He looked at Judy and shook his head. ‘I’m such an idiot,’ he whispered. ‘I should have known there was something else! I think I understand it now.’ He held Judy’s hand in his. ‘It was
him
wasn’t it?
He
told you to get rid of me, probably threatened you. And I didn’t have the sense to realise.’
At this point,
Don stepped forward. ‘I’d like a word,’ he whispered to Harry, then he walked away and Harry followed him out to the corridor.
Don turned to face him. ‘What did you mean just now,’ he asked, ‘when you spoke to Judy and said, “He told you to get rid of me”?’ So what exactly did you mean by that?’
Harry misinterpreted his interest. ‘Oh, look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it out loud,’ he apologised,
‘I was
thinking
aloud, that’s all. I never meant to upset anyone, least of all Judy!’
‘No!’ Don laid his hand on Harry’s arm, ‘You’ve got me wrong. I want to know who
he
is. I want his name. I need to know everything about him. What was Judy to him? How did he treat her? Where did they live?’ Then he remembered the sordid scene in the house at Jackson Street.
Harry told him everything he knew.
He reminded Don of the boy who had his mind set on Judy even back then, when they were just teenagers. He explained that Judy and Phil Saunders were married and that if the rumours were anything to go by, Phil was a pig to her.
‘There are stories,’ he told Don. ‘I know what I think, and I
mean to get to the bottom of it. The thing is, you can’t ever tell what’s true and what’s not, though one
thing is certain … he’s a bully through and through. He’ll never change. He even came to see me, warned me off talking to Judy.’
A thought occurred to him. ‘The nurse mentioned that he was brought in … just down the corridor apparently. He’d been shot, but the bullet almost missed him and he only received a very slight flesh wound. He was fit enough to be released. He’d already gone when I heard.’
Don was anxious, ‘So, he was shot, was he?’ he asked nervously. ‘Was it Judy, d’you think? Is that why she was running from the house? Is that why she didn’t see the van – because she had tried to kill him and was in a panic?’
‘The same idea crossed my mind, but right now, it’s Judy who concerns me. Everything else can wait. And if Phil Saunders comes anywhere near Judy, I’ll kill him with my
own bare hands.’
Don nodded. ‘I understand what you’re saying, and that’s good.’
He shook Harry by the hand; Harry was not surprised to feel that the older man’s hand was trembling. ‘Thank you for being there, when we weren’t,’ Don finished. ‘You’re a good man. I know you’ll look after my daughter.’
Together they went back into the ward, where Nancy was seated on the chair, her two arms stretched
out to Judy. When she saw the two men come in, she stood up. ‘I’ll see if I can get us all a drink,’ she said.
‘Not for me, Nancy.’ Don could not take his eyes off Judy, all swathed in bandages, and looking so small and helpless. ‘I need to get some more fresh air. I’ll take a walk round the grounds, then I’ll be back. Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine. Really.’
He took another long look
at Judy, then he leaned down and kissed her on the face. ‘Get well soon, my love,’ he whispered. ‘He can’t hurt you any more.’
While Don went away to settle his mind, Nancy and Harry took it in turns to sit with Judy, willing her to come through.
Kathleen sat against the far wall, watching Judy’s still face, and every now and then offering a prayer. After an hour or so, she got up and said
her goodbyes. ‘I shouldn’t leave Tom too long,’ she explained. ‘Ruthie Bates from lower down is very capable and a
lovely soul, but it’s best if I’m there. The wee lad might be getting worried.’
Harry much appreciated that. ‘Do what you think is right, Kathleen,’ he told her. ‘I want to stay here with Judy, if that’s all right with you?’
Kathleen nodded. ‘Ah, sure, that goes without saying,
so it does. I’ll give young Tom a big hug from his daddy, how about that?’
Pauline from the Bedford Arms had also got wind of the accident and she arrived to visit Judy. Seeing that the family were there, she only stayed for a while and went away devastated, blaming herself. ‘Tell her I’ll be waiting,’ she told Harry tearfully. ‘Tell her I love her.’ And he promised he would. They each felt a
measure of guilt with regards to Judy.
When Mac arrived for his visit, leaving Rita in the hotel, the frostiness between himself and Don was painfully apparent. Everyone took turns to sit with Judy, though as always Harry remained present, either at her side, or watching from the back.
