Hope's Vengeance (40 page)

Claudia silenced him with a glare, her fingers still wrapped around Hope’s wrists, feeling the rapid heartbeat and the clamminess of her skin. Her body calmed, the convulsing subsiding, and she appeared to be asleep, peaceful, dreamy and calm. Claudia instantly dragged her into the recovery position, manipulating the loose limbs to make her comfortable, and took the wrist again, once more concentrating on Hope’s pulse, the thudding now subdued and slow.

Krein broke the icy, soundless panic. “The paramedics are on their way.”

The Big Decision

The pain had stopped and she felt as if she was floating, warm sun bathing her, the bright sunlight swamping her brain. Nothing hurt any more. She was tired, the insides of her body battered and bruised, and the silence was blissful.

She was unaware of the commotion and panic around her body, unfeeling to the heavy hands that pressed intermittently into her chest, forcing her blood to circulate. The only sensation she had was harmony. And a need for an important decision to be made: did she stay or did she go?

The bright light was so welcoming, so warm and friendly, it was tempting her, willing her up to let it consume her, and she debated whether to step up straight away. Or did she take one final look at her life?

The wailing of a newborn baby filtering through her ears, any other sounds collectively white noise, prompted the answer, she had to say goodbye. Her consciousness returning, it was the first time she’d realised her heart was being pumped manually, and her eyes flickered open in surprise. A collective sigh of relief echoed around the room. The paramedic stopped working her chest, groping for her pulse instead, and the pain that the coma had dulled returned, straining her face. “Hurts.”

“I know, love, the doctors can give you some pain relief when we get you to hospital.”

Hope could see her child-mother daughter, clasping her new daughter close like a teddy bear, tears of fear cascading down her face as she watched her mother battling so submissively for life.

Then there was Rick, his fearful eyes also spilling, hand clenched to his mouth as he watched the horror unfold. She knew he loved her in a way he’d never loved before, but her emotions were in turmoil, she loved him but hated him still. And a future was impossible. If the papers found out the truth, with both of them being high profile now, they would have field day.

The floating sensation was back, but this time she was being physically lifted onto a stretcher, which was then hoisted onto a waiting trolley. She focused on the ceiling, away from the concerned faces, as they wheeled her through the house to the waiting ambulance. Her life had been saved, the decision taken from her, now she was going to have to take responsibility for the revenge that had been essential in freeing her from her demons, and to accept that her daughter was a teenage mother of a child that she would no doubt end up being the prime carer of if Penny was to have any semblance of a life in the next few years.

Bitter, yet resigned, Hope glanced at the paramedic who sat beside her in the speeding ambulance, the sirens adding an urgency alongside the flashing blue lights. Satisfied the woman wasn’t looking in her direction, Hope reached uncomfortably for the gun in her pocket, drawing it out with limp fingers. Slowly she brought the small gun towards her head, the weight only troubling her through her weakness, finally reaching its destination after the laborious journey, and Hope’s body relaxed with relief. She closed her eyes.

The Kitchen

The stillness in the room was uncanny. Seven people. A baby, now adorable in sleep, loosely held on her mother’s lap, the stunned child terrified of losing her own mother, guilty pangs that the massive coronary was brought on by her own revelations.

Dawn sat in the corner, dazed through tiredness, yet still charged with the recent excitement. Next to her was Rick, wading deeply in the sorrow filling his head, the words Hope had stung him with, the knowledge that she would never be with him too much to bear.

Charity, fuming at the use of her house as a mediation venue and maternity home rolled into one, stood nursing a steaming hot chocolate, the only beverage that didn’t make her queasy in the early months of her pregnancy. She wanted them all gone, the whole lot of them. Out of her kitchen, out of her house. Then she would bleach and sterilize everything.

Krein rose slowly, still mulling the volcanic events that had happened within just a few hours, the comatose paedophile, the extensive and unexpected journey, the hideous revelations, both of Griffin’s actions, and of Hope’s attempt at retribution. He waved to Claudia as she silently considered the events that had taken place herself, and he caught her eye. He nodded towards the door, feeling for the car keys in his pocket. A relieved smile crossed her lips as she gratefully jumped up to leave with him. They didn’t speak before exiting, no-one would have heard them, they were too lost in their own anguish.

Through the impressive front door, the chill of the January dawn smacked their ruddy faces, they tugged their clothes tight, racing to the car to escape the bitter frost. Slamming the door, Krein fired the engine, leaving the gear in neutral while the car and cab warmed up, blowers on to melt the ice crusted windscreen. Claudia searched his face, unsure whether to speak or leave him wherever he was, but her curiosity had been her downfall on many occasions. “What are you going to do?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Oh, Dave, I know where you’re coming from, but your job will be on the line if the truth ever got out. You simply can’t do nothing!”

He regarded her, tired eyes enhancing his exhaustion, and a sigh of resignation escaped his lips. “We attended the hotel when we were alerted that a woman may be committing a crime, and, whilst searching for her we came across a man who’d taken an overdose, and there were no apparent signs of foul play. It turns out that the woman doesn’t exist, it was just a prank call, but lucky because it meant we could get the man to hospital.

