by Shaun Baines
“Would you feel better if I was still in prison?”
She looked away and he felt a stab of guilt. While he waited for her to respond, they watched a young waiter deliver a cappuccino into a shadowy corner to return empty handed and shaking.
“How did you get out?” Monica asked.
“Does it matter?”
Monica pushed out her chair and made to leave.
“Wait. I’m sorry. You know I’m not good at this,” he said.
She hovered, running her hands through her spiky hair. Scott tried to remain calm. He knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words. It was typical of his life. He just had to hope Monica was feeling sympathetic.
She sat back down, breathing heavily through her nose. “I’m sorry about your Dad.”
“Are people talking?” he asked, peering into his inky coffee.
“About what?” Monica adjusted the sleeves on her coat again. “If you’re talking about us having sex - “
“Making love,” Scott corrected before Monica continued with a grimace. “If you’re talking about us fucking all over Five Oaks, then no. Nobody knows.”
Scott straightened in his chair. He took a sip of his coffee. It was cold and bitter in his mouth. “I thought we fell in love.”
“We slept together.”
“But I told you how I felt by the lake,” he said. “I’ve never said those words to anyone before.”
“Not even your wife?”
“Especially not her.”
He scratched at his temple and fought a rising panic. He wasn’t accustomed to these emotions. They were overwhelming. He had no idea what that might herald for his future, but sensing he was about to lose the only woman he had ever loved, Scott was willing to try harder.
“I married Lily because it was the right thing to do. It looked good on paper and she never asked for much, but I fell in love with you even though it was wrong.” He shook his head, feeling the heat in his face. “Does that make any sense? I just want you to know how I feel.”
Monica smiled at him, her eyes brightening. She reached over the table and took his hand. He let her do it, glad for the smallest of contact with her, but he didn’t return her smile. There was something wolfish about Monica’s face that made him uneasy.
“I have something to tell you,” she said. “You’re going to be a father.”
It was as if he had suddenly been hollowed out. His breath, his ability to move, his sense of direction. They were all gone, replaced with a serious bout of vertigo, but the room was motionless. It was Scott who was spinning.
“But…?” Scott asked, not wanting to be blunt.
She patted him on the hand. “It’s yours. Trust me.”
“Mine?” He smiled into space and although they were in a darkened room, he felt sure the world saw how happy he was. Why were they drinking coffee? It should be champagne, he thought. It should be a celebration. At Five Oaks with family. He looked at Monica and lost himself in her big, round eyes. Five Oaks with my family and a new start for all of us.
“Mine?” he asked again.
Monica nodded, letting go of his hand and steepling her fingers together. “Now I know we can’t be together. You’re obviously bothered about people talking about us, but I don’t have a job or friends or a place to stay.”
Scott’s face clouded over. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t raise a baby on my own without money, Scott. If you could maybe give me an allowance or something, I could have your child.”
“I have money. You know that. I’ve inherited my father’s empire. You’ll be set for life.”
“I need enough for a new house with a garden for the baby when it grows up. A car. Money for a nanny. It all adds up. What if I wanted to go on holiday? How am I going to afford that?”
She had no idea what he’d endured since his arrest, but this moment was by far his worst. Dreams raised and crushed over and over in a split, dizzying second. He might not feel like himself, but his father hadn’t raised a fool. He was raised to be sharper than most. Sharp enough to draw blood, in fact.
“We’ll have to go private for the birth,” he said. “Say, why don’t we pay Dr Hilltop to be our private physician? Just until the baby’s born.”
Monica clapped her hands. “And for a few months afterward. To make sure I’m okay after the birth.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a father,” he said, grinning.
Monica placed her hand on his. “And I think you’ll be a wonderful, generous father, Scott. I really do.”
He snatched her hand, holding it firmly, but not so hard as to hurt her. He loved this woman after all. “You can have it all, Monica. Wealth, power, luxury, but nothing comes for free.”
“What do you want in return? We can’t have sex again. Your Dad’s dead. It’s too freaky even for us.”
Scott’s cold heart pumped again, dowsing the flames of his wild emotions with liquid ice. It was an easy sensation, recognisable and comforting. It didn’t make him happy because the old Scott didn’t know what that meant. It made him feel numb and he preferred that.
Tomorrow, when this was all over, he’d find that bald man by the bus stop and take him out onto the moors. He wasn’t sure what he’d do then. Maybe choke him to death on small change, he mused. He’d work the details out later, but Harold Spicer was definitely in for a raping. He wondered if Spicer’s mother was still alive. He could arrange for the event to be taped and sent to her for Christmas.
“Scott? Are you listening to me?”
He tuned back in and saw Monica staring at him, a crease in her perfect brow. At that moment, he loved her more than ever and though she might not love him now, she would in time.
Stretching out the fingers of his hand, Scott slowly closed them into a fist. “Well, if I can’t have your body, I’ll take your life instead.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Ward Sister showed Daniel into a small office and quickly closed the door behind them. The room was filled with metal filing cabinets and cork noticeboards covered with memos and pamphlets. There were files in beige boxes and in the corner, a mainframe computer. With its grey walls and grey carpet, it reminded Daniel of a prison cell.
