Chapter 7

Mike leapt up, his chair rolling back and smashing against the wall. He ran for the car to find Rosemary ahead of him. God! he thought fleetingly, her reactions are quick!

He drove too fast but almost safely. If they were to pick up a police car on the way, so much the better. As they drove, Rosemary phoned the police and then Liam Truscot in case the local lads didn't take it seriously.

They arrived at the house, Rosemary using the remote to open the gates while they were a hundred yards away.

The front door was wide open and they ran in and shuddered to a stop in the hallway. Claire was lying on the hall floor in a pool of blood, completely naked and unconscious. She had been savagely beaten and stabbed and slashed a number of times. He took in the ugly slash down her cheek and her bruised face, her bruised body and the cuts to her breasts, stomach and thighs, the blood. Rosemary ran to her and seemed about to move her.

"Don't!" he cried. "We don't know if she has a spinal injury!"

She shot him a look of contempt and bent to try for a pulse on her neck.

"Alive," she said.

Rosemary was gently calling her name, and she stirred.

She opened her eyes but she was only semi-conscious.

"Shania!" she said, quite clearly, and then lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Then it hit Mike. Gary had finished with Claire thinking he'd killed her; now he was after his daughter.

"Tell the police about the alarm," he shouted as he left. "The cameras will have been working. I'm going after Siobhán at school. Tell them that."

He drove hard to the school and skidded to a halt in the space reserved for buses. He ran towards the main entrance, only to be stopped by the caretaker.

"Sorry sir," the man said. Mike wondered why the most officious characters always call you 'sir'. "You can't park there, and you can't go in there either. There's a madman in there."

"Yes," Mike shouted in his face, "and he's here to kill my daughter so get the fuck out of my way."

The man saw the wisdom in Mike's argument immediately and stood aside. Mike approached the entrance only to be confronted by a strange tableau.

A slim but well built handsome dark haired man, dressed in what could only be called a flashy suit, was behind a woman dressed in a flowery tabard, a dinner lady perhaps. He was holding one of her hands behind her back and had a knife against her throat. Somehow the suit he was wearing made the whole thing seem incongruous. Neither was moving. Not surprisingly.

As Mike gingerly made his way through the entrance doors, the man who Mike took to be Gary was shouting at the office staff through the glass partition which protected them from just this eventuality.

"I'll give you one minute to get my daughter or I cut her throat," he yelled. "I've got nothing to lose. Move!"

Mike could see one of the secretaries dialling a number. He doubted it was to a classroom. Then another woman emerged, sidled past him and ran off down the corridor. From what the man shouted, Mike knew it was Gary. Gary hadn't seen Mike, so intent was he on holding onto the dinner woman. Mike knew he needed to distract him and divert him from her.

"Gary," Mike spoke quietly but firmly. "I'm the man Claire left you for."

It worked. His head jerked round, he let go of the woman and turned to face Mike. The knife was a longish thin kitchen knife and now it was pointing at Mike. Out of the corner of Mike's eye he could see the woman stumbling away.

Gary laughed, "If the bitch isn't dead already, you won't want her now. I've seen to that. But you! This is a bonus."

The distance between them was about ten yards. Mike kept to the middle of the entrance hall; he needed room to manoeuvre. He suddenly realised that he was in a short-sleeved shirt and light trousers; it was a very warm day now after the early rain and he had rushed from the office as he was. Somehow it made him feel more vulnerable, almost naked.

Gary began to move towards him, an evil grin on his face.

"What d'you want your daughter for?" Mike asked. "She's not done anything to you."

"She's like her mother!" he snarled. "I said I'd kill the lot of them. If I can't have them no one will."

"You're a bit of an idiot then," Mike mocked him, playing for time; Gary was edging closer.

"You'll not get either of your daughters or your son," Mike nodded at the office reception. "They've already phoned the police. You're done for. The two young ones are out of your reach and I'll not let you near Siobhán."

Gary stopped, perplexed, "Who's Siobhán?"

