Luke Adams Boxset 1

by Dawson, H A

  ‘He saved my life.’

  Jason nodded.

  ‘Who started these rumours you mentioned?’

  He shuffled, uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know. What matters is that he gets Ethan better . . . and the other kids too.’

  ‘So you don’t really believe them?’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know.’

  ‘You shouldn’t. Have you considered that it could be someone else fiddling with the priority list, and that he is trying to put things right?’

  Jason looked to her with a worrying eye. It was difficult to tell if he agreed with her or not, but either way, he didn’t seem to want to volunteer any more information.

  ‘I hope whatever is going on doesn’t affect anyone in a detrimental way,’ she continued. ‘I don’t like the idea of favourites. One life is just as valuable as another.’

  ‘Would you feel that way if it was your child?’

  ‘Yes, of course I would. I wouldn’t want to think I’d jumped the queue either. How could I live with myself if whatever was going on had resulted in someone else’s death? That would be horrible . . . unbearable.’

  Jason fiddled with the strap of his watch, and his gaze flitted. After a few moments, he stood up. ‘Come on, let’s get out and enjoy the day, else we’ll both be miserable.’

  The bus screeched and jolted to a standstill, causing Brittany and Jason to surge forward and then back. His hand grasped the back of the seat in front and he edged his feet into the aisle, waiting for an elderly woman with a bag in one hand and a walking stick in the other to hobble towards the exit. They followed on behind.

  Outside, the air was fresh and the sun gently warming. Squinting, Brittany averted her gaze away from the bright light and watched the passengers scurry away. Some were more eager than others, and squeezed through the gaps and weaved around the bodies, leaving behind the less able and unhurried. Within seconds, the throng had cleared.

  Brittany stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets and walked alongside Jason, passing semi-detached houses with large front gardens and driveways, and a restaurant with an impressive exterior that appeared to have been recently improved. The stonework was cleaner than the adjoining building, and the sign was unmarked and glossy. She peered inside and at the dimmed lighting and unoccupied tables and chairs, and trundled on.

  Jason had a lengthy stride and she started to puff, but she was determined to keep pace and wanted no special treatment. Even though she sensed her fatigue was related to her poor kidney function, she told herself it could just be due to a lack of fitness. Either way, it was difficult to disguise and she started to trail.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m walking too quickly.’

  ‘I’m unfit . . . and recovering from an infection.’

  He glanced to the side and frowned. She averted her gaze, uncomfortable.

  Up ahead, was an archway leading to a Victorian museum, gardens and a café. They followed the cobbled walkway, pausing when they arrived at an aviary that split into three separate sections. The birds, all colourful and sprightly, fluttered between the branches and rested on artificial perches.

  Jason pressed his face close to the mesh. The birds seemed oblivious to his presence.

  ‘Aw, look at those two,’ Brittany said, ‘are they lovebirds?’

  He passed her a twisted smile. ‘They are.’

  ‘They are so sweet.’

  ‘See that one over there,’ he pointed to a bird in the corner. ‘That’s a zebra finch. They’re Ethan’s favourite.’

  It was a grey and white bird, with an orange beak and cheeks. It looked like it was blushing.

  ‘And what are they?’ she asked pointing to another small bird.

  Jason chuckled. ‘They’re budgies.’

  ‘Oh.’ She stepped along the path. ‘I don’t know much about birds. Do you come here a lot?’

  ‘We do. Ethan likes it here, and it’s free. Not that I’d deny spending money on him. It’s just . . . well, it all adds up.’

  ‘I know what you mean, and I don’t have a child to care for.’

  ‘Money’s not that important, so long as Ethan gets what he wants and needs. It’s more important for me to be there for him. I wouldn’t feel right otherwise.’ He reached out his arm searching for her hand. ‘Come on, there’s something I want you to see.’

  Her pulse quickened as Brittany grabbed hold. It was warm and secure, a perfect fit. She held her breath and felt the pounding echo in her throat.