The Ward Sister rubbed her nose against the dust motes in the air. “I hate coming in here. It’s all admin. I got into nursing to help people.”
Switching on the computer, she placed her notebook by the keyboard. Daniel stood dumbly by as she made her way through various screens until she reached a login page.
“The way Hilltop locked us out of Eisha’s records was beyond unprofessional. It was reckless.”
“I notice you’re calling him Hilltop, not doctor. Do I need to worry?”
“Everyone thinks I’m just a busybody, but I see things, Mr Dayton. I pride myself on it. Without conscientious people like me, this hospital would collapse. The way he fussed over Eisha like a mother hen. I’m sorry, but there are other patients who needed his help. He’s not going to risk another child’s life so he can take a day off.” She turned in her chair to face him. “This is me putting an end to whatever relationship he has with the Daytons. Are you okay with that?”
The floor creaked as Daniel shifted his weight. He’d said nothing of Hilltop’s role in his father’s organisation nor how he ended up there. For a woman as intelligent as the Ward Sister, the connection was obvious and there was no need to go into the details now. He was simply pleased she’d switched alliances. If things played out the way he anticipated they would, it was a move she may come to regret. Because everyone regretted getting involved with a Dayton.
“Is this how you access patients’ records?” he asked.
The Sister tapped her notebook. “If you have the right password.”
“You stole it?”
She turned back to the computer and her fingers pecked at the keyboard. The screen changed several times until she entered Eisha’s name and patient number, and stopped to examin
e her records. Her eyes grew wide and she placed a shaking hand on her lips.
“What is it?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sister. What is it?”
“Do you know what benzodiazepine is?”
He shot her the kind of look that left scorch marks, but the Ward Sister didn’t see it. She was fixated on the screen. “Hilltop has been combining it with zolpidem to keep your daughter in a tranquilised state.”
“A fucking tranquilised state? What do you mean?”
“Calm down, Mr Dayton.”
Daniel lashed out at a pile of paperwork stacked neatly on the filing cabinet. The papers parachuted to the ground. “I don’t understand. Is that medicine? What is it?”
The Sister looked at the paper littered around her feet. “It will take a full day to collate that back together, Mr Dayton.”
He paced the room, leaving footprints on the scattered paper, trying to ignore the Sister’s withering glare. He had travelled back to Newcastle for answers. It hadn’t occurred to him how much it would hurt when he found them.
“The whole thing was a lie designed to lure me back,” he said, remembering his enemy’s counsel. “It was my father. He was the only one who wanted me to return. He wanted to use me as a weapon against Fairbanks.”
The Ward Sister hurled her notebook at him. It slapped his face and dropped to the floor. “I was right. This is all about your family, isn’t it?”
He stopped pacing. “It always is.”
“Eisha is in a coma: an induced coma caused by the medication Hilltop was giving her. The records given to the nurses make no mention of it. Obviously. As far as we were concerned, she was on saline and nutrient bags. That’s all.”
“Hilltop made it look like she was in a coma when there was nothing actually wrong with her?”
She studied the screen, her fingers tapping angrily on the keyboard.
“This is terrible. Just terrible.”
“Answer me,” Daniel shouted.
The Sister turned in her chair and fixed him with a stern, matriarchal stare.
“Let’s not have any more temper tantrums, Mr Dayton. I’ve just discovered my precious ward is a place of child abuse. If you take a deep breath and give me a moment, I would like to know if my life’s work has been built on sand.”
Her face was a naked mixture of anger and grief stopping him in his tracks. She returned to the screen and he looked at the mess he’d made of her paperwork. Stooping to the floor, he fumbled it together and made slow work of putting it in alphabetical order. By the time he realised it probably wasn’t arranged in alphabetical order to begin with, it formed a neat pile on top of the filing cabinet.
The Ward Sister finished reading Eisha’s records and pinched the bridge of her nose. “This file is in his private directory. It isn’t linked to the system. Why would he keep a record of his crime? We were bound to find it eventually.”
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Is my daughter okay?”
“She’s fine,” she said, patting his hand, “apart from being mistreated by a doctor who will shortly be going to jail.”
“Is there anything in there about who brought Eisha in? Hilltop wasn’t behind this. Someone made him do it.”
“Someone you know?”
She attempted to scrutinise his expression, but he was impervious. The less she knew, the safer she would be, he thought. He owed her that much.
The Ward Sister finally relented and turned back to the computer. “There’s nothing in there.”
“Does it have Hilltop’s address?”
The Sister hesitated. “Are you taking him to the police?”
It was a stupid question and she knew it. Still she wrote down Hilltop’s address on a piece of paper and gave it to Daniel. He noticed her hand shake as she let go, her eyes never leaving its surface.
“He’s done a terrible thing, hasn’t he?” she asked him.
Daniel nodded, folding the paper in two before placing it in his back pocket. “You said yourself, he’s a child abuser. He may have been keeping an eye on her, but he still falsely imprisoned a child, whether she was in a hospital or not.”
