Monday's Child

by Clare Revell

  “DCI Shepherds says it’s the only way, and the cops are regular attendees, so it won’t seem strange.”

  Sara shrugged. “All right, then. Walk or drive?”

  “Drive. It’s safer. Dave will pick us up in the morning.”

  “Can we drive through the town as well? And can we go to the sea?”

  “Don’t push your luck. And that’s up to Dave, as he’s driving.”

  Sara took a bite of her food. “This is lovely, thank you. You can cook again.”

  Luke smiled. “We’ll see. It’s your turn tomorrow.”

  8

  After dinner, Sara sat at the computer on one of her websites. She checked the message boards and logged onto the chat room.

  Luke opened the door. “I brought you coffee. What are you doing?”

  “Catching up with some friends.”

  “I thought I said no chatting and no emails, Sara.”

  “I’m only going to be a minute. I want to let them know I’m still around. That’s all.”

  “I don’t want you using that site anymore.”

  Sara glared at him. “I don’t really know any of these people, and we don’t use our real names.”

  Luke’s voice had an angry tinge to it. “That’s exactly my point. You don’t know who any of them really are. You have no idea how unsafe that is. They could be axe murderers for all you know. It’s too easy for people to log on to these websites, befriend people, exchange e-mail or I.M. addresses, and harass them, or worst case scenario, meet up and kill them.”

  “So, what are you saying? I’m not allowed a life anymore?”

  “Not an online one, no.”

  Sara stormed from the room and slammed the door behind her. She flew upstairs and slammed her bedroom door shut, too.

  The door flung open behind her. “Calm down. Why do you get so angry about all this?”

  “I feel like a prisoner.” She ripped the covers of the bed back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going to bed. There’s nothing else to do around here.”

  “For crying out loud, Sara. Stop acting like a child.”

  “If you’re going to treat me like a child, I’ll act like one. Now get out.”

  He did, and she threw herself onto the bed, hurling the pillow at the door as it shut.

  Men.

  ****

  Next morning, Sara woke first and went downstairs.

  She still couldn’t believe he’d yelled at her like that. She’d not spoken to her online friends for months and she used a pseudonym. No one really knew it was her.

  Her conscience pricked her. He’s only doing his job. Give him a break. You know the rules.

  Sara moved over to the phone and recorded the new answer phone message. “Hi, you’ve got through to Luke and Sara. We can’t get to the phone right now, so please leave a message after the beep. Beep. Ha-ha. Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. This is the real beep.”

  She closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness hit her, and her hand rose to her head. Not again. It’d been months since she had gone to church, and she wanted to go today. The last time had been Jamie’s funeral, and the time before that, their wedding.

  She filled the kettle and turned it on as footsteps came down the stairs.

  Luke sauntered in as she sat down. He smiled at her. “Good morning. Are you all right? You’re rather pale.”

  Sara shook her head. “Just the usual allergy to mornings.”

  “Can I make breakfast, or will the smell bother you?”

  “Go ahead.” Sara buried her face in her hands and listened to Luke moving around the kitchen. The smell of bacon filled the air. So far, so good. She didn’t feel like throwing up, yet. “I’m sorry about last night. I was rude and I shouldn’t have been.”

  “No problem. Most people don’t realize you can be traced via your IP address on the computer. If somehow, Austin got hold of your pseudonym, he could find you. Here you go.”

  “No ta.” She pushed the plate back towards him.

  “Ta?” Luke asked. He took a bite of his food.

  “British slang. Means thank you. What time is the service?”

  “Ten thirty. Dave is picking us up at ten.”

  “I’m going to have a bath.” She stood. The phone rang. “Leave it. I put a new message on the answer phone.”

  Luke let it ring. He listened to the message and closed his eyes. “You’re in hiding, not advertising the fact you’re here.”

  Sara sighed. “I thought you wanted me to act like your wife in public. Most married people have messages like that.”

  Luke yanked the tape out.