When Mac went outside for a cigarette, Nancy followed him. She felt the need to talk, and wanted to know how
Sammie was, amongst everything else. She missed her daughter. By now, they knew a little more about what had really happened. She told Mac how Phil Saunders had been found lying unconscious where he had fallen. He had been shot, but by a miracle, the bullet had skidded along his temple, leaving him alive, and concussed from the fall. Ironically, he was taken to this same hospital, treated for his
head injury, and sent home.
Back on the ward, where all was quiet, Harry found himself alone with his beloved. Nancy had gone to telephone Sammie, and Mac had gone with her, to have a few words with his niece himself.
He sat down and leaned over to whisper in Judy’s ear: ‘Nancy’s here, sweetheart. Your sister came to see you. We’re all here for you, so you’ll just have to get better, won’t you,
eh, my precious?’
He kissed her full on the mouth, caressing her hands, doing everything he could think of, to bring her back.
At the mention of Nancy, some lost, dark image seemed to penetrate Judy’s subconscious. She began to stir, moaning incoherently, her hands twitching, reaching out.
‘Nurse! Nurse, come quickly!’ Harry called.
The Sister arrived immediately, and sent for the doctor.
While Harry stepped away to give him room, the doctor gently examined Judy. ‘It’s all right, Mrs Saunders. Easy now.’ He spoke softly, in soothing tones. ‘Just lie still … try not to move.’
After a moment or two he went on, still in the same quiet voice: ‘You were injured in an accident. You have a surgical collar around your neck and your leg is in traction. Look at me … can you see me, Judy?’
Leaning closer, he kept his face on a level with hers. ‘Don’t look up at the lights,’ he warned. ‘Look straight ahead. Look at me, if you can.’
Not yet fully conscious, Judy struggled, thrashing the bed with the flat of her hands, until the doctor took hold of them and held them still. ‘Look at me, Judy,’ he coaxed. ‘Can you hear me? If you can hear me, squeeze my hands.’
A moment passed, with
him persuading her to do as he asked, until suddenly he smiled. ‘That’s it, Judy. I felt you squeeze my hands, so now I know you can hear me. Now, can you open your eyes? Try, Judy … try to open your eyes. Don’t look up at the lights. Look straight at me.’
Harry stood by the end of the bed, his hands gripping the bedrail so tight it hurt.
They all waited for what seemed an age, with the nurse
keeping an eye on Judy, as the doctor coaxed her through. ‘Can you say your name, Judy?’ he was asking. ‘Say your name for me, Judy. Can you do that?’
When it seemed that the patient was incapable of speaking, he turned to the nurse. ‘Stay with her, Sister,’ he instructed. ‘Call me the minute there is any change. Oh, and for now, it might be advisable for any visitors to leave. The patient needs
to rest.’
He was heading for the door, when Judy made a small, broken sound. Spinning on his heel, the doctor hurried to her side. ‘That’s it, Judy. Take your time. What is it you’re trying to say?’
Having re-entered the room, Mac stood by the door, his heart in his mouth. She mustn’t tell! All he could think of was the terrible truth locked in Judy’s tortured mind – and the awful consequences
if that truth was ever revealed.
Harry though, was thrilled to hear Judy’s incoherent mutterings. ‘Come on, love!’ he encouraged her. ‘We’re here, sweetheart. We’re all here for you.’
When she opened her eyes, all present gave silent thanks.
The young doctor spoke to Judy in soft, careful tones. ‘What is it you’re trying to say?’ he repeated.
Judy could hear him. She could hear what was being
said, but somehow what she had in her head, would not come out of her mouth. She tried to speak but it was hard … so very hard.
When she looked up and saw Harry, she grew excited. The doctor beckoned Harry closer.
Harry held her hand. ‘I’m here,’ he assured her lovingly. ‘I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.’
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. ‘Want … Nan …’ She looked
at Harry with such anguish, but she could say no more.
Harry knew. ‘You want Nancy, is that it? Do you want me to get Nancy for you?’
Her eyes lit up, and the tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of her mouth.
While Harry went off to find Nancy, the doctor had a few words to say to Judy. ‘I’ll leave you with Sister Carter for now,’ he told her. ‘You’re doing just fine. Don’t overdo it, now.
I’ll be back to see you in a little while.’ He then had a few words with the Sister who checked the monitors.
