The Runaway Woman Part 6

He wondered about the woman they had seen hiding there in the shadows. He found it hard to put her out of his mind. There was something about her, he thought: the sad look in her eyes, the desperate manner in which she hurried away ...

Oh, and that small, hesitant little wave as she went.

Even now, he had no real idea why he had invited her to join them. It was completely out of his nature to be so bold.

Somehow, though, in that quiet, homely stranger, he had sensed a kindred spirit.

CHAPTER FIVE.

LUCY'S MIND WAS in chaos.

Having trudged through the darkened streets, she was now just half a mile from her parents' house. She was tired, her bones ached from the cold, and the repulsion she felt towards Martin and her sister continued to fester inside her.

Increasingly, she was uncertain as to whether she should continue on to her parents' house, or return home to confront Martin.

But she knew she must put her mother first. Her father had sounded really worried when she'd spoken to him before she went to work that morning.

Her parents' house was still a good twenty minutes' walk away, so when she saw the bus approach, she started running to the nearest stop. The conductor was standing on the platform, having a quiet cigarette. He did not see Lucy approach until she waved her arms and called out 'Stop!'

'By, you cut that a bit fine, didn't you?' Long-faced and bald as a coot, he looked a peculiar sort. 'Come on then!' He stubbed out his cigarette, squeezed the end of it and shoved it into the top pocket of his jacket. Then he stepped forward to help her onto the platform. 'Where to?'

'Addison Street, please.'

'OK, that'll be one and sixpence.'

Lucy fished the coins out of her purse and handed them to him.

'That's it ... there y'are, luv!' He rolled the ticket from his machine, and handed it to her. 'I'm pleased to say, you're my last customer, and I'll not be sorry to call it a night.' He coughed like he was on his last legs. 'My back aches, my poor old feet are hot and tired, and I'm starving hungry. But I dare say a pint of the best will do the trick.' He gave a toothy grin. 'I'm hoping to catch the Dog and Duck before they close their doors for the night.'

Lucy feigned interest and duly smiled, when inside she was in pieces. Her thoughts kept going back to Paula and Martin ... how could they do that to her? She had to face the truth: it was obvious that Martin did not love her. It was equally obvious that Paula cared even less about her. And the more she tried to shut the images from her mind, the more she came to realise that her life as she knew it was over.

But what was she to tell Anne and Samuel, and how would they take it? If all this had come as a mighty shock to her, what would it do to them? The more she thought about it, the more concerned she became.

Thinking of her parents, Lucy faced worry of another kind. According to her dad, it seemed her mother, far from improving in health since suffering that bad fall, was getting worse.

Yet on the occasions when she had gone over to visit her parents, Lucy herself had not noticed any significant deterioration in her mother. But then she was not as familiar with her mother's recovery as her dad was, although she was on the phone every day to check up on her progress.

The trouble was, with her full-time work, the family to take care of, her normal daily ch.o.r.es and the household finances, she was forever trying to balance everything. Sometimes she wondered if her life was her own. There was never enough time to keep a closer eye on her mother, though she did what she could.

Seated at the back of the bus, and with no other pa.s.sengers on board, Lucy leaned her head back and heaved a big sigh. It makes a change just to sit and do nothing, she thought.

It was not long before her thoughts returned to the couple at the bus stop, and she had to smile. It had been a real jolt when the man saw her there, all curled up at the back of the shelter.

She thought they were a nice couple. The man had surprised her when he asked if she might like to join them in the pub. No stranger had ever invited her anywhere.

Come to think of it, she could not recall anyone, not even work friends or family, ever asking her to join them for a meal or a drink; except for last Christmas, when Anne cooked the turkey and they all went over to her house for dinner. That had been a rare and enjoyable experience.

Most other times she was at Anne's baby-sitting her grandchild. Other evenings, she might be up to her neck with baking, or doing the laundry, or working overtime to earn a bit of extra money. Or maybe there was a relative in need of some love and comfort. They always turned to Lucy, because they knew she would not let them down. Whatever it took, she was there for them.

