Holding Out For a Hero

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘And then?’

  Her voice gentled. ‘Then I’ll be waiting for you. I love you, Ben, and I think we could have something wonderful, but you have to go and sort yourself out, and when you have, when you’ve got your head on straight and your heart’s healed, then come back to me. I’ll be waiting.’

  And then, because she couldn’t stand there any longer without falling apart, because she couldn’t watch him suffer any more, she turned and ran blindly down the stairs.

  Fliss met her at the bottom, catching her in her arms and leading her into the sitting room, holding her while she let out all the pain and anguish in her heart, and then later, as she watched the taillights of Ben’s car disappear down the drive and out of her life, she held her again, rocking and shushing her.

  Tom came and went, putting the children to bed, she supposed, and with a small, still-working part of her mind she wondered how he’d got home.

  ‘You’re staying here tonight,’ Fliss told her. ‘I’ve made up a bed.’

  ‘I’ll have Ben’s,’ she said, needing to be near him in the only way she could, and as she lay in it later the tears welled up again, but this time she was afraid.

  She’d sent him away. She’d had to, for his sake, but she was so very afraid for him, and she had no idea if she’d ever see him again…

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT WASN’T a conscious decision.

  Ben didn’t know where he was going, just that he had to get away, but then he found himself pulling up outside the cottage he hadn’t seen in five long, agonisingly empty years.

  The key was still on his key-ring, and with a curious sense of rightness, he climbed out of the car, walked slowly up to the door and let himself in.

  It could have been yesterday.

  He reached for the light switch, knowing as he did so that after five years it would be futile, but puzzlingly light flooded the room.

  Oh, God. A basket of toys, a shelf of story-books, a pile of videos neatly stacked by the television. He wandered through the room, picking things up, putting them down, remembering. He almost expected them to come back in at any moment, Linda with her hair whipped every which way by the wind, Toby laughing and running to him, arms outstretched for his father’s love.

  But he wasn’t coming back.

  No. Don’t think about it.

  He went through into the kitchen, and found the fridge empty and the door ajar, the washing-up bowl upturned in the sink, three pairs of wellies lined up by the back door under their coats, all of it neat and tidy and on hold until the next visit.

  It was like Goldilocks and the three bears.

  He went upstairs, into the bedroom he’d shared with Linda, but it was empty, the bed stripped, the quilt neatly folded over the blanket box at the end. There was nothing there to evoke a memory, nothing to tear at him.

  Maybe there was nothing left inside him after all.

  He left the room and crossed the landing, then stopped. Such a little bed, with its colourful bedding and a tired, sad little teddy on the pillow, abandoned and all alone for the past five years.

  How stupid, that something so small could be the thing that broke him. He lifted it with infinite tenderness, sat down on the bed with it in his hands, and wept.

  ‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’

  Meg nodded. Tom was being so kind, so solicitous, but she needed to get back to reality. She’d spent enough days lying in Ben’s sheets indulging in her endless tears.

  ‘It was only a week, after all. I can’t let it change my life,’ she said, trying to smile, but Tom just shook his head.

  ‘A week, a year, a moment—it doesn’t matter how long it is. When you know something, you know it. I knew with Felicity the instant I saw her.’

  She sucked in a huge breath. ‘I can’t get hold of him, Tom,’ she said, her voice full of fear for him. ‘His mobile must be switched off, and he’s not answering his emails. Pete can’t get hold of him either, and keeps ringing me to see if I’ve contacted him—not that I’d tell him if I did.’

  ‘No. I don’t think Ben needs him at the moment.’

  ‘I don’t think he ever did.’

  ‘I don’t know. The programme might have been good for him in a way. It gave him time to draw breath, to get a little distance. He must have needed that.’

  ‘Can you try and contact him?’ she asked. ‘You might have some idea—’

  ‘Meg, I haven’t. I lost contact with him years ago, and if it hadn’t been for this coincidence I probably would never have seen him again. I have no idea where he could be. If I did, I’d tell you, you know that. I’m sure he’ll be all right. He needs to be alone, to deal with this.’

