Friday's Child

by Clare Revell

  The door opened. “Agent Page?”

  Patrick nodded. “Yes. This is Eleanor Harrison, daughter and sister. And Agent Williams.”

  “Sister Anderson. I’m the chief nurse here. Come on through.”

  “How are they?” Eleanor asked.

  “Your mother is in Resus,” Sister Anderson said as they walked down the short hallway. “We’re waiting to take her up to surgery. She’s bleeding internally and has a ruptured spleen. Her legs were pretty badly broken.”

  “And Abbie?”

  “Cuts and bruises, mainly. She’s broken her arm, some pain in her stomach.”

  “Can I see Abbie first?”

  “It might be better if you spoke to your mum first.” Sister Anderson lowered her voice, her tone concerned.

  “How did the accident happen, do you know?”

  “The police wanted to know when you arrived. They need to talk to you about that.”

  “Oh, right.”

  Sister Anderson pushed open the huge door into the busy resuscitation room. She led them over to one of the beds. An IV hung over the top, machines whirred. A doctor in scrubs, with a stethoscope slung around the back of his neck, examined the open fracture on one leg.

  Eleanor swallowed hard, bile rising in her throat.

  “Tony, this is Eleanor Harrison, her daughter.”

  The doctor looked up. “Tony Peterson, ED consultant.”

  Eleanor nodded. “How is she?”

  “Pretty seriously injured. She’s in and out of consciousness. Once there’s an operating room free, we’ll take her up.”

  She glanced down at the figure on the gurney. “Mum…”

  The eyes flickered open in the cut and swollen face. “Eleanor…”

  “I’m here.” She would have taken her hand, but her mother had always resisted physical contact.

  Patrick let go of her hand. “You talk to her. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She moved closer to the bed. “You’re going to be fine.”

  Her mother shook her head. “No…”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I wronged Abbie and you. I’m sorry.”

  She tried to respond, but didn’t know what to say. She’d never heard her mother apologize for anything before. “I don’t…”

  “Let me, finish. It was the only way to deal with it. Make him pay for what he did. But I was wrong to take it out on you all those years. Two wrongs don’t make a right. History repeating itself.”

  “What do you mean? I don’t understand. You’re not making any sense. Make who pay?”

  “Your dad… There’s a letter in the firebox. It explains what he did.”

  Dr. Peterson came back over. “We need to take her to surgery now.”

  Eleanor nodded. “OK. See you later, mum. Love you.”

  Her mother suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand. “Look after Abbie. She’s yours… I’m sorry.”

  She stood there for a moment as they wheeled her mother away. Taking a deep breath, she tried to shake off the feeling of foreboding and unease the strange conversation had left her with.

  Her mother didn’t apologize for anything, never mind bringing up Abbie.

  What could her father done that was so terrible? Could what PJ have said been correct? Had her father been a criminal and on the run?

  Turning to the nurse, she was pleased to see Patrick still there. Although she hoped he hadn’t overheard the conversation with her mother. “Can we go see Abbie now?”

  Down the hall, Shay stood on guard outside a cubicle. Abbie sat on the bed, a bandage wrapped around her head and her left arm in plaster. Her face streaked with tears. “Ellie…”

  Eleanor sat on the bed and hugged her tightly. “Hey, squirt. I came as soon as I could. Are you doing all right?”

  “Do I look all right?”

  “I’ve seen worse. There’s a man out there with both legs in plaster.”

  “Where’s mum? They won’t tell me how she is.”

  “They’ve taken her to surgery. She’s badly hurt. Do you remember what happened?”

  “We crashed.” She rolled her eyes in a typical teen fashion.

  “I know, sweetie, but how did you crash? Did Mum lose control, go too fast?”

  Abbie didn’t answer. “They want me to stay in overnight. I don’t want to. I want to go home.”

  Surprised by the sudden change of topic, Eleanor looked at Patrick. “Then I’ll stay too, we both will. We can sleep in the chairs next to your bed.”

