BARBARA
Barbara visited Tommy every day after breakfast. She sat by his bed until lunch when she hobbled back to her room to eat her special soft food diet the highlight of which was the lunchtime bowl of jelly and ice cream.
His mother always arrived just after one o'clock, so Barbara went back for ten minutes every afternoon. That visit was just for appearance. She was polite, professional and left her heart at the door. The morning visits were different. Barbara would sit and hold Tommy's hand and talk to him. The first day she had seen him, she had vowed she would step back. The next morning she had been unable to get anyone to tell her how he was, so had wandered down the hall to his room without the nurse noticing, and stayed until they had come looking for her.
That first day, Tommy looked pale. His monitors were humming which she took as a good sign, but it was hard to see him lying there alone and helpless. Barbara sat by his bed and started talking to him. Without realising she took his hand in hers and gently massaged it as she spoke. It began by updating him on her operation, her ridiculous diet, her gratitude to his mother for insisting she had a private room on the same ward as him, and her annoyance at Hillier's planned afternoon visit to boost her morale. The Assistant Commissioner, she assured Tommy, was the last person who would be able to lift her spirits. Her blood pressure - yes; her spirits - certainly not.
Soon she was telling him everything. All her long-held secret fears, embarrassments, and feelings she had always wanted to reveal to him but had never had the courage, came tumbling out along with tears. Every day ended the same way, a gentle kiss on his forehead and her declaration of undying love.
Today was hard. In a few hours, she was being discharged. She held his hand tighter than ever before.
"Apparently I can go home today. My wound has healed. There's no infection, and so I can't impose on your mother's generosity any longer."
Barbara reached out and stroked his face. "I don't know if you can hear me or will remember. In a way, I hope you understand. I love you, Tommy. I think I always have. Well, since sometime during our first case anyway. What happened last week... well it made me feel closer to you than ever. But I have to be pragmatic. I know it wasn't real. I know you thought I was Helen. That's okay. I understand. I answered the way I thought you needed to hear from her. It's just that... it hurt. I wanted it to be me and to give you that answer. Now I'm struggling to go back to pretending everything is the same as it was. I need some time, some distance. So I've decided to go and visit my cousin in Scotland for a few weeks. I know that you will be angry when you wake up and I'm not here. I know you will need me. I feel bad about that, and I'm sorry, I really am Tommy, but I'm just not ready. I can't play that role right now. Every day with your mother, pretending we are just work colleagues, it kills me. Only that's all we are, isn't it? If only you really loved me..."
Barbara stood and pulled three tissues from the box mounted on the wall above the bedside cabinet. She blew her nose loudly then put them in the plastic waste bag hanging from the table that extended across the bed. She squirted hand sanitiser on her hands from the bottle on the cabinet and thoroughly rubbed so that she would not infect him.
"I'll be back. I can't leave you, and you know that. But right now, I can't be here." She kissed his cheek, leaving it wet with tears. "I love you, Tommy. Too much."
Barbara watched him for a few minutes then let out a sigh. She walked to the door and looked back. "See you later, Sir."
DOROTHY
With plans to meet an old friend for dinner, Dorothy Lynley decided to visit the hospital early. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Barbara holding Tommy's hand and caressing his face. She paused, trying to decide what to say.
"I love you, Tommy. I think I always have. Well, since sometime during our first case anyway. What happened last week... well it made me feel closer to you than ever."
Barbara's words were heartfelt and poignant. Her love for her son was obvious, and she wondered why she had never noticed before.
"I know you will need me. I feel bad about that, and I'm sorry, I really am Tommy, but I'm just not ready. I can't play that role right now. Every day with your mother, pretending we are just work colleagues, it kills me. Only that's all we are, isn't it? If only you really loved me..."
Lady Asherton prided herself on her self-control, but hearing Barbara's words made her choke up. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks and onto her silk blouse. Dorothy could offer no words of comfort because she had no idea how her son felt about Barbara. He had never given her any indication that his possessiveness and dependence on Barbara was anything more than friendship and respect. Could he love her? She quietly left the room. Barbara would be mortified to think she had been overheard.
TOMMY
Every cell in his body ached. Even his fingernails and hair hurt when he moved. The room was bright. Too bright. He turned his head away from it.
"Barbara?"
"Tommy? Oh, thank God. We've been so worried."
"Mother?"
A hand gripped his like a claw capturing prey. "Yes, Tommy. I'm here." He tried to struggle up. "No, stay there. You don't want to pull your stitches."
"Where's Barbara?"
"I don't know, Tommy."
