The Edge of Sanity (35 page)

Joanne looked back up. ‘No, I … We could, for a while, but …’

‘No, I wouldn’t want to either, just yet,’ Cathy finished intuitively. ‘And I’m pretty damn sure I wouldn’t want to spend my time on my own in a hotel room either. My room’s not a room at the Ritz but it’s comfortable and big enough for both you and Kayla, until Daniel’s back on his feet. It’s also that bit closer to the hospital than your place, so what do you say?’

‘I, um …’ Jo looked into the eyes of yet another kind stranger, and promptly burst into tears.

At which DI Short coughed awkwardly. ‘I think that might be a yes.’ He gently unhooked Jo’s hand from his arm, gave her shoulders a squeeze, and guided her into Cathy’s waiting embrace.

****

Fresher if not exactly refreshed—the half hour’s nap she’d hoped for being rather elusive, Jo peered into Cathy’s lounge. Kayla and Hannah were heavily into the 24 series DVDs. She made signals to Hannah to hit the pause button and came in. ‘Hi, sweetie,’ she said, seating herself next to Kayla curled up on the sofa. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Fine,’ Kayla replied, far too quickly. ‘I already said.’

‘We need to talk, Kayla,’ Jo ventured carefully. ‘All of us.’

Kayla said nothing, just curled herself tighter.

‘There’s no use in bottling it up, Kayla,’ Jo said softly. ‘There’s been far too much of that, don’t you think? We have to grow up and talk to each other like adults. You said so, remember?’

Kayla nodded, almost imperceptibly.

‘I, um, was thinking about counselling maybe.’

Kayla tensed.

‘Family counselling, this time. Not yet, and only if we all feel—’

‘Will Dad go?’

Jo hesitated. ‘I don’t know. I think so. I hope so. He’s still so weak though.’

‘I’ll think about,’ Kayla said, her eyes glued to the mute TV.

‘Good.’ Jo nodded, relieved, and got to her feet. She knew Kayla wanted to go with her to the hospital, but Daniel was right, it would do her no good seeing him so weak. Kayla needed to see her father smiling and fighting back, which might prompt Kayla to do the same.

‘I’ll see you later.’ She squeezed Kayla’s arm and got to her feet. ‘Around about—’

‘If Dad says he’ll go, I’ll think about it,’ Kayla said, her gaze flickering towards Jo’s.

****

Jo found Daniel awake when she visited a few days later, but still subdued, as he’d been on her previous visits.

That was okay. To be expected. He’d still be in considerable pain and Jo was aware he wasn’t likely to want to go over what had happened yet. Even giving his statement had been an enormous strain, emotionally as well as physically, Jo guessed. But she didn’t want him to slip backwards and close up again, not after confiding so much in her after so long, which must have taken considerable courage.

‘Hey,’ she said, settling down in a chair to do small-talk for now. Try to coax him to smile, if nothing else.

‘Hi,’ Daniel said, glancing at her, then immediately down and trying to rake a hand still encumbered by tubes through his hair.

Not a good start, Jo thought, judging by the body-language. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, after several seconds silence.

Daniel shrugged. ‘Okay, I think. How’s Kayla?’

Jo took a breath. She’d been stalling up until now, saying she was okay, looking forward to seeing him. ‘Physically she’s fine,’ she started.

Daniel glanced up sharply. ‘Physically?’

Jo hesitated. She didn’t want things to get heavy. Now wasn’t the right time. Getting stressed would help no one to heal, particularly Daniel, but she felt she at least had to broach the subject of family counselling. Give him time to consider while he had time on his hands. ‘She’s withdrawn, Dan. Not talking, about what happened, or anything very much.’

‘Christ.’ Daniel glanced away

He kneaded his temple with his free hand. ‘Do you want me to try to talk to her?’

Jo felt a surge of hope rise in her chest and tentatively took the opportunity to follow through. ‘You could try, but if she won’t even talk to her best friend …’

Jo let it hang, and then took the bull by the horns. ‘I was hoping we might try counselling again, Dan. Family counselling,’ she added quickly, aware that relationship counselling had been a road to nowhere, ending in Daniel retreating further into himself.

‘Dan?’ She pressed him carefully, despite her intention not to. But then she could hardly keep lying about the state of their daughter’s health.

Daniel nodded half-heartedly. ‘I suppose, but … Do you think it might be a bit soon?’ He glanced uncertainly at her. ‘I mean, shouldn’t we give her more time?’