  Abbie glanced up at Patrick and rubbed a hand over her face. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I thought you liked Patrick? He brought me in to see you.”

  “Well, Mum said you’re living with him now and not us anymore.” She cut her eyes over to Patrick.

  Eleanor could feel Patrick’s eyes burning into the back of her head without looking at him. She hadn’t told anyone where she was. Not that he would believe her if she said as much. Question was, how did her mother know? “I’m not living with him, Abbie. At least not like that.”

  “Then what is it like?”

  “First let me ask you something. How did Mum find out about Patrick?”

  “You sent a text from his phone yesterday. Said you were staying at his for work.”

  Eleanor exchanged a horrified look with Patrick. “Yeah, but you always read and delete your messages, don’t you? Like I told you too?”

  “Yeah…’cept this time as I was about to, Mum came into the bedroom and found the phone.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and sucked in a deep breath. “It’s too complicated to explain and I’m not supposed to talk about it anyway, but I’m staying in a safe house with him and his partner for a few days. Patrick’s a government agent.”

  Abbie’s eyes grew round. “Like the FBI? Cool.”

  She smiled as Patrick chuckled. “Pretty similar. He works for MI5 as an agent, but you cannot tell a soul. Only you and I know. And you can’t tell anyone I’m not at home either.”

  Abbie kept looking at Patrick. “Does that make you like James Bond?”

  “Only better looking.” Patrick winked at her. “My brother and sister, have always called me 3.14. And now they and my partner call me Agent 3.14, so I’m way cooler than 007.”

  “Why did they pick that number?”

  “It’s because my nickname is Pi.”

  “Oh, the math thing.”

  “Exactly. Pi being 3.141592 and so on. I play dumb. They don’t think I ever worked it out, but I did.”

  “How do you know pi to so many decimal places?”

  Patrick grinned. “How I wish I could calculate pi. Each word is the next number in the sequence—you count the letters to get the number. How, three, I, one, wish, four and so on.”

  Abbie counted quietly then beamed. “That is so cool.” She tilted her head. “Why didn’t you tell your brother and sister you knew why they called you that?”

  “It’s far more fun this way, but I suspect they know.”

  Eleanor’s soul twinged watching the easy way Patrick spoke to Abbie and put her at her ease. He’d make a great father. But he’d never forgive her either.

  “But why’s Ellie staying with you and not at home?”

  Eleanor took a deep breath. “He’s my bodyguard for a few days.”

  “Why?”

  “I already told you it’s kind of complicated.”

  Abbie frowned. “More secrets?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You. Mum. Too many secrets in our house. I hate it. Does it have anything to do with those men?”

  “What men?” Patrick sat on the bed next to her. “Can you tell me about them?”

  “They came to the house last night, looking for Ellie. I didn’t like the man who did the talking. He shouted a lot. I’d never seen him before, but Mum called him Rick. She told him Ellie had moved in with her boyfriend. They didn’t go away like she wanted them to. They sat outside the house in their car all
night.”

  Eleanor caught her breath. Oh…the package. Was that what they wanted? She’d forgotten all about it. “Did you tell anyone?”

  “No. Mum was mad at you, didn’t want her to get crosser. Then this morning there was a weird phone call before we left for school.”

  “Oh…” she whispered.

  Patrick silenced her with a glance. “Tell me about the phone call.”

  “I answered in case it was you, Ellie. This man wanted to speak to you, he sounded like the guy from the club. You know the one that wouldn’t let me stay. I told him you weren’t there. He shouted at me and demanded to speak to mum. I gave her the phone, but after she spoke to him, she got all funny and insisted we had to leave. She knew him, Ellie. Then the car from outside the house followed us.”

  Abbie stopped. She took a deep breath. “It drove us off the road. Hit us several times like in a film. We rolled over and over across the carriageway and then down the hill.”

  Tears filled her eyes and Eleanor wrapped her arms tightly around her. “It’s all right now. You’re safe.” She glanced at Patrick. “We need to get her out of here.”