  “Fine. You do it then.”

  “Sara. We should talk about the Internet.”

  She shot him an icy glare. “There’s nothing to talk about, Leftenant. You’ve made the danger perfectly clear. I’m going for a bath. I may be some time.” She flounced from the room, leaving the coffee untouched.

  ****

  Luke sighed. He’d thought he was getting somewhere. She didn’t see or understand the dangers. Pointing that out to her had made his attempt to befriend her promptly vanish out the window. He carried on eating, no longer hungry, but not willing to waste the food. As he ate he prayed hard, needing a way to get through to Sara.

  He’d almost finished when a loud thud made the floor above him vibrate and the kitchen light rattle against the ceiling. He ran into the hall. “Sara, are you all right?”

  No answer. He took the stairs two at a time, calling her name as he went. He flung open her bedroom door. “Sara?”

  A moan came from the bathroom. Luke charged down the narrow landing and knocked at the door. “Sara?”

  There was another moan, then a faint answer. He reached up and grabbed the keys, unlocking the door. “Sara, I’m coming in, is that all right?”

  “Yes.”

  He opened the door. Sara, wrapped in a towel, sat on the floor, a dazed expression covering her flushed face. She cradled her left ankle in both hands. Luke hunkered down next to her. “What happened?”

  Sara’s face contorted with pain. “I fell. My ankle hurts.”

  “Let me see.” Luke could see how swollen it was already, and he examined it with gentle fingers.

  Sara cried out in pain. “Don’t. Please don’t. It hurts.”

  “We need to get this checked out. Did you hit your head?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s just my ankle.”

  “Did you faint again?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s get you up.” Luke put his hands under her arms and helped her stand.

  Sara cried out and tried to balance on one leg. Luke moved his grasp and swung her into his arms. He pushed aside how his body resonated and sang as she leaned against him. His hands warmed against her and his heart raced with unaccustomed speed. What was wrong with him? Surely he wasn’t developing feelings for her?

  ****

  “I can walk.” Sara knew there was no way she could right now, but she was aware of how little she had on and where Luke’s hands were touching her. Her skin burned with his touch, and his scent was invoking feelings she shouldn’t have. She’d also lied about fainting, but she didn’t need him making more fuss than he already was.

  “Yeah, right.” Luke carried her through to her room and sat her on the bed.

  Sara kept her gaze downwards. “Can you get me some clothes? There’s a shirt and leggings in the wardrobe.”

  “Sure.” Luke opened the wardrobe, took out what she’d asked for, and handed them to her.

  “Thanks.” She pulled underwear out from the drawer next to the bed.

  Luke sat on the opposite side of the bed with his back to her. “I won’t look, but I’m not leaving you alone. I don’t want you fainting again.”

  Sara let the towel fall and put on her bra and shirt. She managed to get the knickers on, but the leggings were impossible. It was as if her entire leg wasn’t there. She should be used to this, hav
ing been in plaster for weeks, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t do it. She threw the leggings to the floor. “I can’t do it.”

  “Can I help you?”

  Sara’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped in horror. Had she heard him right? He wanted to what?

  Luke smiled. “You’re quite safe, I promise. If I was going to make a move, I would have done it already. Lie down.”

  Her face bright red, Sara lay down and closed her eyes. He slid the leggings onto her body, his fingers brushing her legs as he did so. Shivers ran over her, feelings not even Jamie had stirred in her awakening.

  “All done.”

  “Where’d you learn to do that?” Sara sat up after no more than a minute.

  Luke sat next to her. “My eldest sister, Susie, broke her neck in an accident when she was fifteen. She was paralyzed from the shoulders down. We used to take turns dressing her and getting her into her chair.”

  “There are four of you, right? What’s the age gap between you all?”

  “Darren’s thirty-eight, Jodie’s thirty-seven, I’m thirty-five, and Katie’s twenty. Every Christmas we get together at Dad’s place. Darren brings his wife, Jodi brings her husband, and they both bring all the kids and stay for two weeks. I’m an uncle eight times over. Four of each.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It is. Though it’s pretty chaotic most of the time.”

