Well, let her wait, Judy thought as she stripped. The nosy minx!
As she stood under the powerful spray, alternating hot and cold to invigorate her skin, she allowed her mind to wander back to last night. Yes, she had been a little tipsy, in fact rather more than that. And she knew it was time to leave when she started imagining taking Doc by the hand and leading him to the bedroom...
God! What was she like? She started scrubbing herself with a loofah, the sensation bordering on discomfort as she turned her skin pink. It felt good.
What was it about Doc that she found so attractive? She certainly was not on the rebound. It was well over two years since she had split with John. And she had been with a few men since, though they were more akin to one night stands in terms of the depth of relationships. The longest she had managed to stick with any of them was four weeks, before she gave up on the emotional dead zone that was an estate agent called Robert. A man even more in love with himself than John had been, a muscle bound buffoon who thought he was a gift from the Almighty sent to be admired and appreciated by the inferior species – women.
Dick-head.
It was after that disaster had run its brief and inevitable course that she gave up on men. They were just such immature, self-absorbed arseholes. Maybe it was because she was targeting men in their thirties, singletons, many of who had never settled and probably never would.
Which may be the reason why Doc seemed so different to her normal mating fodder. Judy mulled that over as she stepped from the shower and towelled herself down. The full-length mirror displayed her in all her glory. She approved of what she saw. Still petite, but well rounded where it mattered and with no cellulite or stretch marks. Not too shabby, she thought. Surely a man like Doc would be able to appreciate her. She dressed and analysed her feelings for him, again wondering what it was about him that she found so damned attractive.
Physically he was no specimen. Not gross, but certainly chubby. Cuddly even.
Yes, cuddly.
He was intelligent too, exceptionally so. That went without saying. And she knew he had a great sense of humour, even if his laughter lines no longer seemed to fit his face...
She could see he was trying his best to amuse her last night, but his few attempts had fallen flat. Yet she knew he could make people laugh. She remembered his lecture at Cambridge. A very dry subject delivered with a sparkling wit that turned education into entertainment, surely the very best way to learn.
He was a truly interesting man. Deep too. She paused as she brushed her hair and then spoke aloud to her mirror twin. ‘But it’s his eyes, isn’t it?’
She carried on thinking, sweeping the brush through her damp tresses, letting the hair air dry in the summer warmth.
Doc’s eyes, the liquid sorrow not marring their beauty, if anything, enhancing it, baring the man’s sensitivity, his capacity for love and pain.
Bambi!
She had seen it the moment they met for lunch and her heart reached out to him...
Then he’d called her kid!
She had erupted at that, though not purely at the condescension it implied. No, she had realised last night it was an over-reaction based on something deeper, her own desire to be viewed as a woman, not as some girl, too young for him.
Which is, she thought, quite possibly a problem in Doc’s mind.
Along with the ghost of his wife.
She knew that would be the biggest challenge, but she decided she was willing to play the long game. Be patient. Play for keeps.
The man was so perceptive, a great listener. Well, she supposed, he is a psychiatrist, which may also explain why she found it so easy to share her secrets with him.
But, best of all, she had seen something in him when she asked him, her words propelled by alcohol, to come out with them next weekend. She had gambled, hoping he would not be put off by the family aspect.
Yes, he was different alright. Nothing like that jerk Robert and the rest of them. Oh, they had wanted her body, but ran a mile at the prospect of being involved with the product of it.
Whereas Doc had reacted with yearning and deep sorrow pooling in his eyes when she had used the term ‘baby factory.’ She knew, in that moment, he wanted kids. So, she wondered, why did he not have any with his wife?
Well, she thought as she finished dressing, I’ll just have to find out. What had he said? Baby steps. That was it.
That was exactly what she needed to take. Little steps. Take it slowly. But she had already made her mind up. He was the man for her. So he had better watch out because, when Judy Finch set her mind on something or someone, she would not be denied.
***
‘Coffee love?’ Gran was leaning against the kitchen sink, already sipping a cup.
‘Yes please mum. I’ll grab it and sit in the lounge. Get my work done. How long before lunch is ready?’
