Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4) (10 page)

‘Wait!’ Sam called after him but Andy kept on walking.

When the policeman had gone, Sam got off the bed and headed down the corridor. The television room at the end of the ward was empty, the TV switched off, so he dived in out of the way. He sat down with a thud on a small settee.

That bastard! After all Sam had gone through to clear the land so they could get decent access to the back of the industrial estate, Scott had gone ahead and done the job without him.

Why hadn’t Scott been in touch? Was he trying to keep it from him? Sam got out his phone, keeping it on his knee while he punched in Scott’s number with his left hand.

‘Yeah?’ Scott answered.

‘I’ve just seen the paper. You did the job without me?’ Sam’s tone was incredulous.

‘’Course we did.’

‘So when were you going to tell me about it?’

‘You’ve been under a lot of stress, what with the accident and—’

‘Don’t fucking patronise me!’ Spittle flew from Sam’s mouth. ‘You’d better save my cut or else.’

‘Looks like you’ve already had one.’ Sam heard Scott snigger. ‘You were the stupid fuck that nearly cut his hand off.’

‘But you’re the one who caused the accident!’ Sam felt his body tense as he sat forward in the seat.

‘You’re no good to me now, so you’re off the team.’

‘What the—’ Sam stood up and paced the room. ‘You’re chucking me because I’ve had an accident?’

‘You won’t be able to do much for a while. You can always join us again once you’re back to normal.’

‘Things will never be normal again because of you. I’m scarred for life!’

‘Stop with the whining. It can’t be that bad.’

‘What would you know?’ There was a silence between them. Sam couldn’t trust himself to speak or else he would lose it.

‘You’ll get your cut,’ Scott spoke eventually.

‘I’d better, because if—’

‘Of course, it will only be equivalent to what you did, which wasn’t much.’

‘What?’

‘You only did half the job so you only get half the pay.’

‘I nearly lost my fucking hand because of you!’ Sam lowered his voice as two nurses walked past the room and glanced in. ‘That money is my compensation. I want what’s mine.’

The door to the room opened and a woman in pink stripy pyjamas and fluffy white slippers walked in, pushing a drip in front of her. She smiled shyly, then let it drop as she caught his eye.

‘I want my fair share,’ he repeated.

‘You’re no use to me as damaged goods.’

‘What did you say?’ Sam gasped but the phone had gone dead. Glaring at the woman before storming out of the room, he flounced down the corridor and back to his bed. Damaged goods? How dare Scott say that to him? It was all his fault. He’d make him pay.

But in the back of his mind, Sam knew he’d do no such thing. Scott Johnstone was above his league. He’d realised that as soon as he’d hitched up with him after Scott had been released from prison. Maybe this might work out better for him.

He lay down on the bed. ‘Fuck!’

‘Language, Sam, please!’ A nurse turned to him with a sigh.

‘Yeah, pipe down,’ said the man in the bed opposite. ‘My dog makes less noise than you.’

‘Piss off,’ Sam said.

‘Mr Harvey! Show some respect.’

Sam glared at the nurse before turning on his side, his back towards them. He wished he could go home, just walk right on out of there and sort this mess out. He could if he wanted to, discharge himself. But he knew that it would be to his own detriment. He didn’t want to be disfigured if another operation could save his finger.

He’d just have to bide his time until he was able again, and think about how to get out of this mess.

Chapter Thirteen

Donna had her head down when Owen walked into Shop&Save, so didn’t even notice him coming in. It wasn’t until he came to the till that she looked up.

‘Hi!’ she almost croaked, then coughed to clear her throat.

‘Well, hello.’ Owen handed her a newspaper and a bar of chocolate. ‘Fancy seeing you in here.’

‘Fancy.’ Donna felt her skin flushing immediately. Christ, what was it with her and this man?

‘It’s a bit late for a morning paper,’ she added. ‘It’s nearly lunchtime.’

‘Precisely why I thought you might like to go and grab a bite to eat?’ He placed a few coins in her outstretched hand, lingering to curl her fingers around them. ‘If I don’t come to you, you’ll never find time to meet me. I can have you there and back in an hour, if they can spare you?’

‘I … I … well, yes, I suppose they can.’ Donna ran a hand through her hair, glad that she always made an effort to look smart, even if she did have to wear a green overall.

‘Come on, Donna,’ a voice came from behind them. ‘Hurry up, won’t you? I’ve got a bet on a horse at twelve and I want to be back at the bookies to watch it.’

‘Wait your turn, Bernard.’ Donna ran Owen’s things through the till. ‘It’s not often you’re kept waiting, is it?’

‘I’ll be dead at this rate before you’re done.’

‘That doesn’t sound like a bad thing,’ Donna muttered under her breath. Owen was trying to keep his face straight as she shooed him away. ‘If I can get off, I’ll see you in … thirty minutes?’

‘If you can get off?’ It was his turn to speak quietly. Owen moved closer so that only she could hear. ‘Now, that sounds like something I’m very interested in seeing.’

Understanding his meaning, her skin flushed even more. As Owen pulled back his head and roared with laughter, she noticed black hair curled up over the top of his T-shirt again. She gulped: she shouldn’t be having the thoughts that were running through her mind right now.

‘Away with you,’ she told him.

‘I’ll be waiting outside.’

He winked at her before leaving, making her blush again. ’Right, then, Bernard,’ she turned to him all of a fluster, ‘your usual is it?’

‘Yes, and about bloody time.’ 

Donna served him and sent him on his way.

When she’d finished refilling a shelf nearby, Sarah tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Who was that I saw you talking to?’

‘That was the guy I was telling you about.’

‘You mean …
him
?’

‘Yes, it was Owen.’

‘Ohmigod, he’s divine.’ Sarah practically squealed. ‘Are you sure he’s interested in you?’

