Chapter Twenty – Light In the Dark
Jo gently let go of Nick's hand and rose from the visiting chair. She fought to keep her tears at bay as she looked at his handsome face. Somehow, in an odd way, he seemed relaxed where he lay in the hospital bed, attached to a drip and monitors. It was another day, another day's visiting hours that was over. Once again she would go home to Katie and try to explain why her dad didn't come with her. Another day to come home to a cold house, a dark house. She missed Nick terribly, missed his kindness, their conversations; missed him beside her in their double bed. It was with a knot forming in her stomach that she took one last look at his pale face before she left.
She walked automatically, without thinking, lost in her own thoughts, through the hospital corridors and out to the parking lot. She drove the few miles between Ashfordly and Aidensfield and parked the car outside the police house, too tired to even bother putting it in the garage.
Today, to her surprise, the house wasn't dark. 'The babysitter must have brought Katie home,' she thought and suddenly felt grateful.
She walked straight up to the kitchen entrance and inserted the key. It was quiet inside and she guessed that the kind old woman from across the street had just gotten Katie to bed.
Jo sighed. For the third time that day she wished Aunt Eileen hadn't gone to France. She would have given a lot just to talk to her right now, to get advice and reassurance that Nick would be okay. She looked over at the bookshelf and smiled at the picture of Eileen and Katie together but then her eyes seemed to draw themselves to another picture; a picture of Kate Rowan. Jo hesitated and then walked over to the photograph. She picked it up and looked at the smiling woman, she looked so happy, so full of life, like she didn't know what trouble was.
"Have you come to take him away from me?" Jo whispered despondently to the smiling woman.
OOOOOO
"Watch your head Mr. Jones," Mike cautioned as he pushed the struggling man into the Panda car.
"I will be out of here in no time. You have no proof of anything," he said angrily.
"I think we do this time," Mike countered, finding it hard not to show his satisfaction. "Then of course there's the accident in the lorry garage."
"That's what it was; an accident," Jones returned heatedly.
"Anyway," the former London copper said as he tilted his head slightly to face Jones, who was now sitting in the back of the police car. "I'll let CID sort out everything with you and…by the way your brother says hello."
OOOOOO
Bernie Scripps looked forebodingly at the old tents lying on the back of Claude's truck. "Are you sure this is such a good idea?" he asked.
He huffed. "What do you mean? Of course it is," Greengrass returned. "You can't believe the cheap price for all of this."
Bernie sighed inwardly with a resigned look on his face. "Actually, I have a fairly good idea," he said.
"You need to do something about that personality of yours, you spend too much time in the company of the dead," Claude returned as he walked over from where he had been standing, overlooking the marked spot for the bear tent. He leaned over the flap and reached for the tent. "Come on give me a little help with this."
"Mr. Greengrass," David spoke up from behind him. "How do we string the poles?"
"Don't you worry about that now, David, give us a hand with this instead," Bernie said kindly.
"We use the sledge hammer and the…" Claude trailed off searching for the right word and then gave up. "…you know the sharpish things."
"He means the smaller wooden pieces which you tie the strings to and then secure to the ground," Bernie clarified.
"Oh, I didn't bring them," David said sheepishly. "Didn't think they came with the tents. I placed them on the stack of wood, for the fireplace."
Claude turned to look at him with an incredulous look on his face. "You what?" he asked in disbelief.
"Give me strength," Bernie mumbled wearily as he glanced at his watch.
Several hours later Lord Ashfordly sighed slightly in frustration as he overlooked the trio a bit further away in the Estate Park. Oscar Blaketon carefully contained a chuckle threatening to escape him as the tent that would serve as the mobile bar crashed down on top of Greengrass and Bernie while David stood outside with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
"I have a feeling I'll come to regret my decision about getting those three to take care of the tents," Lord Ashfordly said in exasperation.
"Everything will be up and running till tomorrow evening, my lordship; I'll make sure of that," the former sergeant promised.
He secretly enjoyed helping the lordship with the organization around the event. Come to think about it he had years of practice, although it was as a police officer, overseeing the events.
"I'll have a chat with Constable Ventress about security," Ashfordly said and tore his gaze away from the green fields in front of him and focused on Blaketon, who was standing to his right. "I understand he will be left in charge now after the tragic events surrounding Sergeant Rowan's accident."
Oscar nodded solemnly. "We all hope he will come around soon," he said.
"Of course," the lordship replied. "It wasn't too long ago that we lost our good village doctor. A very tragic thing."
"I know Nick is a fighting spirit," Blaketon said. "Anyway, I'll head down to the station and talk to Alf. After all, I know the place fairly well."
OOOOOO
Alf Ventress lazily walked into the station with a satisfied look on his face and nodded his greetings at his younger colleague, Phil Bellamy. The lunch had ended already but he reasoned a couple of minutes, give or take, didn't make much of a difference. Besides, with DI Shiner off their backs, it would be up to him to man the station for a while.