  They passed another aviary. Briefly, she glanced at the grey birds with yellow heads with tufts, and looked to the sign. They were cockatiels. Some preened, others fed at feeders.

  ‘They’re not very active, are they?’

  Jason had a glint in his eye. ‘What do you expect them to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. It doesn’t seem much of a life.’

  ‘No, I suppose not. But it does give children a chance to see some of the more exotic birds. I’m not a fan of zoo’s and suchlike, but I think they serve a purpose . . .even just for educational purposes.’

  ‘Hmm. I’ve never really thought about it.’

  They continued along the path. Just ahead, it split into two. There was a sign to the café and museum to the left, and farm animals up a slight incline to the right.

  ‘It’s very strange being virtually the only ones here. Is it normally this quiet?’

  ‘Not on weekends and holidays.’

  They followed the path, up the slope. Just around the corner, was a field containing a few sheep. Jason stopped and looked to Brittany, his eyes bright, expectant. She threw him a puzzled glance.

  ‘She should be here somewhere,’ he said, releasing his hand from hers and resting it on the fence.

  ‘Who should?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  One of the sheep stepped away from the flock and strode towards them.

  ‘There she is,’ Jason said. ‘Flossy!’

  She ambled across.

  ‘Flossy?’ Brittany asked.

  ‘You’ll see why in a minute.’

  The sheep stopped a couple of metres from them.

  ‘Hello sweetheart,’ he said. ‘How you doing old girl?’

  Flossy peeled back her lips and thrust forward her jaw. She looked as thought she was grinning. Brittany laughed.

  ‘She’s happy,’ Jason said, ‘she likes the sunshine.’

  ‘I can’t believe I’m with someone who talks to animals.’

  He glimpsed at her and refocused his attention on the sheep. ‘Shall we take your photo?’ he asked.

  Flossy was still grinning, but the instant Jason retrieved his phone from his pocket and held it up to take a photo, her lips closed over her teeth. Brittany chuckled.

  He lowered his phone. The sheep peeled back her lips.

  Jason flashed Brittany a smile. ‘She doesn’t like her picture taken.’

  Brittany laughed. It happened again and again. It was intentional.

  ‘She’s been like this for years . . . got quite a reputation.’

  The sheep looked hilarious, thrusting forward her beige teeth, and tears streamed down Brittany’s face. She leaned on the fence for support, and held her hand to her aching middle, but still she could not stop laughing. It was infectious, and Jason laughed too, and then wrapped his arm around her middle and placed a kiss on her cheek.

  ‘Glad you like her,’ he said.

  ‘Who taught her that?’

  ‘I don’t know, but she doesn’t do it for crowds of people. That’s why I wanted to come on a weekday.’

  ‘I haven’t laughed so much for ages.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  A sombre expression crept to his face. She sensed he was thinking about Ethan, and her insides ached with sympathy. Like his son, she too had been left behind whilst her parents continued with their routine, and recalled, as clearly as though it was yesterday, her desperate loneliness. She had hated her hospital bed and she had hated being sick. The only good times w
ere when she received special attention from visitors, but for some reason, rather than helping her cope later on, it seemed to amplify her sorrow.

  However, Ethan seemed to be a very different type of child. He appeared far more cheerful than she had been, and seemed to accept the entire situation without anxiety. Jason had said Ethan coped admirably, and had admitted he had been told by his little boy not to be sad.

  Evidently, it was easier said than done. Was that how it had been for her mother? Brittany could not recall her struggling, and a rock formed in her middle. It was difficult to believe she had cared as much as Jason.

  ‘Come on,’ Jason said, ‘I’ll race you too the pigs.’

  He was already fleeing. She tried to catch him, but felt as though she was running through sludge and making little headway. Panting, she bent over to catch her breath and ease her burning lungs.

  ‘You all right?’ he called.

  Brittany nodded.

  He had a concerned look on his face. Undoubtedly, he had witnessed Ethan’s extreme fatigue.

  She forced herself upright and smiled brightly. ‘I’m fine.’

  Jason nodded.