‘Oi, you cheeky cow. Yes, he is.’ Donna grinned. ‘Actually, I can hardly believe it myself. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think? Someone like him wanting to go out with someone like me?’

‘What on earth do you mean by that?’

‘I’m not exactly a catch, am I? Forty-two years old, living in rented accommodation, with nothing to call my own.’

‘Aw.’ Sarah gave Donna’s arm a gentle squeeze. ‘You will always have hope, my friend.’  

‘I will. He’s asked me out for lunch!’ Donna smiled. ‘That’s okay, isn’t it?’

‘I’m sure I can cope without you for an hour or so.’

‘I’m only down for a half hour break as I—’

Sarah interrupted her. ‘We may be busy and rushed off our feet but if you want an extra thirty minutes, I won’t tell anyone you’ve been gone longer than you should.’

‘Oh, thanks!’

‘It’s only fair. You always help me out whenever we’re short-staffed. Now, freshen up in the back room and go and spend some time with your dream man.’

‘Before I wake up, you mean.’ Donna laughed as she walked off.

After his mum had mentioned that Daniel had been around to see him, Lewis had arranged to meet him for a burger. As it was the school holidays, half of Stockleigh must have been in the takeaway shop they went to. Everywhere he looked there were children. Mothers shouting at them to behave, babies screaming, toddlers making a noise. Lewis could feel it grinding on his nerves already. He tried to shut everything out as he gave his order and waited for it to be prepared.

Daniel had gone to sit down while Lewis stood in the queue for food. A couple of minutes later, he sat across from him and passed him his burger and chips. Despite the surrounding noise, Lewis could still feel the silence between them as they ate.

‘Is that good?’ he asked Daniel, after he’d eaten a few bites of his nondescript burger.

‘Yeah, thanks.’

Lewis laughed. Teenagers, they’d eat anything you gave them.

‘Do you want to come for tea later, Dad?’

‘Not right now, Dan.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, was it your mum’s idea?’

Lewis watched as Daniel went the colour of the tomato ketchup bottle on the table.

‘You haven’t asked her, have you?’

Daniel shook his head. ‘But I know she’d like you to.’

‘Next time, maybe.’

Daniel wasn’t perturbed. ‘Why won’t you come home?’

‘Your mum can’t live with me as I am now.’

He picked up a chip and stopped before putting it in his mouth. ‘Then why don’t you get some help?’

‘It’s not that easy.’

Daniel wiped his hands of salt and pulled out a few pieces of paper from his holdall. ‘I’ve been looking things up on the Internet. There’s an organisation called Combat Stress. They might be able to help.’

Lewis looked at him in surprise as he slid them across the table to him. He didn’t know what to say.

‘Thanks, I’ll check them out later.’

Daniel seemed to be pacified by this and went back to eating his chips for a moment.

Lewis bit into his burger, but put it down again. He’d suddenly lost his appetite. If his son could see he needed help, what message was he giving off to him? And since he’d last met Amy, he’d sunk into a depression again. It seemed like every way he turned, there was no hope.

‘Mum misses you,’ said Daniel. ‘I hear her crying at night sometimes.’

‘Mum misses the old me,’ Lewis told him.

‘You can be like that again.’

‘It’s not that easy.’

‘It is … if you want it to be.’

‘Give it a rest, yeah?’

Daniel lowered his eyes, nervously picking at his food.

Lewis cursed inwardly, seeing his son’s embarrassment. Struggling hard to keep his temper under control, he reached across and pinched one of Daniel’s chips.

‘I’ll be okay, Dan,’ he told him, before popping it into his mouth.

Megan was doing her final check on Sam’s ward before leaving for the day. Seeing him sitting on a chair by the side of his bed, she went over to him with a fresh jug of water. She wondered if she dared ask about the visit from the police. She knew she shouldn’t pry, but she liked to think that she and Sam had a little bit more rapport between them than when she spoke to other patients. Besides, she wanted to know.

‘I’m sure I spotted Keera earlier,’ she said, as she popped the jug on top of the bedside cabinet. ‘She was in the main corridor. I was going to say hello but she was too far away. Has she been to see you today?’

Sam snorted. ‘You really want to know why the police were here earlier, don’t you?’

‘Not unless you want to tell me.’ She kept her back to him, feeling her skin begin to flush at her fib.

‘Well, it was nothing to do with me. It’s a mate of mine they’re after.’

‘Oh.’ She turned to him with a smile. ‘Nothing for you to worry about then.’

‘Not yet.’

Megan looked at him, hoping he would elaborate, but he remained quiet.

‘My sister doesn’t really care,’ he said eventually.

‘Why?’

‘She only visits because Mum gets on to her.’

‘So your mum obviously cares?’

‘What’s your point?’

‘I see a lot of people in these wards.’ Megan began to wipe around the surface, picking up the two get-well cards and placing them back again. ‘Some patients don’t have anyone to visit them. So despite your moaning because you feel sorry for yourself, you should really be grateful that they come to see you at all.’

‘You need to mind your own business.’

‘And you need to smile once in a while. You look lovely when you do.’ Megan bit her bottom lip as she realised she had spoken her thoughts aloud.

‘Ha, I’m sexy and I know it.’ Sam treated her to a rare smile. Up close, he had soft features beneath the hard exterior he portrayed, and gorgeous eyes that lit up his face.

‘At least I made you smile,’ she replied.

‘Are you paid to talk shite?’

Megan’s shoulders dropped. ‘Of course not – I just like to make people feel happy.’

‘Why? Because it brightens up your day?’

‘Actually, I’d like to think that I brighten up someone else’s day when I have a chat with them.’

‘How could I feel bright with this?’ Sam held up his hand and then flopped it down in despair. ‘No girl’s going to look at me when they see this, are they?’