“But the law states - “
“I know what the law states, Sister, but the law lets people down. How can you expect people to move on when punishment is limited to feeding and clothing someone for the rest of their lives? Hilltop deserves something more.”
The Ward Sister fought back a sob. “You’ve stained me, Mr Dayton. Before I met you, all I wanted was to do my job and now I’ve become an accomplice in something that sickens me to my soul.”
Daniel ran his hands down his face. “It happens to everyone eventually.”
The Ward Sister dried her eyes and switched off the computer, sending the room into muted darkness. When she looked at him, her face was hard. “The next time I see you, Mr Dayton, it will be to collect your daughter from my ward. I don’t want to see either of you again. Understand?”
“Can you get my daughter out of her coma?”
“Don’t worry about that. Worry about what I’m telling you. Your daughter will wake up in the next twenty-four hours. I’ll cover this up as best I can, but remember what I said. The next time I see you will be the last.”
Daniel nodded his consent. “I don’t want my daughter caught up in this. I don’t want her to know the truth. Not yet, anyway.”
“What are you going to do about Hilltop?”
He couldn’t answer the question. Not because he didn’t know, but because it would place the Ward Sister in further trouble. Hilltop was as guilty as a man could be, but he was acting under orders. Daniel needed to know whose orders he had followed.
They walked out of the room together. The Ward Sister didn’t say goodbye. She turned her back and walked away.
“Sister?”
She stopped, but didn’t face him. There was something about the stiffness in her shoulders that dried his mouth.
“If you ever need anything, we’re…the Daytons, I mean…we can help. With things.”
Disappointment radiated from her. She picked up her pace and disappeared around a corner. He listened to the squeak of her shoes fade into silence.
If the measure of his origins was how far he could corrupt innocent people, then Daniel was a Dayton to his core. Just like the father who hurt his family to win a war. Just like everyone who bore the Dayton name. It was in him as sure as he had blood in his veins.
He wasn’t going to let that corruption seep into his daughter. Eisha would be back in his arms in twenty-four hours and it would be over at last. He could take her to a new home, perhaps taking Lily too and they could start a life with Newcastle and the Daytons far behind them.
But there was blood to be shed first.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Dr Hilltop eased himself on to the garden bench and dusted dry soil from his work trousers. He lived alone in a three storey Edwardian house in the suburbs of Sunderland. The area was quiet and the neighbours kept themselves to themselves, save for occasionally troubling him to sign a petition against council changes effecting their comfortable lives. Since his wife died last year, it was up to him to smile gamely and listen to their complaints.
Retirement age was looming. He remained active, playing golf twice a week, but his greatest joy was his garden. It was long and narrow with a green lawn he fed on a monthly basis and borders stocked with mature, herbaceous plants. It had been neglected lately due to other demands on his time. He blamed the Daytons for that, but his nightmare would be over soon and he could get back to his simple pleasures.
His last job today was the biggest. Although the weeds had been cleared, he still had to chop down the cherry tree at the bottom of his garden. He had planted it as a sapling when his son Brandon was born and like his son, the tree had fully matured. He remembered sitting under it on the day Brandon had received his university results. He hated the idea of destroying something th
at held so many memories, but it was a job he had been putting off for years. It was too big and cast too many shadows. He would replace it with a play house. Perhaps Brandon might introduce him to his grandchild then, who was now four years old.
“You can’t keep doing this,” Brandon had said, “and I can’t watch you do it. Think about Mam. Think about the stress you’re putting her under. You’ll kill her one of these days.”
What would Brandon have done? It was a question he asked himself over and over, but his son was no gambler. He had witnessed how close his father had repeatedly brought them to ruination. Losing serious money to Ed Dayton was a dangerous hobby and debts always had to be paid. At first it had been false prescriptions and tending to knife and gunshot wounds. When Daniel Dayton foolishly got his girlfriend pregnant, it was Hilltop who delivered the baby and falsified the documentation. Afterwards, he became the Dayton’s personal physician and his fate was sealed.
But when he was approached to look after Eisha, it had all gone too far. It didn’t matter that he acted under duress and he pleaded not to be involved. He had done something his son would never countenance.
As he studied the cherry tree, calculating which branch to remove first, guilt gnawed at his conscience. He could have gone to the police and told them everything. Redemption didn’t always follow confession, but at least his family would have been safe. Or would they? If the Daytons could buy themselves a doctor, he was sure they could buy themselves a policeman or two.
He didn’t know much about their organisation, but he’d heard things at the roulette table. There was a back room in a pub called The Royal Oak. He had checked in his coat and ordered an orange juice while he took his lucky seat at the table. The crumbling walls were decorated in neon signs for Budweiser and Pepsi. The carpet stuck to his feet if he lingered too long, but it didn’t matter. Neither he nor his fellow degenerates were there for the atmosphere.
He nodded at the man sitting by his side. No-one here offered their names, but he recognised his oily ponytail and the stench of his aftershave. Hilltop hadn’t seen him for a while, but the lure of the tables was too strong to resist. After he’d sold Brandon’s new car to cover a debt, his shame sent him to Gambler’s Anonymous, but he only attended for two months. It had felt like an eternity.