  ‘What’s in the barn?’ Brittany asked, trying to hide her gasps.

  ‘Pigs. Probably piglets too.’

  ‘I love pigs.’

  ‘Do you? Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just like there squished faces and smooth bodies.

  Through the door, there was a distinct smell of manure, and her nose curled, but then she caught sight of a row of tiny pink bodies and it faded into insignificance.

  ‘They are gorgeous.’

  Most were suckling, but one was tussling for position and released a plaintive squeak.

  Jason laughed. ‘See it’s little face?’

  ‘Poor thing.’

  ‘It’s the runt . . . so much smaller than the others.’

  A high-pitched voice drew her attention. A small girl was dragging her mother towards them. Jason and Brittany eased aside, allowing the child to be in a better viewing position. Her small height was a definite disadvantage, and she had to stand on tiptoes to peer into pen.

  With her eyes wide and her mouth loose, the child gawped at the huge sow resting on her side and at the litter of tiny piglets. Her expression was filled with wonder as she made gleeful comments and tugged at her mother’s skirt.

  After a few moments, Jason started to stroll away. Brittany followed on behind.

  ‘I didn’t sound like she’d seen piglets in the flesh before,’ Brittany said.

  ‘That first time is always special.’

  ‘It must be fantastic being a dad.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel so, right now. He’s missing such a lot. He should be out enjoying himself, having new experiences.’

  ‘And he will.’ She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘Let’s have a drink. My shout.’

  They headed into the café. It was a simple affair, with bright lighting, clean white walls, a shiny floor, and a counter. Brittany purchased the drinks and they strode to a table next to the window, overlooking a picnic area.

  ‘It’s hard not to feel guilty,’ Jason said.

  ‘Guilty? Why?’

  ‘I know it doesn’t make sense, but somehow I feel his condition is my fault. Maybe I missed something, or could have done more. I would do anything for that little chap. He means the world to me.’

  Brittany smiled. She liked his honesty.

  ‘Sorry, I’m being morose. I shouldn’t burden you with my problems.’

  ‘Honestly, I don’t mind. In fact, I want to support you. It must be tough doing it alone.’

  He stroked the back of her hand looked towards her, causing a shiver to run up her spine. Even though she saw a deep sadness, there was also gratitude and a tad of joy secreted in his eyes, and her pulse quickened. With nerves mingling with excitement, she ran her fingers through her long strands of dark-brown hair and averted her gaze. Drawn to Jason’s persistent staring, she looked again. He leaned across the table and their lips touched.

  A surge of energy ripped through her body, and their fingers entwined and their eyes locked. The tiny hairs on her body leapt to attention, and her skin turned from hot to cold in quick succession. It was wondrous; she was trapped in a bubble with Jason, in a world where nothing else existed.

  ‘It’s good to be with someone who understands my situation,’ Jason said, ‘but I promise I’ll try not to take advantage. Next time I won’t mention him.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Ethan’s your life. I would never stop you from talking about him.’

  ‘I don’t want to spoil our time together.’

  ‘It won’t . . . in fact it hasn’t. Once he gets a transplant, you’ll wonder why you worried so much.’

  ‘When that happens, I’m through with illness. Never again do I want to be connected to anyone who is sick.’

  Brittany gulped, and pulled free her hand and gripped the cup. It sounded like a warning. Had he realised what he had said? She looked towards him: Jason was gazing out of the window, expressionless, and was unconcerned by his hurtful comment.

  ‘I don’t want to rush you,’ he said, noticing her stare, ‘but if we’re going to visit the museum we’ll have to get a move on.’

  She gawped.

  ‘I have to get back for visiting time.’

  ‘Of course.’

  For most of the time, Jason managed to avoid talking about Ethan’s illness, but every so often, his eyes filled with sorrow. It was either because he had seen a child, or because he had seen something that reminded him of his son, such as the Victorian nursery. She tried to keep the conversation moving, but she could sense he was distracted and whilst she was sympathetic to his situation, she cursed the bad timing. Only time would tell if their relationship would be able to blossom under such troubled circumstances.

