E for England (8 page)

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Authors: Elisabeth Rose

BOOK: E for England
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‘I used to play rugby at school,' he said.

‘Did you? I played tennis.' Not badly but not brilliantly either. Ages ago. Her tennis racquet had disappeared in the interim upheavals.

‘I play tennis. We should have a game sometime.'

‘No, we shouldn't. I haven't played since school.' No way was she running about being sweaty and inept while Hugh displayed his well-honed body in shorts and pretended he didn't mind playing with an uncoordinated, unfit neighbour.

‘Get back into it. This weather is perfect for tennis. Does Leonie play?'

‘No idea. I've never seen her do anything sporty.' Her body was naturally slim and shapely.

‘I was just thinking if she did we could get her and James to make up a four.'

Of course he'd want to include Leonie. ‘Ask her.'

He nodded, pleased with his idea. ‘I will. Or you could.'

‘Mmm.' Or not.

Mattie and Floss came towards them, eyeing Hugh with the blatantly disapproving, suspicious and resentful faces small children are so good at not hiding.

‘Can we go now?' asked Mattie. He ignored Hugh completely.

‘We want to have our iceblocks,' said Floss. She gave Hugh a tiny glance but no smile. Mattie must have told her he was
persona non grata
because normally she was quite sociable, if shy at first.

Annie stood up. ‘All right.' She shoved her book into the carry bag.

‘Are you heading home now?' asked Hugh.

‘Yes, via the shop over there.' Annie pointed to the far side of the park.

‘Mind if I join you?'

‘Fine.'

Mattie gave an ostentatious sigh and began walking away, kicking his feet on tufts of grass, football tucked under his arm.

‘Hugh used to play football,' Annie called. ‘He might like to play with you sometime.'

She sent Hugh a hopeful look and he said, ‘Sure.'

‘I'm tired,' Mattie said. ‘I want to go home.'

‘Sorry,' Annie murmured. She picked up the carry bag and slung it over her shoulder.

‘Let him take his time. He'll soon see we're just friends.'

Floss grasped Annie's hand in her hot grimy one. ‘I want a pink iceblock. Strawberry.'

‘We'll see what they have. I'm having an orange and mango one.'

‘Mummy likes orange.' She peeked up at Hugh. ‘Are you having an iceblock too?'

‘I might. I like plain vanilla ice-cream best. Maybe with chocolate on it.'

‘Me too. I like chocolate bits in it.' Floss skipped a couple of steps and let Annie's fingers go. She ran to catch up with Mattie who was halfway across the open grass area.

‘Mattie misses their father,' Annie said.

‘Has he contacted them at all?'

‘He sent postcards to our old address. The last one was a Bali beach scene about a two
months ago.'

‘Does he know you moved?'

‘His phone never answered. I left messages and I wrote to him at the one address I had but he'd already skipped the country, I think. We haven't seen him for about nine months.' Try as she might she couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘Money just stopped going into our joint account. He never took money out of it after a couple of months right at the start, but he'd know I couldn't afford to stay on in the house on my pay alone. I never want to see him again unless it's to sign divorce papers.'

Hugh paced beside her in silence. It felt like a non-judgmental silence rather than an embarrassed ‘Oh my goodness, I wish she'd shut up' silence. Or she was imagining his was a sympathetic, kindly ear? Either way her mouth was now closed. The last thing she wanted to talk about was her deadbeat soon to be ex.

‘We're managing pretty well now.'

‘You are.'

She smiled. ‘Apart from the oleander incident.'

He laughed.

‘Mattie,' she called. ‘Don't go out of the park. Wait for us.'

Ten minutes later, armed with iceblocks they headed for home. No matter which route they took, the path led to a steep flight of steps leading from water level up on to the spine of land jutting out into the harbour. Cut into the sandstone years before, the steps wound up between houses and towering trees, with creepers and bushes spilling a profusion of flowers and perfumes over the fences on either side. Coming down was like entering an enchanted glade, going up was torturous and usually took many rest stops.

Today Floss managed about halfway then sat down on a step and refused to continue.

‘I can't climb anymore.'

