by Lily Zante
"No more than five minutes," she warned, glaring at Caitlin.
He lay on the bed in the teal colored hospital room. His eyes were closed but he started to shift when he heard Caitlin's footsteps. She stood by his side, looking down at him. His face looked even more battered and bruised than hers. Both of his eyes sported bruises and his entire face and nose were swollen. Even his breathing was slow and labored.
"Thank you," she whispered. At the sound of her voice he opened his eyes, slowly and painfully. She saw that they were bright blue but heavily bloodshot. His blond hair was still matted with smidgens of blood but his wounds had been cleaned and the deep cut above his left eye had been stitched. Even with all his injuries, he had a strikingly handsome face.
"No need to thank me," he said slowly, trying to focus on her face.
Caitlin persisted, “I feel awful that this happened to you on account of me.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“You saved my life.”
“Glad I was there.”
“I owe you.”
“No, you don’t,” he said in a soft voice. “I would have done that for anyone. Animals like that ought to be locked up and kept off the streets. For good.” He grimaced and his face turned dark as he suffered a sharp sting of pain that surged through his ribs.
“I hope they catch him before he does this to someone else.”
“I hope so too.” His words were slowing down and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.
With a badly beaten and bruised face herself, Caitlin stood by the stranger’s bedside and watched him lying silently, with his eyes closed. He had a calming, soft and gentle way about him and yet he hadn’t hesitated at all to get involved and save her from a thug. It was the opposite of what she had been used to.
She liked this feeling that someone out there had saved her. She wanted to stay there with him. Even though she hardly knew him, she felt as though she had some sort of bond with him.
She felt she knew him better because of the violent attack they had both suffered, than if they had just randomly met anyplace else. Not that she was having any romantic illusions about him. Yet even so, she found it hard to tear herself away.
“I don’t even know your name,” she said, gently.
For a moment he lay still, then without opening his eyes he said, “Daniel.”
“Goodnight Daniel.”
“Goodnight.”
Chapter Three
A weary Caitlin arrived back at the flat in the early hours of the morning. She collapsed into the arms of her best friend Kerrie and burst into tears. Kerrie held her tight until the sobs slowly subsided. She had stayed awake the whole night worried about her friend. The worry had been replaced with a slow, simmering anger which had bubbled to the surface as soon as Caitlin had walked through the door. Kerrie had taken one look at the battered face of her friend, seen her ripped tights and shattered soul and held her tightly until she had calmed down enough to talk. In a wavering voice Caitlin repeated more or less what she had told the police officers.
With the right side of her face black and blue and her lips all swollen, Caitlin held onto the hot cup of Green & Black’s hot chocolate that Kerrie had made for her. She held it more for warmth and comfort. “If it hadn’t been for him, Daniel….” Her voice disappeared and she sat there, dazed.
"The bastard," said Kerrie struggling to contain her rage. She slammed her cup down on the table. "This is why all women should carry a Taser. If you’d had one of those, you’d have been home safe and sound and that poor sod wouldn’t have touched you.”
"It’s not even legal Kerrie.” Caitlin trembled when she ran through the scene in her mind for the tenth time. “I was so scared,” she shuddered. Kerrie’s smile turned sympathetic.
“How lucky that your knight in shining armor showed up.” She meant it as a joke but there was a truth to it. If he had not been there to intervene, would Caitlin even have made it back home? She pushed the thought away as fast as it had flashed into her mind.
But it wasn’t so easy for Caitlin to shut off, as tired as her body felt, she kept replaying the scene over and over in her mind. “You read about it happening to other people all the time. But when you're in it, you just shut down. It’s like its not even happening to you. Your body is not yours. I froze. I remember kicking him and poking him with the key just like you told me,” Kerrie visibly brightened at the mention of this. “I really don't know what would have happened if Daniel hadn't come along."
She was still shivering, even though Kerrie had turned the central heating on. Her hands were shaking and Kerrie took the cup of hot chocolate from her and put it onto the coffee table on the side. She held Caitlin’s hands in hers, in an effort to calm her down.
“Don’t worry Caitlin. You’re safe now. You’re home.”
Caitlin’s wide brown eyes glistened as tears started to well up again. “I was so scared,” she whispered as the tears started to fall.
Kerrie hugged her friend. “You’re going to be fine. Drink up now. You need to get some rest.”
Kerrie had managed to wrangle working from home for two days and did a great job of looking after Caitlin. For the remaining two days of that week, before most of the working world closed down for the Christmas break, Kerrie fussed over her like a mother hen.
They had been friends since the age of three, meeting at Kindergarten. Their mothers had become best friends, sharing similar interests, mainly the same toddler clubs and aerobics class at the local sports center. Luckily, Kerrie and Caitlin had similar interests and had taken an instant liking to each other too. Kerrie's father, who ran his own printing company, had invested in a beautiful two bed roomed flat in Butler's Wharf, overlooking the River Thames. This flat she shared with Caitlin and insisted that Caitlin pay only a quarter of the usual monthly rent. Otherwise, there was no way at all that Caitlin would have been able to afford such a swanky flat in such a central London location.
