Chapter Eight – Let it go
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It was after lunch the next day when PC Bellamy parked the police car outside the entrance of Ashfordly General Hospital. He switched off the engine and then yawned, rubbing his forehead, before reaching over to the passenger side to retrieve his helmet.
He'd totally wasted almost a whole night totally wasted in the corridor outside the car smuggler's room, and when Alf had finally relieved him, he'd gotten no sleep at all. He felt the beginnings of a headache as he stepped into the hospital and started to walk briskly towards the ward in which they were keeping the delivery man.
Sgt Blaketon was on the warpath and demanded that someone was going to pay for the accident so Phil had quickly slipped out of the station to avoid any further outbursts coming from his superior and volunteered to talk to the delivery driver once again. Phil almost felt sorry for the guy because it wasn't really his fault either. It was a tricky business this accident.
A nurse looked up from the counter as he neared. "Can I help you constable?" she asked politely.
"Yes, I need a word with Mr. Brad Walker," he said.
Within a minute he was standing next to the man's bed.
Walker turned to look at him and Bellamy couldn't help but grimace at the bruised and battered side of his face.
"It doesn't hurt much," he assured him.
"Mr. Walker, I'm sorry to disturb you but I need to go over the facts again," Phil began apologetically.
The delivery man pursed his lips into a thin line of displeasure but said nothing, he just nodded distractedly.
"Could you start from the beginning, please," Phil said softly.
"I was running late so I stepped on the accelerator to catch up. There was no one on the road; everything was going smoothly, until that bicyclist arrived. He was drunk…" Brad Walker began.
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Nick Rowan shifted slightly in his hospital bed. His injuries still hurt, but he was feeling much better. He hated being in hospitals as a patient, and especially being confined to a hospital bed. He was bored out of his mind staring at the walls, listening to the complaints of the man in the next bed and the constant chattering of the nurses. He sighed in frustration and leaned over to the night stand to get his hands on the newspaper.
A soft knock at the end of his bed caused him to turn his head in that direction.
"Hi, Nick," Phil said happily.
A smile broke across Rowan's face. "Hi, Phil. Have you come to take me away from this boring place?" he asked.
The smile disappeared from his colleague's face as he walked over to sit down in the visitor chair. "Nice try, Nick, but you know I can't," he replied kindly.
Nick made a face. "Too bad," he returned dryly.
"I've been here half the night guarding the driver of the Jaguar," Phil said sourly.
"Oh, you've found him then?" Nick asked curiously, even though Kate had told him earlier.
"Yeah," Phil chuckled sarcastically. "After hours of searching the moors he just turned up right in front of me."
"Sarge is happy then?" Nick said grinning at the annoyance in Phil's voice.
"He got a call from York; apparently the Jaguar had been reported missing. Turns out our mystery driver is running a little illegal business in Whitby, involving car thefts," Phil finished dryly. "And now Blaketon's afraid the driver's going to sneak out of the hospital right under our noses," he added.
Nick raised one eyebrow at the statement but said nothing.
Phil sighed, looking nervous and remorseful all of a sudden. "Look, Nick, about the accident," he began seriously.
Nick frowned. "What about it?" he questioned, having a feeling where the conversation was going.
"I'm sorry. If I'd paid more attention to my work you wouldn't have to be here," he said.
"Stop it," Nick said darkly. "I don't want to hear it, Phil. No one could have prevented what happened, not you, not anyone," he reasoned.
Phil looked at his hands but Nick waited until his friend looked up and then locked eyes with him. "What were you supposed to have done?" Nick asked angrily. "Forced him off the road?"
His colleague made a face.
"Let it go, Phil. I'm not blaming you. No one should be blaming you," Nick said softly and a smile once again broke across his face. "Of course, if you'd wanted to make things easier, you could have cuffed the idiot to the steering wheel, would have saved you a lot of trouble," he added teasingly.
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At the Aidensfield Arms, Gordon Lee nodded soberly at Gina as she walked over with his third pint of beer. The barmaid glanced at the gloomy trio at the table. "You're a cheerful bunch, aren't you," Gina said cheekily.
Lee stared after her as she returned to the bar and then vanished into the kitchen. "Did you find that old fool, Fowley?" he muttered darkly to his friend, who was sitting next to him.
"He wasn't home last night," he replied succinctly.
"Who does he think he is?" Lee questioned angrily. "He killed people, milling around with his stupid bike. He could have killed both my wife and my son."