Her mother was crestfallen, and Judy could see she was bursting with questions and miffed that her ‘coffee’ ploy had not had the desired effect.
Gran muttered, voice sour, ‘Two hours if that’s okay. I’ll pop the chicken in now.’
Judy’s resolve, not to discuss Doc until lunch, almost slipped as she said, ‘Perfect... A bit like the new man in my life.’ Gran almost dropped the chicken as she lifted the tray, her face a picture. Judy relented. ‘Don’t worry. You’ll hear all about it over lunch. Can you wait that long?’ She chuckled as she took her coffee to the lounge.
With the door closed she knew there would be no interruptions – the house rule to allow her the freedom to work at home – but when she pulled out her briefcase, a thread of dread wormed through her. Her good mood dissipated. Her plan was to listen to the tape, make notes and then type out her report. It would be a good few hours work. Not a problem for her, she was conscientious, but the thought of listening to Leech’s voice in her own home made her shudder.
The man had spooked her badly, yet she was committed to producing an impartial document, just as Doc had ordered. Despite her unease and her own qualms about the man’s attitude, she felt obliged to put Leech’s case across in the best light possible. She pulled out her notes and, sparse as they were, she determined to write the report from memory with just those as prompts.
She justified it easily, she had done the same thing many times before, and anyway, she knew Leech’s words would echo in her mind without her having to suffer the experience over again.
Decision made, she flipped open her laptop and got straight down to it. By the time Gran’s golden roast chicken was adorning the kitchen table she was confident the report had covered everything necessary. She was comfortable too with the thought that Leech would have a chance to review and amend it before the hearing if he felt it necessary. She doubted he would need to.
So, satisfied, she joined her mother and they spent an enjoyable lunch discussing men in general, and one man in particular, as well as gossiping and putting the world to rights.
Then the phone rang and Judy’s day was ruined.
‘Now don’t panic love.’ John’s tone quaked as he spoke, rattling her immediately. She did start to panic as he went on, ‘The helicopter crashed. It was a nightmare. Don’t worry though, we’re both okay.’
‘Crashed?’ She had finally found her voice, and heard its shrill urgency as she spoke. ‘Oh my God, where’s Josh? How is he? Is he hurt?’ Gran appeared at her elbow and tried to listen as John replied.
‘He’ll be fine. He’s in for observation. He had a very bad seizure from the shock. Had to have adrenalin.’
‘Seizure? Jesus Christ! Where is he now? I want to see him.’ She felt Gran put a steadying arm around her shoulder, visions of Josh having a fit on the flight to Paris blinding her, her legs trembling as she envisaged the worst.
‘St Thomas’s. They say he’ll be kept in overnight. Should be home in the morning.’
‘I’m on my way.’ She slammed the phone down, steadied herself and said to Gran, ‘Can you get some things for Josh. J
ohn says their helicopter crashed... The stupid, stupid bastard. I’ll call us a cab.’ She punched in the numbers, anxiety and fear eating her from the inside.
***
Thirty minutes later Judy and Gran arrived to find John waiting in reception. His neck was in a brace, the brown cushion forcing his chin up, giving him an even more supercilious air.
Seeing him fuelled Judy’s anxiety, already bubbling furiously in the cab, and it boiled over as she hissed at him. ‘Tell me what happened. You tell me the truth right now. Is he hurt at all?’
‘He’s very shaken up and a bit bruised, but calm down. No bones broken. Okay, okay!’ He stepped back as Judy shook her fist in his face.
‘What happened?’ She spoke through gritted teeth.
‘The pilot was taking us on a tour round the Thames estuary, flying like a lunatic in my opinion. I’m beginning to think I might sue.’ He gazed at her, pathos incarnate. She knew him too well, knew he wanted her to sympathise with him. She was having none of it.
‘Are you saying the pilot was dangerous?’ Judy did not for one moment believe that. She sensed he was trying to deflect her.
‘Well, not exactly. But we crashed, didn’t we?’ He sniffed, started rubbing his neck brace. ‘And I’m more hurt than Josh!’