  She nodded, knowing it was true but still afraid for him, needing the reassurance of his voice. ‘He might contact you,’ she said, clutching at straws.

  ‘He might. Any message?’

  ‘Only that I love him. Crazy, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I love him, too. He’s a good man, and he’s been through hell. Still going through it. Give him time. He’ll be back.’

  Meg sighed. ‘I wish I had your confidence,’ she said softly. ‘Right. I need to go and find Angie. I hope we’re busy today.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it. The week’s been hellish so far, don’t see why today should be any different. Oh, by the way, Mrs Bright’s been asking to see you. She wanted to thank you for all you did on Sunday.’

  Meg swallowed. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be reminded of the RTA that had pushed Ben over the edge, but she wanted to know how the whole family were, and if she should manage to contact Ben, she wanted to be able to tell him that they were on the mend.

  ‘I’ll go up and see her later. Is she still in Maternity?’

  Tom shook his head. ‘No, they’ve discharged her. She’s in Paeds with Daniel and Adam, and her husband’s in Orthopaedics.’

  ‘OK. I’ll find her later. Must go, Angie will think I’ve abandoned her.’

  Angie didn’t. Angie thought she was mad to have come back, and put her on Triage where she wouldn’t face anything too traumatic and would have plenty to keep her occupied.

  She went up to see the Bright family in her afternoon break, and found them all clustered round Daniel’s bed. The swelling in his throat had subsided now and he was fully conscious and looking pretty good, considering. His mother was sitting by the bed with Adam cradled asleep on her lap, and apart from the huge bruise down the left side of her face where she’d smashed against the side window, she looked remarkably good.

  And Mr Bright was there in a neck collar, his right foot in a cast supported on a slide-out board attached to his wheelchair, enjoying a brief visit to his family. He still looked a little rough and he wasn’t able to turn his head to see her, but, all things considered, Meg thought, they looked pretty darned good.

  ‘Meg,’ Mrs Bright said, reaching out a hand, and Meg took it and squeezed it hard, bending over to drop a kiss on her cheek.

  ‘Hi. Good to see you looking so well, all of you. How’s it going, Daniel?’

  ‘OK. Throat’s sore,’ he said in a gruff little voice. ‘And I’m bored.’

  She smiled. ‘I’m sure. You’ll be up and about in no time, though, I imagine.’

  ‘He’s got a cracked tibia, but otherwise he’s fine, apart from the throat and some bruised ribs,’ Mr Bright put in. ‘They expect us all to make a full recovery.’

  ‘Thanks to you and Ben Maguire,’ his wife added. ‘I didn’t know he was a doctor.’

  Meg felt her heart twist. ‘Yes. He’s left medicine, but he’s still a doctor at heart.’

  Dear Lord, how could she talk about him, smile and laugh with the family, accept their thanks, promise to pass on their messages to Ben, when all the while she had no idea where he was or if he’d ever come back?

  She escaped as soon as she could, arriving back in A and E to the news that her flat had been broken into and ransacked.

  It was the last straw.r />
  Angie, supportive as ever, sent her home to talk to the police, and she walked into a scene of devastation.

  She knew who it was, of course. They’d made the mistake of scrawling ‘Bitch’ on her bathroom mirror in lipstick, and the only thing missing was her phone.

  ‘Do you reckon it was the same gang?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she said with a tearful sigh. ‘They’ve had it in for me for ages.’

  ‘He was released on bail, you know—the lad who hit you.’

  Meg shook her head. He should have been locked up. Oh, well, at least Ben wasn’t here to see it.

  She went to phone Fliss, but the handset on her house phone was smashed, so as soon as the police had finished she packed up a few things and drove round to see her.

  ‘You’ve got to move out of there,’ Fliss said instantly, pushing Meg into a kitchen chair and plonking tea down in front of her. ‘It’s too dangerous. I didn’t want you to go back there after your car was vandalised. I should have said something. Still, at least you weren’t hurt this time.’

