Blood Rush (Lilly Valentine) Page 6

  When she reached the cot, Alice stiffened, her fat little legs as rigid as metal poles and Lilly told herself to remain calm. Alice hated her cot and bedtimes were often dramatic affairs with the sort of screaming that would put any banshee to shame.

  Every parenting manual in the bookshop sat in a pile by Lilly’s bed. There was nothing Gina Ford or Supernanny advised that Lilly hadn’t tried. Be firm. Keep lighting low. Sprinkle lavender oil on the sheets. None of it worked and as soon as Alice felt herself being lowered into her cot, she would crank up for action.

  ‘It’s not bedtime, sweetheart,’ Lilly sang out. ‘You just need to lie here while Mummy has something to eat and a shower.’

  Lilly reached out with one hand to start the mobile toy attached to the side of the cot. It had been a present from Penny and had no doubt cost a fortune.

  ‘She can’t be held twenty-four hours a day,’ Penny had chided. ‘She needs to know who’s boss.’

  Three pink bunnies began a gentle circle to the tune of ‘Oranges and Lemons’. Alice turned her neck to the tinkling sound and smiled.

  While she was distracted, Lilly seized her chance and lay Alice down. Alice was mesmerized, seemingly unaware where she was. Lilly touched her cheek then silently began to back out of the room. When Alice let out a murmur, Lilly froze, but it was nothing more than appreciation for the music. Lilly could picture the look of satisfaction on Penny’s face when she told her.

  Once out of the door and on the landing, Lilly breathed a sigh of relief and crept downstairs to grab a drink. Sam was in the kitchen, cleaning his rugby boots in the sink with a knife. He prised away each clod of earth around the stud and flicked it towards the plug hole. He watched Lilly open the fridge and take out the milk.

  ‘Aren’t you missing something?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Lilly. ‘A glass.’

  ‘A very small person with curly hair.’

  Lilly poured herself a drink and took a sip. ‘Alice is lying quietly in her cot.’

  Sam laughed. ‘Did you drug her?’

  ‘Very funny.’ Lilly poked out her tongue. ‘I simply told her who was boss.’

  Sam snorted and went back to his boots.

  ‘Is Dad coming over for you?’ Lilly asked.

  Sam nodded. On Friday mornings her ex-husband, David, would take Sam to school and collect him afterwards. They spent the night at his place, watching a movie, and on Saturday mornings they would go together to Sam’s school rugby matches. Lilly was certain that this arrangement didn’t please David’s girlfriend, Cara, but watching their son being pummelled into the mud by boys twice his size seemed to bring out the man in David, who had stood his ground.

  On cue, the doorbell rang.

  ‘Get it quick before Alice hears,’ Lilly shrieked.

  Sam held up his dirty hands like a surgeon waiting to be gloved. He looked around him as if in a strange place.

  The doorbell went again so Lilly flung down her milk and raced to the door, vaulting the recycling. As she threw it open David’s finger was poised over the bell to try again.

  ‘No,’ Lilly hissed and batted his hand away.

  ‘Ouch,’ David complained.

  ‘Alice is in her cot,’ Lilly whispered, ‘and if you disturb her I’ll have to kill you.’

  David gave her the same smile that had won her over all those years ago in university. She had thought him an arse. Another public-schoolboy with a sense of entitlement almost as big as his ambition. He’d made a joke about her accent in a Latin tutorial and she’d considered punching him. Then she caught the twinkle in his eye and couldn’t help laughing.

  He followed her through the cottage. ‘Is Jack here?’

  ‘You know full well that Jack and I aren’t together.’

  ‘But he’s here a lot,’ David opened his arms, ‘and you do change your mind like a stripper’s knickers.’

  The urge to punch him returned, but before Lilly could connect, David slipped past her and clapped Sam on the back.

  ‘We’re going to thrash Oak Hill tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘We?’ Lilly asked. ‘I thought it was just Sam getting a pasting.’

  David leant in to Sam and stage whispered. ‘Women will never understand the importance of sport, son.’

  ‘But we do understand the importance of staying alive,’ Lilly retorted.

  Father and son stood side by side and sighed at her.

