by Leah Murray
He broke off, couldn’t say anymore. Julia squeezed his shoulder, sat down beside him.
Audrey, Samuel, Gus and Shaun came by an hour later and stayed, all subdued. They tried to get Will to go home with them.
`No. I’m not leaving her.’
`Will, you need rest,’ Audrey said.
`I said I’m not leaving.’
For once his mother let him be and they left him. The nurses tried to argue too, told him he couldn’t stay but he stubbornly refused to move and eventually he was left alone, still holding Jo’s hand.
Tired. So tired. But he couldn’t sleep.
Somehow he convinced himself that this vigil was necessary. That if he left she would die. He needed to be there, send her some of his energy, his life force. Help by simply being there. Do something.
Or he would go out of his mind with the grief.
He must have fallen asleep in the chair because his head was resting on the bed when he woke, bent over, his body stiff from the uncomfortable position.
`W ... Will?’
He shook his head. Was that what had woken him? Her voice? In his dream?
Her fingers twitched in his hand and he started, sat up.
From the faint light in the hallway, he could see that her eyes were open.
She tried to smile but she was still weak, still on the verge of the drug-induced sleep and her eyelids drooped again as he leaned over, brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
`I’m here Jo.’
She moved her hand in his. He supposed she was trying to squeeze it but she didn’t have any strength left and soon her breathing deepened again. He sat watching her sleep, prayed to whatever God there was up there that she would pull through.
…
`There’ll be a trial but you don’t have anything to worry about. It was self-defense. No jury in their right mind will convict you for it. We’ve tied him to two murders, a dozen rapes, and three attempted murders.’ Shaun broke off, shook his head. `Unbelievable, isn’t it?’
Will nodded, looked up from the card he was signing. `What will they do with him?’ he asked.
`He’ll be in care for the rest of his life. I don’t know how you managed to get the knife in his spine like that.’
`I wasn’t exactly aiming for his spine,’ Will said drily. He clenched his jaw. `Bastard’s damn lucky he’s alive. I should’ve killed him. I thought I had.’
Shaun squeezed his shoulder. `He’ll suffer more this way. He can’t move anything from the waist down, he’ll be locked away in some institution for a very long time.’
Will nodded with grim satisfaction.
`Anyway, what time are you picking Jo up?’ Shaun said, changing the subject.
Will smiled. `Four. She’ll be glad to be home, I’m sure. I didn’t realize how grumpy she could get eating only hospital food for two weeks.’
Shaun laughed. `So everything is healing well then?’
`Yes. The three deep cuts still look bad, especially the two at the side of her neck, but the rest are healing well.’
He shook his head. `She’ll have a few nasty scars though.’
There was a moment’s pause as the memories of that day hung between them, the thoughts of how easily things could have turned bad.
Will cleared his throat, stood. `Well, it’s three. I guess I’ll go see how she’s doing anyway. See you tonight.’
`Okay, we’ll be there.’
Jo looked at the tub of dark beige mashed potatoes, the soggy green peas, and grimaced. She had asked for a late lunch in the hopes that it would be an improvement on the earlier version. That new kitchen staff would show up for a late shift.
But there was no such luck.
Hungry, she tried a forkful of the mashed potato and wrinkled her nose. It was tasteless, spongy, and made her want to gag.
`You look beautiful like that.’
She looked up at the sound of Will’s voice, swallowed, and glared at him. `Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, in case you haven’t heard.’
He laughed, bent to kiss her on the nose.
She continued to glare at him but her mouth twitched.
`All packed and ready to go home?’
She nodded. `Please get me out of here.’
He ruffled her hair, grinned. `Okay, I’ll go get the nurse and see if we can get you checked out earlier. Back in a sec.’
She watched him leave the room and smiled to herself. He had been so attentive over the last couple of weeks. The first few days she had been weak, not able to focus on much or stay awake for too long but as her body recovered, she had become frustrated at being cooped up in a bed all day.
She’d been allowed to wander around the hospital for an hour or so but that just meant she could walk up and down cold grey corridors or sit in the TV room with the woman who always wore a green dressing gown and stank like cigar smoke.
Neither thought appealed to her much so she had resorted to phoning Will on his mobile every hour, asking him to bring her books or chocolate or simply to talk to her and keep her company. He’d visited her every day and bought her bright orange Gerberas each time. The room was now full of them. She looked around, grinned again. They were so cheerful. It was hard to feel down when there were orange Gerberas around.
But still, she couldn’t wait to get back to the farm.
Will appeared at the door. `Okay, you can go in a few minutes,’ he said, walking over.
A nurse bustled into the room, helped her out of the bed, gave her a plastic bottle of antibiotics and make her promise she wouldn’t do anything but rest for at least another week.
