All Free Novel
Chapter 67
Chapter 67
I reach out, hold his wrist. “She wasn’t hurt? Really not hurt?”
Michael gazes down at my hand. He could break away with a shrug. I don’t have the strength of a
kitten. But, “No. You took the single shot Corby managed to fire before I took him down and the police
took him out. But when you went down, Charlotte….” He chews his words….
“Yes? Charlotte what?”
“She just collapsed, screaming. I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s normally so…. self-contained, so
competent at whatever she decides to do….” He huffs…. “…. Regardless of whether anyone else might
like it or not. But when she thought you’d been killed she simply came apart at the seams.”
*****
When the nurse comes to check my thigh and change the dressing, I prop myself up on elbows, trying
to see the damage.
Fuck!
The entrance wound itself is stitched closed, but the entirety of my thigh is dark with brutal bruising in a
sickly rainbow of black, purple, green and yellow.
“You don’t want to look too long at that Mr Alexanders,” comments the nurse. “It’ll put you off your
dinner.”
I flop back, turbulent inside.
How badly wounded was I?
“Enough that it was touch and go you coming back to us.” says the nurse. And I realise I spoke aloud.
She props me with pillows, enabling me to sit up. Then she sets me up with a drip and a syringe. “If you
become uncomfortable,” she says, “just give the syringe a slight push and it will deliver an extra flush of
painkiller.”
“James! It’s good to see you with us again.” Richard’s smile is broad and bright. And flatteringly, so is
Beth’s.
“Hello, James.” She leans in and kisses me on the cheek. “For a while there, we thought….” And she
simply cuts herself short, holding up a bag. “We brought more of Ross’ cooking for you.
“Great,” says Michael, immediately standing, his eye passing over Charlotte. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.
She’s lost weight….
And although she is smiling brightly now, dark rings under her eyes testify to lack of sleep.
He and Beth between them divvy up chicken and veggies for all, the portion he puts onto Charlotte’s
plate being noticeably larger than the others.
Beth and Richard eat a little, just to be sociable I think, but Charlotte, smiling happily, shovels hers
down in time-honoured fashion. The moment her plate’s empty, Michael scoops more on for her.
When her eye is turned away from me, I give the syringe a squeeze, and after a minute or so, the
growing ache in my thigh ebbs enough that the pain stops doing my thinking for me and I can keep my
attention on the people around me.
If it weren’t so bloody painful, I would recommend getting yourself shot for anyone who enjoys being
the centre of attention.
Michael says little, mainly I think, recouping from the strain of being Charlotte’s support over the last
few days. He’s doing his best to be polite and alert but keeps drifting off into cat-naps, which everyone
pretends not to notice.
And ego aside, it’s good to have people around me as the chatter, consequential or otherwise, keeps
my mind off my injury. Painkillers or not, it is a mere soreness so long as I remain quite still, but flares
and burns whenever I move.
For now, I’m happy enough where I am.
And what happens next?
“So where do we work from now, as a base?” I ask Richard. “With the old offices burned out. What has
actually been lost?”
He shrugs it off….
If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs….
“Oh, it’s by no means a disaster,” he says. “All the information that mattered was stored on the cloud
anyway. And, as you know, it was always the plan that we would move to the new headquarters as part
of the City Project. I’ve simply brought forward that phase of the works. The offices are going up as we
speak. We should be in there within three months.”
Is it really that simple?
Or is he just stopping me from worrying?
“And until then?”
“Until then, I’ve rented out one of the old warehouse blocks down by the docks. It’s not ideal, but it will
do as a temporary fix….”
Just like that, eh….
But I’m not in a position to argue.
*****
Five Years Ago - Chad
Lucan Vincenzo, partner, regards the young man seated in his office. “Mr Bennett. This is highly
irregular. You understand that I represent your estranged wife. I cannot discuss her personal matters
with you.”
Chad shuffles in his seat. “No, of course you can’t, but I was hoping you could pass a message to
Jenny next time you see her?”
The lawyer sits back in his seat, fingers steepled. “I don’t see any difficulty with that. What is your
message?” He takes a jotter and a pencil from a drawer.
“Back home… Her old home, at the farm,” begins Chad, “a police officer came looking for her.”
Expressionlessly, the lawyer presses fingers against his lips. “At least he claimed to be a police officer.
He said that Jenny was involved in swindling people….”
Mr Vincenzo’s voice is level. “You don’t believe that?”
“You’ve met her. Would you believe it?” When Mr Vincenzo does not reply, Chad continues, “He made
all sorts of claims about her. Things that…. Well, she’s just not the sort. They can’t be true. But he
convinced my parents. When I met him myself…. there…. there was something about him.”
Still, the lawyer remains silent.
Chad pulls something from a pocket, then passes it across the desk. “He gave this to my parents. He
told them to contact him directly. Not to go through any other channels. Perhaps you could check if he
is a real policeman?” Chad leans forward, hands on the desk. “I think he might come to see you. My
parents gave him your contact details.”
Mr Vincenzo considers the card in his hand. “It is, of course, a criminal offence to impersonate a police
officer. Should I encounter the individual concerned, I will take appropriate action.” He thinks for a
moment then, “Mr Bennett, did your estranged wife have any reason to genuinely fear the police?”
Chad stares at his hands….
What to say…?
He’s a lawyer….
But he’s representing her….
“I’m…. not sure. There was always something she was afraid of. Something she said she’d done. But
she never told me what it was, and when we saw the news about Blessingmoors….”
Mr Vincenzo gives him a sharp look. “She came from Blessingmoors?”
“Yes. She never outright told me that, but when I see what’s happening and what I know about her, I’m
sure of it.”
“Would she have told anyone else?”
“Mrs Collier should know. She fostered her. And she might have spoken to Mr Kalkowski.”
“Mr Kalkowski?”
“Her old teacher. She really loves that old man, and trusts him too. He was the one that persuaded her
to try for University.” He sits forward. “Sir, Mr Kalkowski is very old. He looks ill. If…. When… you see
Jenny, please tell her that…. Tell her that if she is going to write to him, or visit him, I think she needs to
make it soon.”
The lawyer considers the young man before him, earnest, apparently sincere. “Mr Bennett, what is the
nature of your continued interest in your estranged wife?”
“Oh, God.” Chad swipes a hand through his hair. “It was my fault. It was all my fault. I just want to put
things right for her. To see that Jenny has a fair chance at her new life.” He looks the lawyer in the face.
“Honestly, that’s all I want.”
Mr Vincenzo measures what he sees before him…. a handsome boy, beautiful even. Graceful, well-
spoken…. with what the young woman he represents has already told him. He reaches a decision. “I’ll
deliver your message for you of course when I see her again. But I am not sure when that will be. The
matter of your divorce is now settled.”
*****