"So this man, he told you your husband had died?"
Jill nodded, fighting back the tears the words had evoked. After allow Jill time to compose herself, Gordon had phoned the police. They were gathered in the living room. PCs Younger sat upon the settee next to her, PC Bellamy on the chair to the left, and Gordon sat next to her.
"What was the constable's name?" PC Bellamy asked her gently.
"I don't know, I can't remember." She shook her head, racking her brains, trying to think of something, but all she could remember were the words, repeating themselves again and again, which had brought everything crashing down around her. "I don't know, sorry. I can't remember, I'm sorry."
"Alright." PC Bellamy said soothingly. "It was likely he used a false name anyway. Can you give us description of his appearance, as detailed as you can."
She nodded, lowering her head and closing her eyes, trying desperately to conjure up the image of him standing on her doorstep. "He wasn't too tall, maybe about the same height as Gordon, I think... He had dark hair, black maybe, or brown. Or... it could have been blond." She paused, her voice on the edge of breaking as irritation at herself built up. Each colour she placed to the figure, each description could have been equally as plausible as the next, and all could have been equally as false. The fingers of her left hand clenched into a fist, the nails biting into the soft flesh of her palm, punishing herself for her inability to remember. Her right hand continuously raked over her leg, pain created even through the material of her trousers. Gordon covered it with his own, stilling its movements, his thumb stroking the back of her wrist, trying to impart some comfort.
"It's okay." PC Bellamy finally said, seemingly realising he wasn't to get any information from her. "Can you think of anyone who might want to do this? Anyone with a grudge? Anyone you may have upset."
She shook her head, sagging against Gordon, the situation catching up with her. The thought that anyone might want to do such a thing terrifying. And if they did that, they could easily do something else, something worse- even more terrifying.
"Doctor Ormerod?"
Gordon too shook his head.
"Okay well we'll be on our way. We'll speak to your neighbours; they might have seen something."
She nodded, whispering her thanks, though she couldn't be sure they heard it.
"If you see anything suspicious, or think of anything at all, don't hesitate to contact us. We'll see ourselves out."
As soon as the front door closed, signalling the departure of the constables, Gordon slid his arms around Jill, encasing her protectively against him. She sought shelter in his embrace, holding him tight, not wanting to let go.
She didn't divulge her fear to him, the idea still too new, she hadn't even had time to think about it properly. All she did know was there was someone out there who had wanted to hurt her, someone who might try something else, something that might actually shatter her world permanently.
He continued to hold her for a while, until a rumbling could be heard. She patted his stomach and tipped her head back to look at him. "Hungry?" She questioned.
"Yes." He admitted. "What about you? Have you had anything to eat today?"
She shook her head, easing herself off him as he made to get up. "I didn't really think."
"I'll make us something. Anything you particularly fancy?"
"Not really..." She paused, watching him for a moment then lowering her eyes. "Would you like some help?"
"Sure." He replied, holding out his hand, which she immediately took. It wasn't strictly necessary, but he could tell she was still shaken up by what had happened, and needed to be near him. He knew he'd feel the same if the roles had been reversed. He shuddered, wondering how he'd have reacted; it didn't bear thinking about. As they passed through the hallway and into the kitchen, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, relieved to see a tiny smile when he glanced back at her.
They prepared and ate the food in silence, but Jill stuck close to him throughout. She was very quiet, he observed, watching her with concern as she picked at her food. It was more than just quiet though, she appeared withdrawn, her posture deflated, her eyes dull. Her face still bore the marks of her hours of crying; red skin framing her eyes, her cheeks still stained with tears. She was still just shaken, he reasoned, she'd be fine with time.
She leant forward and placed her plate upon the coffee table, the sandwich only half eaten. He placed his empty plate next to it, deciding to leave hers there in case she felt hungry later. He picked up Jill's medical journal, lying open in the middle of an article he guessed she'd been reading. He chose a book for himself then settled back against the settee, handing the journal to Jill. She smiled her thanks and snuggled up next to him as he looped an arm around her. Her head rested against his shoulder in a position that allowed him to lay his cheek up on it. Her dark hair was soft against his skin, her light scent filling his senses as he inhaled.
After a while he felt her weight against him increase, though not uncomfortably so. Her breathing had slowed and deepened and the hand holding the journal now lay across his lap. He gently eased the papers from her fingers and placed it upon the settee behind her. He tightened his hold on her, her ribcage rising and falling beneath her arm as his hand rested upon her stomach.
He placed a gentle kiss into her hair. She needed the sleep, he knew. He hoped she'd feel better for it, and when she awoke he'd be once again be greeted with her beautiful smile and shining eyes.
