Author's note:
Elizabeth George and the BBC own these characters - I just borrow them from time to time. My version is always based on the BBC characters and storylines.
This may be my last story for a while due to work. I have been pleased by the reviews of my other stories and hope you like this one too. I was tired of the women always being injured - this time Lynley has some physical as well as emotional pain.
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"Stop fussing Havers!" Thomas Lynley snapped at his Sergeant, Barbara Havers. He was tired; he was in pain and he was angry. He knew he should not have checked himself out of the hospital but he just could not bear to be there. It reminded him too much of past traumas.
She rolled her eyes but continued to help him out of the cab. It was taking all her strength not to shout at him to shut up. Only four hours earlier, as she had rushed to the hospital in response to their call, she had been terrified that he might be badly hurt, now she wanted to hurt him. Arrogant pain in the posterior!
"Where are your house keys?" she asked him as they approached his door.
"Trouser pocket, left side," he replied tersely. Just get me inside.
His arm was bandaged so Barbara knew she would have to retrieve them. Oh God. How am I going to do this? Barbara blushed but thankfully at this early hour no one would see. She had never considered having to put her hands anywhere near his trousers. Well I have to get him in the house. So she took a breath and reached into his pocket. Thankfully the key ring was easy to find and she withdrew her hand quickly. Not so bad. She fumbled with the lock and could feel his eyes boring into her. I'm doin' my best – don't say a word!
Once the door was open he stormed in and sat heavily on his sofa. "A whiskey would be good," he ordered. He knew he was being rude and that he would have to make it up to Barbara later but he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. Anger worked well for that; it was something they could both manage.
"No."
"What do you mean 'no' Havers? This is my house and I want a drink." Now the anger was genuine and intense. How dare she?
"No. The doctor said not to mix alcohol with those painkillers they gave you, so no, I am not getting you a drink." You insufferable, thankless so and so.
He knew she was right but he tried another tack – puppy dog eyes. "Please Barbara."
"No!"
"So I am almost killed tonight and now you deny me the simply pleasure of a good single malt."
"Yes, I am. I'll make you a cocoa if you like." He screwed his nose up but she could tell his mood was softening ever so slightly. He sighed, resigned to his fate. It was probably better she did not give him any right now; he would have trouble stopping and all the emotion of the last few hours would come to the surface. Still he would like that drink.
"So what actually happened?" Barbara was first and foremost a policewoman and she needed answers to what had happened to her boss. The report at the hospital had been very sketchy. A dark car had rammed Lynley's car. He had lost control and hit a tree. The ambulance had rushed him to St Thomas' Hospital about 11 pm. The nurse had contacted her about 11:15 pm and she had reached the hospital as quickly as she could, fearing the worst. She had been so relieved to discover his injuries, although serious in her view, were so much less than they could have been.
"I don't remember much... I was driving and then this dark car hit the rear of the Bristol. I had nowhere to go and… I think I hit something." He sounded vague. She did not believe that was all he knew but sensed now was not the time to press him.
"A tree," she told him flatly, "You were lucky you weren't hurt badly."
"Yes I suppose a fractured shoulder blade, a cracked collarbone, three broken ribs, seven stitches in my head and two sprained fingers are not all that serious!"
Barbara scrutinised him now. His shoulder, head knock and collarbone damage was on the left side and he was trussed up in a sling in a way that reminded her of a Christmas turkey. The sprained fingers were on his right hand making him unable to effectively use either arm for the next day or so. She was not sure which side his ribs were on but she would need to remember to be careful if she had to move him.
"Well it beats a broken skull. And besides if you are hurt so badly why did you discharge yourself, against doctor's orders?"
"I don't need to be in that place to get better. I'll hire a nurse to look after me."
"Yes and of course Rent-A-Nurse is open twenty-four seven just waiting for your call." Barbara was getting a bit weary of his petulance.
"Hardly, you can look after me tonight and I'll get someone tomorrow."
"Oh can I, your Lordship? What makes you think I want to?" He may be sick but he was really starting to annoy her. He looked up and seemed hurt. "Anyway your mother will be down tomorrow so she can look after you."
"No, Havers. You rang her, why?" Tommy sounded alarmed.
"Well she is your next of kin; I thought she needed to know. I was surprised that the hospital hadn't rung her but they said my number is listed in your phone as your emergency contact."
"Well that is for a reason Havers." His voice was cold. She knew his relationship with his mother was strained but surely at a time like this he would want her near.
"Blood's thicker than water Sir. You need her. I told her not to drive down in the dark. She will leave first thing in the morning."
"No, no I don't need her. A man dying of thirst in the desert needs a cup of water more than he needs a cup of blood." He did not need his mother; he needed Barbara. She was here helping him and yet he was trying his hardest to make her walk out but could not help himself. "Anyway I'm your emergency contact." He was actually pouting.