‘Baby.' Mattie walked up a few more steps and stared down at his sister, hands on hips.

‘I'm not. I'm tired,' she wailed.

‘You wanted to walk,' said Annie. ‘And you know how steep it is. I warned you.'

‘It's too hot.' The bottom lip began to tremble. Any minute now tears would fall.

‘I can't carry you. You're too big.' Annie sighed. ‘We'll have a longer rest.' She should have driven to the park and not been swayed by Flossie's insistence she could walk both ways.

‘What if I give you a piggyback?' said Hugh.

‘Oh no! She's too heavy.'

‘No, she's not. She's a featherweight.' Hugh smiled at the red-cheeked miserable little figure. ‘I'm strong. What do you say, Floss?'

Floss looked at Annie doubtfully. Annie nodded. ‘If you like. Thank you, Hugh.'

Floss stood up. ‘Thank you, Hugh.'

Hugh positioned himself a few steps down so she could climb onboard. He turned and set off, powering past Mattie, leading the way. Mattie scowled but continued bravely, even though his little legs must be weary after running about kicking his football.

Annie caught him up. ‘Let me carry the ball.'

He handed it to her and she jammed it into her bag. ‘Nearly there.'

‘Flossie's a baby.'

‘Her legs are shorter than yours.'

‘I don't need a piggyback.'

‘I wouldn't mind one. Whew!' Annie gave an exaggerated exhalation and Mattie laughed.

‘You're not very fit, Mum.'

He stomped on manfully. Hugh and Flossie had reached the top but he hadn't set her down as they waited. The road still sloped up until it reached the main street at right angles a few hundred metres farther. Then the walk was flat.

‘Floss can walk now.' Annie paused, panting. Her face would be a lovely shade of puce, toning beautifully with her pastel pink t-shirt. Hugh was barely puffing.

‘I'm still tired,' Floss announced.

Hugh grinned. ‘We're fine. Aren't we?' He jiggled Floss up and down and she clung to his shoulders and giggled.

‘Yes.'

‘Just to the main road then, Floss.' Annie gave her a firm look.

‘Okay.'

At the corner Hugh squatted so Floss could slide off his back.

Mattie was lagging now while Floss skipped ahead.

‘Not far to go, sweetheart.' Annie slowed for him. ‘We can have a cold drink when we get home and you can have a rest and read your new books.'

‘Is he coming in for a drink too?' Another scowl accompanied the question. Hugh, walking just ahead, must have heard but he didn't react.

‘No. Hugh's just walking with us because we're all going the same way. It's lucky he is because otherwise we'd still be sitting on the steps with Floss.'

Mattie didn't reply but took the hand she held out to him.

In the foyer Hugh said, ‘It was nice to see you again Annie, and nice to meet you, Floss and Mattie.'

‘Thanks for carrying Floss, Hugh.'

‘No problem.'

‘Thank you, Hugh,' said Floss with her best smile.

‘My pleasure. Mattie, maybe we could kick your football around a bit next weekend?'

Mattie stared at the floor.

‘If you'd like to, let me know.' Hugh's eye met Annie's and lingered. He smiled. ‘See you.'

‘Bye.'

Hugh let himself into the apartment. James was asleep on the couch with the television blaring and a football match in progress. Hugh grabbed the remote and pressed mute. He could do with a sleep himself but it was too late in the day now. Better have an early night after last night's marathon. How did Leonie do it? She seemed to be out most nights. James too.

He was more inclined to stay home in the evenings. Like Annie. Walking home with her had been pleasantly relaxing. She was good company, easy to chat to. Floss was a little sweetheart. Pretty as every four year old and with no apparent ill effects from the family break-up. Mattie was suffering the most. Too young to fully understand what had happened but old enough to feel betrayed and confused by the situation. Missing his father and probably in some way blaming Annie for the man's departure. Resentful of any other man becoming close to his
mother or interfering in the family unit.

Had he been that way all those years ago with his stepfather?

Hugh went to make tea.

Why had her husband left? Another woman? That was most likely, although Annie was a very special lady. The other woman must be something else to outdo her plus the children. Odd he hadn't wanted to keep in touch with them. Unless he hadn't wanted children in the first place and felt trapped. He wouldn't be the first man in that situation. All it took was an attractive, available alternative as catalyst and they were gone.

