‘Across the road now. Make the slightest noise and I’ll cut you right here.’
Kate walked across the road with him, her mind in turmoil. Light spilled through the cracks of the curtained windows on the apartments on the right-hand side of the alleyway. She blinked, not sure how much the moisture in her eyes was melted snow or how much was tears. As they passed the church, John Garland switched hands with the knife and pulled out a key.
‘Be prepared, that’s what the Scouts say, isn’t it? Well you can consider me a good Scout in that regard,’ he said as he led her up to the Seventeenth Roxborough’s Scout hut and turned the key in the lock.
Thoughts flashed through Kate’s mind. The dream she had of Siobhan being married. The daughters she was supposed to have with Jack. The baby that she was carrying. She thought about the thickness of the coat, how hard he would have to stab to penetrate it. She thought about the risks if she tried to escape. But the thought uppermost in her mind was that she was not going to be a victim. If she went into that Scout hut with that man, even if she survived if her baby was hurt, she would never forgive herself. She whispered a silent I love you to Jack Delaney and said, ‘I consider you a sick son-of-a-bitch and you can rot in fucking hell!’
John Garland stabbed at her with his knife as Kate reeled backwards, slamming against the wall of the hut and slid to the ground.
John Garland raised the blade above his head, then screamed as the door to the hut opened and Jack Delaney stabbed a screwdriver straight into his right eye.
69
DI TONY HAMILTON yawned and pulled the car to the side of the road. He had seen enough snow and traffic to last a lifetime.
Emma Halliday opened her eyes and stretched. ‘This is my house,’ she said, having wiped her side-window.
‘I know.’
‘How are you going to get home?’
‘I figured I’d phone for a taxi.’
‘You’ll be lucky in this weather.’
‘I didn’t think you should drive.’
‘I’ll be fine now.’
‘Well … like you said it’s pretty foul out there.’
‘Why don’t you come in for a cup of coffee?’ she said.
‘I don’t drink coffee.’
Emma smiled. ‘That’s okay. I haven’t got any.’
‘In which case I’d love a cup.’
Laura Chilvers looked at her bedside clock. It was dark and the glow of the illuminated numbers helped her locate the button for Classic FM. She pushed it and the lush sounds of Mahler’s Third Symphony filled the room.
She closed her eyes and moaned as a hand cupped her right breast, her nipples hardening, her heart beating faster in her chest.
‘Do you want me to hurt you again?’
Laura opened her eyes and ran her hand down the woman’s long blonde hair. ‘No, Nicola,’ she said. ‘I just want you to hold me.’
‘The other night you scared me, Laura.’
‘I don’t remember it. I’m sorry.’
‘You made me beat you, hurt you. Use toys. You took so many drugs, drink. Punching the wall. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘But you brought me home, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. Maybe I should have stayed, but you told me to leave.’
‘Probably best that you did.’
‘But I don’t understand. What happened? Why were you like that?’
Laura kissed Nicola on the mouth and put her arms around her. ‘Just hold me,’ she said.
‘I only want to help.’
‘You can’t help.’
‘What is it?’
‘I did a very bad thing.’
Bible Steve walked along the corridor. He felt calm for the first time in a long while. He knew that it was due to the Valium they had given him, to help with the severe alcohol withdrawal symptoms he would be experiencing. But he felt calm. Cogs were clicking into place, wheels were in motion. He looked down at his battered, old hands and didn’t recoil with horror as he had previously. He was beginning to understand, and he knew that understanding was the first step to being healed, although he very much suspected it was too late for that.
He stopped outside the room next to the one where he had been treated and looked inside. An elderly lady had fallen asleep by the side of a hospital bed. A man lay there with an oxygen mask over his face. Wires and tubes were connected to his body. The man’s breath was a low, ragged gurgle. Bible walked into the room and looked at the various monitors. Staring down at the man for a moment or two, he returned to the monitoring equipment and turned a dial.
Jack Delaney held Kate’s hand as she lay on the hospital bed. The technician moved the scanning device and Kate smiled as she saw the images appear on the monitor.
‘Absolutely nothing to worry about,’ said the ultrasonographer.
‘Not even a scratch,’ added Delaney. ‘Who did you think you were, Superwoman?’
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Kate. ‘I’m going to need a new coat.’
‘I’m going to need a new screwdriver,’ said Delaney.
Kate grimaced and gestured towards Siobhan who was busy checking the scan image.
‘Yeah, sorry.’
‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Jack. You saved my life. You saved both our lives.’
‘Nah, you’re a tough cookie, Kate. You’d have had his measure. You sure you’ve not got a drop of the Irish in you?’
Kate laughed. ‘Shall we go home?’
‘Yeah, let’s do that,’ said Delaney. ‘We’ve got a tree to decorate.’
‘Yay!’ said Siobhan and clapped her hands. Delaney looked from her and back to Kate and, as he ran his hand over her stomach, he had to blink his eyes, which were suddenly moist.
Part Four
70
Monday morning …
KATE WALKER WALKED into the intensive-care room. Patricia Hunt was in her usual place by her husband’s side, keeping vigil. Dr Lily Crabbe was writing up some notes on Geoffrey Hunt’s chart, then hung it back on the rail at the base of the bed. She smiled briefly at Kate and stifled a yawn with her hand.
‘Busy night?’ asked Kate.
‘Always is.’
‘Good morning, Kate,’ said Reverend Hunt with a warm smile.
‘You seem much better today, Geoffrey.’
‘He’s on the mend,’ agreed Lily Crabbe. It was only yesterday, Kate remembered, that the registrar was telling her that she didn’t think he would make it.
‘Bit of a scare last night. But looks like we have the infection beaten.’
‘It’s a miracle,’ said Patricia.
The registrar headed off and Patricia stood up. ‘I am just going to get him a cup of tea. Would you like one, Dr Walker?’
‘Why don’t I walk with you, Patricia? Good to see you looking so well, Geoffrey. You take good care of yourself.’
‘I will, thank you, Doctor.’
Kate walked out with Patricia to the vending machine at the end of the corridor.
‘Pneumonia can be a dangerous thing for a man of his age. He’s been very lucky.’
‘I know.’
‘I looked at his X-rays, his chest X-rays.’
‘Yes?’ Patricia fished out a fifty-pence piece from her purse.
‘His name’s not really Geoffrey Hunt, is it?’
The older woman dropped the coin, but didn’t seem to notice it as it clattered to the ground.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I got his brother’s medical records. The man in the ground had a perfectly uninjured rib cage. The X-rays I looked at here last night showed an old bullet wound. A wound to the chest. Geoffrey’s brother had such a wound. He got it in Zambia trying to defend some children, according to the report I read.’