‘Good. You bloody deserve it. Now, for the third and last time, WHAT HAPPENED?’ She let go, the words jetting forth, filling the air like a sonic boom. She ignored the nurses gawping at her as if she was a mad woman. Her focus was on the man she was starting to despise and her outburst finally elicited a response.
‘We hit a flock of geese. It was awful. I’ve never been so scared in my life.’ He paused, but the sympathy he so transparently desired was not forthcoming. He continued. ‘The pilot did his best to avoid them, but they just came out of nowhere. They smashed into the screen, the rotor blades, some even got sucked into the engine.’ His hands were palsied as he spoke, face ashen, and Judy felt a momentary twinge of sympathy, but saved it, stored it up for the one person who deserved it. Her son. And, she thought, if this shit had not taken Josh flying in the first place...
Her stomach churned as she wondered how her little boy must have felt. He was just six! If John, a fully grown man, was affected this badly, how was her son coping?
John was floundering, groping for words. ‘It was dreadful.’ His voice cracked and tears glistened, but Judy could see the outpouring of emotion was focussed on himself. The selfish prick was not thinking about Josh. And he was hiding something. Of that, she was certain.
John went on, Judy’s silence goading him. ‘We were spinning and bucking. I thought we were dead...’ The tears actually flowed now, but she felt nothing for him except anger.
Gran piped up, not letting him fob them off. ‘Go on.’ Urgent. Demanding. Cold.
‘The pilot was fantastic.’ Judy made no comment on this contradiction, let it slip by as her suspicions mounted as to what had caused Josh’s seizure. ‘Cool as ice. He managed to drop the helicopter into some marshland. Saved us from drowning in the estuary. And it was soft ground... A really hard crash landing would have shattered my spine. The man deserves a medal. As it is the whiplash is killing me.’ He smiled ruefully.
Nothing.
Four angry eyes were on him and he squirmed as he finally started to spill the beans. ‘The pilot got us out, but by then Josh was...’
He was reluctant to say the words so Judy spurred him on. ‘For fuck’s sake just tell me!’ She didn’t care what her mother thought right now, though she heard her sharp intake of breath expressing disapproval at the expletive.
‘He almost died from the asthma attack. The doctor said it was the pilot’s quick thinking that saved him. Fortunately he had adrenalin in the emergency kit. Thank God for that. Even if he’d had his inhaler – ’
‘What? He didn’t have his puffer?’ She knew it. The useless bloody idiot!
‘No.’ Again that pathetic smile. ‘Josh forgot it.’
‘YOU FORGOT IT!’ Judy wanted to punch him right then, but screamed the words at him instead, their force throwing John back a step.
‘Even if he’d had it the doctor said he would’ve probably needed the injection. It’s not my fault for Christ’s sake! It was a bloody accident. And I almost died too!’
His voice whined into her brain and Judy, who had never raised a hand to Josh, who believed that violence adds nothing to the sum total of humanity, lost it. She slapped his face with such ferocity the explosive crack stopped two passing nurses in their tracks as they stared at the spectacle she was making. She didn’t give a damn. All the hurt, the pain, the agony of guilt and failure that represented her marriage to this fool, surged within her, combining to power a blow that almost knocked her ex-husband to the floor.
Judy heard her mother mutter, ‘About time too.’
She was still too furious to speak and watched in satisfaction as John reeled, whimpering, holding his neck, obviously blinded by the pain from the injury already there, now rekindled and accentuated by her ferocious smack.
He then made the mistake of filling the silence. He stammered out, ‘You... heartless... bitch!’
The second blow, a roundhouse punch she had learnt in self-defence classes at university, finished the job the first strike had started. He stumbled back, hit the wall and slumped to the floor.
Judy stood over him, seething, refusing to scream at him, just letting forth the words she wished she had said when she caught him rogering his secretary.