  They were sat in the bus, journeying home. Jason glanced to her and smiled and her heart hammered, so much so, she felt sure he could hear it. Then he placed his hand on her thigh, and blood rushed to her skin. It was uncanny that he had such an effect. It was electrifying, sensational, and beautiful.

  However, whilst she was struggling to contain her emotions, Jason seemed detached and impassive. She searched for the same passion, even just a hint, but found nothing. It was difficult to accept he was using her merely as a distraction.

  A mobile phone sounded. Jason lifted his hand from her leg, shuffled, and pulled it from his pocket. Frowning, he held it at an angle so she could not see the screen, and then pressed it to his chest.

  She glimpsed at him. He caught her looking.

  ‘It’s just a friend. Nothing important.’

  Frowning, he held his phone tight in his palm. Something bothered him. She told herself it was none of her business.

  ‘Have you spoken to your mother yet?’

  ‘My mother? No. Why do you ask?’

  ‘I was just thinking about families and stuff. Life’s too short for quibbles.’

  ‘Well . . . she knows where to find me if she wants to see me.’

  ‘I’m sure she’s sorry for what she’s done.’

  ‘You think? She has a strange way of showing it. Did I tell you she’s been following me?’

  Jason pressed tight his lips.

  ‘Would you ever do that to Ethan?’

  ‘I don’t know . . . maybe if I thought he was in trouble.’

  Brittany huffed. ‘She lost her rights years ago, when she cut me off.’

  ‘She must have had her reasons.’

  ‘Are you on her side?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ He replaced his phone into his pocket. ‘I’m sure, one day she’ll be back in touch. Then, it will all make sense.’

  ‘I might not live that long.’

  Jason stared.

  ‘I didn’t mean-’

  ‘I know what you meant.’ He stood up. ‘This is my stop.’

  Brittany was bewildered.

  ‘The hospital
,’ he said.

  ‘Oh . . . of course. I forgot.’

  ‘Thanks for today. It was fun.’

  She wanted to agree and ask him for another date, but before she knew it, he was gone, striding down the bus with his legs apart and grasping the supports.

  The bus stopped. He got off and advanced away. He did not turn around, he did not throw her a smile, and his description of the day echoed. It seemed such an understatement.

  Chapter 11

  Brittany’s gait was awkward and tense, her blood was pulsating, and her skin was warm and sticky. She gazed at the elderly couple tottering across the road and slowing the traffic, and at a grey and white cat scampering up a tree and forcing the birds to flee. But the details were hazy and the images fleeting, and no sooner had the scene registered, when it faded into insignificance, her mind too cramped to take on extra information.

  Ever since she discovered her mother’s whereabouts a few days previous, she had rehearsed her speech, yet still the clarity evaded her and she sensed her words would overflow into an indistinguishable mass. In reality, it was simple; she would tell her the renal department was being investigated and she would wait for a reaction. Then she would say she had heard that there could be a link to Scott’s death and believed her innocence would finally be proven. And of course, she would deny hiring Luke Adams.

  However, Brittany had two concerns. First, she wondered if she would be able to speak of her mother’s innocence when she had ever-increasing doubts, and second she feared she would not be able to hide her annoyance regarding her mother’s parole. In an attempt to seek a solution, and for the sake of achieving her task, she would have to bite her tongue and speak only the words she had planned. She was merely doing a good turn. She wasn’t there to confront her about their failed relationship. That situation was clear; her mother wanted nothing to do with her.

  Michelle’s road was nearing. Looking to delay the inevitable, Brittany paused and peered over a wall at a few trees, freshly growing ferns and brambles. The local authority owned the small patch of land, and it served a few local dog walkers. It’s only other purpose seemed to be to encourage fly-tippers, as just to one side were bin liners brimming with rubbish and broken electrical appliances. It was disappointing sight, and it provided her with only a momentary distraction, and did nothing to settle her nerves. She forced herself onward, her place slowing.