“We’re too far along to back out now,” William said, his tone placid, almost lazy. “Life’s a risk. You either take it or you may as well just give up now.”
“Does it mean nothing to you that your mate Slick’s dead because of what you lot have been up to?” I demanded bitterly. “Not to mention the fact that Clare might still lose her legs?
“Now look—” Jamie began earnestly.
All I did was turn my head slightly in his direction. He shut up.
“When I spoke to Clare yesterday she reckoned they were deliberately brought down,” I went on, my attention back on William and the Ducati rider Jamie had called Paxo. “Who have you been annoying enough that they want you dead?” It was overly melodramatic, but I was aiming for shock value.
“We don’t know what you’re on about, Charlie,” William said evenly, but I hadn’t missed the little anxious glances they’d shared.
My patience didn’t so much run out then as it petered to a stop. I hadn’t expected to be taken into anyone’s confidence but being treated like I was stupid was always going to sting.
“OK,” I said wearily, shrugging. “Whatever.” I began to turn away towards the entrance.
“Hey Charlie, hold up there, will you?” Jamie called after me. I stopped and looked back. “Just give me ten minutes,” he said to Paxo, his tone close to pleading. “Wait here, yeah? I’ll be right back.”
Paxo cocked his head towards William. The big guy lifted one shoulder in lacklustre assent.
“Ten minutes,” Paxo warned, making a big show of checking his watch. “Then we’re out of here. With or without you.”
Jamie gave them an anxious nod and hurried after me.
“Funny how you never mentioned last night that you run with the same crowd as Slick,” I said as we walked into the hospital reception area.
“You never asked,” he said.
I eyed him for a moment. That much was true. But the very fact that he hadn’t volunteered the information as soon as I’d mentioned Slick’s name was suspicious in itself.
“I’m asking now,” I said. “Bit off your home ground, aren’t you?”
“William works for one of the ferry companies and they come over to Ireland a lot,” Jamie said after a moment’s pause. “That’s where I met them. They’re a fun bunch to ride with, that’s all.”
“Oh, a laugh a minute, by the looks of it,” I said. “So, what the hell was that all about?”
He shrugged like he was trying to shake off a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, nothing,” he said lightly.
“It didn’t look like nothing,” I said. “You want to end up like Slick? You carry on using the roads for a racetrack you’re heading the right way. It will catch up with you in the end – just like it did with Slick.”
Just for a moment there was a flicker across Jamie’s good-looking face.
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Charlie,” he said, the smile belying the words. “Until you do, why don’t you keep your nose out of it, OK?”
It was my turn to shrug. “It’s your funeral.”
***
Being inside the hospital had the same tightening effect on my nerves that it had the night before. I couldn’t quite pin down what it was about the place that made me so jumpy. Maybe it was just the total loss of control I had difficulty coping with.
I knew from bitter experience that if you came in here as anything other than a visitor suddenly any personal freedom was stripped away. Complete strangers could come and rob you of your dignity any time they felt like it. They governed your sleep, your food and water, and your pain.
Making a conscious effort to relax, I led Jamie on towards the waiting area I’d occupied the night before. From there a nurse directed us to the female orthopaedic ward.
The male nurse at the ward entrance looked surprised when I mentioned her name. “She’s a popular lass today,” he remarked. And when we neared her bedside I found out what he meant.
Sean Meyer was sitting in a plastic visitor’s chair next to Clare’s bed and was chatting to her like it was the most natural thing in the world that he should be there.
I stopped dead and they both looked up at us. Clare was marginally less pale than she had been the night before, but it was a close-run thing.
They’d erected a framework around her bed like a minimalist four-poster. Wires stretched from it to pins that appeared, from this angle, to actually go right through her legs, like she was some kind of suspended executive toy. The equipment seemed medieval in its crudeness. I could almost believe that the pins I could see sticking out of her torso were penetrating her body completely, impaling her to the bed.
Jamie was silent next to me. When I glanced at him he was staring fixedly at Clare. He seemed to sense my gaze and looked away quickly. But for that unguarded moment his expression had been on full view and there was no mistaking its stricken quality. So he wasn’t quite as hard-faced about all this as his mates had been.
Then Sean stood up and I’m ashamed to admit that my attention was entirely diverted. He looked exactly the same as he had the last time I’d seen him. Tall and wide without ever being bulky, he nevertheless filled the narrow space between the bed and the window, exceeded it, even.
He was wearing black jeans and a black v-necked T-shirt that emphasised the shifting layers of muscle