  ‘Why don’t you get your sleepover bag, Sam,’ she suggested, and flicked on the kettle. ‘Tea?’

  ‘Thanks.’ David smiled.

  He accepted a cup and took an appreciative gulp.

  ‘Cara still got you on the wagon?’ Lilly asked.

  David curled his top lip. He was regularly forced into his girlfriend’s latest health craze and had previously suffered a macrobiotic diet, daily skin brushing and Ashtanga yoga to name but three. Her latest fad was a ban on caffeine.

  ‘Apparently taking the pledge reduces your chance of cancer, heart disease and strokes,’ he said.

  Lilly raised her glass of milk. ‘Here’s to living for ever.’

  David groaned and drained his tea.

  ‘Before we leave I need to give you this,’ he pulled a letter from his pocket and handed it to Lilly.

  She spotted Manor Park’s school crest on the headed note paper immediately and skimmed the first paragraph.

  Thank you for your enquiry about boarding facilities at Manor Park School.

  We are pleased to confirm that there is currently a place in Seymour House …

  ‘Don’t even go there.’ She held the letter between her thumb and forefinger as if it had been dropped in a puddle.

  ‘I went boarding when I was younger than Sam.’

  ‘And look how you turned out.’

  David ignored the crack. ‘It would make perfect sense now you have Alice and the new office. It can’t be easy.’

  Of course it wasn’t bloody easy. The house was a shambles, the office work was out of control and she didn’t even want to consider the new case she’d just taken on. But the solution did not lie in Sam living at school.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ Sam poked his head through the door.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ said Lilly and helped herself to another glass of milk.

  David held out his car keys. ‘Put your stuff in the boot, Sam, I’ll be out in a second.’

  Sam took the keys and sloped away.

  ‘It’s only twenty minutes away,’ said David. ‘You could pop in any time to see him.’

  ‘I don’t want to make an appointment to see my own son,’ Lilly replied. ‘He needs to be here with me and Alice, like a normal family.’

  At that moment Alice began to scream.

  David looked up at the ceiling. ‘If you say so, Lil.’

  Demi’s eyes blink open as she is ripped from sleep by the sudden removal of her quilt.

  ‘What do you think you are doing?’ asks Gran, her eyes sparkling like they’re filled with diamond dust.

  Demi shudders in the sudden blast of cold air. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Time you were up and ready for school.’

  Demi squeezes her eyes shut, as if she can escape the onslaught, but Gran’s heavy footfall to the window and the swoosh of the curtains opening tell her Gran is in no mood for an argument.

  ‘I want to come with you to see Malaya,’ she tries.

  Gran pushes out her lower lip. ‘No my girl, you will do your lessons and meet me at the hospital afterwards.’

  Demi gropes for the duvet but Gran pushes it out of reach.

  ‘And don’t bring those friends of yours again,’ Gran orders. ‘They are not nice girls.’

  Demi realizes she has no choice but to get up, so she swings her legs to the floor. She rubs her big toe against the spot where her rug is wearing through. The strings of matting that poke through are rough to the touch.

  A year ago, one of her classmates had a birthday party and everyone was invited, ev
en Demi. The carpet in the girl’s bedroom was creamy coloured and as thick as Demi’s thumb. While the other girls danced to the CD player, Demi watched their feet disappear into the soft pile. Gran suggested Demi ask the girl over for tea, but she didn’t.

  Demi hovers for a second, listening intently. She can hear Gran plod down the corridor to the bathroom. A moment later comes the flush of the toilet and the whoosh of water running down the pipes. She imagines Gran washing her lined hands. The water is so icy in the mornings that it stings, but that won’t stop Gran from rubbing soap between every finger, before a thorough rinse.

  At last she hears more steps, then the tell-tale thud of the front door. Gran has left and Demi is alone. She waits another second, to be sure, then pulls the quilt back on to the bed and enjoys the warmth and the silence.

  School is for losers. Everybody knows that.

  It was unbelievable how something as small as a baby could make so much noise. In better circumstances Lilly might have laughed.