"She's changed her name," Mike told him. "She hated the name Shania that you gave her. Come to think of it, she hates you. You bastard! Sexually abusing, beating up, kicking your own daughter. They'll love you in prison."

"You cunt!" he muttered. "They may get me, but you won't be alive to see it."

He was now within arm's reach. Mike braced himself to dodge his attack. Gary waved the knife to and fro in front of him, then suddenly his arm flashed forward too quick for Mike. Mike felt a searing pain as the knife sliced his left arm above the elbow. The knife was not razor sharp and it hurt. He instinctively brought his right hand to cover the wound and that allowed Gary to make a second jab, this time at Mike's left thigh. Another flash of intense pain.

In the split second after that, Mike realised he was going to die unless he did something drastic. Gary laughed mockingly. Mike dropped his right hand to his side, though everything in him screamed to hold the wounds.

"Well, well!" Gary crowed. "Not quite quick enough are we? A few more cuts before I finish you off? Like that would you?"

He lunged forward. This time it was going for Mike's chest to stab rather than cut. Mike swayed to his right, holding his injured arm out, and Gary missed his chest. Instead he caught his ribcage a glancing blow. Another cut, another shot of pain, though by this time the adrenaline must have cut in because it seemed less intense. As Gary's arm passed under Mike's armpit Mike trapped it with his arm. The pain coursed through him but he held on. Mike knew he was too near Gary to land any blows.

It was not enough, Mike was losing strength. Gary pulled the knife away out with surprising force for such a slim man and the blade caught Mike's ribcage a second time. Mike leapt back as he came free and took another two or three steps back to get clear of Gary who came after him. Gary was enraged, his face red and his eyes wild. Mike knew then for certain that he was going to die.

Sonter came forward, the knife pulled back and low ready for a strike to Mike's stomach, but as he took his second and third steps and Mike his fourth backwards, Mike was saved by a voice.

"Dad!" It was Siobhán. "What the hell are you doing?"

Gary lost his focus. He half turned to see his daughter. The distraction meant he lowered the knife and it no longer pointed at Mike. It was enough, all Mike needed. He closed on Gary and as Gary's head jerked round to find Mike again Mike gave him what is known as a 'Glasgow Kiss'.

He head-butted Gary's nose and between the eyes with his forehead as hard as he could. It hurt his head but it did worse to Gary, whose nose was broken and flattened. Gary began to fall backward, arms out to save himself. Mike dived forward and with both his hands caught Gary's right wrist which still held the knife, twisting it hard. The pain Mike felt was excruciating, but the knife flew from Gary's hand and Gary's own backward momentum did the rest. Mike heard a bone crack a second before he had to let go to prevent himself from falling on top of Gary.

Mike looked down, the floor was red with blood, his own, and his left side, arm and leg were bleeding profusely. The pain all came back, everything became blurred and distant and he sank down onto the ground. Then blackness crept over and enveloped him.

The police were running in as Mike disarmed Gary and they prevented the Head Teacher who had emerged somewhat belatedly at that moment from picking up the knife. Just as well since it had Mike's and Claire's DNA on the blade, and Gary's fingerprints all over the handle. Gary was stunned and his arm was broken so he was a threat no longer.

Mike came to consciousness in semi-darkness. He didn't know where he was but he did know he had the mother of all headaches. There was a cannula attached to his hand, and that informed him that he was in hospital, and a bottle of plasma on his other side.

"He's awake."

The voice was Rosemary's and he felt her take his other hand in hers. He turned his head to see her and the pain in his head was blistering.

"How d'you feel, our hero?" she asked, smiling.

"There's someone in my head hammering to get out," Mike groaned.

"We can sort that out," said another voice and a nurse came into view. The nurse had stubble on his chin and Mike thought he must have had a long shift, but he put a needle into the cannula on the back of Mike's hand, and the next Mike knew it was a bright late sunny morning and he felt fragile but better.

It all came back to him. He started up and immediately a gentle hand pushed him back.

"Lie still Dad," said a familiar female voice and there was Siobhán. She kissed his cheek and there was a tear in her eye. "You've been out of it for two days, just relax."

