Road Kill

“Jacob’s son, apparently.”

He raised his eyebrows and I shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” I muttered. “Until I caught him breaking in at some ungodly hour this morning, I didn’t know Jacob had a son, either.”

Clare smiled warmly at us as we drew nearer and held out her hand to me.

“Charlie,” she said, giving my fingers a fierce, heartfelt squeeze. “Thank you. For everything.”

“No problem,” I said, taking the chair Sean unstacked for me, alongside another for himself. We sat on the other side of the bed, facing Jamie across Clare’s wired limbs. “You were right about Bonny, by the way.”

She frowned. “What about her?”

“Last night,” I said. “You asked me to go and look after the dogs because they’d been stuck in all day. Don’t you remember?”

She shook her head. “Wow,” she said, looking round at us, “I must have been completely out of it.”

“But you remember telling me about the van?” I said.

“Van?”

“You talked about the Transit van that hit you,” I persisted. “You called him a determined sod.”

Sean glanced at me sharply but my eyes were on Clare’s confused face.

“I-I can’t remember,” she said, fretful. Her colour had begun to rise.

“Leave her alone,” Jamie said, tense. “It’ll come back to her when she’s ready.”

I sat back and looked from Jamie’s set expression to Clare’s embarrassed one. Not the right time to push it.

“OK, OK,” I said, contrite. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just want to get to the bottom of what happened.” Even then I couldn’t entirely let it go, but I smiled to soften the question down. “I thought you hated being a pillion passenger.”

“I do, but what I do remember is that the bloody Ducati wouldn’t start and I’d promised to go up to Devil’s Bridge,” Clare said, smiling back at me now, although a little faintly. “Slick arrived – to see Jacob about some parts, I think – just as I was struggling with it and he offered me a lift.” She shrugged and lay back carefully against the pillows. “Just bad timing, I suppose.”

It was more than bad timing, but even though I didn’t voice the comment she regarded me anxiously. “There are going to be all sorts of rumours flying round about this, aren’t there?”

There already are, I thought, but what I actually said was: “I expect so.”

She reached out and put her hand on my arm. “Sean’s told me you’re looking for Jacob,” she said. “When you find him, please don’t say anything to him about Slick. I-I’d rather explain things to him myself.”

It was the note of desperation in her voice that rocked me and for a moment I didn’t speak, straightening in my chair.

“Clare – what is there to tell him?” I demanded. And what is there that you’re not telling me?

She seemed to realise she’d said too much. Her lips thinned and the lower one began to tremble. As if on cue, a nurse came bustling up and swept us all with an accusing glare.

“Are you all right, Clare?” she asked. “Can I get you something for the pain?” And when Clare nodded she rounded on the rest of us, her tone ominous. “I think it might be best if you all left now,” she said. “I don’t think you appreciate that Clare’s been through major surgery and she needs to rest.”

We rose obediently. Sean bent to kiss her cheek and she gave him a quick hug. Jamie just offered a cross between a wave and salute. I reached down to squeeze Clare’s hand but she gripped it, hard, and held on.

“I just need to speak to Charlie for a moment longer,” she said pleadingly to the nurse, not letting go of my hand. “Just a moment. I promise.”

The nurse scowled a little more, but the heat went right out of it when the force of Clare’s smile hit her. Clare could do that to people.

“All right then,” she said with a grudging indulgence. And to me, more sharply: “Then you’re out, yes?”

“OK,” I agreed meekly and sat down again.

Sean met my eyes fleetingly as he began to shepherd Jamie towards the doorway. There was everything and nothing in that brief glance.

Clare waited until they were well out of earshot before she spoke again, tracking them anxiously.

“Charlie, I need you to do something for me. For us, really,” she said, keeping her voice low so I had to lean towards her to hear it properly.

“Name it,” I said, without hesitation.

Clare hesitated a moment. She let go of me and toyed with her nightie instead. She was wearing an elderly sack in faded cotton with the words ‘hospital garment’ running through it in red and blue letters so that from a distance it looked like a pattern. Stops people stealing them, I suppose. I was suddenly glad I’d brought her her own stuff.

“I need you to look after Jamie for me,” she said in a rush.

“What?” It wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I sat up, my face blank. “Why?” I said.

She flushed a little. “He’s going to Ireland with a group of bikers at the end of this week,” she said. “Some trip Slick was organising, I think. I-I don’t want him to go.”