  Patrick nodded. “Let me go and speak to her doctor and make a phone call. Shay is right outside the curtain.”

  “OK.”

  Eleanor sat quietly with Abbie, holding her as she cried. “You did very well talking to him. He might need to get you to describe the men, can you do that?”

  “Yeah. Photographic memory.”

  “I know.”

  “Is mum going to be all right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The curtain moved and Patrick came back in. “Right, that’s everything sorted. You’re both coming back with me. Abbie, your doctor says that long as you rest you don’t need to stay in overnight. But if you get a headache or stomachache you need to tell me or Elle immediately.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “Welcome.” He held up a white paper bag. “He’s also given me some pills for you and said he’d ring when your mum comes out of surgery.”

  ****

  Patrick sat in the car beside his partner with the mirror angled so he could watch Elle and Abbie as Shay drove them back to Elle’s place. Abbie would need her stuff if she was going to move in as well. Nahum was sending a team in to dust for prints and do a fingertip search of the entire house, once they had picked up a few things for Abbie. He wanted to get in and out first as it would be best if Elle and Abbie didn’t see that.

  Shay parked and turned to look at the others. “I’ll sit out here. You’ve got five minutes to pack what you need.”

  Abbie continued to complain. “Why can’t we stay here, Ellie?”

  “It’s not safe. Let’s go pack your things.”

  Patrick escorted them up the path, moving them as fast as he could. He kept an eye on the street while Elle unlocked the door, and then chivvied them inside. “I’ll wait here. Don’t take too long.”

  “We won’t.”

  He watched as they headed up the stairs, their voices and footsteps echoing. A sudden thought occurring to him, he crossed over to the phone and checked the answerphone. No messages. Wrapping a hanky around the receiver, he pulled his sleeve over his hand and dialed one-four-seven-one to get the number of the last person to have rung the house.

  It listed a mobile number calling at eight fifteen. He wrote it down and hung up.

  Heavy footsteps sounded above him, followed by Abbie’s hissed complaint. “I don’t want to stay with him. He’s bossy.”

  “He’s paid to be bossy. And we don’t have a choice,” came Elle’s reply. “It isn’t his house anyway.”

  “I want to stay here.”

  “Well, you can’t.”

  “Well, you’re not my mother. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  There was a pause before Elle replied. Her voice wobbled more than it usually did when she was upset. “I’m your sister and until mum comes home, I’m in charge. Patrick did you a favor by getting you out of the hospital. Don’t be mean.” She paused. “Abbie, it’s been a bad day for all of us. You got in a car crash, Mum’s hurt, you’re hurt. Someone tried to kill you. Patrick just wants to make sure they don’t try again.”

  He glanced up the stairs. They’d get nowhere fast by arguing. “Ladies? Time’s up,” he called. “We need to go.”

  “Coming.”

  “Why aren’t we staying in your house?” Abbie asked.

  Patrick smiled at them as they came down the stairs. “It’s only got the one bedroom. The place we’re staying in is much bigger. It has a garden and a swing. And my partner, Shay is staying there, too.”

  “Is Shay your girlfriend?” Abbie put her pack down on the floor by her feet and rubbed her arm above the cast.

  “Abbie.” Elle scowled at her. “Partner doesn’t just mean girlfriend.”

  He smiled. “No, it’s all right. Shay isn’t my girlfriend. She’s a colleague from work. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Why not? Did you get dumped because you’re too bossy?”

  “Not exactly. She vanished without saying goodbye.” He glanced over at Elle and she ignored him. Just as well. This was one conversation they needed to have alone and not in front of her sister.

  Abbie frowned, hugging her good arm to her stomach. “That wasn’t very nice of her.”

  “No it wasn’t.”

  “Bad enough she dumped you without at least saying bye or yelling at you first.”

  Elle blushed and Patrick hoped that Abbie wouldn’t ask any more questions.