He blinked, slowly adjusting to the light. It made no sense. Barbara had been visiting him, holding his hand, talking to him. The conversations were sketchy, like a dream that was vivid but slipped away once you woke. But she had been there, he was certain of that. "How can you not know? She's been sitting with me."
"You knew she was here?"
"Yes. It's foggy, but she used to sit with me. So why isn't she here?"
"Barbara was wounded too. I paid for her to be in a room here. She was discharged yesterday. She said she was going away for a while. To a cousin in Scotland."
"Yesterday? How long have I been here?"
"Just over a week. You were critically injured. They put you into an induced coma. They only stopped those drugs a few hours ago."
"And Barbara left me?" It made no sense. "But she's going to marry me."
"Marry you?"
"I asked her. She said yes."
"When?"
"After I was stabbed."
His mother patted his hand. "Tommy, you have to focus on getting better. The doctors say you are doing well. Your liver was damaged, but it is healing nicely. Barbara saved your life. She needs time to recover. She will be 's your friend, Tommy. Your partner."
He pulled away. "I want to see Barbara."
"I don't know where she is."
"Rubbish. There is no way Barbara would leave without giving you a way to contact her. I know how she thinks."
"She was wounded too. She needs time to sort through her own issues."
"We both have things to sort out. Together."
His mother pulled something from his bedside cabinet drawer. "She left this for you. I'll find the doctor and tell him you're awake."
DOROTHY
"Mother?"
Oh, thank you, God! Dorothy took her son's hand and squeezed it hard. "Yes, Tommy. I'm here."
Tommy began to pull at the monitor cords. "No, stay there. You don't want to pull your stitches."
"Where's Barbara?"
"I don't know, Tommy."
Watching her son's confusion was painful. "How can you not know? She's been sitting with me."
Dorothy was astounded. "You knew she was here?"
"Yes. It's foggy, but she used to sit with me. So why isn't she here?"
She paused as she decided how much to tell him. If she told him everything she knew, Barbara would feel betrayed and never trust her. And Tommy, well he was just as likely to try to walk across Mull in search of her. Dorothy decided on the truth but keeping it simple.
"Barbara was wounded too," she told him. "I paid for her to be in a room here. She was discharged yesterday. She said she was going away for a while. To a cousin in Scotland."
"Yesterday? How long have I been here?"
"Just over a week. You were critically injured. They put you into an induced coma. They only stopped those drugs a few hours ago."
"And Barbara left me? But she's going to marry me."
"Marry you?" No wonder the poor girl was confused. Dorothy remembered Barbara saying Tommy had confused her with Helen. It seemed Tommy had known exactly who it was after all.
"I asked her. She said yes."
She had to be sure. "When?"
"After I was stabbed."
So it was true. Poor Barbara. Poor Tommy. How did her son always manage to make such a mess of his love life? She took his hand and stroked it. "Tommy, you have to focus on getting better. The doctors say you are doing well. Your liver was damaged, but it is healing nicely. Barbara saved your life. She needs time to recover. She will be back."
He pulled away. "I want to see Barbara."
"I don't know where she is."
"Rubbish. There is no way Barbara would leave without giving you a way to contact her. I know how she thinks."
"She was wounded too. She needs time to sort through her own issues."
"We both have things to sort out. Together."
Dorothy fetched the letter Barbara had left for him from the drawer bedside his bed. She hoped it did not say anything that might ruin there future. "She left this for you." Dorothy could not be there when he read it. "I'll find the doctor and tell him you're awake."
She scurried from the room and pulled her phone from her bag. She quickly found the number. "Ah, Sir David. I thought I would let you know Tommy has woken up and he seems fine. I was wondering; I don't suppose Barbara Havers left details of where she was going in Scotland with you? I only have her mobile number..."
BARBARA'S LETTER
Dear Sir,
I am glad you are reading this because it means you are out of the coma and getting better. That is fantastic news, and everyone will be pleased. Your poor mother has been worried sick.
You will probably expect me to be there to visit. The incident brought back traumatic memories, so I hope you will understand that I need some time away from London. I am going to see my cousin on the Isle of Mull and think about my future. Even if they would allow me, I am not sure I want to return to the Met, especially if, as I suspect, you will be unable to return.
Please do not try to find me. I promise I will be back. I just need a little solitude.
Kindest regards,
Havers
TOMMY
He re-read the letter four times. Each time it sounded more impersonal, yet between the lines, all Tommy read was pain. Barbara needed him for her recovery more than he needed her. He had to find a way to get to Scotland, regardless of whether she wanted him there or not.