‘Yes,’ she said, squeezing his hand, praying hard. ‘You’re a disaster.’
‘I know.’ He managed another small laugh – and spat blood.
Don’t die. Please God, don’t let him die. ‘Keep talking to me, Steve,’ she urged him. ‘Steve, please … stay awake.’ She stifled a sob as his eyes fluttered closed.
Where was Laura? She glanced back to the house, then in both directions along the road. The car that had ploughed callously into him had long gone. She hadn’t got her phone. She hadn’t got her phone. She choked back another sob, and then, seeing a neighbour emerge from his door, she screamed, ‘Call an ambulance!’
Fifty-One
Joe
Joe had heard the dispatch come through. Having established that there were no fatalities or critical injuries, he tried to get hold of Sarah. ‘I heard what happened,’ he said when he finally contacted her. ‘Is he all right?’ He felt gutted for Sarah and Steve both. Either lightning did strike twice, or her ex was the unluckiest bloke on earth – assuming it was a hit-and-run and not someone deliberately mowing him down.
‘Better than he was. He has two broken ribs, though.’ Sarah filled him in. ‘His arm’s fractured too. He bit hard on his tongue and …’ She stopped, her voice catching. ‘The car just ran straight into him. It bowled him over like a skittle. We’d been arguing and … He was barely conscious when I reached him. I didn’t have my phone and … I thought he was dying, Joe. I thought he … Oh God.’
Hearing her tears, deep, heart-wrenching sobs, Joe cursed himself. He should be with her. He should always have been there for her. ‘Okay?’ he asked softly, after a pause.
‘Not really,’ she admitted, her voice small and tremulous as her sobs shuddered to a hiccupping halt.
He gave her another minute. Then, ‘Did you see the car?’ he asked her carefully. He knew she’d already given a statement, and he didn’t want to upset her all over again, but for his own curiosity’s sake, he needed to know.
‘Not clearly,’ she said, drawing in a breath. ‘It all happened so fast. It was a dark car, a four-wheel drive. It had its headlights on full beam. It was coming towards me, almost straight at me. I swerved to avoid it, and the next thing I saw was …’ Faltering, she breathed shakily out. ‘It ploughed right into him, Joe. It didn’t even stop. How could someone do that? Just drive off?’
‘Panic, more than likely. It’s possible the driver might come forward,’ Joe offered.
‘I hope the absolute bastard rots in hell,’ Sarah seethed, her anger obviously surfacing after the initial shock, which was a good sign. Better than blaming herself, which he had thought she might, given what she’d said about her and Steve arguing. He should be with her, offering her the support she needed. She shouldn’t be dealing with this on her own.
‘They’re discharging him,’ she said, making a monumental effort to compose herself. ‘He’s insisting on going home anyway. He’s worried about Laura being on her own, can you believe? The woman who was mysteriously missing when he almost got killed.’
Joe felt a prickle of apprehension run through him. ‘Where was she?’
‘She said she heard us arguing,’ Sarah provided bitterly. ‘She said she lay down on the bed and put her earphones in.’
He heard the incredulity in her voice. ‘You don’t believe her?’
‘No, Joe, I don’t believe her,’ she answered forcefully. ‘Would you just stuff your earphones in and have a lie-down if you heard Steve arguing with me outside?’
‘I wouldn’t, no,’ he had to concede. ‘But then didn’t she do that after all hell broke loose at Ollie’s birthday party? Could be that she has a tendency to retreat inside herself.’
Sarah hesitated. ‘I suppose,’ she said, sounding far from convinced. ‘She didn’t come out for ages, though, despite her neighbour almost knocking her door down. I didn’t think Steve had even closed the door. It’s just … There’s something not right about her, Joe. About her whole family. I’m scared.’
He knew she was. The hard knot of guilt wedged in his chest twisted itself tighter. He was a policeman, and he could do nothing to help her. ‘Do you want me to come over?’ he asked. ‘I could be there in ten minutes.’
‘No.’ Sarah declined his offer after a second. ‘Thanks, but I’m okay. I really need to get home and check on Ollie. Becky’s been there with him all evening.’
Joe’s heart sank. He understood. She needed to be with her little boy.
‘You could come over tomorrow,’ she suggested. ‘If you want to, that is. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. I’ve been pretty awful to you, haven’t I? I know none of this is your fault.’
He felt relief wash through him. ‘I want to very much,’ he assured her.
‘Good,’ Sarah said, and paused. ‘I’d like to see you,’ she went on uncertainly, ‘to apologise.’
‘Now there’s an offer a man can’t refuse.’ Her tactile apology in the kitchen in mind, he smiled. He suspected what she needed was someone to just hold her. He was up for that, if nothing else. ‘See you then. Try to get some rest meanwhile. Okay?’
Once he’d rung off, he went across to Kayla who was at one of the desks. ‘Do you think you could do me a favour?’ he asked her.
‘Anything for you, Joe,’ she said chirpily, ‘as long as you get the drinks in at the pub.’
‘Done,’ he promised. ‘I need to find out what kind of vehicle is registered to a particular person.’
‘No problem,’ Kayla assured him. ‘So, name?’
‘Caldwell. Sherry Caldwell,’ he supplied.
He waited while she logged on and checked the Police National Computer. He was acting on no more than the proverbial hunch … No, it was more than that. Something was rattling him. Sarah was right. Granted, the family had gone through some horrendous stuff. They were dysfunctional, fractured as a result of it. But Laura’s problems, this hostility her mother seemed to have towards her? There was more to it, he was sure of it.
‘Nothing coming up,’ Kayla said after a second. ‘Sure you’ve got the name right?’
He wasn’t, and he had no way of finding out without asking Laura. ‘Could you try Grant Caldwell?’
Fifty-Two
Steve
Waking with a jerk, Steve attempted to raise his head from his pillow, and then groaned as a sharp pain ripped through him.
‘Shit.’ Remembering he was at home in his own bed, he lay still for a second and tried to gather himself. He’d been dreaming, trapped in a nightmare, a terrifyingly real nightmare: his boy floundering in the deep end of a pool, floating further away from him as he made futile attempts to reach him. The pool grew larger, the water darker, crimson blood seeping from the wounds of a dead rabbit like ink puffed from a squid.
The bang had woken him. The car slamming into him, he’d thought. He’d relived it over and over since it happened. But it wasn’t that. He’d heard this sound before, a distinct noise that had dragged him from his sleep on previous bleak nights. He knew what it was: the lounge door slamming to, which meant the patio doors were open, that Laura was on the other side of them.