The Father's House (33 page)

Outside in the corridor there was a scuffling sound. Lucy dashed to the door and peeped out. Another police officer had arrived, and Walter was handing Thomas over. Lucy felt ill just looking at him. As he was marched away he turned round. His eyes pierced right through her. Evil rays, she thought. Just like the first Holy Envoy.

“We've got your photo on record,” he hissed. “We'll get you for this!”

Peace reigned in the hospital room for a little while. Dorothy sat in the visitor's chair with Paul on her lap, while Lucy and David perched on the wooden arms each side of her. Edna was out in the corridor talking on her phone, and Bill sat in silence with his pencil and notepad on his lap, thinking out his next line of questioning.

A nurse came in and the children watched suspiciously for the hand signal, but there was none. She picked up the medical record at the end of the bed.

“According to this she last stirred half an hour ago,” she said.

“Yes,” said Bill. “She half-opened her eyes and her lips moved, but that was it. Nothing since.”

“Well, it's progress.” The nurse felt the tenant's pulse. She checked the various tubes and fiddled with some knobs.

She turned to the children.

“What are you doing here? She's not supposed to have visitors.”

“It's alright,” said Bill. “They're helping us.”

“I'll be back in half an hour,” said the nurse, and left the room.

Lucy picked Paul up onto the side of the bed.

“My goodness, you're heavy!” she puffed. “Come and say hello to the tenant.”

Paul looked down at the peaceful face.

“Sleeping Beauty,” he said.

Lucy smiled.

“Perhaps if you give her a kiss she'll wake up.”

He kissed the tip of her nose, but nothing happened.

“She said that perhaps she was my mummy.”

“I expect she was lonely,” said Lucy, “living up there all on her own except for the lady with the red hair.”

She lifted him down and they settled back on the chair with Dorothy. Bill was writing. Lucy could sense that Dorothy and David were getting anxious. Edna was still out in the corridor. Perhaps she was ringing for a social worker.

It was time for them to be going. They had identified the tenant as best they could, and had saved her from disposal which was what they had really come for. Lucy stood up quietly and took her BWD file off the bed, wrapped it up in the plastic, and put it back into the canvas bag. As she slipped the bag across her chest she turned to face the others and tilted her head slightly towards the door. David nodded almost imperceptibly.

At that moment Edna returned. She sat down by the bed, and Bill looked up at her enquiringly.

“Right! That's organised,” she said. “I've arranged for someone to come and take you all to a safe place, and you'll be able to stay there until this is all sorted. You've been very helpful so far, but we'll need to ask you lots more questions, and you'll have to make formal statements.”

The children stared at her.

“We don't want to be kept in a safe place,” said Dorothy, just about managing to keep the panic out of her voice. “We'll only be safe looking after ourselves. We'll answer questions if you tell us when to come, and where, but we won't be taken away. We don't trust anyone.”

David and Lucy nodded.

“We only trust each other,” said David.

“Well, I'm afraid you have no choice.”

As she spoke there was a murmur from the bed. Both officers leaned over the tenant. Her lips were moving slightly and her eyelids fluttered. Edna pressed a bell and a nurse arrived almost immediately. While the three adults hovered over the bed the children quietly moved towards the open door.

“Goodbye for now,” said David quietly to Walter, as they slipped past. “They don't need us anymore.”

“Goodbye then. Good rugby, that!”

The children had almost reached the double doors when a voice shouted.

“Come back! Stop them!”

For a split second Dorothy and David paused. Walter came thundering towards them and grabbed them by the arm, just as Lucy and Paul pushed through the double doors.

“Lucy, Paul! Come back!” called Edna from the doorway of the room. Bill emerged and tore down the corridor, through the doors, and onto the stairs.

“Got you!” he said, as they wriggled under his grip.

“It's for your own safety,” said Edna as they were hauled back into the room.

The nurse was still by the bed, and turned crossly to the children.

“See what you've done? She needs peace and quiet, not some great hullabaloo. Now she's gone back into her shell. You shouldn't be here if you're just going to make a nuisance of yourselves.”

The children stood disconsolately over by the window as Walter remained firmly in the doorway, and the two police officers settled themselves back in their chairs. The nurse fussed about for a while checking equipment, and writing something on the record at the end of the bed. She gazed down into the tenant's face.

“Happy dreams,” she said. “I'm going off shift soon. See you tomorrow.”

As she spoke the tenant's lips began to move. The nurse turned back and all three adults leaped to attention once more. The children looked towards the door where Walter stood with his arms folded. There was no hope of escape now.

“What is she saying?” whispered the nurse.

The tenant's eyes opened. Her lips were still moving almost inaudibly. Lucy had a good look out of the window to see if there was any possibility of jumping out, but they were high up, and without the father's soft leather cushions it was unlikely they would land safely. Dorothy was looking out too, and shook her head slightly at Lucy.

“I'm going off shift now,” called Walter from the doorway. “My replacement's come. It's Fred. Got to rush.”

“Bye,” said Edna, without taking her eyes off the tenant. “See you!”

He went out and shut the door.

The voice on the bed rose into a definite murmur. The tenant moved her head slightly and looked around. The sound became clearer.

