Threats at Three (41 page)

The twins looked doubtfully at their mother, but she nodded and said they were to go along with Gran. “I’ll soon be back,” she said. Lois shepherded Paula and Josie, still holding Frankie, through the lingering crowds and down to where her van was parked.

 

 

PAULA HAD RALLIED A LITTLE, AND SAID WOULD IT BE POSSIBLE TO call the hospital on a mobile and find out if they were all . . . She dried up here, and Josie looked at her mother. “What d’you think?” she said.

“Probably best to wait, Paula,” Lois said. “Not far now, and you know what mobiles are. The signal will probably fail, and then we’ll get a muddled message, and it could be a really bad thing to do.”

“Okay,” Paula said, and took Frankie from Josie. “He should be in his safety seat,” she added, “but I expect if we get stopped I can say it’s an emergency.”

“We won’t be stopped,” said Lois. “I know a back way to the hospital. Only about five minutes and we’ll be there. Hold on, Paula.”

 

 

JACK HICKSON SR., BANDAGED UP LIKE THE INVISIBLE MAN, KNEW that Paula would be coming. He knew this absolutely, and had insisted on waiting in reception so that he could be with her from the moment she arrived.

“Are you all right, Mr. Hickson?” The young nurse looked at him anxiously. She had been told to not let him out of her sight, as he could easily be suffering from confusion with delayed concussion.

“As well as can be expected,” he said, patting her hand with a swathe of bandages wound round his arm and wrist.

“Let’s sit down, then,” she said. “You’ll still be able to spot your wife when she arrives.”

A
H, THERE YOU ARE, MRS. HICKSON,” THE YOUNG NURSE SAID. Paula had half run into the reception area of the hospital, followed a little way behind by Lois and Josie once more holding Frankie. He began to laugh as he was joggled up and down by Josie as they made for the entrance, and Josie kissed him and held him tight.

As Paula approached, she suddenly saw a bandaged figure stand up from a chair behind the nurse. “Paula,” he said, and held out his hand.

“Jack! Are you all right? What on earth happened? Where is our Jack and is he all right?” And then she burst into tears, as her wounded husband did his best to put an arm round her.

“Would you come with me, please?” the young nurse said. “Perhaps you would like to wait here?” she said to Lois and Josie. “Whose baby is it?”

“Mine,” said Paula, holding out her arms to Frankie.

“Ours,” Jack answered, and kissed him lightly. “I’m his father. Let’s go, please.”

Frankie began to bellow as this strange man touched him, prohibiting further conversation until they met a senior nurse waiting at the entrance to the children’s ward. “Into my office, please,” she said kindly. “Do sit down,” she added. “We need to have a talk before we go to see young Jack.”

“Oh, my God,” said Paula, in tears again, “is he all right?”

“Of course he’s all right, Mrs. Hickson,” the nurse said, raising her eyebrows. “Very much so, if you don’t mind my saying so. We’re having difficulty keeping him quiet. Now, you must understand that he was quite seriously bruised and concussed in the accident. I can’t think how the organisers got away with racing those dreadful soap boxes. No safety belts, apparently! And then we have to pick up the pieces. . . .”

“Funny way of putting it, nurse,” Jack Sr. said. “Just how much treatment does our son need? And when can he come home?”

The nurse explained that the bruises would go away in time, although the boy would be sore in quite a lot of places, mainly where
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had slammed into his chest as he hit the crowd. He had been thrown back, and hit his head on the raised seat frame behind him.

“Was anyone else hurt?” Paula said. “I wasn’t down at the finish. I couldn’t bear to look in case he came in last. By the time I got down there it had happened. But people said there were three stretchers put in the ambulance?”

The nurse paused and looked at Jack. “Well, obviously your husband was badly cut and bruised. I believe there was a knife.”

“Who had a knife, Jack?” Paula said urgently. “What the hell was somebody doing with a knife?”

Jack shook his head. “Don’t know,” he said. “It all happened so quickly. I didn’t see. Just felt the sharp pain in my arm and hand.” He looked away from her, thinking that it hadn’t taken long for him to break his resolution to tell her only the truth from now on. But now was not the time for long explanations. They needed to see Jack, and get him home as soon as possible.

When young Jack saw his mother and little Frankie, and then his father, being led down the ward by the nurse, he stopped shouting and trying to climb out of the bed with raised sides where he’d been put for his own safety. He stared from one to another, and then back to his father.

Frankie began to struggle when he saw his big brother, and Paula smiled unsteadily. “What you been getting up to now, then?” she said. “And here’s your dad come to see you. You nearly killed him from the look of him.”

“Hi, Dad,” Jack said. “I wasn’t aiming at you, y’ know,” he added in a strangled voice.

“Yeah, I know, lad. An’ I’m not that badly hurt. Women always exaggerate,” he added.

“Too right,” said the boy, and nodded wisely. “I suppose the old battle-axe won?”

“’ Fraid so. But you were not the loser, son, not by a long chalk.”

 

 

BY THE TIME PAULA AND JACK SR. EMERGED BACK INTO THE reception area, Lois and Josie were desperate for news. When they heard that Jack would be fine, they relaxed.

“This is his father, Mrs. M,” Paula said.

“We’ve met,” said Lois caustically. “In the rain,” she added, and stopped there. There was little point in going over old dramas. God knows what will happen to him, she thought. But it looks as though there’s been a get-together here, for the moment at least.