The old copper had just about managed to get out of his coat when the door opened again and a stern looking man with sergeant stripes on his uniform walked in.
"Good morning," the unknown superior officer said curtly.
Phil frowned but then quickly rose from his chair and nodded before answering with a faint smile, "Good morning sergeant."
Alf raised a curious eyebrow where he stood, next to the row of hooks. "Is there anything we could do for you, sergeant?" he asked politely.
"I believe it's more a matter of what I can do for you, gentlemen," he let on with a smirk. "I'm Sergeant Lancewood and I'm here to relieve Sergeant Rowan for the time being."
Phil sat down dejectedly.
Alf slowly walked over to his desk before turning to face the newcomer once again. "I'm sorry, Sgt. Lancewood but we haven't been informed of such a thing," he said.
The Wales born sergeant, judging by his dialect, eyed him, his sharp brown eyes making Alf uncomfortable. He appeared to be in his early fifties, trimmed and neat and not afraid of stepping on someone's toes.
"Considering the events and the outcome of it all, division assigned me to Ashfordly on a temporal basis. Then of course, it all depends on what'll happen with Sergeant Rowan," he said.
Phil suddenly felt himself go angry. "Sergeant Rowan is a fighter. With all due respect, sir, I don't think it'll be long before he's back," the young constable said.
Lancewood shrugged. "Even so…," he trailed off waiting for the officers to give their names.
Alf smiled sheepishly. "Alf Ventress," he said as he sat down behind his desk.
"Phil Bellamy," the younger man said sullenly.
"Even so, Constable Bellamy, whether you like it or not, I'll be around for a while and I expect sharp officers, here on regular times, no slouching and that you do as I ask," the relief sergeant returned.
"Very well then sergeant, your office is through here," Alf said with a sweeping hand gesture."
"Thank you," he replied curtly and made to walk toward the closed door. After a few steps he stopped and turned back. "I was under the impression that there would be three of you under my command."
"Yes, sir, PC Bradley has his own patch in Aidensfield and will not report in until later today," Phil filled in.
"I see," Lancewood said and resumed his walk.
Ventress waited until the door was closed behind the man before picking up the phone. "I better give Mike a ring, warn him about this unexpected turn of events," he reasoned.
OOOOOO
Nick tiredly eased down on his side of the bed as he'd just managed to lull baby Sarah to sleep. Kate tossed mildly in the bed, her breath hitching in her throat.
"Kate?" Nick asked softly as he turned toward her.
She shivered under the thick blanket and slowly opened her dull eyes. "Hold me," she whispered.
Without another word he wrapped his strong arms around her. He felt with alarm how cold she was and how thin she'd really become.
"Nick," Kate said softly. "I'll always be with you."
He felt himself shivering at the words spoken. "No, Kate, don't talk like that," he replied.
"Take care of Sarah for me and…" she trailed off and closed her eyes.
Nick swallowed, it felt like his heart had stopped and fear gripped him as he looked down at Kate.
When he feared she was no longer with him she slowly cracked her eyes open, a moment of clarity perhaps, he didn't know.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too, Kate," he returned, trying to keep his inner turmoil out of his voice.
She didn't say anything more, not then, not ever, as her body relaxed and went limp in his arms. The sickness finally claiming her, delivering her at death's door.
Nick kissed her gently on the cheek as tears sprung from his eyes. "I don't know how to live without you, Kate," he whispered.
The Aidensfield constable couldn't take it anymore, it was too much. He got out of bed and headed downstairs. The cold stung his skin as he walked out, barefoot, on the single step in front of the door. Too stunned to care, too caught up in the horrible reality of what had just happened he sat down on the cold stone and wrapped his arms around himself, seemingly unaware of the snow tickling his skin.
"I'll be with you in your heart Nick, as long as you want me," Kate's voice echoed in his head.
"Kate," he whispered and grimaced as pain flared through his skull.
"Nick," a soft voice said. "Nick, please, wake up."
"Kate?" he repeated in confusion.
"Nick, open your eyes," the voice commanded softly, hopefully.
He struggled to try and ascertain everything and then slowly opened his eyes into slits, not remembering having closed them in the first place. He gasped as bright light assaulted his senses.
"That's right, Nick," the voice encouraged and he blinked heavy eyelids open.
The curly blonde woman sitting next to him let out a shaky breath and took his hand into hers. A smile appearing on her face, a relieved smile.
A look of confusion clouded Nick's face as he looked around the room.
"You're in hospital, Nick," Jo's soft voice explained. "Let me get the doctor," she added.
Nick blinked, trying to keep his eyes open, but the tiredness he felt made him succumb once again to the darkness of before, but this time, darkness was all it was.
OOOOOO
To be continued
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