Jo pulled a face at Will as the woman left the room. `I’ve been doing nothing but rest for the last two weeks. I need to start doing things again or I’ll go nuts,’ she said, bending to pick up her suitcase.
`Here, I’ll help,’ Will said, taking it from her.
`I’m okay, I can carry it myself.’
`Jo, you’re meant to be taking it easy.’
She frowned but let him take the suitcase, paused at the door and looked around the room. `My flowers. I want to take all my flowers too.’
He smiled. `I’ll get you some more. The nurse has already said she’ll put these in some of the other rooms to cheer them up a bit.’
`Oh all right then.’
She followed him out the door, blinked at the sunlight.
It was so strange to be outside again. To walk into sunshine, to actually be able to relax and enjoy it. She had her life back, didn’t have to spend every minute looking over her shoulder, wondering what Jack would do next.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts as Will helped her into the Land Rover. She’d refused to think of Jack the past two weeks. Shaun had told her what had happened to him and she’d felt strangely joyful about it. It made her uncomfortable. But not as uncomfortable as the part of her that wished he was actually dead.
Still, he couldn’t hurt her anymore.
She turned slightly, glanced over at Will as he started the engine and backed out the park.
They hadn’t mentioned that day. What had happened. She supposed they’d have to talk about it eventually but for now they both were happy to simply forget, rest, give the wounds time to heal.
A sudden image of Jack driving the knife down at Will’s chest flashed through her mind and she frowned.
No. She wasn’t going to relive that.
It was over.
She turned to look out the window, forced herself to focus on the now familiar scenery and smiled as the car turned into the driveway of the farm.
Home.
Jess and Nemo bounded out from around the side of the house to greet her, just as they had that first day.
Whiskers was sitting on the veranda, licking a paw and raised her head momentarily in what Jo hoped was a greeting before returning to her grooming.
Will had told her that the house rules had changed over the last fortnight. A few quick swipes with her claws had made Whisker
s the new boss and now both Jess and Nemo sidled warily around her as Jo followed Will into the house. She couldn’t help but laugh.
She stepped into the hallway and looked around. Nothing had changed in her absence.
The tears welled up.
It was such a relief to be home.
`Hey, no need to cry,’ Will said, stepping closer and hugging her.
She linked her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. `I’m just so glad to be home,’ she said as he kissed the top of her head.
`It’s good to have you home.’
She sniffed, hugged him tighter. She hadn’t realized until that moment how scared she had been that she would never see the farm again, never see Will again.
She stepped back, wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. `What time is everyone coming?’ she asked.
Will bent to pick up the bags again, started upstairs. `They’ll be here in another hour. Why don’t you come have a rest?’
`But don’t we need to get everything ready?’ she called up after him.
`No, Julia and my mother are bringing food. I think Shelley is too. Her and Grant are back in the cottage now, you know,’ he said, reappearing at the bottom of the stairs.
Jo smiled. `How’s Luke?’
`Good, apparently.’
She nodded. `Okay well I guess I’ll go get ready then,’ she said, starting upstairs.
She showered, enjoying the feeling of the water pulsing against her back and stepped out feeling refreshed. Wiping a circle of steam clear from the mirror so she could start on her make-up, she paused, stared at the scars around her neck and chest. At the hospital, she had not looked too closely at her reflection. Had avoided it, she supposed. But now she couldn’t hide from the ugly reality.
There were a few smaller scars, mostly small nicks on the top of her chest, that would fade into nothing more than faint lines with time. But there was no hiding from the fact that the two large, ugly gashes running along the lower edge of her neck would never disappear.
And she wouldn’t be able to hide them with make-up. Or cover them up with shirts unless she resorted to wearing turtle necks for the rest of her life.
She swallowed against the lump in her throat and continued dressing.
The barbecue that night was great. Everybody bought her cards and get-well soon presents and although she was grateful and touched by the gesture, Jo was glad it didn’t last too long. She was happy to see that Hayley was recovering well, that Julia had become reconciled to her pregnancy and was arguing with Shaun over baby names, that Grant and Shelley were happy to be back at the cottage and baby Luke had grown, that Audrey and Samuel had brought numerous dishes of frozen meals to keep in the freezer so Jo could rest and not have to cook for a few weeks.
Even Laura had sent along a get well soon message. She’d seen Jo in the hospital and had apologized for what had happened. Although they were far from friends, the situation had brought them a bit closer together and somehow Jo knew her working life would be a little calmer from now on.
Nobody at the barbecue mentioned her scars and nobody stared at them but Jo knew they were simply being polite and, although she was happy to see everyone again, she was subdued and felt like curling up into a ball, crying.