  “Can I take your bag for you, Abbie?”

  “Thank you.” She picked up the pack and gave it to him.

  Elle hefted the huge firebox in her hands. “Think we have everything.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. Let me take that.”

  “It’s fine, Patrick. I’ve got it.”

  “I’m taking it.” Before she could argue, he took the box from her and eased Abbie’s bag in his other hand. “OK, let me put this in the car first, then I’ll come back for you.”

  “We’ll come with you.”

  “No you won’t,” he said firmly. “Abbie come now, and I’ll come back for Elle.”

  Abbie nodded, walking with him. “Why do you call her Elle? No one else does.”

  “I knew her a long time ago. When we were at university.”

  “Really? Maybe you could tell me about it some time. She never talks about when she was younger.”

  “Sure I will. Get in the car.” He nodded to Shay, who eased up off the side of the car and opened the door.

  “Thank you.” Abbie slid slowly into the back seat, wincing as she did.

  “Does it hurt very much?” Shay asked.

  Abbie nodded.

  Patrick looked at her. “I’ll give you some of the meds the doc gave me when we get to the house.” He put the box and bag in the boot of the car and went back towards the house. As he got there his phone rang. He ignored it as he caught sight of Elle standing in the hallway. She looked completely bereft. He crossed over to her. “Hey.”

  She moved into his arms, almost an automatic reflex. He hugged her tightly. Memories rushed over him, holding her, kissing her, just spending time with the only person, other than God, to complete him. His body stirred, feelings he’d long since forgotten springing to life. “Elle,” he whispered.

  She looked up, her lips inches away from his.

  He leaned in, his forehead touching hers, her breath warm on his cheek. “I missed you. So very much.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  His lips brushed against hers. He hesitated, then pulled her close to him, kissing her. She parted her lips allowing him to deepen the kiss, her hands moving over his back.

  Time stood still for a moment, transporting him back fourteen years to a time when all that mattered was Elle and her love for him. The phone vibrated again, it’s ringing interrupting the moment.

  Disappointment flooded him as she pulled ba
ck, her cheeks coloring and her fingers rising to her lips. “I…You better answer that.”

  He pulled out the phone. “Page.”

  “It’s Nahum. Where are you?”

  “Collecting clothes and things for Abbie from the Harrison’s house. Why?”

  “You didn’t answer your phone.”

  “I had my hands full. What’s up?”

  “Jeanette Harrison died fifteen minutes ago.”

  “No.” Shock speared him, numbing him. He turned to face Elle, not sure how he was going to tell her.

  “You can take the daughters in tomorrow if they want to see her. For now just take them to the safe house.”

  “Will do. Thanks for the call.” He hung up. “Elle…”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s your mum. I’m sorry. She died a few minutes ago.” He wrapped his arms around her as she whimpered. Then held her as she cried.

  11

  Eleanor sat in the lounge at the safe house. The firebox stood open in front of her, papers strewn across the lacquered and stained surface of the table. Behind her, Patrick and Shay talked quietly. Abbie sat watching TV and sniffling. Frustration and helplessness filled her. She’d wanted to go straight to the hospital, but Patrick had refused. He promised to take her in tomorrow, but that was too late. Now was too late, but she wanted to see her mum, even if she wasn’t there anymore.

  The constant sniffing got on her already frayed nerves and she snapped. “Please don’t sniff. Use a tissue.”

  “I’ll sniff if I want to,” Abbie muttered. “It’s your fault she’s dead.”

  Eleanor turned to look at her. “Mine?”

  “Those men were looking for you. If you’d been at home instead of here…”

  Patrick rose and crossed the room, sitting beside Abbie. “Speaking of those men, if I showed you some pictures, could you tell me if you’ve seen any of them before?”

  Abbie nodded. “Ellie suggested I describe them. I’ve got an eye for detail. I could give you the make and model of the car, too.”

  “That would be really good. But first let’s look at the pictures on my phone.”

  Abbie nodded, leaning down over his phone.