A double negative if ever Jo heard one. Time for what, she wanted to ask. For it to eat her up until she’s as dysfunctional emotionally as you were, Daniel? We were? Jo steeled herself. She’d planted the idea. It was Daniel who needed the time now, to consider.

‘I’ll get us a drink.’ She changed the subject, Daniel no longer making eye contact suggested she should. She’d been hoping to talk to him about other things. The boatyard, for one, given their current state of no abode and her conversation with Tony, who’d even offered to rent them the house, or let them buy the boatyard back, should they feel able to go back.

But that could wait too, Jo supposed, until Daniel was strong enough to talk things through properly.

She smiled and got to her feet. ‘Tea or caffeine?’ she asked, doing her best to keep it light and touch base with him.

‘Coffee, thanks,’ Daniel answered distractedly.

No touchdown then. Jo sighed and headed for the door, Daniel seeming off away in his head somewhere. ‘Back soon.’

She waited.

No response.

‘What? Oh, yes. Great, thanks,’ Daniel said, as Jo walked out of room.

‘Dammit,’ he cursed, dropping his head back on his pillow once she’d left.

What the
hell
was the matter with him? Shock, the in-house psychiatrist had said he was suffering from. Full marks for that. Daniel had already surmised that that was why he couldn’t trust his judgement enough to spit out the words going ceaselessly around in his head.
Do you want to be with me, Jo? Do you really want any part of a man so messed up as a child he’s an emotional wasteland and doesn’t know how to admit it?

And if he did manage to ask, and Jo even looked as if she might not want to? He’d be lost, utterly. He didn’t know how to
be
without his family. He didn’t want to.

****

DI Short walked towards Daniel’s room, his face set in grim determination. He hated delivering bad news and, on a scale of one to ten, this was a bloody disaster.

He tapped on the open door. ‘Daniel,’ he gave him a small smile and went on in, ‘how are we feeling?’

‘Truth?’ Daniel said, pushing his food away. ‘I’ve felt better. Can’t quite remember when, but … Sorry. Licking my wounds, I guess. How are you doing, Detective Inspector?’ He mustered up a smile and offered his hand.

‘Mike,’ DI Short said, offering his own hand. And so you should be, Daniel, he thought, feeling desolate for the man. Good God, was there
any
justice in the world? Hadn’t Daniel Conner been through enough?

‘Mike.’ Daniel shook his hand. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘Not pleasure, Daniel, sorry to say.’ DI Short debated whether to sit or stand. Sit, he decided, because he felt as sick as a dog. ‘Business, I’m afraid. I have some, er, news.’

‘Bad news I take it?’ Daniel scanned his face. ‘It’s not every day I have a DI sitting on the edge of my bed, whether I know him by Christian name or not.’

‘No, I don’t suppose it is.’ DI Short smiled briefly. ‘Charlie Roberts,’ he said without further ado, ‘he’s pressing charges, Daniel.’

‘
What
?’ Daniel went deathly pale.

‘I’m sorry, Daniel,’ DI Short offered lamely, as the man looked as if a train had just slammed into him. ‘I thought you should know sooner than later. Give you time to sort out your defence. The charges won’t stand, of course. The scumbag hasn’t got a cat in hell’s chance.’

‘What charges?’ Daniel said quietly, which threw DI Short. He’d expected outrage, voluble expletives, yet the man seemed … calm?

‘GBH with intent,’ DI Short told him as it was, gauging him carefully. ‘Assault with a deadly weapon.’

Daniel nodded, in the manner of a man discussing something as emotive as the weather. ‘That would be his weapon,’ he said, still calm, but with a look in his eye that was cynical at best, slightly insane at worst, DI Short couldn’t help feeling. A chill ran the length of his spine. Daniel Conner, he suspected, might just be on the verge of a breakdown, God help him.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The walls were closing in, inch by suffocating inch. Daniel knew he was losing it, but he couldn’t get past it. No amount of counting would make the psycho’s goading face go away; that flat, evil look in his eye that had Daniel wanting to rip his black heart out, his taunting voice, which Daniel could hear even in his dreams.
Oh, man,
the bloke’s a fuckin’ basket case. Attacked his own father, did Danny Boy.’

The nightmare was
never
going to end. Over and over it played. They were going to dig up evidence of his past and use it against him.