Outside, Nancy was still wandering the grounds, searching for her father. Thrilled to hear that Judy had opened her eyes and had actually asked for her, Nancy went back at the run. ‘Your dad probably needs a bit of time to himself,’ Harry said as he panted alongside. ‘There is so much
history to deal with here.’ He knew enough to be aware that Judy had been sadly neglected; though this was not the time for recriminations.
By the time they got to her bedside, Judy had drifted back to sleep. It was not a contented sleep, however, but one filled with nightmares and terror.
The one thing that made her smile, made her battered heart leap with joy, was the face of a small child.
Her beloved daughter.
Her
daughter, not Harry’s.
No, not his!
‘Judy.’ Nancy’s quiet voice penetrated these visions. ‘Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Nancy.’
With her every sense in chaos, Judy was shifting about in a strange place. She saw Nancy in her dreams; she needed Nancy now. She needed her to know something.
She needed to tell!
She had to get this secret off her chest.
In her dreams, she
found her sister. She whispered things to her. Terrible, heartbreaking things. Things that had haunted her for too long. Things she could not live with any more.
And when she had imparted that shocking secret, she felt lighter of heart. All her troubles, all that long time, and now she was free, at last.
Still seated by the bedside, with her head close to Judy’s, listening
in horror, Nancy remained
motionless, her body grown cold but her mind alive with what Judy had told her; something she had known all along on an instinctive level but which she had chosen not to acknowledge.
In a deep state of shock, she looked round, until her sorry gaze fell on the man by the door. She locked her eyes with his, and Mac knew the truth was out at last.
It was over. It was all over.
Don drove the
car carefully along Jackson Street; he had written the address down. He checked it now, to make sure he was at the right place.
Satisfied, he parked, got out and walked up the steps to the front door. Then he knocked.
When no one came, he knocked again, this time louder.
The curtain at the ground-floor window began to twitch and a man’s face appeared. ‘What d’you want?’ Saunders’ voice was
muffled by the thickness of the windowpane.
Don told him. ‘Open the door. We need to talk.’
‘I ain’t got nothing else to say.’ The curtain was abruptly closed. ‘BUGGER OFF OUT OF IT!’
Don gave another forceful knock on the door.
The curtain opened again. ‘I’ve already told you rozzers everything I remember. The bitch shot me, that’s all I know. We were just talking, then she grabbed the gun
and shot me! Ain’t that enough?’
Ah, so he thought Don was a policeman. Don was delighted. It was working in his favour. ‘If you don’t open this door right now, I’ll be back with another officer and a warrant,’ he threatened. ‘It’s up to you.’
When he turned to leave, just as he had hoped, the door was flung open. ‘You’d best come in then, hadn’t yer?’ Unshaven and bedraggled, with a bandage
round his head, Saunders looked wild.
Don closed the door behind him and followed Saunders through to the sitting room. Saunders ranted. ‘You ought to be ashamed, hounding a sick man like this. Anybody’d think it were me who pulled the trigger. So, come on then! What d’you want to know now?’
Don had discreetly cased the room, and now that he had the lie of the land, he knew the ways and means.
‘I need you to answer a few questions,’ he told Saunders. ‘This time though, we want the truth.’
Saunders began throwing his arms about, threatening all and sundry. ‘I’ve already told you! We were just talking – nothing rowdy, nothing bad, just talking. Then she had this gun … pointed it straight at me, she did; shot me in the head.’ He rambled on incoherently. ‘THE BITCH SHOT ME IN THE HEAD!’
Phil had been informed of his wife’s accident and knew that she was still unconscious, with her family around her. ‘There’ll be time enough to deal with her later,’ he had muttered to himself when the doctor had gone. And now he had returned home, to watch and wait. Every time he looked in the mirror and saw the gash on his face, he planned his vengeance step by wicked step. There had to be that
one time, he thought, when she would be alone …
Suddenly he was going crazy, grabbing the sides of his head and saying how he was in pain, and he had to have a drink. He went into the kitchen and began pouring whisky into a cup, still raving, still calling Judy every foul name he could think of.
Then he took a great swig of the whisky and came back into the sitting room. ‘She was little better
than a prostitute when I picked her up out the gutter. What thanks did I get for it, eh? None, that’s what! That little cow made my life a misery for years. If she dies it won’t be no fault o’ mine.’ He laughed out loud. ‘I hope she does peg out. It’s what she deserves!’