Sleepwalk (32 page)

Vanessa Gordon actually smiled at him then, ‘Don’t bother’ she said, ‘God knows I’ve tried telling them all but it goes in one ear and out the other. Most of them seem to have an IQ of ten and these are the people to whom we entrust our lives.’

The round faced nurse pushed the wheelchair to the nurse’s station where she was met by a porter who took over from there.

‘Mrs Gordon is it?’ He asked politely.

‘No it isn’t.’

‘Oh. I’m supposed to be picking up a Mrs Gordon.’

‘No you’re not you’re supposed to be picking up
Miss
Gordon and that’s me……
Miss
Gordon!’

‘Oh right, well …… at least we got the last bit right eh?’

‘It’s about the only thing anyone in this excuse for a hospital has got right, yes.’ Snapped Vanessa. Slim was smirking at their side. It was as near as he could get to a straight face when in reality, his sides were fit to bursting.

‘And what are you grinning at?’

‘You. You’re such a bitch.’
Whoa. Steady on Slim boy
……….
You’ll be looking for an award for bravery at this rate
. Jonquil must be still inside him somewhere making him ‘tell it like it is’.

The porter looked from ‘Mother’ to ‘Son’ in exasperation. The youth of today. If
he
had spoken like that to
his
Mother he’d have been kicked from here to Kingdom come. Small wonder there was such a high crime rate these days when kids had no respect for their parents. The porter remained silent and led them down in the lift to the ground floor where their taxi was waiting.

‘Now then Williams’ she was saying as they made their way down the garden path to her little riverside haven on her NHS issue loaned crutches, ‘I can’t possibly manage on a day to day basis without some help so you’ll have to help me of course until I’m back on my feet. You are responsible for my condition, after all.’

‘Look Vanguard, I don’t
have
to do anything. I’m helping you because I think Jonky would have wanted me to; that’s all.’

‘And I don’t
have
to
not
call the police and have you arrested and charged with causing actual bodily harm Williams. I’m giving you the opportunity to repent your sins and earn your right for freedom. Do we understand each other? Oh ……. and it’s Miss Gordon to you.’

Slim took the key from her outstretched hand and unlocked the cottage door. He carried her bag inside and put it down in the hall.

‘You can start by taking that upstairs and putting it on the stool in front of the dressing table where I can actually reach it. And don’t touch anything while you’re up there and I’m timing you.’

Vanessa Gordon’s recuperation had better be swift because he couldn’t take too much of her vicious tongue. He spent the rest of the day at her beck and call; running errands, shopping, making tea and cleaning. It was almost dusk when he left and went to pick Bits up from Art’s place. When he got back to the bridge it was getting quite dark and he felt exhausted. He checked on her Landrover. It was still there and intact. He’d been quite amazed that she hadn’t mentioned it or asked for the keys back. He certainly wasn’t about to mention it to her. As long as it remained here on the wasteland, he and Bits would at least sleep in style. With all this warmth and luxury, he was becoming quite spoiled.

Alistair Spencer was feeling jet-lagged. Having just flown in from Dubai and coming straight to the office he’d had no coffee break yet and it was almost noon but the mountain of paperwork in his in-tray had put paid to that. He swirled around in his high backed black leather swivel, away from the glass wall that separated his twenty four square metre plush cream Axminster carpeted office from
London
’s high dusty tenement buildings and the murky waters of the
Thames
and pressed his intercom.

‘Judith bring me a coffee please and then get David Humphries on the phone will you?’

‘Yes Mr Spencer, right away.’

He checked his diary; lunch with Carl and Mrs Redmond. He couldn’t avoid that; he’d already re-scheduled on them last week and the
Redmond
’s were sound investors. At least it would be short and sweet as he had a
three o’clock
booked in with the talented yet devious Helena Delaney, one of his top designers.

The muffled beep of the office door bell sounded then and he pressed a button and the black leather clad doors parted smoothly revealing Judith carrying a silver tray with his coffee and a few snacks. She laid it down carefully on
the
highly polished oak veneered desk inlaid with Ivory and decorated with gold leaf.

‘There you are Mr Spencer Sir. Now, just to remind you that you have lunch with Carl today meeting with Mrs Redmond and you have a
three o’clock
……..’

‘…………..With the impeccable Helena Delaney …… Yes, I know. Thank you Judith.’

‘How was
Dubai
?’

‘Invigorating…….. Exhausting………. but productive.’

‘Good; two positives and only one negative. A worthwhile trip then.’ Judith smiled at him as she left the room and the heavy doors opened for her, then she paused before them and turned to face him. ‘Oh, just one thing Sir……….. The girl ….. she phoned again.’

‘Did you do as I asked this time Judith?’

‘Yes Sir, but …… do you not think we should report this? It’s the third time this week and she ……. Well Sir, she sounds quite convincing.’

‘Are you questioning my authority Judith?’

‘What? No …… No of course not Mr Spencer.’

‘Good. Then let’s hear no more of this.’

‘Yes Mr Spencer. I’m sorry I ……’

‘That’ll be all Judith.’

The girl made a hasty exit and the doors closed behind her. Alistair Spencer slammed his fist down hard on the antique desk spilling hot black coffee into the silver tray and spraying little droplets across one corner of the immaculate desk.

‘Damn!’ he cursed as he reached for the white cotton napkin and spread it gently over the little droplets before they could penetrate the surface. ‘Damn her!’

The phone was ringing and its tone seemed much louder than usual; almost piercing, as he picked up the handset he groped around at the side of its base to find that the volume switch had been pushed up as far as it would go. Damned cleaner always did that. He must tell her about it.