The upside was that Kerrie's parents felt reassured knowing that their daughter was living with her best friend and a girl that they knew and liked very much.
And so the living arrangement worked out well for both girls and their families.
The weekend came around soon enough and though Caitlin’s injuries were quickly subsiding, the emotional trauma was just beginning. She was having trouble sleeping and was glad that her parents had offered to come to London to see her over Christmas. She didn’t feel up to making the train journey back home.
"I can wait until your parents come,” said Kerrie on the Saturday morning. It was a few days before Christmas and she was fully dressed to brave the chilly cold; her deep green scarf with matching hat and gloves accentuated her fiery auburn hair and green eyes.
"No, I’ll be fine. You go. My folks will be here soon enough," replied Caitlin, rubbing her face.
Her bruises were starting to pale but her face was still sore. She would have gone down to Hampshire to spend Christmas with her parents but they had been so shocked to hear about her attack that they told her to stay put. They would have come up to see her the minute the attack happened, had she told them of it. Not wanting them to see her bruises Caitlin had managed to convince them to stay in Hampshire and to come up on Christmas Eve. Otherwise her devoted parents would have driven up the moment she had told them. She had done her level best to play down the gravity of the situation.
As much as she loved them, the thought of four days cooped up in the tiny apartment, with her parents filled Caitlin with doom. She knew how her mother liked to fuss over her. She would be ten times worse than Kerrie. "Hurry back," said Caitlin, kissing her friend goodbye.
Kerrie hugged her tightly. "I'll be thinking of you. Say "hi" to your parents for me. Be good now!" Then, with bags laden to the brim with gifts, she swept out of the apartment.
As soon as Kerrie had gone, Caitlin slumped onto the settee once more. Her boss had signed her off work for a week and she didn't have to go back now un
til after New Year's Day.
From the settee, the view of the River was breathtaking. Over in the distance, in the skyline, she could see the famous Gherkin. The dark, silent river only had a few boats on it today. This was one of the few places in London that afforded such an amazing view. She knew she was lucky to be living here in the heart of it all. Christmas wouldn't be so bad. And with so many places and shops to visit and walks to be undertaken, her parent's few days in London would be over before she knew it.
Just as they had promised, Caitlin's parents drove down from Hampshire on Christmas Eve to spend a few days with their only child. Her mother’s face visibly crumpled when she set eyes on her daughter. She steeled herself to put on a brave face but inside she was torn to shreds, wondering who would do this to her little girl. Her father had been a tower of strength. Inside, he had seethed with bitter rage unable to put a face to the man he imagined attacking his daughter that night. The truth was, he couldn’t get the picture out of his head. He had been angry that Caitlin hadn’t phoned him right away. She had waited until the next day to tell her parents the disturbing news. But his wife had managed to calm him down enough so that when he first saw Caitlin when they arrived at the flat, Roger Quinn held his daughter tightly, comforted her no end and cherished her dearly. He wanted to put a name and a picture to the man who had attacked his girl but as yet Caitlin had told them there was no further news from the police. Being the pragmatic man that he was, he bought with him two rape alarms, “one as backup” and insisted that Caitlin carry these around with her at all times.
On Christmas Day, her mother had produced her usual amazing Christmas feast which they had completely pigged out on. And on Boxing Day her father treated his family to an unforgettable meal at Terence Conran’s Chop House which was just a short walk away from the flat. Afterwards the three of them had gone for a long walk along the river, enjoying the sights along the river as they walked along the cobbled streets of Tower Bridge.
They had tea and cakes at one of the little cafes in St Katherine's Docks, watching the magnificent moored yachts dotted all around.
It had become slightly foggy and the darkness that started at around half past three in the early afternoon soon enveloped the tiny streets, save for the lights from shops and restaurants that glistened like shiny jewels in the impending darkness. This was the other extreme of London weather and although Caitlin loved London in the summer, winter truly was one of her favorite times of the year. She loved the thought of nights drawing in, the turn in the weather, the countdown to Christmas and everything that went with it.
But now she would forever associate Christmas with the brutal attack that had come out of nowhere and shattered her already fractured life. A life that she was trying to get back on track again after the mess it had become with Carl.
But she wouldn’t dwell on that now. Nor would she think about the attack. Having her parents with her for Christmas was a good way of ensuring that she focused on more positive things and happy times. And when her parents finally left the day after Boxing Day, Caitlin found herself all alone once more.
Kerrie would not be returning until New Year's day. She had offered to return sooner, not wanting Caitlin to be by herself but Caitlin had declined and did not want Kerrie to break up her family visit on account of her. So she told a little white lie and said she would be spending New Year's Eve with some of her friends. But Caitlin didn’t feel up to doing anything. She had nowhere she wanted to go and nobody she particularly wanted to meet up with.
And her thoughts kept straying towards Daniel. Each time she thought of him, she thought of his blue eyes, his quiet manner and his defense of her. And each time she thought of this, she immediately relived the attack, which left her feeling low again. It was like a vicious circle made worse by her parents’ departure. Only now that her parents had left, there were no distractions to break the vicious circle of tormenting thoughts and terrible memories.