“Lucy, Paul, Lucy, come back, Lucy, Paul, Lucy,” she said. “Lucy, Paul, Lucy, come back.”

“She must have heard you shouting,” the nurse said to Edna. “It's sparked her off, so you've done some good there! This might be all she needed.”

“She's probably thinking of the fire,” said Lucy. “We had to leave her behind when the paramedics came. We knew she'd be alright with them.”

The tenant closed her eyes and there was silence for a while. The nurse made some more notes on the record sheet and prepared to leave. “That'll be it for a while, I expect,” she said.

There was a movement on the bed. The tenant's eyes opened and tried to focus on the three faces hovering over her. “Where are they?” she said. Her voice was low and husky. “Lucy, Paul?”

Lucy picked up Paul and sat him on the edge of the bed.

“Put him down. Get away from the bed, both of you,” snapped the nurse. Lucy ignored her.

“Here we are,” she said soothingly. “This is Paul, and I'm Lucy.”

The tenant turned her head slowly towards them, and looked into their faces.

“Hello,” she whispered.

Paul started to hum. The nurse pulled Lucy away and plonked Paul down on the floor.

“I told you to get back!” she said crossly. “Now, all four of you, get out. You can wait outside. Police or no police, the patient comes first.”

“And don't you dare move from there,” called Edna after them.

The tenant closed her eyes and turned her head away, and the children hurried out of the room. Fred was standing by the door. Dorothy looked up at him and smiled.

“We've been told to leave,” she said. “Someone's coming to take us to a safe place, and we're going to wait for him down in the foyer.”

“S'long,” said Fred.

They walked calmly though the double doors, down the stairs and across the foyer. As they left the main entrance behind them they passed two police officers on their way in.

Back in the hospital room the tenant stirred again. Voices floated and faded, and floated back again. Warm and comfortable. Was she dead? Was this heaven? Then nothing. Just sleep. They came again, the voices. This was nice. Perhaps her mother was here somewhere, and her father. Could she see the blue front door? No. She couldn't because her eyes wouldn't open. Too much of an effort. She felt safe. Then, nothing but darkness. Sleep. Voices again, louder this time. She'd heard those names – Lucy, Paul. She could see a baby, pink and pretty, and then another one. The names were important, but she couldn't place them. Never mind. This was very pleasant. She breathed deeply, once, twice, and again. With each breath a mist lifted slightly. Now she remembered her own name – Maria. Her pulse quickened. There was a fire. Two children. She lifted her head slightly.

“Where have they gone?”

The three adults had no need to bend forward to hear what she said because her voice was clear. Bill started writing.

“Where are my children?” She tried to move. “They were here just now.”

“Can you tell us your name, love?” said Edna gently.

“I'm Maria. Where are Paul and Lucy?”

“They're outside with the guard. I'll fetch them for you, Maria.”

There was a knock on the door and two police officers entered with Fred just behind them.

“They've gone,” said Fred. He sounded embarrassed. “They said they were being fetched.”

From behind his newspaper Father Drax had his eye on the main entrance to the hospital. He needed to catch Thomas when he came out, and he wished he'd hurry up. The shift must have finished at least twenty minutes ago. He was fed up with this damp bench and did consider sitting on his briefcase, but decided against it. It might crush it out of shape, and it had been very expensive. All his documents were in that case – his bank accounts and different pin numbers and aliases and passports, as well as all his children's birth records.

The hat was pressing into his forehead. It was much too small for him. He wasn't used to hats, but the brim was fairly wide and it hid his yellow hair. If it weren't for his hair no-one would recognise him now – not after more than a week of sleeping under those filthy railway arches. This was the first time he'd dared to come back to the area in daylight since his commune was raided, and he hoped he just looked like a very tall tramp. He stooped his shoulders to make himself shorter, and bowed his head. Thomas would get him away somehow so that he could lead a normal life, but first he must help him find those two treacherous brats of his. He'd stop their mouths for ever – especially the girl. She'd started it, and she'd ruined everything for him – her own father!

A police car pulled up outside the gates and he buried his face in the sports page as two officers walked purposefully towards the main entrance. He peeped out sideways as they went up the steps, and then he swore quietly to himself. As cool as four cucumbers his son and daughter, plus a couple of Copse's kids, sauntered down the steps, past the police officers, and out through the gates. There was no need for Thomas now. Pulling the hat down even tighter he stood up, picked up the briefcase, and followed the children, throwing his newspaper in the bin as he went. It had his face on an inside page but no-one would recognise him in this get-up. Even so, he took the paper out again and crumpled up the middle bit and then put it back in the bin.

“We'll go along the Southcote Road first,” said Dorothy, “and pick up some food.”

They followed her down a side street to a long road that ran behind the hospital, full of market stalls. Some of the traders were beginning to pack up. Dorothy picked up a fallen apple and popped it into Lucy's canvas bag. A few yards later on she found a small bunch of bruised bananas.

“We've got quite a long walk in front of us,” she said. “I'm going to take you to where I hid when I ran away from Drax House. It's under a railway arch, and lots of people like us go there, and they can light fires and keep warm and cook things. The police will be looking for us near the hospital, so they won't guess we've gone so far. Maybe that boy called Tom will be there, and he'll help us.”