the ward as a group.
Chapter 82
Bronagh and Brocc both looked like they’d been in a recent war between them, what with bandages and plaster casts. They had of sorts. “I don’t think I will ever forget this week of my life. It really has turned out to be something pretty special in an odd kind of a way,” Brocc said as they watched them go. “But now I know the whole story about what you and your network of volunteers do, why did you think I wouldn’t understand?”
“That’s simple. Men of our generation invariably don’t. ‘Harden up’ and all that. ‘Give her a slap back’ mentality. And that’s no one’s fault, more deep-ingrained culture and history. I remember the leather belt dad used on our backsides occasionally. That was how things were back then, how we were brought up, but times have changed. Now, we talk about all sorts of things that we once swept under the carpet, even only ten years ago.”
Brocc had to concede the point, it was true. “Well, I’ve had my eyes opened now, I can tell you. But I do have a question of my own.”
“What’s that?”
“How does it all get funded, who pays for it all?”
“Benefactors. Those that have sought refuge with us and are safely out the other side. You’d be surprised how generous people can be when they’ve been touched by an abusive relationship in some way. Some do so with the loan of their property.”
Brocc nodded his understanding. It made perfect sense.
“She was a piece of work though, not only to Matthew and Blue, but the way she hurt you too,” she went on. Brocc brushed the comment off with a flick of his hand.
“See what I mean? Anyway, should I move into yours or you move into mine?” she asked suddenly.
“What are you talking about?”
“When you get out of here. Since we’re both banged up, maybe it would be a good thing for a week or two, keep an eye on the other for a while.”
Brocc had no intentions on going anywhere, he was too independent. Plus it was only a burn, he hadn’t lost a limb.
“Will you stop that, woman. But I can tell you I will be heading to the pub as soon as I get out of here. So why don’t I buy us both dinner, and you can tell me where I might be able to help you, in the group?” It wasn’t often Brocc smiled, but the occasion warranted his biggest in a long while. Bronagh was aghast at his surprise suggestion.
“Really? Are you sure? And I don’t mean about buying dinner.”
He nodded, his smile broadening across his face. “No one deserves to live scared in their own home, so yes. I’m doubly sure. If there are other ‘Tess’s out there, then people need to be protected from them. And I’m sure I can be of use somewhere, if only with my old car.”
She bent down and hugged him, her broken wrist awkwardly dangling to one side, but the sentiment was there. She blinked back the tears that had started to well, but it was too late, he’d seen them.
“Easy now,” he said. “Don’t go getting all soft on me.”
Bronagh spluttered a laugh of sorts. She knew she could find a role for her brother somewhere.
Tomorrow, somebody else may be in need of their help.
Chapter 83
Epilogue
Two months later, December
Doolin seemed the obvious place for them both to settle. With a nearby babysitter that doted on Blue, it was easy for Matthew to pick up a driving job once more, and return to his previous occupation, though this time without the long-haul distances. It also gave him the opportunity to give back to the network that had saved him, as a volunteer, as so many past victims went on to do. Pay it forward.
Blue pointed at something in the distance, an undecipherable attempt at putting his own words together half lost on the chilly breeze that whipped off the sea as they walked. The little boy turned towards him from his buggy, and Matthew marvelled at his rosy-pink cheeks and ever-present smile. The tension now gone from his home environment, he’d settled into his new routine and surroundings with ease. He steered them into the small supermarket and placed Blue in the child seat of a trolley. Mitten-covered hands waved at anyone that looked their way. His cute cherub face topped with a blue woollen hat had heads turning as he gurgled, travelling down the various aisles with his dad. They stopped at the deli counter and waited their turn. A few days out from Christmas and the shop was busy, but that didn’t matter much, they had all the time in the world. A woman’s voice caught Matthews attention, and he turned at the familiarity of it. He’d not seen her for some weeks.
