He laughed, and that annoyed me even more.
“I did get a response to my email,” he said. “She’s looking into things for me.”
“So you were emailing her! I knew it!”
“What? No, not then. Honestly. It was the next day from work.”
“Right.”
“Honestly. Anyway, you’ve got nothing to be jealous about. I, on the other hand... How are things with Mitch?”
I definitely wasn’t in the mood for that.
“They’re okay,” I said.
“Just okay?”
“Well, better than okay. He seems a nice guy.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And everything. Are you seeing him again? Do I need to start thinking about a suit for the wedding?”
“Danny. It’s been two dates.”
“So?”
“It’s still early days then, isn’t it? I’ll tell you what, though, he’s got lovely arms.”
“Oh, here we go.”
“Well, he has.”
“Arm perv.”
“I’m not an arm perv. I just like nice arms. They’re kind of muscly but not stupid bodybuilder big.”
“How do you know that?”
“How do you think?”
“I try not to think.”
“Well, I’m just saying.”
Danny paused, to refill our glasses.
“So, has he, you know, tried to hold your hand? Peck on the cheek?”
I gave him a look that hopefully left no doubt I wasn’t going to answer that one.
“When are you next seeing him?” he continued when the message got through.
“Tomorrow.”
“Wow. You’re keen then.”
“He’s a nice guy. He’s interesting. But can we talk about something else?”
Tomorrow was beginning to seem like too long away.
“So he’s an actual film star?” Danny asked, ignoring my request. I sighed.
“Not yet, but heading that way. Maybe.”
“I shall expect to see you on the red carpet.”
“In your dreams. It’ll all be over once he gets a glimpse of all the Hollywood starlets, and I’ll end my days a sad, lonely spinster.”
“That’s never going to happen.”
“Yeah, well, I may as well do, for all you seem to care.” This last bit was under my breath.
A noise at the front of the restaurant stopped our conversation, probably just in time, as I was starting to get belligerent. We looked up. There seemed to be a bit of a scuffle.
“What’s happening there?” I asked.
But before Danny could answer we saw a man pushing his way through, past a waiter who went sprawling to the floor. There was shouting. He looked like a giant, with a shaved head and a determined expression, and he was coming our way. I looked at Danny but he suddenly seemed very pale, with a look I’d never seen before. And then he started to get up and was shouting at me to follow him.
It was all happening so quickly and yet time seemed to stand still. Danny stood and reached for me, but then stopped and just told me to run. I looked at the man. He was staring at Danny and coming towards us at speed. And then I noticed the gun. I screamed, and ducked, trying to get away. I saw Danny run towards the back of the restaurant. Then I heard the sound of gunfire. More screams. The acrid bite of propellant in the air. More gunfire, but different, louder. More shots. Danny had been hit. It was all so surreal. And then I saw a sight that chilled me to my core. I watched as he fell. Just fell, lifelessly, hitting the ground, a bloodstain forming on his crisp blue shirt, where at least one bullet had entered his body.
29
I’M not sure exactly what happened next. The man left as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving panic and chaos in his wake. I tried to rush to Danny but my legs lost all co-ordination. I was dizzy, shocked, feeling sick. I didn’t faint again but I came bloody close. I grabbed the table to stop myself falling. People were gathering round him. Someone shouted for somebody to call an ambulance. Anybody. More people rushed towards him. I couldn’t see what was happening. I had to move. However horrific, I had to know. I wanted him to see my face as his final memory. To hear my voice as his final words. I tried again. I gathered strength from untapped reserves and pushed forward, hating that I wasn’t taller, angry with all these people standing in my way, and terrified of what I’d find when they moved to let me through.
Danny was lying on the ground. Somebody had turned him on his side. Somebody else was tying a ripped section of tablecloth to his shoulder, as tightly as they could, trying to stem the bleeding. Danny’s expression was cold. Deathly. I couldn’t stop the flow of tears as eventually I knelt down beside him, reaching for his hand, telling him how much I loved him.
And then, from nowhere, there were sirens and more shouting. The people behind me moved away. I looked up to see paramedics running towards us. I tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come. There was no need. They could see the pleading in my eyes.
I knelt back to let the professionals do their work. An oxygen mask appeared. Danny wasn’t moving. Two, three, four people in uniform, working so hard, doing everything they could. Police arrived. A stretcher appeared. Danny was lifted onto it. And then they were rushing back towards the door, holding Danny between them, towards the waiting welcome of the ambulance and its open doors.
Somehow, I managed to follow. Somebody asked if I was the next of kin. I think I said yes. Either way, I was in the ambulance with them, sirens calling as we sped through the streets of London. And still the paramedics worked.
“How is he?” I asked, but I don’t think they heard me. I tried to get close but I knew I was just getting in the way. They were the longest moments of my life.
And then, the paramedics stood back. There was a moment of silence. I had the most terrifying sensation of utter panic. I’d lost him. They’d given up trying to save him. He was lying there, my most amazing, wonderful, irreplaceable friend, gunned down when he had so much still to live for. I didn’t scream. Every part of me just started shutting down.
