Chapter Six

The clinical smell of the hospital room was starting to freak me out. I'd spent too many weeks in a hospital bed not long enough ago.

I was sitting in a squeaky plastic chair by Gently's bed; stinking, aching, worrying. I had a bag at my feet filled with clean clothes for me and a few other items for Gently brought by Taylor when he had come to pick up Rachel. One of the nurses had brought me a paper cup full of sweetened tea, but it was on the bedside table, all heat fled long ago.

Rubbing my eyes, I leant forward in the chair. Despite the reassurances of the doctors, I still wasn't convinced that Gently was going to recover. He didn't look like he was going to recover; he was smothered in blankets and his heartbeat was still very slow. Two IV lines ran across the bed to a drip filled with some kind of liquid. His hand was cold to the touch and matched the paleness of the sheets. He hadn't woken up yet.

Gently had been like this since the paramedics had laid him down on the stretcher. I'd wanted to ride to the hospital with him, but I'd been taken aside, forced under a red blanket and only then allowed to jump into the second ambulance. That had nearly been a disaster when they'd made to put Raleigh in with me. I'd been dragged out and then shoved into Rachel's car instead along with one of the paramedics, a man with an impressive moustache. He had repeatedly told me that I was in shock and I should lie down. I'd ignored him.

I shook my head and turned back to my vigil, watching my unconscious boss. They'd cleaned most of the blood off him, but there were remaining brown-red flecks in his hair. They were stark against the white and I suddenly found myself remembering our first meeting up in the hills. He'd had dark in his hair in those days, and I'd been nothing but a stupid kid with a new car. Gently had seen right through me, even back then.

"Jesus, Guv. I thought it was bad being the one in the bed." I patted down my pockets for a cigarette, giving up in disgust. "You bloody well gotta wake up soon, Guv." I forced a nervous laugh, "'m losin' all the feeling in my arse."

He didn't answer.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I'm sorry that I didn't believe you when you said that Raleigh would run. I'm sorry that I went in without back-up. I'm sorry for leaving you alone with the cars." I took a shuddering breath and then forced my voice to be steady, "But I'm not sorry that Rachel smashed him in the head. I'm only sorry that he might not have to answer for what he did to you."

Licking my lips nervously, even though I knew I was only talking to an empty room, I dug in the bag and brought out three things. "I brought you something, guv."

The picture of Isabella Gently I placed on the bedside table so it would be the first thing that Gently saw. The wedding ring and lighter I put next to it. Isabella seemed to smile at me and I knew that I'd done something right.

I sat there until dawn and Rachel came to take me home.

"John!" The blinding grin that I got when I walked through the door was the best thing in a week.

"'Ello, Guv." I plonked down a cardboard box filled with well-wishing cards and slid into the seat next to the bed. He was looking so much more alive, despite the bandages around his chest and arm. "Did they stitch up your head?"

Gently nodded.

"That's good. I didn't think you could risk losing any more brain cells." No sooner had the words left my mouth that I regretted them.

But Gently laughed. He reached over to the table to grab a mug of tea. As he drank, I saw that he was wearing his wedding ring.

The little glow inside me intensified.

"So," Gently said too casually, "How's Rachel?"

"She's a little shook up," I ran a hand through my hair. "Understandably, of course."

I knew what was coming.

"What about Raleigh?" He very carefully didn't look at me.

I very carefully didn't look at him. "He's… he's in a coma," I said, "Rachel hit him pretty hard with her truncheon and – well, he deserved it, didn't 'e, the bastard – and the doctors don't know if he's going to come 'round or whether he's gonna live, but…"

Gently nodded slowly and sipped the tea. "Is he here?"

God, his voice was so casual. As he placed the mug back on the table, I saw his hands shake.

"Yeah. Like I said, 'e's in a coma." So he can't touch you, I thought, I promise that he'll never get near you again… not even in court.

"I understand what that means, John." Gently was holding himself very still and I tried to meet his gaze. I wanted to ask if he did. Did he really understand that it meant that Raleigh wasn't going to hurt him?

Instead, I asked, "When are you gettin' out of here, then?"

He frowned up at the ceiling, thinking for a moment. "The day after tomorrow. Saturday."

"Great. I'll pick you up, then. What time?"

He stared at me. "Isn't it your weekend with Leigh-Anne?" he asked.

Shit. It was. "Yeah," I said, "But she won't mind, as long as we stop for ice-cream."

Gently laughed at that, but the moment was over quickly. Seriously, he said, "You should just spend the day with your daughter, John. I'm sure I can make my own way home."

"It's no trouble," I said hastily.

Gently nodded in agreement, but I saw the rapid blinking of someone struggling to stay awake. He was just too tired to argue. I said goodbye and then left the room.

When I snuck in to retrieve the empty mug of tea for the nurse less than five minutes later, he was fast asleep.