  ‘It’s trashed,’ she said, and felt the tears prickle again. ‘I know it was nothing special, but it was home, and they’ve trashed it completely. All my things…’

  ‘Come here. We’ve got the flat going begging. Have that.’

  Meg shook her head, horribly tempted. ‘I can’t. I don’t want to invade your privacy.’

  Fliss threw back her head and laughed. ‘Privacy? What’s that? We live with Tom’s parents and five children. We don’t have privacy.’

  ‘Well, you should.’

  ‘We do. At night. That’s enough. Too much, in fact. I seem to be pregnant again.’

  Meg forgot her troubles instantly. ‘Fliss! That’s wonderful!’

  ‘Is it? Six children?’

  ‘You love it,’ Meg reminded her, and she laughed.

  ‘Keep telling me that. I’m going to have to buy an industrial washing machine and dishwasher, I think. It’s a good job the Aga’s got four ovens or I’d be pressing the old range into service.’

  ‘Does Tom know?’

  She nodded. ‘He was there this morning when I did the test.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘We got a little careless last Sunday—we’d had you and Ben round and had quite a bit to drink, and we just…’ She shrugged. ‘I didn’t really worry because I’m still breast-feeding, but I had this sudden wave of nausea and exhaustion, and I still had the other test from last time—it was a twin pack, and I thought it might be out of date. But…well, apparently not.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘Tom?’ She smiled. ‘He just grinned and hugged me.’

  ‘A bit of an improvement on last time, then.’

  ‘Oh, yes. But, then, we are married now, and he knows I love his kids to bits. But never mind about me. As I say, we don’t need privacy, and if I’m going to feel awful I won’t worry about making use of you to help with the kids when I’m feeling rough.’

  ‘You don’t need to feel awful anyway—Fliss, are you sure? You ought to ask Tom.’

  ‘He’s already been on the phone. He told me not to let you say no.’

  She bit her lip, suddenly overcome by their incredible kindness.

  ‘I’ll pay rent,’ she insisted, and Fliss opened her mouth, then closed it again.

  ‘OK. If you must. A little. And I’ll pay you for babysitting.’

  ‘You will not. And it’s only temporary, till I find somewhere else.’ She sighed. ‘I’ll have to get a little van to move my stuff—What?’

  Fliss was laughing. ‘We’ve got a people carrier, idiot. We can take the seats out and fit all your stuff in it with room to spare. Tom said he’d do it tonight. You aren’t to go back there alone.’

  Meg nodded. She’d been worrying about that, and since her flat was completely trashed and it was furnished anyway, her next move was to phone her landlord with the news. And later that night, with the remains of her life safely installed into Ben’s flat—strange, how she thought of it as his—she sat down on the little sofa and faced the reality of her future.

  She had no home, the man she’d given her heart to for ever was out of reach, and if it hadn’t been for Fliss and Tom, she would have been truly homeless.

  Instead, she was living in their house, surrounded by the bustle and clatter of family life, the laughter and contentment all around evidence of their deep and abiding love for each other, only serving to underline just how alone she really was.

  ‘Ben, where are you?’ she murmured. ‘Are you all right? I love you. Take care. Come home to me soon, my love.’

  Come home…

  It was finished.

  Ben stood back and looked around, and gave a slow nod. Good. It was all fresh now, clean and light and airy, the kitchen and bathroom refitted, the house repainted from end to end, inside and out. And the garden was looking wonderful, thanks in no small part to Margaret, his next-door neighbour.

  For the last five years, unbeknown to him, she and his parents had kept an eye on the place, waiting for the time when he would return.

  And now it was time to go.

  The estate agent had been that morning, valued it and put a sign in the little front garden, and already he had three people lined up to view.

  Ben’s job was done. With one last backward glance, he closed the door behind him, got into the car and drove off. Back to London, to face the mayhem created by his walk-out.