I felt a hand reach out for me. Then another. They were holding me, stopping me from falling. And I could see Danny, looking so peaceful in a moment of such ultimate violence. I just wanted to hold him. To touch him. To be with him. To breathe my life into him, to bring him back to me, if only for a moment.
And then his eyes opened. He looked at me. And when he saw me he smiled. A weak but unmistakeable smile. That’s when the tears really started. I knelt down on the floor of the speeding ambulance, just to be close to him, just to hold his hand. And then I heard his voice, muffled through the oxygen mask. I couldn’t hear what he said. I urged the paramedic to remove the mask. I had to hear his final words. To hear him say goodbye.
I pulled the mask aside myself, before they could stop me. I knelt closer, cradling his face in my hands. I leaned close. He opened his mouth to speak again. I leaned closer still. And then he spoke to me, and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
“That fucking hurt,” he said. And he smiled at me again.
The paramedics took over. The mask was replaced. I turned to the person closest to me.
“Is he... going to be okay?” I asked, hardly daring to speak the actual words.
“He’ll be fine,” she said. “He’s been very lucky. An inch further over and we’d have lost him but it’s basically a flesh wound.”
The sense of relief was overwhelming. That’s when I did collapse to the floor. The tears were still flowing, but I couldn’t help smiling too. Danny reached out a hand towards me. I grabbed it. I felt him squeeze.
The ambulance arrived at Euston Free Hospital. It was my second visit in forty-eight hours after the drama with Leah. The doors were opened and Danny was wheeled away at speed. I followed, trying to keep up, not wanting to let him out of my sight. Never wanting to spend another moment apart. Eventually I was stopped and told to wait while he was rushed into
an operating theatre.
The hour that followed was perhaps the loneliest I’d ever known. All sorts of thoughts went through my head. What had happened? Who was the man with the gun? Was he really trying to kill Danny or did he just mistake him for somebody else? And what if there were complications in the operating theatre? You hear about people having terrible reactions. The shock causing cardiac arrest.
Eventually a doctor came to see me. She did her best to reassure me. She confirmed that the damage would heal in time, although it was a good job the ambulance had arrived so quickly. Danny was going to be okay. I just wanted to hug her. I wanted her to be my mum.
Danny was taken through to a ward where he was given a private room. Apparently he was going to be sedated and kept in overnight at least, and reassessed in the morning. I was allowed to stay with him. There was a police guard at the door. The chairs were uncomfortable but I didn’t care. He was all strapped up but looked so beautiful and calm, sleeping away the pain.
I rested my head on the mattress beside him. The sense of shock started to ebb away. A nurse brought me a cup of tea, which was a lovely gesture, but in truth it was bloody awful. As Danny slept on, I started to feel my own eyes go heavy. I leaned back in the chair, feeling uncomfortable but just delighted to be there. Sleep came to take me.
I was roused by the sound of a gentle female voice.
“How is he?” she asked. I looked up and couldn’t quite believe my eyes. There, standing before me, in all her dubious glory, was Clare.
30
IT took me a moment to register. Her hair had changed. Where it used to be blonde it was now dyed a deep chestnut brown, but she was still as immaculately dressed as usual, from what I could tell in the dim light of the hospital room.
What on earth was she doing here? How was she here? There was a policeman standing outside the door and she’d sailed straight past him. Shouldn’t he be dragging her away in a pair of handcuffs to begin a life sentence? Presumably she knew that I could destroy her liberty in a heartbeat. Part of me was impressed by the brazen self-confidence of the woman, while the rest was struggling to contain an intense animosity. And yet none of that seemed important at just that moment. My only priority was Danny. I could stick more pins in my mental voodoo doll later.
“He’s sleeping,” I said, rather stating the obvious. “But he’s going to be fine.” I tried to keep the ice-cold venom out of my voice, but suspect I may have been unsuccessful.
She reached out and stroked his hand. It was the tenderest of touches. I wanted to slap her hand away.
“Thank God,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Then I noticed the tears in her eyes too. And despite everything I’d said, and every bad thought that had formed in my head over the last year or so, a part of me softened. Whatever she was doing here, simply coming must have represented a huge risk, and yet she’d done it to be close to Danny. To make sure he was okay. Don’t get me wrong, I still had a strong sense of entirely justified loathing, but part of me recognised the humble humanity in the situation. We both stood there, not speaking, just looking at Danny who in turn seemed thankfully oblivious to all of the evil in the world. And especially that standing right beside him.
Eventually Clare asked me if I had a tissue. I passed her a box from the cabinet at Danny’s bedside.
“Thanks, Anna,” she said, dabbing her eyes. And then she looked at me with such an expression of vulnerability I could hardly believe it was the same person I’d last met all those months ago. The self-centred monster I’d demonised in my mind ever since.
“Are you staying with him?” she asked.
I nodded.
“They’ve said I can,” I said. “I just don’t want to leave him.”