  “I bet. That’s a big gap between you and the youngest.”

  There was a smile on Luke’s face. “Mom always referred to Katie as ‘God’s unexpected miracle’.”

  He hadn’t said how old Susie was, and Susie made five, not four. “How old is Susie?”

  Luke caught his breath. “Susie and Mom died ten years ago. Mom had taken her to a clinic that specialized in her type of injuries. She was making progress. There was a big fire in the accommodation block. They didn’t get out. Smoke inhalation they think, so they wouldn’t have known anything about it.”

  Sara grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  Luke’s eyes glistened. “Even now, it’s hard. I have Dad, but it’s not the same, and it must be harder for you. You lost both your parents.”

  “I have Aunt Mary. She’s wonderful. Dependable, takes no nonsense from anyone. I’ve not spoken to her since the end of June. I miss her like crazy.” She rubbed her ankle.

  “Does your ankle hurt?”

  “Just a tad.” Again a lie, but she didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. She caught his look. “Tad, smidgen, little bit.” She made a tiny gap between her left thumb and forefinger. “This much.”

  Luke stood up. “I know what a tad is. I just think it’s worse than you say. You should get it checked out. We have time before church.”

  Sara checked her watch and laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “It’s eight-fifteen, and you think we have time to go to the hospital, have my ankle X-rayed, and make a ten-thirty service?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

  “In your dreams, mate. I can tell you’ve never encountered the NHS before. That’s National Health Service. It’s brilliant, but understaffed and overworked, especially on a weekend.”

  Luke shook his head and picked up the phone to ring Dave. “Not a problem. You forget we have Dr. Scott. There are ways around the system.”

  “This I must see.” She closed her eyes for a moment, half listening to him talking on the phone. As he ended the call, she opened them again.

  “Dave will be here in a few minutes to take us. He said he’d take us to church after.”

  Sara tried to stand and winced as she put her weight on her leg. She immediately sat down. It hurt a lot more than she was willing to admit, but she didn’t want to spend time with more doctors and hospitals.

  “I’ll carry you.”

  “You will not. Put me down.” She glared at him as he picked her up. The last thing she needed was to be held snug against his chest again. “I said, put me down.”

  “Don’t struggle, or we’ll both fall.” Luke carried her down the winding stairs. He sat her on the couch and handed her coat to her. He knelt at her feet and put her right shoe on. As he got up, the doorbell rang. “Don’t move.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.” She sat still until Luke came back in. “Who is it?”

  “Dave’s here.”

  Sara let Luke pick her up and carry her to the car. “Good morning, Sergeant.”

  Dave started the engine. “Good morning. Carole said she’d meet us at church. We’ll be lucky if we make the sermon.”

  “Told you so, Leftenant.” Sara pushed back into the seat and closed her eyes.

  ****

  When they arrived at the hospital, Sara let Luke carry her into the busy Accident and Emergency Department and put her on the one empty chair. “Thanks.”

  He went over to the desk and showed his ID.

  This is where it gets interesting.

  She stifled a grin as the desk clerk called the department manager across. This wasn’t going to be as cut and dried as Luke hoped. Would Dave help? She glanced sideways at him. No, he wasn’t moving from her side.

  Luke came back over. “It’s like getting blood out of a stone.”

  “It’s called a queue,” Sara explained. “There’s a two hour wait. We’re British. We queue. It’s something we’re very good at.”

  Luke scowled as he picked her up. “It’s not safe for you to queue. But I finally convinced them to find you somewhere private to wait.”

  Sara shook her head as he followed the nurse to a cubicle and laid her on the bed.

  “How long before the doctor comes in?” he asked.

  “Not long.” The nurse pulled the curtains around the bed and left them.

