Chapter 3

I've never liked hospitals – who does? - and when I returned to consciousness there was no doubt in my mind that was where I was. The subdued lighting, faint bleeping sounds, footsteps walking on a hard floor, antiseptic smells, a sense of space ... occupied space.

My head hurt. My neck ... hurt. My mouth ... foul. I didn't move, but for my eyes, so all I could really see was ceiling and curtain track. Foot steps by the bed – how much later? - a quiet voice.

"Hello, there, Mister Fletcher. I'm Janet, nurse-in-charge tonight. How are you feeling?"

"Rotten," I croaked.

"Not surprising. Thirsty?"

"Yes."

"Just a moment."

Interminable pause, then a straw between my lips. Cold water – blessed, delicious, cold water, most of it soaked up by the desert-dry lining of my mouth. "That's enough." Her voice firm. "More in a while, if that stays down."

"What happened?"

"You were attacked."

"Well, yes." I almost said, 'well, duh... '.

"I don't know the details."

"Oh. I wanted to know ... I need to know ... if Betty and Sally are alright."

"Betty and Sally?"

"My fiancée and her daughter."

"Ah. Well I can maybe find out for you. I have strict instructions to make a call when you woke." She left me and I could hear her footsteps. Not too many. A pause, then her voice again. "Ms McKenzie, you asked me to call." Longish pause, "He's awake and so far it's looking good. He's asking about Betty and Sally." Very long pause. "Oh, I see. I'll tell him that."

Her footsteps, purposeful, too loud for night-time. "Well, Mister Fletcher. Ms Hardcastle and her daughter are well and unharmed. Your assailant is in jail and unlikely to emerge in the foreseeable future. Are you happy now?"

"Happier. Especially if I can have some more of that water."

The light pressure of the straw on the corner of my lips and another taste of water. Not enough when it was taken away.

"Rest now. Close your eyes, and you'll sleep."

No I won't. But I do. When I surfaced again there was the morning bustle and the midnight angel had gone home. A – what do they call them these days? - Health Care Assistants? comes to me with a bowl of warm water. Thankfully, just face and hands.

Breakfast. Limp toast and weak milky tea. Horrible. A student nurse takes pity on me and finds me a glass of orange juice. Then, it's nurse my residual aches and pains, half watching the morning activity around me until rounds. Doctor poking, prodding, shining lights in my eyes. "Well, Mister Fletcher, I think we can kick you out this morning. We'll give you a list of instructions. The aches and pains should subside over the next few days ... take paracetamol, or ibuprofen. If the latter, make sure you eat something first. Any dizziness, nausea, or if the headache doesn't fade, come back. That's it." He turned to the Sister. "He can go as long as someone collects him, Sister."

She turned and looked round. A nurse scurried over and Sister spoke quietly to her, then the whole troop moved on. A little later a trolley comes round with tea and coffee. The coffee is instant, weak, and bitter, but takes the edge off my need for caffeine. A nurse ... HCA ... whatever ... comes, pulls curtains round, and helps me dress. I considered asking her to leave, but I'm not entirely steady on my feet and she's matter-of-fact, impersonal, detached.

"Ms McKenzie said she'd be along before mid-day," the woman told me. "If you don't mind sitting in the lounge, I can strip this bed."

"Okay."

"I'll walk with you."

I took a step or two and tottered; she reached out and steadied me. I had thought I'd say I could manage, but decided not to. In the lounge, the television was playing. Daytime television. Volume on low, so it was impossible to follow with the other noises and conversations going on. The wait seemed interminable.

"James." Sally McKenzie's mellow contralto. "If ... may I call you that?"

I smiled at her. "If it's okay to call you Sally."

"Ready to go?"

"Absolutely."

She'd ordered a taxi. Parking at the hospital is difficult and expensive and the taxi can stop right by the entrance. It's a silent ride back home and Sally paid the fare.

"Be gentle with her," she said as we walked up the path to the front door. I looked at her, eyebrows raised. "You'll understand," was all she added.

I unlocked the door, glancing at the torn wood where the chain anchor point had been ripped out. At least the damage was superficial and the door still locked. I paused in the hall and Sally emerged from the kitchen, closely followed by her mother. Betty stopped, though, as Sally ran to me, arms out. "Daddy!"

I was reaching down to pick her up, but decided in time that was not a good idea and squatted to be at eye level with her. She came to an abrupt halt just in front of me. "Daddy?"

I held my arms wide. "Baby," and she jumped into my embrace, her arms tight round my neck, her cheek soft and warm against my stubble. I closed my eyes and just revelled in the feeling of uncomplicated love from the little girl. When I opened them, I looked up to see Betty, who had walked a little closer. Our eyes met, and I wanted to cry at her expression. "Sally, darling," I spoke quietly in the little girl's ear.

"Yes, Daddy."

"I need to talk to Mummy a bit. Will you go and find something to watch on the telly?"

"Yes, Daddy," but she clung a few moments longer and softly kissed my cheek before letting go.

I stood stiffly, still uncomfortable and a little unsteady. Betty and I faced each other across a couple of yards. A solitary tear trickled down her left cheek. I stepped up to her and wrapped my arms round her, but hers stayed straight down by her side.

"Betty, darling..."

"He could have killed you."

"But he didn't." She slumped against me, shaking her head. "Betty, I love you. I had to face him or I couldn't look at myself in the mirror!"

It was about that point that Daffy got fed up of being ignored and poked her nose between my legs from behind, which distracted me for a moment. I let go of Betty with my right hand to pet the dog which promptly and, for her uncharacteristically, rose on her back legs to push against my hand. "We'll talk about this some more later, Betty. Mustn't neglect Sally, or Daffy for that matter."

Suddenly brisk, she pulled away, "I don't suppose you've had anything to eat?"

"Soggy toast for breakfast."

"That won't do. Cheese toastie and tomato soup?"

"Sounds wonderful." I carefully made my way into the lounge, where Sally was watching something that involved adults jumping around and singing while dressed in a weird assortment of animal costumes with normally dressed kids. I sat on the couch next to her and, without taking her eyes off the screen, she shuffled across and climbed into my lap. Daffy sat next to me and rested her chin on my knee. Sally giggled as Daffy's whiskers tickled her leg. The programme ended and a horribly cheerful young woman began babbling on about birthdays and what was coming next. Sally twisted on my lap and kissed my cheek again.

"Let's go see if Mummy's got lunch ready."

It wasn't, quite, but there wasn't long to wait before bowls of fragrant tomato soup were placed on the table in front of us, followed by the neat triangular packets that were cheese toasties. Although hungry, I didn't have much appetite and was soon satisfied; the tangy cheese and soup were perfect. I pushed my chair back with a sigh and realised I was sleepy.

I opened my mouth to say I was tired and going to bed, but before I could get a sound out, Betty came round, perched on my lap and kissed me on the lips.

"I'm sorry, Baby," she said when she drew back, "I was selfishly thinking about how I felt. I still love you. I still feel I don't deserve you. But I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I appreciate you." We were face to face and her expression was earnest.

"Darling ... thank you. I'm really washed out, though, so I'm going up to lay down, okay?"

"Okay." She kissed the tip of my nose.

I must have dropped off pretty quickly, because it was late afternoon when the phone ringing woke me. I lay there, torpid, slowly waking up. Betty came in the room.

"Jamie, that was the police. They want to interview you and get your statement..."

"Tell them..." I paused, trying to get my head in gear. Shower. That's what I needed. "Tell them, an hour. Okay? I want a shower first."