Chapter 4

Frowning, Melissa picked up the envelope, untucked the flap and removed the single sheet of note-paper.

"Darling girl. You have been, and are, a far better daughter than I could have hoped or deserve. This is just to say 'I love you'. Dad."

'Oh, Daddy ... what are you doing?' She stood still, looking at the few words. After a while she shrugged. 'Suppose there's not much I can do just now anyway... ' Suddenly uninterested in cooking, she put together a sandwich and clamped it into the sandwich toaster. The kettle boiled and she made tea, then as the timer bleeped, she took the toastie to the table.

Her current reading matter, a thriller, failed to hold her attention as she ate, or, afterwards as she finished her tea. For the first time, she wished she had a close friend she could talk to. Through school, she'd always been so serious and focussed on her studies she'd not formed close friendships. In her teens, while not unattractive, she hadn't thought of herself as pretty and hadn't wanted to spare the time and trouble to improve her chances. Boys largely ignored her and she had little in common with her female peers. Actually, intellectually, she had no peers. Seriously bright, she had the sort of mind that needed to have everything in order.

She could ring Stacey; she'd been kind and supportive ... but...

The phone rang; a 'private caller', number withheld call. She picked up.

"Hello."

"When you see your father, just think about being careful about where you stick your nose in."

Click. Buzz.

What?

An hour later, there was still no sign of her father and the phone rang again, also with a 'no number' tag. She hesitated, but picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Who am I speaking to, please?" It was a woman's voice. There were noises, voices, in the background.

"My name is Melissa Sharpe."

"This is Sister Sadler, at the Northern General Accident and Emergency Department. A man has been brought in unconscious. We got this number from his mobile phone, but it was just under 'home'."

"Is he..."

"He's just gone down to theatre. Are you related?"

"I think it must be my father."

"You might like to come here. I'd recommend getting a friend to drive you."

She froze. It took everything she had in her to acknowledge the call with a "Thanks," and hang up. 'Now, I really do need that friend. Who can I call?' It was tempting to just get in her car and drive to the hospital. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Picked up her phone and called Stacey.

"Stacey?"

"Hey, Mel, you sound a bit rough. Are you okay?"

"Not really, Stacey ... I just had a call from the Northern General. My Dad was admitted, unconscious, and is now in surgery. It ... they suggested I bring a friend along. I think..."

"You think it's something serious."

"Yeah."

"I'll be there ... say ... ten minutes. I'll drive you."

Ten minutes were an eternity of uncertainty. Melissa had regained motor control of her body and was pacing restlessly in her drive when Stacey arrived, leaned across and opened the passenger door of her car. The car was moving as soon as the door shut and before Melissa had her seat belt fastened. The car bleeped its warning of that as Stacey accelerated away. Melissa fumbled with the belt, distracted both by her worry and the noise, but it clicked into place eventually.

Melissa expected Stacey to drop her at the Casualty entrance, but instead she circled the car-park looking for a space. She picked up on Melissa's emotion, and calmly said, "I need to be with you, or I won't be able to find you. I'm here to support you, and I can't do that while walking around searching for you."

Melissa sighed and managed to suppress her fear; enough, at least, to continue to function. At the reception desk, they were pointed to a small room to await the Sister, who would tell them the current status.

The wait seemed interminable, but was probably only about five minutes. A young woman in dark blue entered.

"Miss Sharpe?"

"That's me. This is my friend Stacey, who brought me here."

"Good. Well. Your father was brought in having been knocked down by a bus. He was unconscious, with a number of broken bones and serious internal injuries. We were able to access his mobile phone to contact you. Following our assessment here, he was moved immediately to emergency surgery and is likely to be there for some time yet."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Only that he appeared to stumble. The bus driver called 999. He's quite distressed, apparently."

Melissa nodded.

"I can't tell you more, I'm afraid. If you'd like to go to Surgical ITU," (Intensive Therapy Unit), "there'll be somewhere you can wait."

The wait was interminable.

Sometime in there, Melissa cleared her throat. "I had a weird phone call before the hospital called me." She explained and Stacey looked grim.

"I need to call someone."

Charlotte's mobile phone rang – Darth Vader's theme from 'Star Wars' – just as we were about to pass through the security checks at Manchester Airport on our way to Berlin. We looked at each other and I shrugged. She answered it.

"Stacey?"

"Oh ... really? Well, I'm at Manchester Ringway, just about to take a flight to Berlin, so I can't come. Better call Jen Song and say I told you to call her."

"No number? I'll text it to you. Gotta go."

She busied herself with the device for several seconds before turning back to me. "It seems Mel Sharpe's father has been badly hurt and she's received a veiled threat. He's critically ill and in surgery. It had better not be the Stevens brothers."

"Is she okay?"

"Puzzled, confused, worried ... and I guess at least a little scared too, but safe for the time being. Jen'll keep an eye on her. Or maybe Dave." Charlie hesitated, then went on, "And ... Boss ... I shall be quite upset if the first thing you do on arrival is to call Liesl."

I looked at her and decided to take a chance. "Oh? What about Karin, then? Elfrieda? Heidi?"

Her face froze for a moment, then she shrugged. "Well, if that's what you want. I know I don't own you."

I reached and took her hand, which she half-heartedly tried to pull away. "Charlie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't tease you. Honestly, I hadn't thought about any of them. In fact, I really am sorry; I was taking you for granted. I assumed we'd be together. I did make sure we had a suite in the hotel, but obviously you don't have to use the other bedroom. In fact, I hope you don't. But..."

"Enough!" She leaned in and kissed me. "After what we've been doing these last few weeks, it was perfectly reasonable to assume. Thank you." She sat back and relaxed.

The flight continued; we held hands – it was curiously satisfying. We were almost at our destination when Charlie spoke again. "Why don't you like modern music?"

"Who said I don't like modern music?"

"You always have that classical stuff playing, when I hear it."

I didn't answer immediately. After a while, I asked, "Do you like everything you hear on the radio?"

"Well ... no. Some of it's ... I don't know..."