Barbara had never told him but he had guessed correctly which angered her even more. "That's totally different Sir, I don't have any family. You're the only person who might be even vaguely interested whether I'm alive or dead." She looked so vulnerable and alone that Tommy felt both chastened and sad. He had not meant to hurt her.
"I do, very much Havers." She knew from his tone that he meant it. "And I thought you might feel the same way." She could tell he was sorry.
"Yes. I am glad I was told but I'm still not your family."
"Well you feel like family to me."
Barbara was both flattered and confused. What the hell does that mean? They had been both partners and friends for years and had a bond that was hard to describe, but she had never thought he considered her family. She was touched but also fleetingly sad that it confirmed one thing, he had no romantic inclinations towards her. Still a big brother, little sister sort of thing felt warm and fuzzy. She could live with that. She smiled and simply said, "Thank you Sir. That's nice to know."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither sure what to say. Their partnership was important to both of them. They were loyal to each above all else, almost to the exclusion of others, but they had never really talked about what they meant to each other. They had just taken it for granted and not over analysed it. Barbara was starting to feel awkward the way he was looking at her. "Well I think you should rest Sir, let's get you up to bed."
This conversation had forced Tommy to think. He reflected on something that had happened just before he hit the tree. He was not sure what it meant but he needed to work it out and soon. But now he needed to distract them both and seized opportunity to lighten the mood. "Well that's an offer I never thought I would get from you Sergeant." She glared at him and was tempted to snap back but instead muttered something that he could not understand as she helped him off the couch.
They went upstairs and it was only then that Barbara realised that the next few minutes would be very awkward. He sat on the edge of his bed and she knelt down and undid his shoes and slipped off his socks. How is he going to be able to manage his trousers? Oh god, I don't believe this is really happening. Tommy sensed her embarrassment and said, "It is ok I can sleep in my trousers."
"No, I think you should take them off Sir. If you need the bathroom later you won't be able to manage your fly or belt with two bad hands."
"You're right; thank you Havers. I know this is tricky for both of us."
"No problem Sir, it goes with the job." What? Since when did this go with the job?
Tommy smiled and stood while Barbara undid his belt and unzipped his trousers. She closed her eyes while she gently tugged them down to allow him to step out of them. At least he was a boxer man. It was only when she went to remove his coat that was hanging over his shoulders that she realised that he had no shirt on. What she had thought was his shirt was in fact the bandages stretched around his torso to protect his ribs. The hospital must have cut the shirt off to examine him. She was relieved. It would have been hard to remove it with him all tethered up in his sling. He should have stayed in the hospital, stupid man.
"Ok Sir, let's get you comfortable." He moved into his bed and sat. She helped him lie back and arranged the pillows under his head and shoulders. He would have to half sit for the next few days rather than lie flat. "Is that ok?"
"Yes, thanks Barbara."
"Ok, well I'll just be downstairs. Just yell if you need me Sir."
"Barbara, can you stay with me?"
"Sir?"
"I just don't want to be alone. Will you stay here … please?" He extended his hand towards her. He looked so alone that she felt guilty for having been angry at him earlier. She was very grateful that he was alive. She remembered how she had felt her knees buckle when she had taken the hospital's call. She would be devastated if anything happened to him.
She started to reach out and was about to grab his hand in reassurance when she realised he had bruised fingers. So she sat on the side of the bed and simply said, "Yes, of course. Try to get some sleep Sir."
"I saw the tree and thought that was the answer Barbara. I think I steered towards it." She did not know what to say. What is he actually saying? "I didn't want to go on with all the nightmares and guilt. It would have been a way out. Then at the last minute I stopped and tried to steer away."
So he was saying that. "What made you stop?" She immediately regretted asking that was too personal.
"You."
"Me?"
"I couldn't do it to you Barbara. I didn't know why at the time but I have been thinking about it since," he said softly, his voice faltering, "It would be unfair. You would soon have worked it out and either torn yourself apart with guilt wondering what you should have done to stop it. Or you would have pursued whoever hit me and punished them with terrifying ferocity that they would not have deserved; I know I would have done that if it had been you. Neither option would be fair, so I couldn't do it. I couldn't do that to you. I hadn't set out to kill myself; I didn't know I felt that way until the opportunity arose."
Barbara moved further onto the bed. She really did not know what to say. He had been morose and guilty about Helen before but he had never seemed suicidal. She felt she needed to be closer to him. "Oh Sir, I had no idea you were still in so much pain."
"It's ok Barbara. I don't expect you to do anything. I just wanted to tell someone, to tell you; and to thank you for being there to pull me back."
With that his tears began to flow. She wanted to hold him close and protect him but negotiating around his wounds was hard. She found herself kneeling up next to his pillows cradling his head as his tears turned to sobs and then to howls. All the annoyance she had felt earlier in the evening turned to guilt. He had needed her and she had resented it. How could I even think of turning my back on Tommy? She kept holding him until he at last fell asleep.
