Jane liked the fact that Dexter was patient with Mr Brocklesby, and that he reassured him that he would most certainly be in touch when Mrs Millbank was allowed visitors. Eventually Mr Brocklesby stood up to make his way to the front door, pausing outside the sitting room.
‘She was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. Such a great sport, and so full of energy, and her cocktails are lethal! She could tango like no other woman, and despite being short of money she always dressed like a queen. But she would never marry again, although she certainly had plenty of opportunity… the men flocked around her. I hope I’ll be able to see her soon. We go back a long way.’
Jane thought of the small figure of Daphne in the hospital bed, her leg missing. Dexter was clearly eager for him to leave but Mr Brocklesby seemed drawn to the photographs lining the walls.
‘She goes into the West End two or three times a week, to visit the art galleries and theatres. She always keeps abreast of the latest artists and knows all the latest plays, films, and actors… but I’m not that mobile so I rarely accompany her.’
‘Why don’t you see Mr Brocklesby out, Jane?’ Dexter said.
Jane escorted Mr Brocklesby down the hall, and into the main hallway of the building.
‘You seem to care for Mrs Millbank a great deal,’ she said.
‘I adore her and always have. So many of our friends have passed on… I’ve buried two wives. I now live in what they call “sheltered accommodation”, so it took me a while to get over here.’
They walked out of the main front door and Mr Brocklesby became short of breath, leaning heavily on his walking frame.
‘She is coming home, isn’t she? Only it seems strange to have police officers in her flat. She is a very private woman, you know. When will I be able to see her?’
‘Soon I hope. We have your contact numbers, and I’ll pass on your good wishes to Mrs Millbank. I’m sure she will be keen to see you when she has recovered.’
Jane felt badly about not being able to give him more details, and even worse about the fact that she doubted Daphne would be able to cope alone with her injuries, and return to living in her flat but for her safety Jane didn’t dare divulge any more.
Mr Brocklesby shook Jane’s hand and thanked her as he made his way towards his mobility car. It took a while for him to get his walking frame inside before he drove off.
Dexter came outside to watch the pale blue car drive away. ‘Nice chap. Pity to have to lie to him, but it’s basic security until we know how useful she is going to be.’
‘I don’t think she’ll be able to cope coming back home… she’ll be in a wheelchair.’
‘From what Brocklesby said about her, I think Daphne will find a way of managing. As soon as I know she’s allowed to have visitors I’ll make sure he gets driven there to see her.’
‘So you do have a heart.’ Jane smiled, pleased to see Dexter’s mood had lifted.
He cocked his head to one side and smiled. ‘You bet I have… I’m just not a morning person, especially after a row with Crowley. Give me a couple of minutes as I need to call into the station to double-check our walking-frame chap.’
Crowley listened at the other end of the phone as Dexter told him the old lady’s flat had been given a clean sweep.
‘Is Tennison with you?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Can you notify the armed officer at the hospital to allow her to visit? She’s got some reading glasses for Daphne, and it’s a good thing to keep her on friendly terms with our witness. Don’t worry, she won’t be discussing the bomber’s description with her.’
‘Good. Seems you’re on friendly terms with Tennison?’ Crowley asked, mockingly.
‘I’m looking out for her, as requested.’
‘Not got into her knickers yet?’ Dexter glanced over to Jane to make sure she was out of earshot.
‘For Christ’s sake, leave it out, Crowley!
As they drove back towards St Thomas’ Hospital, Dexter was affable and Jane was enjoying his company. He told her Crowley said it was OK for her to take the glasses to Daphne and changed the subject.
‘So, how’s the new flatmate? Has she moved in yet?’
‘Yes, last night… She had so much stuff, even though when I asked if she had a lot of belongings she said she had very few. I don’t know how it’s all going to fit in. Also, she’s a vegetarian and has endless tins of pulses and bottles of vitamins.’
‘Just never stand downwind of a veggie!’
Jane laughed. ‘Thanks for that advice. I’m sure it will all work out.’
Dexter told her the lab scientists had begun to piece together the type of bomb used, as well as the detonator distance. The team had agreed that it felt as though this was the calm before the storm. Without any arrests or suspects under surveillance the IRA might be waiting for the next opportunity to create terror on the streets of London.
At the hospital Jane showed her ID at the reception desk and made her way up to see Daphne, who had been moved to another private room away from the fire escape, for further security measures. As Jane walked along the corridor, Michael, the charge nurse, saw her.
‘I wondered when you’d be back!’ he said with a smile. ‘I’d very much like to see you away from this environment. Are you free tonight, maybe for a drink or something to eat?’
‘That would be lovely, but I’m not sure what time I’ll be off duty. I could call you when I get back to where I’m working, and then we could arrange to meet up?’ Jane said, pleased.
‘Great! Now, let me give you an update on our patient. She’s making strong headway. We’re slightly concerned about the healing process, and she might need further surgery as in this kind of amputation there can be a risk of gangrene… the surgeons were checking it out early this morning. If the wound doesn’t heal then she’ll have to undergo another operation to amputate the remaining part of her thigh.’
‘Oh God, I hope not.’
‘She’s remarkably relaxed about it, but we’ve been administering more morphine for the pain. She does ask for me to constantly increase the level… says she likes the feeling of floating, especially at night… she says she has wonderful dreams! We’ve got to be very careful as patients can often have an adverse reaction to drugs. I am obviously aware of the importance of keeping her stable, but you’ll see that she has regressed slightly and isn’t eating as well as we would like her to. We do still have concerns about her.’
Michael led Jane down the main ward and through the double doors to the private section. The armed officer was sitting outside her room and promptly stood up when Jane approached. He had already been given her name to allow access, so Jane signed the record sheet, giving her time of arrival, then entered the room.
Daphne was still shrouded with a cage covering her from her waist down, which was draped in a white sheet. She was lying flat with one pillow behind her head. Her face was pinched and she seemed smaller and frailer. The lids of her eyes, which were closed, had a faint purple colour, and her white hair looked as if it needed to be washed, and the greasy strands were combed back from her forehead.
Jane pulled up a chair and took out the envelope containing the spectacles. She pulled out the three pairs of glasses and put them on the bedside cabinet. Daphne’s arms looked painfully thin, with awful black bruises from the cannulas. Nobbled veins stood out from the wrinkled loose skin, and her tiny hands were the size of a child’s.
Jane was expecting to have to wait a while for Daphne to wake up, but after only a few minutes she began to stir and murmur, and Jane leaned closer to hear.
‘You smell nice,’ Daphne said. She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Jane. ‘You get used to having so many different people coming and going and they all smell of hospitals… you know, that Dettol smell. You smell fresh.’