Caitlin pottered around the house aimlessly for the next few days. The time in between Christmas and New Year's seemed to run differently from usual. All the days melted and meshed into one continuous period, such that the start of one day and the end of the next was well blurred. With no specific boundaries in place, no work to get up for, no timetables to stick to, no place to be at, and nothing to specifically do, Caitlin found herself sleeping, eating and watching TV all day long. It was as if her batteries and body needed some serious recharging.
* * *
New Year's Eve arrived and by this time Caitlin could no longer stand the daily ritual of getting up and flopping around in her pajamas all day. Daniel had been on her mind all during the night and it had now reached the point where she had to do something about it. Grabbing her black leather bag from behind the sofa, she ripped it open and hunted through it feverishly, throwing out tickets, a packet of unopened M&Ms, a hairbrush, a lip balm and a pack of tissues until she found, it folded up and placed inside her travel pass. A crumpled old Starbuck’s receipt on the back of which she had scribbled down Daniel's address. There was only one thing to do now and perhaps after that she would be able to put him out of her mind and get a decent night’s sleep for a change.
Her thoughts about Daniel had been pushed to the background while her parents had been over. Now that they had gone, she found herself dwelling on the night of the attack; she replayed the incident over and over in her mind. It was as if she was only just starting to acknowledge what had happened to her. If the man who had saved her had been old, or short and fat, and not particularly good-looking, would she have been thinking about him as much?
She tried to dismiss the notion that she was romanticizing him. That somehow, the very act of him rescuing her had turned him from a stranger into her hero. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened to her if he had not stopped his car and come to her rescue? She had the niggling feeling that her attacker had not been after her handbag or possessions because he had not tried to rip them from her as soon as he attacked her. The feeling made her uneasy. Because all the attacker had wanted, was her. He had rifled through her handbag but that had only been after she had thrown it to him in a bid to distract him. There were some nights when she sat bolt upright in bed knowing that he hadn’t been after her handbag at all. He hadn’t taken anything from it anyway.
Had she simply been unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Was she the one he had come upon to assault, attack and rape? Unable to answer this question, her thoughts would invariably lead to Daniel and then she would remember all the details starting with how he had saved her right up until the last minute in hospital when she left him sleeping.
And so, she felt compelled to visit him. She wasn't sure exactly why but she felt that she owed him a thank you in person at the very least and to find out how he was doing. Even though she had thanked him at the hospital, she wanted to know that he had recovered from his injuries. If he hadn’t been as good looking as he was, she might not have felt the compulsion to visit him in person. But she would still have felt a bond of kinship with him.
As it was, she was now tired of languishing around in her pajamas all day doing nothing so she had made up her mind to go and visit him in person. She had phoned the hospital a few days after the attack to find out how Daniel was doing – and they had told her that he had suffered a couple of cracked ribs but had been discharged the next day. He would need to take things easy. She had been relieved to hear that he had had no life threatening injuries. Cracked ribs were not so bad; it could have been much worse.
She stared down at her scribbled handwriting : 22 Winterbourne Crescent, Ladbroke Grove. When had she written this down? It didn’t matter. She knew where he lived and that was enough. Dressed up and ready to leave, she decided to visit him before it got too dark. She felt a slight sense of trepidation leaving the flat. Today would be the first time she would be going out by herself. No Kerrie and no parents for support. She steadied her jittery nerves by taking a few d
eep breaths. You can do this. You’ll be back before it turns dark again.
She flicked through her A to Z and saw that Winterbourne Crescent was not too far from Ladbroke Grove station. Before she knew it, she was on the Central Line heading West. She had picked up a box of chocolates from Thornton’s on her way there. She wasn't sure if he was a chocolate lover or not but given that she didn't know much about him, she figured that a box of chocolates would be a safe thank you gift to give.
As she found herself walking down Winterbourne Crescent, counting down from number one hundred and eighty eight, Caitlin knew she would be on Daniel's doorstep in a less than ten minutes. Her heart raced uncontrollably so she slowed down her footsteps even more. She felt her breathing quicken and briefly considered turning around and getting the tube back into London. But it was too late. She was almost at number twenty two now. She could see the black door of the large detached house a couple of doors down. Forcing herself to go through with her plan, she walked up to the door, as her insides turned to mush and her mind emptied quickly.
The doorbell sounded its loud and booming clang. There was silence from inside.
She waited patiently, wrestling with the thoughts in her mind that told her she had wasted her time. Try once more, she said to herself, almost praying that nobody would answer. Now that she was here she felt foolish standing on his doorstep with an assortment of dark and milk covered chocolates, to give to a man who had been a stranger a few weeks ago.
She rang again and this time heard the solid trotting of what sounded like high heels from the other side. Before she had time to process what the high heels meant, the door opened and a pair of exquisitely made up hazel eyes stared disinterestedly at her. Caitlin stared back, feeling immediately underdressed. She found herself gaping at a tall, slim and blonde beauty. Caitlin’s eyes were so riveted to the woman’s perfectly applied pink lipstick that she almost didn’t hear what the woman had said.