‘Doesn’t that make it look like you think Paula was out of order? Surely we should have her back?’ Alvin protested.
‘It’s OK, Alvin,’ Paula sighed, getting to her feet. ‘The DCI is right. ReMIT’s too new to have a proper track record. You need to look squeaky clean.’ She picked up her bag. ‘I’m not worried about an inquiry. I’ll be back.’
‘Though possibly not in this unit,’ Rutherford said.
That was an insult Paula couldn’t stomach. ‘You’re the boss. Much better to stick with the DI who thought the suspect was the good guy.’ And she walked right past him, head high, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of seeing how upset she was. She’d save that for Elinor.
They met in the Starbucks opposite the hospital where they’d had their first coffee together years before. Paula’s flat white lasted longer than her flat recitation of the morning’s events.
‘He sounds like a fuckwit, Rutherford,’ Elinor said.
‘Not so much a fuckwit as a careerist. He’s all about how it makes him look.’
‘Couldn’t be more different from Carol.’ She sighed.
‘Speaking of Carol . . . after you rang, I called down to neurosurgery. Tony’s conscious. And apparently coherent.’
For the first time in days, Paula felt a lightening of spirit. She grinned like a happy drunk. ‘That’ll be a first.’ She leaned across the table and gave Elinor a smacking kiss on the lips. ‘That’s wonderful news. Have you called Carol?’
‘I thought you’d like to tell her yourself.’
Sober now, Paula said, ‘I think it’s time for her and Tony to talk to each other again. You got Carol in to see him when he was unconscious. How hard could it be to get her in now he’s awake?’
‘It’s a completely different situation. He was unconscious, that’s the point. She couldn’t upset him by being there. But now? What if he’s still determined not to see her?’
‘There won’t be a better time for ages, Elinor. Once he’s discharged back to prison, the only way they’ll see each other is at visiting time. And that’s no place to start a reconciliation. They’re our friends. Surely we owe it to them to help them rebuild their relationship?’
Carol had kept the scrubs she’d worn on her previous visit to Tony’s hospital room. As Elinor had instructed her, she was wearing them when they met in the hospital café. Elinor handed over her stethoscope again and also a clipboard with a printed form that said COGNITIVE EXAMINATION at the top. ‘That’ll buy you some time,’ she said.
Carol looked uncertain. ‘What if he doesn’t want to see me?’
‘He can say so. I’ll go in with you. If he wants to you leave . . . well, you’re no worse off than you are now.’
Carol gave a twisted smile. ‘At least that way we’ll know he’s making a good recovery. That he’s not lost his memory.’
Paula put a hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s time, Carol. He needs to see how courageous you’ve been.’
‘If you’d seen me the other night, that’s not how you’d describe me.’ Carol visibly pulled herself together and stood up. ‘Let’s do it,’ she said.
‘See you later,’ Elinor said to Paula, stooping to kiss the top of her head. ‘Don’t fret.’
The two women walked in silence to the lifts and down the corridor to where a different prison officer sat reading a cycling magazine. He didn’t look up till they were right beside him, Elinor’s hand on the door handle. ‘We need to do some tests,’ she said.
‘Be my guest,’ the guard said, already engrossed in his magazine again.
Carol’s heart was thudding in her chest as she followed Elinor into the room. She felt nauseous, on the edge of tears. She looked past Elinor to where Tony lay, eyes closed, face pale apart from the bruising around his eyes and the still-swollen nose, one wrist handcuffed to the bed.
‘Hello, Tony,’ Elinor said softly.
He grunted and opened his eyes, focusing on the white coat then looking up at her face. He smiled. ‘Elinor.’
‘I’ve brought someone to see you.’ She stepped to one side.
Carol opened her mouth to speak but no sound emerged.
‘Carol?’ A moment’s confusion. ‘Why are you wearing a hat?’
‘Because she’s pretending to be a nurse,’ Elinor said.
He struggled momentarily and Carol was gripped by the conviction that he’d tell her to go. ‘I can’t see you properly,’ he complained.
‘I’ll go if you want.’
‘No. Come closer.’
She took a couple of steps forward and he visibly relaxed into the pillow. They gazed hungrily at each other, taking in every detail of the other’s changes.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Elinor said.
Neither of them paid any attention as she left. ‘You look . . . terrible, actually,’ Carol said.
‘I feel surprisingly good. Must be the drugs. But I was always rubbish in a fight. You look good. Strong.’ He managed a faint smile. ‘A bit short on sleep, maybe.’
‘I’ve had a busy week.’
He groaned. ‘Oh God. Vanessa. I am so sorry.’
‘She’s the exception that proves your rule about there being no such things as monsters. It’s amazing you turned out as well as you did.’
‘What? Serving time for manslaughter, stripped of my professional credentials?’
‘When you put it like that . . . ’ She smiled without tension for the first time in as long as she could remember. How could it be that after so long an estrangement they could simply slip back into this easy an exchange?
‘Paula tells me you’ve been seeing someone for the PTSD?’
‘Several successive somebodies. None of the conventional therapies worked for me.’
‘Of course they didn’t. You’re too private and you’re too good at figuring out what they want to hear. So what did work?’
‘Don’t laugh. Bodywork. I do these exercises—’
‘I’ve read about it – EMDR. And it’s helped?’
‘I have a long way to go but yes, it’s given me back some control. Now when I panic, I know what it is. I can recognise when it starts and I can head it off.’
‘I’m pleased for you.’
She laid a