“I’m Mum’s daughter,” Josie said, feeling left out. “Shall I take Frankie for you, Paula? I just love giving him a cuddle, and he seems to like me.”

“Could I have a quiet word, Mr. Hickson?” Lois said, as the others went across to the café for drinks.

“You want to know about the other bloke, I suppose,” he said, a spasm of pain crossing his face.

“I know a bit already. If you could just tell me if it was your workmate at Parks and Gardens? The one you had a fight with?”

Jack nodded. “It was him,” he said. “I think he had been following me, and right at the last minute he appeared from nowhere. I knew at once it was him.” He said nothing about his own long and fruitless attempt to find Ross. “He said something,” he continued, “but I couldn’t hear because of the cheering. Then I saw the knife and tried to get away, but I was hemmed in by the crowd. It was then that young Jack’s soap box came straight towards us. The knife caught my arm as the fool went down.”

“And?”

“He was killed instantly,” Jack said slowly. “Hit his head on a stone bollard on the pavement. The knife fell to the ground, and a cop picked it up.”

“What are you two talking so seriously about?” Josie said, as they returned with a tray of coffees. “We should be celebrating that things weren’t any worse!”

Lois said nothing, and nor did Jack Sr. Frankie amused them all with his attempts at drinking apple juice through a straw, and the third stretcher was not mentioned again.

G
AVIN, KATE AND CECILIA AMBLED HOME WITH TONY AND Irene Dibson. They didn’t talk much, except to say that it had been a wonderful day. Until the last minute, that is.

“Took the shine off it,” Tony said. He struggled to get the wheelchair over a rough patch on the pavement, and Gavin insisted on taking over.

“I saw it all,” Kate said in a small voice. “I was so excited, and so was Derek. He was standing at the finishing line and we’d just had a word when they came down the track. He was rooting for young Jack, like most other people. Then it happened. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
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seemed to be going so well.”

“Well, actually,” began Gavin hesitantly, “there might have been a bit of a problem with the steering. The garage man was checking the vehicles at the start, and he said something about too much play on the wheel. But Derek was going to have a word with John Thornbull to tighten it up.”

“Oh, Lord!” said Kate. “D’you think that’s what happened? Why it went off course?”

“They’ll find out,” said Irene. “There’s bound to be an investigation. Three people were hurt, weren’t they? I do hope they’re all okay.”

“Don’t you worry, missus,” Tony said, taking over the chair and pushing up his garden path. “Derek will see to it.”

 

 

DEREK WAS WAITING ANXIOUSLY FOR HIS MOBILE TO RING WITH news from the hospital. He had been busy trying to clear people away from the accident so that the ambulance could get near, and he did not really know the details of who was hurt—or worse. He had seen three stretchers taken, and that was all.

He was keeping busy, helping out wherever it was needed, dismantling the straw bale barrier, taking down the ramp, collecting up notices and so on. “Heard anything yet?” John Thornbull shouted to him from his forklift truck. Derek shook his head. “I’ll let you know, boy,” he said.

Preying on his mind was the obvious question. Had the steering failed on
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? He could not now remember whether or not he had asked John to check it. So much had been going on, and he had been required everywhere at once. The sensible thing to do would be to ask John right now, when he was there in front of him.

“John!” he shouted. “Can you come down here a minute?”

They stood by the half-dismantled ramp and John thought hard. “I couldn’t swear to it,” he said, “but I don’t think you asked me. I know I didn’t look at it, and I think I would’ve if you’d asked. But honestly, Derek, there were people firing questions at me from all sides and I really can’t remember. Do you think that’s why the box went into the crowd?”

Derek frowned. “I’m not sure, of course,” he said, “but it was just at the time there was a scuffle on the edge of the track and a straw bale went crooked, leaving a gap. Seems a bit of a coincidence. We shall know a bit more when Lois rings, I hope.”

A man Derek recognized as a local journalist approached. “Can I have a word, Mr. Meade?” he said. “Just a few details to add to my paper’s big feature about the grand prix.”

Oh God, thought Derek. I know exactly what he wants to ask. “What can I tell you?” he said as pleasantly as he could. No point in antagonising the press.

“It was the accident that occurred in the final. Do you know who got hurt? A young boy driving, I believe? And two other men? Do you have their names?”

Derek shook his head. “Sorry, no, I don’t. I am waiting for a call from my wife. She took the mother of the boy to hospital.”

At this point, Derek’s mobile rang. “Excuse me,” he said, and walked away, up the garden path and into the bungalow. The old lady who lived there beckoned him in, and shut the door firmly in the journalist’s face.

“Lois? Thank God you’ve rung. What’s the news?” He dare not phrase the question he wanted to ask. Is Jack Jr. dead? But then he didn’t have to, because Lois told him the good news that he was hurt but alive, and so was his father, who had been in the crowd, disguised as a woman!

“And the other bloke?”

There was a pause, and then Lois cleared her throat. “Didn’t make it, I’m afraid. He hit his head when he fell. But there was something dodgy about him. It seems he had a knife and had gone for Jack’s father. Lucky that
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went into the crowd just at that moment and stopped him. I gather he’d intended to kill.”

“Blimey! Looks like it’s more complicated than we thought.”

“I’m just leaving now. Jack’s dad has to stay in overnight, so I’m bringing Paula and Frankie, and Josie, back home.”