“Hello little one,” she said, first bending to give Blue a kiss on the cheek, before pulling Matthew into a tight bear hug and planting another one on his. It was Ciara, her long, deep auburn hair visible from underneath her knitted hat. Long gone was the wig she’d been using from her last case, her work there finished. Matthew returned the squeeze; it was good to see her again. Since his own treatment with her had stopped with the turmoil of moving south, he hadn’t had much of an excuse to stay in touch. He’d certainly missed her.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, beaming. It really was.
“And you too, both of you!” she exclaimed with some theatre, mainly for Blue’s sake. “Have you time for coffee, perhaps?” she asked excitedly. “When you’ve finished in here, I mean. It would be grand to catch up.”
Blue shot an arm in the air and yelled his approval as if he was the one making the decision for both of them. It was a habit he’d started only recently. Laughing, Matthew said, “We’d love to. Give us twenty minutes?”
“Great. Let’s say Oh La La? They’re doggy friendly in there. Rupert is waiting outside for me.”
“Perfect, it will be lovely to catch up, and see the mutt again,” he said, smiling just as much as the toddler sitting in his trolley was,. He’d missed her company more than he’d realised, but then he had been through the emotional wringer of recent. Now things were a little more settled, he too had begun to relax. Finally, life felt good again.
Twenty minutes later, he parked the buggy alongside a table in the back of the café and waited for Ciara to arrive. She was only a moment behind them, and Matthew watched as she breezed in with Rupert close by her side. He waved as she made her way over. Matthew stood to greet her, and Rupert waited patiently for his pat.
“Hello, boy!” he said as he made a fuss before the dog settled on the floor beside them. Blue pointed and yelled his approval. Again.
“Still drinking hot chocolate?” he asked. “I’ll go and order.” They’d spent the best part of three months living and working together, he wasn’t about to forget her usual drink.
“Please,” she said, taking a seat as he made his way back towards the counter where he ordered two hot chocolates and a mini for Blue. He added two slices of apple cake to their order – Blue could share his. Having paid, he returned to the small gathering at the rear of the café. So close to Christmas, it was warm and cosy inside, and a tinsel-covered tree in the corner with fake presents underneath it added to the festive feel. He unzipped Blue’s coat and removed his hat and mittens. Ten tiny fingers reached out to touch whatever they could,
which happened to be Ciara’s leg. Grinning, she bent down and unbuckled him from the buggy and he sat happily on her lap, the action of her doing so uninvited feeling natural to all three of them. Matthew took a deep cleansing breath as he realised how much he’d missed the woman’s company. He caught her eyes for a second and smiled.
“It really is good to see you again,” he started. “Where are you working now, in Ennistymon?”
“I’ve just finished actually, so I’m, shall we say, ‘in between homes’ at the moment?” Matthew smiled at the thought of her actually staying at her own small cottage for a change. He’d only been there only once, a tiny place on the edge of Doolin. She rented it out for the majority of the summer months, the extra income welcome cover for when she worked on an intense case. There weren’t the funds in the network to pay her a full salary, but the work she did was invaluable. He imagined her sitting curled up on the sofa alone, reading one of the many books she had displayed on floor-to-ceiling shelves in the living room. She was a real bookworm. “I guess that’s a good thing,” she added. No one entering their system was generally a positive thing, though there were plenty of people in need that simply weren’t aware of their existence or help on offer. It was hardly something the network could advertise.
Matthew cleared his throat and prepared to speak. He felt like a teenager as he took the plunge.
“Well, maybe you’d like to join the two of us at Gus O’Connor’s pub, perhaps for lunch tomorrow? I know Blue would like to share his meal with you,” he said, grinning. “He told me so only this morning,” he added, more to fall back on humour as he nervously awaited her reply. Since they were no longer working together as patient and therapist, there was no issue there – unless of course Ciara simply didn’t want to. He fixed his grin and waited, watching her face for a sign, a tiny twitch even, as to which way her decision might go. Her eyes held his when, finally, they started to dance.