  ****

  After a wait of thirty minutes, the consultant, Doctor Philippa Molesworth, came in. She examined Sara’s leg. “This is fairly recent scar tissue.” Her English accent came as a relief to Sara. “What happened?”

  “I was shot five months ago. I had surgery and was in a cast for several weeks. It really isn’t that bad and doesn’t hurt now, ‘cept my ankle where I twisted it. It’s just him being overprotective and making a fuss over nothing.”

  Dr. Molesworth held her gaze. “Let me be the judge of that, Mrs. Nemec. We’ll need X-rays of the whole leg.”

  Sara sighed, inwardly cringing at the name. She glanced at Luke.

  His lips were set in a taut line, his arms folded across his chest. He liked the idea even less than she did.

  She returned her gaze to the consultant. “Is that necessary, Doctor? I’m five months pregnant.”

  Dr. Molesworth flipped through the chart in her hand. “Mrs. Nemec, it could be a bad sprain, but there’s a chance it’s broken again because of the prior weakness in the bone structure. How long has the cast been off?”

  “Three months.”

  “Let’s hope it’s nothing more than a sprained ankle.” She left, and a porter wheeled Sara to X-ray.

  ****

  Sara lay on the table with a heavy lead apron across her stomach to protect the twins.

  Dave stood guard in the corridor, while Luke, also clad in a lead apron, refused to leave the room. Sara glanced at him. “That apron suits you. You look kind of cute.” She stifled a grin at the scowl he gave her.

  Several X-rays later, the porter wheeled Sara back to the ED. She glanced down at her watch. “Ten ten. Are we taking bets on making it to church on time?”

  Luke smiled, although this time it didn’t leave his lips. “Sure. Before the sermon, and you cook for a week. Sermon or not at all, and I cook for a week.”

  “Make it two weeks, and you’re on.”

  “Confident, are we?”

  “Very.” Sara held out her hand.

  As they shook on it, Luke grinned. “Enjoy cooking for two weeks, then.”

  “I’m sure you will. I’ll even find you an apron.”

  The minutes passed. At ten twenty, Dr
. Molesworth reappeared and sent Sara back to have her leg X-rayed again. As the porter wheeled her back down the corridor, Sara grinned at Luke and tapped her watch. At last she was going to get one over on him.

  ****

  Half an hour later, Sara sat with her arms wrapped around herself, fighting her emotions as her foot was strapped into a splint that reached to just above her ankle. It was only a sprain, but no one was willing to take chances, or listen to her pleas of how careful she’d be.

  Luke wheeled her out to where Dave was waiting with the car. “You won the bet. Why so sad?”

  Sara pointed to the splint. “I’m back to square one.”

  “It’s not square one, Sara. It’s a sprain this time.”

  “I’m on crutches and in a splint.”

  Luke turned to Dave. “Take us home.”

  “I want to go to church. You promised.” Sara clenched her fists.

  Luke ran a hand through his hair. “Sara, the doctor said rest.”

  “I can rest in church.”

  Luke shook his head. “You know, Sara, God will forgive you for not going to church with a sprained ankle.”

  Sara narrowed her eyes. “Does that forgiveness extend to broken promises?”

  Luke rolled his eyes at her. “Church, it is.”

  Dave started the car. Sara gazed out the window. The sun vanished behind thick heavy clouds. She compared the scene to her life. Her sun, Jamie, had gone, and all that remained was dull and gray. A tiny lining edged the clouds in the form of her babies, but she wanted more.

  When would her sunshine return?

  9

  Sara pulled herself up the path into the church.

  “Let me help,” Luke offered.

  Sara shook her head. “I can manage.”

  “Are you always this stubborn?”

  “Yes. At least that’s what Aunt Mary says.” She slid into a pew towards the back. They were in time for most of the sermon.

  Sara glanced around at the windows. Stained glass, like the church she was married in. Memories filled her mind. She rubbed her eyes, wiping the tears before they fell. She didn’t want anyone to see them.