George Ward looked up as the chatter suddenly died out. He noted unhappily that Pat Fowley had just appeared on his doorstep. "Here comes trouble," he muttered under his breath just as Gina came back from the kitchen.
"Is that him?" she questioned curiously.
"I think you better call the police," George returned, indirectly answering her.
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"Finally," Nick exclaimed as Kate walked up to his bed.
He was sitting on the bedside, fully clothed, waiting for her to take him home.
Kate looked at him amusedly as she leaned in to give him a kiss. "I'm sorry, love, I got held up," she said apologetically.
He narrowed his eyes and fixed her with a suspicious glance. "Shall we leave then?" he asked and moved to stand.
Kate instantly gripped his arm, hindering him. "Not so fast," she cautioned.
"Kate," Nick whined. "I've been waiting for you for ages. I'm done here, signed the papers and collected my medication," he filled in.
She reached up to touch his forehead and then traced his cheek and jawline with her fingers. "I just want to make sure you're all right," she said softly.
"I'm fine, Kate," he reassured. "You know what makes me feel even better?"
She raised one eyebrow slightly as he looked at her enigmatically. "To get away from here," he finished.
Kate's smile widened as she took his arm into hers. "Don't think for a minute that you'll be allowed to do anything strenuous, Nick Rowan. I want you in bed," she admonished.
"Do you?" he returned playfully.
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"You bastard!" Gordon Lee shouted furiously as he grabbed Pat Fowley by the collar.
Claude Greengrass took the statement as his token to leave, setting his empty pint down carefully on the counter and easing off the chair.
"Where are you going, Claude?" George asked.
"Oh, I don't know, this might get ugly," he said as he excused himself.
Half the guests of the pub where now standing up and involved in the fight that originated between Pat Fowley and Gordon Lee.
"Oi!" Gina shouted and ducked behind the counter as a pint came flying her way.
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"What's going on at the pub?" Nick asked suspiciously as they neared, seeing both Dr. Ferrenby's car the police car just outside.
Kate slowed the car and pulled up. "I don't know, Alex's car is here," she said.
Without a word Nick slowly got out of the car as Bellamy came through the door with a battered farmer in handcuffs.
"Phil?" he questioned. "What' going on?"
"This one decided to take the law into his own hands for a while," Phil offered, his voice slightly irritated.
Kate stared at the man, recognising him as Gordon Lee, Sara Lee's husband. "She was afraid something like this would happen," she mumbled.
"Who?" Nick asked in confusion as he turned to face his wife.
"Sara Lee," Kate explained. "I went to see her and her son yesterday and she feared her husband would try and hurt Fowley."
"Phil, is Pat Fowley around?" Nick asked.
His colleague unceremoniously slammed door of the police car shut behind the farmer and headed back towards the pub. "In there," Phil confirmed. "Dr. Ferrenby is patching him up as we speak."
Kate angrily walked back toward the car to retrieve her medical bag. "I better help him out," she said.
"Is it bad?" Nick asked as he followed Phil into the pub.
"Well, see for yourself," he replied.
The furniture was wrecked, a large painting hung loosely on the wall and several broken glasses lay on the floor. Gina sat on her knees in the middle of the chaos, trying to clean up some of the mess, and George was keeping an eye of two remorseful farmers sitting next to a broken table, each of them sporting a collection of bruises. Nick glanced around as he heard a low moan and saw Alex Ferrenby trying to clean a rather nasty looking wound on Pat Fowley's forehead.
"Sit still," the old doctor said firmly as his patient squirmed.
"Phil, do you need some help?" Nick asked, assessing the situation.
"Absolutely out of question!" Kate admonished sternly as she walked past them, having heard the last bit of the conversation.
"Alex, have you had time to look at these two?" Nick asked, not taking notice of his wife.
The old doctor looked up in surprise at the sound of Nick's voice. "In a moment," he replied.
Kate walked up to Alex, locking eyes with him and the look on her face told him everything, she was furious. "I'll do that," she volunteered to her colleague. "The sooner we get out of here the better," she added angrily, glaring at her husband.
"Come on, Kate," Nick returned huffily, returning the glare.
Not wanting to be on the wrong side of the doctor's fury, Phil patted Nick on the shoulder. "I'll handle it, don't worry," he said.
"How are you going to transport both Gordon Lee and Pat Fowley to the station on your own?" he questioned.
"Don't you worry about that, Nick, go home and get some rest," his colleague returned kindly.
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8/9
To be continued.
There you go, only one chapter left.
