Not that anyone would be bothered even if he did nothing for another two weeks. Except it did matter, would matter to her family, whoever and wherever they were. She deserved to be treated properly and professionally, and so far it looked as though that was not the case.
And that was one of the things Henry prided himself on… fighting for the dead.
Then he started to think about Jennifer Sunderland and what little he knew about her and her husband, Harry. Rich people, good life — on the surface. But what was there underneath, what would Henry find when he scraped away the veneer?
‘Behind closed doors,’ he heard himself say and thought about Harry Sunderland, whose reaction to the news of his wife’s death did seem genuine… except for one niggling thing… which was giving Henry a very strange sensation.
Could I be wrong? he wondered. But if he was right, what significance did it have?
He didn’t know.
His face hurt — a lot — and all of a sudden he didn’t care.
All he wanted was to get out of hospital and go to bed.
He opened his good eye when he heard the curtain swish back — and the most beautiful sight in the world stood before him.
‘Babe,’ he whispered.
‘God, Henry,’ Alison Marsh gasped on seeing his battered face. She swooped across the gap towards him, her eyes taking in all his injuries. ‘You didn’t say you were hurt this badly,’ she complained.
‘Looks worse than it is,’ he lied.
‘I don’t believe that,’ she said, cutting through the fib. ‘I was a military nurse, you know.’
Alison Marsh was Henry’s ‘lady-friend’. He wasn’t exactly certain what the correct term was. ‘Girlfriend’ seemed inappropriate, ‘partner’ not quite right, because they didn’t live together, yet ‘lady-friend’ sounded like something from a Jane Austen novel. Whatever… the fact was they were together, madly in love with each other, and the future looked as bright as it could be.
Alison was the landlady-owner of a pub called the Tawny Owl in Kendleton, a village deep in the countryside far to the east of Lancaster. Henry had met her when he stumbled into the pub and the middle of a blood-soaked stand-off between rival gangsters.
Henry and Alison began their relationship tentatively after Kate’s death, fully aware of the sensitivities surrounding it. Even now, several months after Kate’s death and months after they had started seeing each other, Henry was still getting untold grief from his youngest daughter, Leanne; his eldest, Jenny, was much more sanguine about the matter.
Despite this, Henry and Alison were moving forward.
He guessed that one day, in the not too distant future, the question of marriage might be raised. Surprisingly for him, it didn’t faze him at all. The prospect of living in a country pub was very appealing. As well as being with Alison, who he adored, of course.
‘Is there any part of you I can kiss?’ she asked.
‘Lots of parts,’ he said, ‘but here will do nicely for the moment.’ He puckered his lips and she kissed him softly, before sitting on the edge of the examination couch and gripping his hand.
The curtain was yanked back and a young Asian doctor appeared with an X-ray of Henry’s head in his hands.
‘I’m going to stay the night. The nurse has told me there’s a room close by and I can get some sleep if I need to.’
‘That’s fine,’ Flynn nodded to Diane. ‘Is it OK for me to keep hold of your car? You can call me any time — and I mean, any time — to get picked up or whatever you need. Middle of the night…’ He grinned stupidly.
‘Thanks.’
‘Do you need anything now?’ he volunteered.
‘No, I’m fine.’ She patted the bulky shoulder bag she had brought along with her. ‘Night essentials just in case.’
‘Just let me know. I’ll go and get something to eat now, probably down at the Victoria, then I’ll bed down for the night in the boat, then open up the shop tomorrow and hold the fort.’
‘You’re a love,’ she smiled weakly. ‘An alley cat with a mushy heart. At least that’s what Colin calls you.’
‘I’ve heard worse.’
‘But look — I’ll be here all night and I don’t want to tie you down to the end of a phone line. And I’ll bet you’re gagging for a pint, so just go back, enjoy a drink with your meal and don’t worry about me. I’ll call you in the morning.’
Flynn gave her a peck and a hug and watched her walk back into the post-op unit to be with her husband.
‘Snapped like a desiccated twig,’ declared the doctor gleefully, holding up the X-ray and pointing. ‘Even through the swelling, the X-ray has managed to pick out the fracture. See!’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Alison said, peering. ‘Look, Henry.’
Henry could not see the detail, but he was fascinated by the X-ray that clearly showed his skull — cranium, jaws, teeth. Pretty ugly and an unsettling insight into what he would look like once the maggots had eaten away his flesh.
The doctor lowered the sheet. ‘There’s not much we can do about it, unfortunately. Can hardly put a plaster cast around your head, can we?’ he chuckled. ‘It’ll be down to time and good pain relief.’
‘Like last time,’ Henry said.
‘It’s been broken before?’ Henry nodded and the doctor examined the X-ray closely again. He sighed. ‘Can’t see the previous break, so it could be in exactly the same place. But it should still heal well.’
‘Didn’t last time.’
‘I’m sure it will this time,’ the doctor answered him.
A few minutes later after being given a prescription for a string of painkillers, Henry was discharged. The suggestion that he might have to stay in for overnight observation was thankfully not raised, and he didn’t remind them.
Hand in hand, he and Alison walked towards the exit, discussing what to do about his car. Because of the size of the swelling and the fact it had closed one eye, he had been advised not to drive. The prospect of leaving the Merc in the police garage wasn’t appealing, though. It would be safe from thieving, but not damage — and Henry didn’t want to abandon it there.
Alison pulled Henry to a jarring halt. ‘Look, I’ll drive you to the Owl in my car and we’ll collect yours in the morning when the swelling might have gone down,’ she insisted.
‘I can drive. One eye’s plenty good enough. I know where I’m going.’
‘The country roads have no street lights — so you can’t.’
‘I can so.’
She gave him her best look of disdain, then shook her head at his stubbornness and glanced down the corridor to see a figure walking disconsolately towards them from the surgical wards. She was about to give Henry a piece of her mind, but did a double-take.
‘That looks like… oh my God, it is. Steve Flynn.’
‘Is it?’ Henry reckoned to peer at him.
‘Yes, it is… Steve,’ she called.
If there had been stones or pebbles on the floor, Flynn would have been kicking them forlornly along. He stopped and raised his head at the sound of his name.
‘Alison?’ he said uncertainly.
She released her grip on Henry’s hand. ‘Steve… it’s so good to see you,’ she said genuinely, pacing away from Henry and giving Flynn an enormous hug, the sight of which opened Henry’s good eye with infuriation. Flynn had met Alison at the same time as Henry in Kendleton.
‘You look really well,’ she said, drawing away and inspecting him from tip to toe. Flynn always looked well. A deep Canary Island tan on a well-proportioned and extremely fit body, six-two, and looks to match. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Hasn’t he told you?’ Flynn indicted Henry with a sneer, then a double-take as he saw Henry’s face.
Alison gave Henry an accusing look. ‘No, he hasn’t.’
He responded with a wimpy shrug. ‘I haven’t had time — and why would I, anyway?’