`Right, well we better get this one home,’ Grant said eventually and Shelley nodded, stood.
`We’ll be getting on back too then,’ Shaun said and Jo was relieved when his words were echoed by Audrey and Gus. She stood with Will and waved as the last of the cars left the driveway. It was dusk and she could see the lights of the village in the distance, hear the crickets. It was a calm she had missed but she couldn’t appreciate it, she was too caught up in thoughts about her scars and how ugly they made her feel.
She sat on the edge of the bed staring at the TV while Will showered and settled the dogs down for the night, barely glanced up when he came into the room.
`Jo?’
She stared fixedly at the TV, fighting for control, but the tears were stinging against her eyelids and there was a lump in her chest that she couldn’t push down, that escaped in a strangled sob.
`Hey, Jo, what’s wrong?’ Will asked, crouching down in front of her.
She shook her head, couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
`Jo?’
At last she met his gaze, saw his obvious concern and the churning mass of emotion she’d blocked for the past few weeks erupted as she sobbed uncontrollably against his chest. It wasn’t only the scars, it was the whole situation. How close she’d come to death. How terrified she’d been.
`Shhh, it’s okay,’ he said against her hair and she clung to him, desperate for his warmth, comfort. Several minutes passed before her sobs calmed to occasional sniffs.
Her throat was dry and scratchy, her eyes puffy and red and she pulled back from his embrace, rubbed at them with her elbow. `I ... I’m sorry,’ she said, staring at the floor.
He reached up and she felt him brush away a tear with his thumb.
`What’s wrong?’ he asked again.
She sniffed. `Look what he did to me, Will. I just feel so … ugly,’ she said, her voice low. `Why would you want to-‘
`Jo look at me,’ he interrupted.
She kept her head lowered but glanced up at him.
He smiled, ran his hand gently along the line of the deepest scar, following the movement with his eyes. `I don’t see ugly scars Jo. I see courage. I see a beautiful woman who went through hell but faced her fears and fought her way out of it. I see …’ he hesitated, met her gaze again, `I see the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.’
The tears welling in her eyes died. Her jaw dropped and she hurriedly closed it. Swallowed. Blinked. `Uh, Will-’she began, the sound of her heart pumping loud in her ears. She wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly.
`Wait,’ he said, standing and walking over to the bedside table. He opened the drawer, reached in and removed a small box, walked back over to her. `You’re looking nervous again,’ he said, smiling down at her but she couldn’t reply, stared up at him wide-eyed, still in shock. `I bought this last week, was going to wait, but … okay, I’m going to do this properly,’ he said, kneeling down in front of her.
His grin widened as she simply stared down at him, startled out of her tears.
`Will you marry me Jo?’ he asked and she felt her heart burst, couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
She stared at him, at the box still in his hand.
Will groaned. `Jo, I’m on my knees on a wooden floor and you still haven’t answered me.’
`You … you need to give me the ring,’ she said at last.
He glanced down, rolled his eyes and opened the box, handed it to her. She took out the ring, slid it onto her finger and stretched out her hand. It was a gold band studded with diamonds. Simple. Classy. Perfect. She sniffed and smiled at the same time.
`Jo!’
She met his exasperated gaze.
`Oh, sorry. Yes, of course I’ll marry you. I love you William Fletcher,’ she said, and she threw her arms around his neck, pressed her lips hard against his, reveling in the warmth that ignited between them, the way he hugged her tight against him as he stood, shifted her further up the bed and straddled her.
`I warned you not to call me that,’ he said against her lips.
She giggled. `William … William … William’ she said between kisses, laughing and squirming as he tickled her.
`Okay okay. Mercy. I’m sorry,’ she said at last, lying her head back, her eyes streaming with joyful tears as she gasped for breath between laughs.
`I love you Jo,’ he said, staring down at her and she smiled, linked her arms around his neck and drew him down to her.
`I love you too … William.’
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING Ebb Tide. I first wrote the story a few years ago after taking a trip to Daphne du Maurier country and falling in love with the Cornish landscape. How
ever, I subsequently stuck the book in a drawer and forgot about it until this year, when I decided I wasn’t being fair to my characters and determined that they needed to be freed from their dusty prison.
Most of the countryside described in the book is an accurate depiction of the fishing villages scattered throughout eastern Cornwall, but I have taken liberties with the geography here and there if I felt it was necessary for the story. The characters are, of course, fictional, but very much alive and kicking in my head thanks to my vivid imagination!
If you would like a free advance e-copy of my next Cornish romantic suspense (due to be published in 2018) please visit www.leahmurray.net and join the mailing list.
Finally, if you did enjoy reading Ebb Tide, please consider leaving a short review so Will and Jo can reach more readers.
Thanks!