  After David and Sam left, Alice had screamed until she was completely puce and each curl on her head sodden. It was as if she’d realized that she’d been tricked by Penny’s mobile toy and needed to make up for lost time. Lilly sang to her, waggled a teddy at her, made funny faces, but to no avail. Alice was incensed and determined to make her point.

  When the sobbing had subsided to mournful hiccups, Lilly had tried to at least brush her teeth, something she could do with one hand, but as soon as she reached for the tap, Alice took it as another call to arms.

  ‘I’ll say this for you,’ Lilly told Alice, ‘you’ve got stamina.’

  She checked the time. Jack was late. He’d said he’d give Alice her breakfast, then take her to nursery.

  The phone rang which seemed to increase Alice’s annoyance. She bellowed at the receiver.

  Lilly had to shout above the din. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Christ, woman, what did you do to Alice?’ said Jack.

  ‘We disagreed about the best Doctor Who of all time,’ said Lilly. ‘She’s not a fan of David Tennant.’

  He chuckled, but it was polite not warm. ‘I’ll get straight to the point, Lilly, I can’t get over to you today.’

  Lilly felt her stomach lurch.

  ‘Is this because of the McKenzie case?’ she asked.

  ‘No. Well sort of.’

  ‘I know you’re mad at me for taking it on, Jack, but I’m shocked you’d let your feelings come between you and Alice.’

  He paused for a second as if he was measuring his words. ‘Nothing will ever come between me and Alice.’

  He let that statement hang in the air.

  ‘Something’s come up at work that I can’t ignore,’ he said.

  ‘Something on the McKenzie case?’ Lilly asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you tell me what?’ she asked.

  ‘Not at this time.’

  ‘This is me you’re talking to, Jack.’

  He sighed. ‘You made this official, Lilly. You drew the line in the sand.’

  She opened her mouth to argue but knew there was no point. For one thing, it was entirely true.

  ‘Okay then,’ she said, ‘let me know when you have any information you can pass on.’

  ‘I will.’

  Lilly hung up the phone and pressed her lips together. Jack’s position was clear and she had brought it on herself.

  ‘Let’s get you to nursery.’ Lilly kissed Alice who had finally run out of steam.

  A shower would have to wait.

  She arrived outside Little Daisies half an hour later, Alice still in her sleep suit encrusted with baby rice, Lilly wearing a coat over her pyjamas and a ski hat to cover her unruly hair. A stray and frizzy ringlet tickled her nose and she blew it upwards in short blasts. She’d thrown a suit in the boot of her car and would change at work.

  Nikki came to the door. At twenty-two she was the senior nursery nurse, and never failed to make Lilly feel inadequate. She could smell out an empty nappy bag at ten paces.

  ‘Hello Mrs Valentine.’ She blinked at Lilly’s appearance.

  Lilly was about to explain that she wasn’t a Mrs but she stopped herself. Instead, she held Alice out like a parcel.

  ‘Ooh, she doesn’t look very good, does she?’ said Nikki.

  ‘Just sleepy,’ Lilly laughed. ‘She’s worn herself out screaming.’

  Nikki squinted at Alice’s floppy body, her neck lolling to one side.

  ‘Is she running a temperature?’ She held a palm to Alice’s forehead.

  Lilly shook her head. Alice had wolfed down a bottle. She couldn’t be ill.

  ‘She’s fine.’

  Nikki took Alice from her with a doubtful frown. ‘If you’re sure.’

  Lilly smiled in what she hoped was a confident manner. This girl hadn’t yet had a child of her own. This was Lilly’s second and she knew when a baby was or wasn’t sick. She turned to leave, waiting for Alice to start howling. Instead she heard something worse. A bovine moan followed by the splash of liquid as it hit the tiles. Alice had thrown up over Nikki’s shoes.

  After the fresh winter wind outside, the smell of disinfectant was overpowering. Jack instinctively put his hand to his mouth.

  ‘You get used to it,’ the nurse clucked from the ward desk.

  ‘How?’ Jack choked.

  She waved her hand in the direction of an old lady being led by the hand to the bathroom, the flaps of her gown wafting open at the back, exposing her arse.

  ‘The alternatives are worse.’

  Jack shivered. He loathed the thought of growing old. Never thought he would. Occasionally he’d allowed himself the luxury of imagining the future with Lilly. He’d been an eejit to ever think it could happen.