  He had no idea what Pete had been doing for the past four months. He just knew he’d got sick of the constant calls he’d refused to answer and chucked his phone into the sea one day. Better than switching it off and then checking it every few minutes to see if Meg had rung. Of course she hadn’t. She’d sent him away, and rightly. She wouldn’t contact him.

  So it hadn’t mattered that he didn’t have a phone.

  Now, though, it did matter, and so he went back to London, found Pete and endured the haranguing for the last time, put together a final edit on the last programme and met up with Steve for lunch at the end of the second week.

  ‘So—how are you? Really?’ Steve asked after the preliminaries, his eyes concerned.

  ‘I’m OK. Getting there. I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done with me for the past three years.’

  Steve smiled. ‘It’s been a pleasure. You’ve been interesting to work with—entertaining, watching you and Pete hammer it out day by day.’

  Ben gave a short huff of laughter. ‘Interesting? You reckon? Still, it’s all over now. He tells me you’ve left, too?’

  ‘Yes.’ A nod, a slow smile. ‘I’m going to be working with Lena Murray.’

  Ben’s eyes narrowed. ‘Lena? The war correspondent?’

  ‘You know quite well who I mean.’

  He felt the slow smile spread over his face. ‘Well, well. So what about Susie?’

  Steve shrugged. ‘Susie’s history. We’ve been going nowhere for ages. And Lena phoned me, after the award thing. She saw us on the television, rang for a chat, and I finally plucked up the courage to tell her how I feel.’

  ‘And?’

  He smiled. ‘She feels the same. I’m off with her in a couple of days. We’re going to be filming in Africa. And for the first time in ages, I’m looking forward to it.’ He stirred his coffee idly, then looked up at Ben, his eyes keen. ‘So what are you doing about Meg?’

  ‘I’ve had a phone call.’

  ‘Who from?’ Meg asked, busy checking stores in Resus.

  ‘Ben.’

  Her hands stilled, her heart in her mouth. She drew in a sharp breath, then let it out slowly and turned to face Tom. ‘How is he?’

  ‘OK. He wanted to know how you were. I think he wants to see you.’

  ‘What did you tell him?’

  ‘That he would have to be very sure of what he wanted. That you were vulnerable, and that I’d kill him if he hurt you, either deliberately or carelessly.’

  She felt her eyes fill. ‘I hope that won’t be necessary.’


  ‘So do I.’

  ‘When’s he coming?’ she asked, her heart skittering against her ribs.

  Tom shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He didn’t say.’ He checked his watch. ‘You’d better go, hadn’t you, if you’re meeting Fliss up at Ultrasound?’

  She nodded. ‘I was just finishing off. I’ll take my coat—I’ll go home with Fliss.’

  They had to queue for ages and Fliss was fretting about picking the little ones up from school by the time they got out. She took Charlotte from Meg and tucked her into her car seat, then went home via the school.

  She drove round to the back and put the car into the cart lodge, then, as Meg was helping Abby out, Fliss said her name and she looked up and saw him.

  Finally.

  ‘Will you be all right?’ Fliss asked softly, and she nodded.

  ‘Yes. I’ll be fine.’ She pulled her coat closer, wrapping her arms across her chest, holding her elbows to steady the sudden trembling in her body.

  Fliss ushered the children away, and after an endless pause Ben walked slowly towards her, his face unsmiling.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi. Tom said you rang.’

  ‘Did he tell you he threatened to kill me?’

  She laughed softly, and it broke the ice. His face relaxed and his mouth quirked into a smile. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he confessed. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine. What about you?’

  His eyes scanned her face—looking for clues?—and he nodded thoughtfully. ‘I’m OK. I’ll do.’ He looked around, then back to her. ‘Can we go somewhere to talk?’

  ‘The flat? I’m living there now. My flat in town was turned over by those little scallies.’

  His mouth flattened. ‘I wondered why you weren’t there any more. Were you all right?’

  ‘Fine. I was at work. Fliss and Tom wouldn’t let me stay there, though.’

  ‘Sounds like them.’