Hugh shook his head and sighed. Better not to get into that situation in the first place. He didn't want the responsibility of children and there was absolutely no chance he would pretend anything else to a woman he was involved with. It was selfish and thoughtless in the extreme to do what Annie's husband had done to her and, most of all, to their children. Annie would cope and move on. She already was. The children would be affected for life. A father, or mother, who clears off without a word leaves a wounded adult behind.

Hugh strode into the Intensive Care Ward. Four patients had come in through Emergency within an hour of each other and he'd been called down to see them all. Two were elderly women with pneumonia. One with a collapsed lung. Both had been heavy smokers all their lives so the prognosis was not good. He'd sent both immediately to the High Dependency Unit. Another had come in with a severe asthma attack but was responding well and would be moved to a different ward soon; the last to present, a young man, had symptoms he couldn't immediately diagnose. Could be any number of things ranging from the relatively trivial to life threatening.

The nurse was checking his vitals; an efficient male nurse named Abdul who spoke English with a soft accent and treated the patients with gentle care. Hugh studied the information on the computer screen chart at the foot of the man's bed. Lester Fuller. Twenty three years old, nonsmoker, no allergies, no prior health issues. Rapid shallow breathing, high fever and congestion in the lungs.

‘Any change?' Hugh asked.

‘No. The fever is high and he has a bad headache.'

‘Have the results come back yet from the tests I ordered?'

‘Not yet, Doctor.'

‘Call me, please, as soon as they come in.'

‘Yes, of course.'

Hugh approached the bed. ‘Hello, Lester. How are you feeling?'

The pale blue eyes opened but with no understanding in them. He rolled his head to one side, breath scraping painfully in his lungs despite the oxygen tube in his nose.

‘Are you in pain?'

Hugh touched Lester's arm to gain his attention. ‘Do you have any pain, Lester?'

‘Ache all over…all over,' he rasped. ‘Splitting headache.'

He turned to Abdul. ‘How long has he been like this?'

‘His sister was here, she's just gone out for a cup of tea — she said at least two days. He's had diarrhoea but hasn't been able to keep anything down either. She called the ambulance.'

‘Lucky for him she was there.' It could be meningitis or typhoid fever, but that was
unlikely. ‘When his sister comes back I want to talk to her.'

‘All right, Doctor.'

Hugh noted his visit on the chart and moved to the other side of the ward where the two newly admitted pneumonia sufferers lay propped up, tubes running from every available orifice and monitors flashing different coloured lines and numbers. He scrutinised the readouts. Both were stable although one was making better progress than the other. Nothing much more he could do here.

Abdul approached him as he was on his way out, heading back to his office and a cup of coffee.

‘Excuse me, Doctor, Lester's sister is here. Her name is Susan Quick.'

‘Aah. Thank you, Abdul.'

Susan waited by her brother's bed. A large woman with the same pale blue eyes and sandy hair as her brother, she had the look of a bulldog about her. Suspicious and sceptical, an older sister about to defend the rights of her brother to the last gasp.

‘Hello, Susan. I'm Doctor Clelland. I'm a respiratory specialist. I was called down to see your brother when he came into Emergency.'

‘Is he going to be all right? What's wrong with him?'

‘I'm not sure just yet. I'm having tests done and I'll know more when I see the results. Can you give me some information about your brother, please?'

She nodded. ‘I'll try. He lives by himself and I don't see him all that much.'

‘He was lucky you called the ambulance when you did.'

‘I phoned him about a family thing and he sounded so bad I went round to his apartment. I have a key.'

‘Had he been ill for long?'

‘A couple of days he said, but he wasn't making much sense. I'm just glad he answered the phone. He'd had diarrhoea and vomiting but couldn't eat anything. It was the fever that worried me. He was drenched in sweat. That's why I called the ambulance.'

Hugh nodded. ‘Has he travelled overseas recently?'

‘No. He never goes anywhere.'

‘Where does he work?'

‘He's a cleaner. He works for a company that cleans office blocks.'

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