‘Ah, David ……..
Dubai
? Yes, yes it did ……. Much better than I had anticipated. Let’s just say as one door closes, so another opens ….. and yet another; and let me tell you; this time we stand to more than triple our profits from the Wydale project………..’

There was a full moon and they were standing on the terrace beneath the stars. He had only kissed her once but,
Oh so tenderly
and her heart rate had gone up to the ‘n’ th degree and her pulse was racing……….

I don’t want you to go
.

Sorry? For a minute I thought you said
you didn’t want me to go
…………

I don’t want you to go. I’ve fallen in love with you Felicity Breen
…..

Beep
……..
Beep
……….
Beep
……… ‘Oh God Flick shut that thing up will you?’

The alarm was just too loud. She wanted to pick it up and throw it as far away as possible. She had been having the most erotic dream……..

She sat up on the edge of the bed.

‘I’d better go to my room before Ollie wakes up.’

‘Flick?’

‘Yes?’

‘I meant to talk to you last night and we never really got around to it so; tonight, we need to talk……. Seriously. Ok?’

‘Ok.’

‘Flick?’

‘Yes?’

‘
I love you
.’
It was a whisper
………..

‘What?’

‘I think ……. I can hear Ollie……… Quick!’

Felicity grabbed her clothes and handbag and crept from the room; David’s quiet words ringing in her ears like Church bells on a Sunday morning. He’d said it hadn’t he? Or was she still dreaming? No. He’d definitely said those three special words. She stopped and ran on tiptoes back into his room, threw her clothes on the floor and sat astride him on the bed then bent over him, her long tangled chestnut hair tickling his forehead and his cheek and kissed him, her full lips soft and lingering…….

‘Good morning Mr Wilson.’ She said in her sexiest voice…….. ‘I love you.’ Then she leapt up, gathered up her clothes and tiptoed along the landing to her little single room leaving David stretched out on his bed in a state of raw undress and in desperate need of the bathroom; but wearing the biggest grin he’d had in a long, long time.

For Felicity and David, Ellie’s incarceration brought a kind of freedom….. a kind of peace. The worry and stress had gone from their lives. It was as though the dark clouds had passed over their sky never to return and they were basking in sunshine; whatever the weather. The changes in them had not gone unnoticed by those around them. Their families and work colleagues could all see they were becoming sickeningly happy together. Once they had exchanged those words of love there was no stopping them and their days became shorter and shorter and their nights became longer and longer. The subject of Felicity moving back into her cottage was never brought up again. It was no longer an option. Instead they made plans to have a kitchenette fitted in the loft of her house and rented out No 1 Mill Cottages. The main house was now occupied by a very nice young working couple who had a tabby cat; and the upstairs was later occupied by a young man who was an artist and whose first painting of the valley he gave to them as a token of his appreciation; so taken was he with the views from his new apartment.

They were blissfully happy. So when David came home and announced he had taken an hour off that afternoon to see his solicitor and had began divorce proceedings against Ellie her cup secretly ran over and her happiness became more than complete. She tried to remain calm but she was bursting with anticipation. Was David going to ask her the ultimate question?
Felicity
……….
Will you be my wife
?............ Nah. They had been seeing each other now for seven months; living together for three and it had taken him this long to say he loved her. By her reckoning, if David was going to propose it would be……… just about mid winter in the year…….. two thousand and fourteen……. or somewhere quite close to it.

‘He says it should be quite a swift procedure with her being in custody and up before the crown court next month. It should take less than six months.’

‘And that’s swift?’

‘I guess so babe. I don’t know for sure considering I’ve never been divorced before…… and never intend to again I might add.’

Does that mean he’s never going to put himself in a position whereby he would be able to ever become divorced again or does it mean next time it will last forever and a divorce will not be necessary
?
Oh, the minds of men
…….

‘He says if she is found guilty then the divorce will be a piece of cake.’

‘What an odd analogy.’

‘Piece of cake? Well you know what I mean.’

‘But did he actually use that phrase?’

‘I think so…… yes.’

‘Weird. I mean ‘piece of cake’ could be easily associated with a wedding but not really a divorce.
Piece of
something else might be more appropriate…….’

‘Piece of whatever……. If it’s swift it suits me.’

‘Dad? It’s Abi.’

‘Is that really you?’

‘Yes it’s really me.’

‘Ok. If it’s really you…….. why has it taken you this long to get in touch? And how do I know it’s really you? You could be anyone. A gold digger…….. I get them all the time……… phoning me at work; phoning me at home. Young girls; waifs and strays; all claiming to be my daughter. What makes you so special?’

‘Oh forget it. You were never there when I needed you.’

‘Wait! …… Abigail………?’

‘Look……. This was a mistake. Just forget it. Dad? ….. I’m sorry……’

‘Wait! …….. Abi?’

‘What?’

‘Where are you? …… Are you alright? Tell me where you are…… I’ll come and pick you up…….’

‘Or you’ll send someone to pick me up…… No, look ……. Forget it. I shouldn’t have called.’

‘Abi, please? I …… I’ll come for you myself. Right now….. I promise.’

‘On your own; without your shadows?’

‘Just me; I promise. Where are you?’

‘At my flat in East Barton.’

‘East what?’

She saw the Porsche pull into the courtyard through the net curtains. It was late and she had been crying. Her eyes were red and sore. She didn’t know what to do without Ellie. She hadn’t been to work since they got back from their holiday and the phone was ringing constantly. She had tried answering it the day after Ellie had been arrested and a voice had asked for Ellie saying she hadn’t turned up for work.