‘You are a selfish, arrogant, insensitive, thoughtless, feckless bastard. You are an unfit husband, and now I realise you are an unfit father. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer on Monday – ’
‘Oh come off it Judy. I’ll be in America tomorrow – ’
‘I don’t give a damn!’ She heard nothing from Gran this time, sensing her mother’s approval now. ‘If you cared about your son more than your precious career you’d cancel the flight.’ She leaned right down into his face, and he actually flinched, holding his hands out to fend her off. ‘You are pathetic. I wish you were dead. You bastard.’
With that Judy marched to the startled receptionist and, in a perfectly modulated voice said, ‘I’d like to see my son now please.’
***
A nurse led Judy and Gran through to a private room – at least that was one thing she could rely on John for – where Josh sat propped up in bed, watching an old Shrek movie. Her heart lurched at the sight of him, the green translucent oxygen mask on his face, his eyes dark in their sockets, face deathly pale. But when he saw his mum, he smiled, and relief washed through her.
‘The oxygen isn’t really necessary Mrs Finch – ’
‘Ms Finch. We’re not married any more. Thank God.’ Judy’s words were out before she realised, breaking her vow not to let Josh know what she really felt about his father. Oh well. Maybe for the best after all...
‘I’m sorry. I just assumed... Well, anyway, we can pop this off for now. It’s just a precaution.’ The nurse plucked the mask off Josh’s face and let it drop to his chest. ‘It’s there if you need it Josh, but you can give mummy a big hug and kiss if you want.’ She patted his head, ‘And remember young man. No smoking!’ She laughed at her own joke, but pointed at the oxygen bottles by his bed and added to Judy and Gran, ‘Not a good idea for you either.’
‘Okay.’ Judy went to embrace her son, wanted to crush him to her, hold him so tight he became part of her again, but she feared his fragile lungs would object. She planted a lingering kiss on the top of his head as Gran moved to the other side of the bed. They each held a hand. Judy was weeping, but had not noticed.
‘I’m sorry mummy.’
‘What? Don’t be daft. What on earth is there for you to be sorry about?’ Her heart flew to him, she hugged him hard again, not sure what he was thinking.
‘I forgot my puffer. I was so scared. I’m sorry. I won’t forget it again.’
‘It’s not your fault sweetheart. Daddy should’ve remember
ed.’ She’d even made a point of reminding him. ‘But it’s good that you’ll always remember it in future.’
Judy loved her boy, had always thought she could not love him any more than she already did. But right now, right here, hearing her little boy taking more responsibility for himself than his father had, sent her emotions soaring to a dizzy height, to a level she had never experienced. More tears streamed and she smiled weakly at her mother. ‘He’s my little trooper.’
‘Yes love. Takes after his mother Fort – ’
‘Fortunately.’ They both said it at the same time, then burst into laughter, tension finding release through the safety valve of humour.
‘Snap!’ Josh shouted, and they all laughed far more than the pathetic joke deserved.
‘So my little soldier. Tell me. Where does it hurt? They say no broken bones, just some bruises.’ She brushed tender fingers over his neck, the imprint of the harness a purple stain there.
‘I ache mummy. Everywhere! But I listened to the pilot when he told us what to do before we left... He told us if he ever said mayday to bend over, put our heads in our laps and to hug our knees. Daddy didn’t. That’s why he hurt his neck.’ He was proud of himself and added, ‘I did better than daddy didn’t I?’
Judy caught Gran’s eye, and they laughed again. Served the bastard right.
‘You are a very good boy. And as a special treat we are all going to Brighton on Sunday... And I’m bringing a special friend called Colin. You’ll like him.’ She was sure.
‘BRIGHTON!’ Josh tried to bounce but winced instead. ‘Oh mummy. Thank you.’ He snagged his arms round her neck and snuggled to her. She knew Brighton was Josh’s favourite place in his, admittedly limited, universe. She felt on top of the world.
Josh whispered to her, and despite his effort at confidentiality, his voice was clearly audible to Gran.
‘I heard the pilot call daddy a stupid arse mummy. I think it’s rude. What does it mean?’
Remorseless: A British Crime Thriller (Doc Powers & D.I. Carver Investigate #1) Page 10