When she thought about it now, she realised that when she felt down and worried, she had no one to turn to. Her husband was hardly ever home. Her children had enough problems of their own, and her parents were too old now for Lucy to burden them with her worries.

Basically, however, Lucy was content enough. Or she had been until today, when her world had been completely and utterly turned upside down.

She cast her mind back to the strangers at the bus shelter. She wondered if they were man and wife, or maybe just sweethearts. She thought the woman was attractive, while the man seemed so gentle, and unusually kind. She wondered who he was, and what had prompted him to ask her to join them.

Now though, her thoughts were interrupted when the conductor shouted out, 'Addison Street!'

'Good night, then ... stay safe.' He lit another cigarette as he saw her off the bus. 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do!' he called after her.

Lucy waved him off. 'Hmm, chance would be a fine thing!' she murmured under her breath.

She turned into Addison Street. Shocked to see an ambulance parked halfway down, she broke into a run. As she got nearer to her parents' house, she was horrified to see the front door wide open and all the lights on.

Bursting into the house, her heart skipped a beat when she saw her father slumped on the stairs, looking older and greyer than she had ever seen him.

'Dad! What's happened?'

Greatly relieved to see her there, he struggled to get up. 'Lucy! Oh, Lucy, thank G.o.d you're here!'

When he began sobbing, Lucy ran to hold him. 'Ssh ... it's all right, Dad.'

'It's your mum!' He clung to her, gabbling so fast she could hardly make out what he was telling her. 'She fell ... hit her head on the fender. I thought she was dead, Lucy. I really thought she was dead.' He began trembling uncontrollably. 'Go to her, Lucy. She needs you.' Burying his head in his hands, he sobbed uncontrollably.

Just then the ambulance crew emerged from the sitting room, with Lucy's mother secured onto a stretcher. She appeared to be unconscious. Her head was bandaged and there were splashes of blood on the upper part of her clothing.

'Go with them, Lucy!' her father urged her. 'Please! I'll be all right ... go with your mother.'

Lucy was in a quandary. She hated leaving him behind but, like he said, she had to go with her mother to the hospital. 'You really ought to come with us,' she said, but he shook his head and pushed her away.

Thinking quickly, Lucy ran to the telephone and dialled her home number; she was thankful that it was Sam, not Martin, who answered.

'h.e.l.lo!'

'It's me, Sam. Grandma's had a bad accident ... No, there's no time. Just get here and stay with Granddad ... Hurry! Please hurry!' She slammed the phone down and returned to her father. 'Sam is on his way,' she promised, but all he needed to know was that Lucy was going with her mother.

'Go on!' He ushered her away. 'Your mum needs you more than I do ... go on! I'll be fine. I'll wait for Sam. He'll get me to the hospital. You go.'

When she hesitated, he yelled, 'Please, Lucy, just go!' He gave her a shove. 'Your mother needs you!'

'All right, Dad, but be sure to watch out for Sam.' She ran down the hallway and onto the street. The ambulance men had already secured her mother and made her as comfortable as was possible.

Quickly, Lucy climbed in. She was concerned when asked to sit a short distance from her mother, as the crewman was tending to her. She understood the urgency and complied with the instruction.

Seated on the tiny bench, Lucy stretched out her arm and took hold of her mother's hand. When her mother grew restless, Lucy squeezed her hand. 'It's Lucy, Mum. I love you so much. I'm here, Mum, and we'll soon be at the hospital. Dad's following on.' Unsure as to whether her mother could hear her, Lucy felt absolutely helpless.

Throughout the seemingly endless journey, however, she continued talking to her mother, rea.s.suring her.

The shock was beginning to take a grip on Lucy, who, like her dad, could not stop trembling, while her anxious gaze was fixed constantly on her mum's bloodied face.

It looked bad to Lucy. The deep gashes and bruises ran from beneath the bandages to her jaw and chin. The wider bandages and dressing over the upper part of her face and head were soaked with blood.