“That’s good,” she said, in a voice so soft it was like the aural equivalent of being wrapped up in a duvet. In the middle of a cloud. And then she came around to my side of the bed. She opened her arms and hugged me. The whole evening was so surreal I didn’t even flinch. Instead I just heard her say thank you, and I stood there, with so many questions, but no idea where to start. The hug ended and she took a step away.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I said at last. My civil tone took me by surprise as much as anyone.
“No, I suspect not,” she replied. And there seemed genuine regret in the way she said it.
In the room there was a quiet hum of electrical equipment, and the gentle sound of Danny’s breathing. It was remarkably peaceful. Clare didn’t seem to be in any rush.
“How come you’re here?” I asked eventually.
“I just had to come. I had to see him. I thought he’d been...” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. I knew. I saw her shudder.
“But isn’t it, you know, a bit risky? Shouldn’t you be living in exile somewhere? Brazil or something?”
She paused before answering.
“Did Danny talk to you?”
“About?”
“About what I said to him.”
“What you said to him? He said he’d spoken to you in Cologne, but I don’t remember anything specifically. Why?”
“Oh, it’s hard.” She paused again. “I’m just so sorry, Anna. Sorry for everything I put you through...”
I put my hand up to stop her.
“Sorry. Not interested,” I said. “All I want to know is why?”
“Why I did it?”
I nodded.
“Weakness, I suspect. And I can’t ask you not to hate me, but, oh, I don’t know. It’s a cruel world sometimes.”
Danny lying in a hospital bed was evidence of that.
“But are you not worried? About getting arrested? There’s a policeman right outside that door, and one word from me could see you locked up for ever.”
“I know. But no. I hope you won’t do that, although it’s probably all I deserve, and I couldn’t complain if you did. That said, I don’t think they’re actually looking for me any more.”
“After the crash?”
“Exactly. I still have to be careful, though.”
“Obviously.”
“Are you going to?” she asked, after a moment.
“Get you arrested?” I paused, while my mind tried to catch up, thinking of how many problems she’d caused, before finally shaking my head. I couldn’t believe what I was doing.
“Thank you.”
Clare fetched another chair and put it down next to mine.
“Let’s sit down,” she said.
We took our seats and then she started speaking again.
“I’m not asking you to like me, Anna, but you can trust me.”
I tried not to laugh but it came out as a bit of a snort.
“Clare, don’t take this the wrong way, but we’re doing fine. I’m sure you’re a lovely person deep down, but I’ve kind of moved on. I don’t wish you any harm, but equally if I never saw you again, I’d not exactly be upset.”
“I know. I do understand. But, equally don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not really.”
“Not what?”
“Doing fine.”
“I assure you we are.”
“Oh Anna, look at us. We’re in a hospital. Danny is lying there, having been shot at, and by all accounts he’s had a bloody lucky escape. You’ve got two friends who’ve been attacked. One’s dead and the other’s in intensive care. I’m not saying you’re not dealing with it and doing a brilliant job, but equally I don’t think everything’s ‘fine’ and I do think I can help you. All of you.”
“Right.”
“Will you let me?”
That was enough to get me started. I’d tried really hard but I could feel my irritation begin to surface.
“Can I just point something out?” I said, voice rising. “You met Danny when? Last Friday? Everything was working well, he was writing a story, everything was under control. And all of the bad things you just mentioned have happened since. So, don’t even start getting me to thin
k about it, or I’ll start drawing conclusions that it’s all somehow connected with your reappearance, because - and don’t take this the wrong way either - trouble seems to follow you around. So no, thank you for the very kind offer, but your help is the very last thing I need.”
That seemed to shut her up. I was quite proud of myself.
“It’s not like that,” she said after a moment, again, almost in a whisper.
“Well, it seems like it to me.”
“Can I just tell you what happened?”
“What? Your side of the story? Getting your excuses in early?”
“No, nothing like that at all. Everything that’s happened was going to happen. Danny just asked me to help him piece it all together so we can make it stop.”
“Danny asked you, did he? When? Did he have some sort of amazing premonition?”
“How do you mean?”
“Because when he spoke to you on Friday, none of this had happened.”
She shook her head.
“Sorry,” she said. “It wasn’t Friday. It was today. This morning.”
“He spoke to you this morning?”
“Didn’t he mention it?”
“No, he didn’t.”
I have to confess, that came as a bit of a surprise. If Danny had been awake, and hadn’t just been shot, I’d have been having a word.
“He’s dealing with some very dangerous people, Anna. It’s too dangerous to do it on his own. That’s why I was there tonight.”
That came as a bit of a surprise too.
“You were there? Where?”
“At the restaurant. Not actually inside the restaurant, but outside. Keeping an eye on things.”
“Ah, well that was a bloody big success.” My voice was getting louder.
“No, it wasn’t, but I stopped it getting any worse.”
“What do you mean? It couldn’t have got much worse than being fucking shot at.”
“It could. He could have been killed.”
“Yeah, well that was more by luck than judgement.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“What?”
And then she told me what had happened, and even though I didn’t want to believe a word of it, part of me felt compelled to listen.
Out Of The Red Page 18