Turns out the man in question was facing a probable life sentence for the murder of his wife, and this, coupled with the accusation of a serious sexual offence looming over him, and the resulting loss of social status, was too much for him. He started by self harming with a knife, before taking his own life by fatal overdose.” He dropped the car into gear and began the long drive back to Cambridge.

Not a single word was uttered between the two detectives for the entire journey back, but when they pulled into the police station car park, and Krein killed the engine, Claudia turned towards him, gratitude and compassion flooding her eyes. “Thank you.”

“You were abused too, weren’t you?” He had no idea where the suggestion had come from. She nodded, leaving the car. No further words were necessary, the night was buried in their joint history, and they both knew that neither would ever tell the truth: Hope had already served her life sentence.

A Startled Paramedic

The bang made her jump, she instinctively searched in the direction of the sound. Her jaw fell when she focused on the gun. “Jerry! Come here.” Her colleague leapt up the steps and followed her pointing finger. On the floor, glistening menacingly, was an immaculate Colt Python.

“Where the hell did that come from?” He was inching forward, tentative and nervous.

“It just fell off that shelf when I was tidying up for the next callout.”

Shaking his head, Jerry jumped back onto the parking bay, and his decision to collect the gun, hold a real one in his hands for the first time, was ditched. He glanced at the empty police car nearby, and strode towards the hospital to find the officers. “Don’t touch it, I’m just going to find a copper.”

Client to Counsellor

Hope’s recovery had been arduous and painfully slow. Thirty two was an unusually young age to suffer a coronary, and it had been finally diagnosed as being caused by severe arrhythmia. But after months of to-ing and fro-ing to one hospital appointment after another a treatment was prescribed that stabilised the condition with barely any side effects. Hope had been ecstatic when her body was responsive to the amiodarone, and after an uphill struggle, was able to settle into new motherhood properly.

She cradled her third daughter, who was growing bigger and bouncier by the day, and glanced lovingly at the baby’s father. She had an inner peace about her that had never surfaced before. Less aggression, less stress, she smiled more, and deliberated less. Removing the empty warm bottle from the sleeping child’s mouth, her feed over and nap time begun, Hope strolled over to Rick, transferring Penny’s daughter, who they had registered in their own names, to his waiting, comforting arms.

Nobody had known about Penny’s pregnancy, so covering that up was simple, in fact, more discussion and criticism had been directed at Hope’s figure. She was blasted by journalists for being so skinny during the pregnancy they assumed she’d had, accused of starving her baby for the sake of fashion. The disparaging words didn’t affect Hope in the slightest, she continued smiling through her life, the calmness that had now replaced the angst welcome and timely.

It had been more difficult to get Charity to keep their newsworthy secret, at first she was demanding to scream the sick tale from the roof-tops. But as her own pregnancy developed, the healthy baby she was nurturing providing an uncommon softness to her materialistic character. Both Hope and Rick had reasoned with her that keeping the skeleton locked away was the best thing for both baby Rhia, and her birth mother, but it wasn’t until Dawn spent two hours trying to persuade her that Charity agreed to keep the whole episode in their family closet.

Hope and Rick snuggled together, sharing their baby, close in contentment, gazing through the open patio doors that led to the landscaped garden, bright summer flowers dancing in the warm breeze, contrasting greens forming depth and interest. The moment was peaceful, a family in love.

The front door slamming broke the spell, and three pairs of noisy school shoes clumped through the large hall, noisily tramping across the laminate flooring, and Hope caught Rick’s eyes, laughing: the kids were home.

They released each other, separating as the children piled into the room, all shouting at once, at each other, at their parents, at nobody, and the familiar evening mayhem began. A haggard Dawn, laden with shopping bags, sloped in, dropping them on to the carpet before slumping into a seat.

“Everything okay?” Hope regarded her ex-counsellor, the woman who was now not only a valued friend, but a sister in law too. Dawn sighed exaggeratedly, and Hope nodded to the door. “Want to talk about it? We can get a bit of quiet in the kitchen while I’m cooking dinner.”

Dawn nodded, she stood, towering over her newest, valued relation, and they arranged themselves in the kitchen with giant mugs of coffee, ready to gossip and deliberate. The counsellor and her client: roles reversed for this latest revelation into Dawn’s clumsy love life. After the emotionally charged events of January, the two women had now reached the place they had once both dreaded, yet always considered, during the first intense three months they had known each other.

A place that both women were grateful to be in, the constraints of counselling, of one-sided conversation, and one-sided selfishness, now gone. Hope’s vengeance had nearly destroyed them, she’d been tempted to destroy the link between them by punishing Rick, but the situation was over now, resolved, and now, Dawn and Hope finally had a chance. As friends.

Biography

Author of Unlikely Killer and Bloody Mary, mother of four, and long time writer, Ricki continuously studies the 'mind', the psychology, of people with great interest, and writes to educate and involve.

Unlikely Killer

Bloody Mary due out Dec 2011