Lucy was relieved when her mother began to breathe more easily, although there was still the occasional shuddering breath that she seemed to hold for ever.

As they rushed through the night with sirens screaming, Lucy's mother grew increasingly agitated. Sliding back the cabin window, the ambulance man yelled to the driver to call ahead with further medical information.

Able to comfort her mother with words of love and a gentle squeeze of the hand, Lucy constantly rea.s.sured her.

When the ambulance turned onto the highway, she caught a pa.s.sing glimpse of what looked like Martin's van. It was going at speed in the opposite direction, towards her parents' house. 'Thank G.o.d!' she murmured, 'They'll take care of Dad now.'

The journey to hospital seemed endless, but soon they were turning in through the gates. 'We're at the hospital, Mum. You'll be all right now,' Lucy told her mother but there was no response.

When they arrived at the emergency department doors, Lucy quickly scrambled out of the ambulance, and the driver and attendant lifted out the stretcher with her mother still unconscious. Keeping her safe between the two of them, they hastened across the tarmac and in through the emergency entrance, where the trauma team was waiting.

Lucy followed. Her voice trembling, she glanced up to the skies and prayed, 'Please, Lord, don't let her die. Don't take her away from us.'

A world without her mother in it would be a bleak prospect indeed.

Inside the hospital, Lucy's mother was rushed away. From the corridor, as the door swung shut behind the stretcher, Lucy caught a glimpse of her mother, white as chalk, the medical staff already closing in around her.

A minute later, the ambulance crew reappeared. One of them paused to rea.s.sure Lucy, and when she asked if her mother was going to be all right, his answer was gentle, but evasive. 'I'm sure the doctor will be out to see you as soon as your mother is stabilised. I can a.s.sure you, though, she is in the best of hands.' That said, he hurried on his way.

A few minutes later, Lucy was relieved to see a nurse approaching. 'How is she?' She clambered to her feet. 'Please ... will she be all right?'

The nurse had a gentle manner. 'Your mother is not yet conscious, but she is stabilised,' she said kindly. 'The doctors are now a.s.sessing the full extent of her injuries. Meantime, it will help us if you could explain how exactly she sustained those injuries.'

'I'm not altogether sure,' Lucy explained. 'Dad said she stumbled and hit her head on the fender. She hasn't been too steady recently. Only a short time back, she had a nasty fall in the street. It shook her confidence, and left her frail and nervous. She's been unusually quiet of late ... not at all like her old self.' The tears she had tried so hard to keep back now ran down her face. 'Please, Nurse, she will be all right, won't she?'

'That's not for me to say. She does have serious injuries, but like I say, she is much calmer now.' The nurse was sympathetic, but she had no way of knowing the full extent of the injuries. 'We'll know what to expect after the doctors have concluded their examination. It will be some time yet, before they can talk to you, so I wonder, rather than sitting here worrying, how about I take you for a cup of tea?'

'No!' Lucy was adamant. 'Thank you, but I need to speak with the doctors.'

The nurse was patient. She had been through similar situations many times, and she knew how frantic the relatives could be while they waited for news of their loved ones. 'Please, will you come away for a few minutes? Worrying, won't help your mother. I'll let them know where we'll be, and in any case, we won't be gone too long. Just long enough for you to take a breath and talk to me about your mother.'

She pointed to the door behind Lucy. 'You're badly shaken up, and I do understand why you don't want to move from here. But just a few steps away, through that door, is a little cafe where we can sit and wait and it's more comfortable than here. The doctors will be a while yet, so how about the two of us go through to the cafe and find ourselves a pot of tea? Then you can tell me what happened to your mother after she had that first fall. It's important that the doctors know the full history.'

'I'm frightened to leave her,' Lucy murmured, wiping the tears from her face with her hands. 'I need to stay here.'

The nurse laid her hand over Lucy's. 'It's Lucy, isn't it?' She had gathered that information from the ambulance men.

'Yes.'