"Claire? What about Claire?" he groaned; he had remembered, and he was worried sick. The picture of her lying unconscious on the floor came back with unnerving clarity.

"Dad, Dad," she soothed. "Mum's out of danger. All the stab wounds missed vital organs, and they've operated on her. She's still in Intensive Care, but out of danger. Don't worry."

"Have you seen her?" he was calmer now.

"Yes," she answered. "She's not conscious yet; they're keeping her sedated."

"I must see her!" he started to sit up again.

"Dad, you lost a lot of blood. You're very weak. Just lie still. Rosemary's with her."

She was right. He felt dizzy and faint from just trying to sit up. Pain jabbed into his left arm and his chest; there was a duller throbbing from his thigh.

"What about Ginny and Ryan?"

"Safely off to school. Rosemary's been great, and Julie came in while she was here with you in hospital."

"You're not at school."

"Full marks for observation Dad," she laughed. "I'm supposed to be in shock. Anyway, I'm not going back until one of you is out of here."

"You're calling me Dad again," he admonished her.

"That's right," she said with an air of stubbornness. "From now on that's what you are. You rushed to save my life. You would have died to save me; you nearly did. That's what Dads do. That bastard, sorry Dad but he is one, wanted to kill me. He's not my dad; I'm ashamed he's my father. Let me call you Dad, please?"

What could he say? In any case the conversation was getting too much for him and he started to nod off.

She stroked his forehead and planted a gentle kiss on it, and he drifted back into sleep.

He woke again when a nurse, female and pretty this time, brought him some lunch. There were no visitors. He realised he was hungry and ate everything on the tray. He immediately felt better. He pressed the bell and asked for some more tea, after drinking which he felt even better.

He discovered he was wearing pyjamas. It had been so long since he had worn anything to bed that he wasn't sure they were his, until a nurse assured him that his 'daughter' had brought them in.

Later he was allowed to walk or rather hobble with a nurse fussing by his side, to the toilet. She asked if he needed a hand and when he answered that he thought he could just about hold his own, she obligingly laughed.

Next day, Rosemary visited him in the afternoon before leaving to meet Ginny and Ryan from school. In the evening Siobhán brought the two younger children in to see him.

Ginny looked a little overawed, but Ryan was unperturbed. They prattled about school and about Rosemary and Julie, and soon it was time to go. Siobhán returned a while later to tell him that Claire was out of intensive care and would be brought round slowly from sedation beginning the next day.

Next day he was allowed out of bed and took some limited exercise up and down the ward and the corridors outside. In the afternoon he was told he would be allowed home next day. Siobhán came to tell him that Claire was 'sort of conscious', as they were bringing her out of sedation slowly. They were worried about the head injuries.

By the next day he was feeling a lot better, and the stitched gashes on his arm, leg and chest were beginning to heal nicely though they still hurt. The dressings would have to be changed often but he had mobility.

He tried to see Claire, but was told she was being treated and would not be back on the ward until evening. Rosemary as always came to his rescue and drove him home. The day of the attack she had cleaned the blood off the floor and the walls of the entrance hall, once the SOCO team had finished, so the house was clean. [SOCO: Scene Of Crime Officers, otherwise known as CSI]

That evening he drove back to the hospital himself. It hurt his arm and chest. He was admitted to Claire's ward and was shocked at her appearance. She looked dreadful and his reaction must have shown in his face.

"Bit of a shock?" she said in a flat tone.

"You forget I saw you on the floor at the house; you look much better." He tried to sound upbeat but he could see she was very depressed by her appearance.

He got down to business. He said he needed to get a live-in nanny for the children, to which she agreed and he promised to bring a likely candidate to her for her approval. He made a mental note that the woman must not be too good looking. He managed to see the doctor and got a run down on her condition. She checked he was Claire's next of kin, than sat with him and did not hold back.

"She's very morose," she said. "She will be badly scarred on her body, but the stab wounds in her legs are healing well. Her assailant cut a muscle when he slashed her cheek, so one side of her face is paralysed at the moment. There will be another operation to attempt to improve things for her, but it's unlikely she will fully recover."