All of it. His mother’s suicide. The abuse.

The fact that Daniel Conner had broken his own father’s spine.

That he’d killed his baby daughter.

Daniel’s heart lurched. That bastard was going to drag it all out in court. No! No more. Daniel couldn’t do it. No way would he put his family through more psychological torture. But he didn’t know how to fight it. The only way out, as far as Daniel could see, was to remove the source of it.

Wincing, he pulled the drip from his hand, eased his legs over the bed and got unsteadily to his feet. He was here somewhere. Daniel laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. DI Short hadn’t said where, but he was here, Daniel could sense the disgusting little freak. Here in this hospital, pending transfer to a secure facility. Miracle was it wasn’t
him
being transferred.

Christ!
He had to get out. Now! A knot tightened in Daniel’s stomach. No more. He couldn’t do this. If he stayed, he would find Charlie-fucking-Roberts and he
would
finish the job.

Daniel tried to quell his growing panic and keep himself upright. To get dressed. Get out, before the confined space buried him. No way, he repeated it over. No way would he let Jo and Kayla face that sick psycho in court where
he
was the accused. Or come to see him, Daniel Conner, world’s greatest husband and father, in prison. He had no choice. He had to go.

He’d talk to Jo from a safe distance, where she wouldn’t have to feel obliged to stand by him lying injured in a hospital bed. But she didn’t. Did she? Daniel swallowed hard, heading through the hospital for the exit. He knew Jo well enough to see she wasn’t by his side through some sense of obligation. Didn’t he? Daniel tried to be rational, to think through the fog in his head. Where was he going to go? How was he going to talk to Jo, if he couldn’t get his thoughts straight? Talk to her at all when … God help him, Roberts was right. He hadn’t got the courage.

Jo didn’t need him to screw up the rest of her life. She’d be better off without him. Did he really believe that? Daniel didn’t know. All he knew was he needed to get away from the madness, which seemed to be all around him, and inside him.

****

‘He’s discharged himself?’ DI Short asked incredulously, his mobile pressed to his ear, his fish supper in hand, and money to pay for it still in his pocket. Damn. He turned to push his way back through the queue in the shop then waved his chips gratefully as the owner motioned him off.

‘No, not discharged,’ Joanne answered him, and by the sound of her voice she was trying very hard to hold it together. ‘Gone as in gone, left the hospital without telling anyone.’

Including her, obviously, DI Short surmised. ‘Look, Joanne, don’t panic.’ He tried to calm her. ‘I’m on it. He can’t have got far.’

‘Yes, but …’ Joanne’s voice faltered ‘ … why did he do it? And
where
has he gone?’

DI Short had a shrewd idea about the why. The news about that scumbag Roberts had pushed Conner too far. He’d been balancing on the edge of sanity on the back of that boat. The news about Roberts had tipped him right over. Why the
hell
hadn’t he alerted someone to Daniel’s state of mind when he’d left him at the hospital?

As for the where, DI Short’s instinct told him he might just know, but he wasn’t about to share that with Joanne and drive another member of the family insane with worry. ‘Look, Joanne, go back to Kayla,’ he urged her, throwing himself in his car and dumping his chips on the passenger seat. ‘I’ll get every available man on it, I promise. We’ll find him. And as soon as we do, I’ll call you.’

He would get every man he could on it. That much he’d promised and that much he’d do. But not until he’d followed his proverbial hunch, DI Short decided, flicking his blues and twos. Daniel might have gone voluntarily missing, but his reasons why, DI Short suspected, put him in the medium to high vulnerability risk category. First off, he’d been the victim of a serious crime. Secondly, thanks to the nasty little perpetrator of that crime flying true to colours and hounding him even in his hospital bed, Daniel Conner might well be a threat to himself.

All of which meant that DI Short should follow procedure and call it in, which would mean the Superintendent would be obliged to call in a Senior Investigative Officer, which might mean media involvement and Christ knew what else.

No, if Daniel had gone to the place DI Short thought he had for quiet contemplation, then he aimed to find him before there was plod all over the place, which would do the man no good at all.

****

Kayla watched her mum pretending to watch Skyfall. Normally, she’d be salivating over Daniel Craig, which Kayla thought was totally juvenile, but not tonight. She’d looked at her watch more times than she’d looked at the TV.

‘What’s up, Mum?’ she asked for the second time.