'Right then. I promise you there is nothing you can do just now. The doctors will be with your mother for some while yet, Lucy. They will also need to take X-rays, and that will add a few more minutes. So, like I say, we have time for a chat and that hot cuppa you look like you desperately need. Just a few minutes, then we'll come back.'

Lucy thought of her mother, hurt and in trouble, without family near. 'Are you sure they'll know where we are if they need me?'

'You have my word.'

'They will let me see her soon, won't they?'

'That is for the doctors to decide, but I hope it won't be too long now.' The nurse hesitated. She knew how very serious the injuries were but, like Lucy, she had to wait for the doctors to conclude their a.s.sessment. Meantime, there was little more she could tell Lucy. 'Look, instead of sitting here in this draughty walkway, let's go to the cafe. It really is just a few steps away. When we get back, we might know more.'

'My family are on their way. They won't know where to find me!' Lucy began to panic.

'Yes they will. I'll contact the front desk, and let them know.'

Talking constantly, she led Lucy through the door and along the empty corridor. 'The cafe is open all night,' she informed Lucy. 'The two of us can enjoy a hot cuppa in warmer surroundings, while you tell me all about your mother.'

When Lucy made no response, except to turn and look back towards the door, the nurse drew her attention. 'I know it's difficult,' she said gently, 'but try not to worry, eh?'

Lucy merely nodded.

The corridor was long and curving, with not a soul in sight. All Lucy could see in her mind's eye was her mother, frail and broken.

Now, with the overhead lights turned low, it seemed gloomy along the corridor, and eerily empty. The only real sound Lucy could hear echoing in her tortured mind was the impact of their heels as they walked along ... like two soldiers on parade ... left-right, left-right, left-right. It was a haunting rhythm like no other.

Just minutes away from the hospital, Martin grew increasingly anxious. 'We're nearly there.' He glanced at the old man seated beside him. 'Just a few more minutes, Dad, and you'll see her.'

Lucy's dad, though, was not aware of Martin's encouraging words. Lost in thought, he was angrily muttering to himself, 'I should've kept a closer eye on her. After that fall in town, she was really shaken up. She was unsteady on her feet, and sometimes she was lost in a little world of her own. I let her down, Martin. I should have made her go back to the doctor. But she didn't want to, and nothing I said could make her change her mind.'

'She always had a strong mind, Dad,' Martin a.s.sured him. 'If she decided not to see the doctor, wild horses would not drag her there.'

'I let her down, and that's an end to it!' the old man continued muttering to himself. 'It's my fault she's in hospital. My fault, and no one else's.'

'Granddad! It's not your fault.' Sam leaned forward from the back of the van. 'n.o.body could have known she would fall down again. You can't blame yourself, Granddad.'

'All I want is to see your grandma on the mend again,' he said.

'We all want the same.' Sam placed a comforting hand on the old man's shoulder. 'Take it easy. Like Dad says, we're only minutes away now.'

'Hey! Where's Paula?' The old man suddenly realised his second daughter was not in the van. 'Has n.o.body told her that her mother is lying in the hospital? Why isn't she here?'

'She's on her way,' Martin explained. 'I needed to get you to the hospital, so I asked Anne if she would collect Paula. They're following on ... not far behind us, I shouldn't wonder.'

'How far is it now?' the old man asked for the umpteenth time. 'Are we nearly there?'

'It's not far now. Try not to worry,' Martin constantly rea.s.sured him.

In truth, he also was sick with worry, and not just about his parents-in-law. The prospect of Paula and Lucy face to face at the hospital made him increasingly nervous. For everyone's sake, and his in particular, he was desperately hoping that common sense and concern about their mother would prevent Lucy and Paula from raising the issue of what had happened back at Paula's house.

He suspected that neither sister would make a scene in the current, sorry circ.u.mstances, although he had no doubt that there would be a showdown between himself and the two sisters at some point soon. He had to be sure that Paula meant it when she said she wanted them to be together permanently. He should talk to her about that, and make it a priority. If Paula really meant what she had said about their setting up house together, then he would need to tell Lucy the truth, whatever the consequences.