  ‘How can I help you?’ asked the nurse.

  Jack flashed his warrant card and she smiled. ‘Copper eh?’

  ‘I got a call about Malaya Ebola.’

  The nurse’s face straightened. ‘Tragic isn’t it?’

  Jack nodded.

  ‘Something’s got to be done about these gangs,’ said the nurse. ‘They’re a law unto themselves.’

  ‘I’d like to speak to Malaya’s doctor if I may,’ said Jack.

  The nurse leaned towards the computer and tapped a few keys.

  ‘Mr Stephenson,’ she said. ‘But he’ll need to speak to the family first.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Jack.

  He took a seat next to the desk and waited. He tried not to think how he’d feel if it were Alice laying on that hospital bed.

  A moment later, the buzzer to the ward doors sounded. The nurse answered and released the lock.

  ‘It’s the grandmother,’ she said.

  Jack breathed deeply as Mrs Ebola puffed her way towards them, each footstep heavier than the last. She was wearing thick surgical tights and her swollen feet were squeezed into sandals. His ma had been the same, wearing her Scholls whatever the weather. There were prima ballerinas with fewer bunions.

  When the old lady recognized Jack, her eyes opened in alarm.

  ‘What has happened?’ She was out of breath.

  Jack jumped up. ‘Take a seat Mrs Ebola.’

  She flapped her arms against her sides, and began to groan. Jack tried to push her into a chair as her knees began to give way.

  ‘Oh my Lord. Oh my Jesus,’ she whimpered.

  Jack felt the full bulk of her collapse in his arms. He was terrified he wouldn’t be able to take her weight, that they’d fall to the ground together. He tensed both his arms and his back, holding her as best he could.

  ‘Why are we punished like this again?’ she moaned. ‘Why have you forsaken us?’

  Sweat prickled Jack’s back and just as he thought his knees would buckle the nurse sprang around the desk and wedged herself under Mrs Ebola’s left arm. She was surprisingly strong and Jack felt immediate relief. Together they managed to lower the desperate old lady into the chair where she slumped backwards, still praying aloud.


  Jack fell to his knees at Mrs Ebola’s feet and took one of her hands in his. It was huge and lined, yet smooth between the deep furrows.

  ‘It’s okay, Mrs Ebola, it’s okay.’

  He looked at the nurse and gestured to the phone on the desk. ‘Better get the doc.’

  She gave a single nod and hurried to make the call.

  Jack turned back to Mrs Ebola. ‘It’s going to be all right. Everything’s going to be all right.’

  Mrs Ebola looked at him as if he were completely mad. He noticed that her dark brown eyes shone with an intense brightness, like shards of broken mirror.

  ‘Malaya is dead and you think everything will be all right?’

  Jack frowned. Then in an instant he understood why Mrs Ebola had reacted as she had. She wasn’t having a heart attack, she had seen a copper and thought the worst. Mary, Mother of God, he had nearly killed the woman.

  ‘She’d not dead Mrs Ebola. Malaya’s not dead.’

  Mrs Ebola’s entire body went rigid. ‘Not dead?’

  Jack shook his head.

  ‘Are you sure?’ She blinked at him in incomprehension.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Then why are you here?’ she asked.

  ‘Because the hospital rang me to say Malaya had woken up.’

  The thumping on the door is so loud that Demi jumps out of bed.

  Shit. Her first thought is that Gran is back from the hospital. She’ll be furious when she finds out Demi hasn’t gone to school. Maybe Demi can say she felt sick. But will Gran believe that?

  And why is she knocking on the door? Why doesn’t she just let herself in?

  Demi’s heart pounds as the thumping continues. She can hear from the sound that whoever it is, is using the side of their fist and not their knuckles. Thump, thump, thump. Both the door and Demi’s heart.

  She rubs her bare arms in the cold and tries to think straight. Perhaps it is Gran and she’s lost her key. But why knock? She thinks Demi is out at school, so who could answer? And Gran would never hammer like that. She tells the girls off whenever they clatter down the corridor, or slam a cupboard door. ‘The world does not need to share our every move.’