Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4) (27 page)

‘What?’

‘Can’t believe you’re a scrounger.’ Lewis shook his head.

Nick’s brow furrowed. ‘You don’t know me, or my circumstances.’

‘But you’re not working?’

Nick shuffled around on the bench. ‘I’m not getting out of bed to earn six pounds an hour.’

‘The same old excuse. Haven’t you ever heard of working your way up from the bottom?’ Lewis smirked. ‘You’re a waste of time. I’ve killed more people than you’ve had hot dinners.’

‘You think that’s something to brag about? Only cowards hide behind a uniform.’

‘I’m not a fucking coward.’ Lewis bristled. ‘Tell me, what have you done with your life?’

Nick didn’t answer.

‘And how much of the world have you seen?’

‘I’ve been to Spain on my holidays a few times.’ Nick’s chest puffed up. ‘And I’ve been to Rome on a stag do.’

Lewis laughed. ‘Whoop-de-do.’

‘Are you mocking me?’ Nick glared at him now.

Lewis shrugged. ‘I’m just telling it like it is.’

‘So how many countries have you visited, then?’

‘Nine.’

Nick whistled. ‘Not bad, I suppose.’

‘Beats living around this dump.’

‘This place isn’t so bad. Especially if you have the right woman. Which you obviously never had. So I can beat you on that score.’

‘I did have the right woman.’

Lewis stood up. He didn’t want to listen anymore.

‘See you around,’ Nick shouted.

But Lewis ignored him as he walked away. Once outside the park, he thought he’d go to see Amy but he chickened out at the last minute. He needed to make more of an effort, but not when he was so angry.

As he made his way back home, he wondered which one out of him and Nick Steadman was the bigger fool. Nick was a scrounger but he had a family who he could go home to, one that didn’t resent him. Lewis had fought for his country and lost everything because of it – his wife, the chance to form a close relationship with his son, their beautiful home. He’d tried to better himself by joining the army but he’d still ended up back on the estate.

Was it any wonder he was angry and drinking to block out his miserable existence? Surely he deserved a place in life again, a chance to make things better?

As he walked past a young woman with a baby in a pushchair, unexpected tears filled his eyes. He’d missed out on so much of Dan’s life as he’d grown up, yet here he was at thirty-two, still young enough to have more children.

Maybe that was it. If he and Amy got back together and had another baby, things might work out this time. But Lewis knew that if it was down to him, then there was no going back. He should look forward but it was hard without Amy.

God, he missed his wife.

Why did Nick have everything when he hadn’t worked to achieve it? Lewis should have been going home to Amy, not living at his mum’s place.

And if he couldn’t patch things up with his wife, where would he find another woman who would understand his mood swings, help him through the bad times enough to see a hint of the good every now and then? Since Nathan had died, he’d hardly slept through a night. What effect would that have on a new relationship? It would be a shambles.

Lewis thrust his hands in his pockets, imagining how life would be if he was back with Amy and he could bond with Daniel again. He wished he shared the same simplistic outlook on life that his son did as a teenager. To Dan, everything could be worked at, or worked out.

If only.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Megan finished her shift and went into the staff changing room to freshen up. After making sure everything was still covered underneath her make-up, she added a little more lipstick and sprayed perfume liberally over herself. Smelling of disinfectant would not be sexy.

She checked her reflection one more time, and sighed. Was all this worry for nothing? If Sam did see her face, would he think less of her? Should she throw caution to the wind and see what his reaction would be?

‘No, Megan Cooper. You’re not ready for that yet,’ she chastised herself. She couldn’t risk him trampling all over her feelings.

She made her way over to the outpatients department, through the maze of corridors. There were people everywhere, following various coloured lines marked on the floors that showed the way to different areas of the hospital.

When she’d first started to work there, Megan had found herself in the wrong places for weeks until she’d found her way around. Most of the staff laughed about the made-up story of someone dying here because they’d been trying to get out for so long, and whose ghostly apparition wandered around the corridors at night. Although Megan knew it wasn’t true, it still gave her the creeps if she’d ever had to do a late shift and found herself alone in a corridor.

Sam was nowhere to be seen when she arrived at the waiting area, but before she could ask at the nursing station for his whereabouts, she heard him.

‘If you don’t want me to swear, don’t be so bloody rough.’

Megan giggled as she walked over to the cubicle the noise was coming from. ‘Need any help in here?’ she popped her head around the curtain.

‘Megan!’ cried Sam. ‘Tell him to go easy, he’s bloody killing me!’

Megan pulled the curtain aside enough to let herself in before closing it again. ‘Hi, Stu,’ she said to the nurse who was tending to Sam. ‘Is he being a baby?’

‘Do you know this guy?’ Stu raised his eyes for a moment to give her a pitiful expression.

‘Yes, we met on ward twelve.’

‘Lucky you,’ he muttered before turning to Sam with a grin. ‘Right, the dressing is a little stuck, I’m afraid, so I’ll have to pull it back to remove it. It’ll sting but it’ll be over in about a minute.’

Megan moved to Sam’s side, noticing that his top lip was split and scabbing over. She looked closer and saw the yellowy-black tinge of a bruise underneath his right eye.

‘What have you been up to?’ she asked, pointing to his face.

‘Had a fight with a wall.’ Sam reached for her hand and she gave it a quick squeeze.

‘If it hurts too much, don’t squeeze me back,’ she warned.

‘Tell him a joke,’ said Stu. ‘Take his mind off things.’

Megan frowned, trying to think of one.

Sam wriggled again as Stu pulled off the dressing. ‘Argh!’

‘Nearly there, Sam.’ Stu pried a little more off. ‘If you can’t think of a joke, Megan, sing a song.’

‘No way!’ Megan shook her head. ‘I’d have you all running from the building. My singing is pathetic. I can’t put you through that.’

‘One last bit, Sam.’

‘Argh!’

‘All done.’ Stu gently wiped a sterile cloth across Sam’s hand before inspecting it. ‘It’s looking really good. I just need you to pop down for an X-ray before you go, to make sure everything is still in place after the operation, and then we can make you some appointments.’

‘Appointments?’ Sam queried.

 ‘For more physio. The tendon is a little shorter now so you’ll need to go slow with it as it heals. Stretch and release. The physiotherapist will get you doing some different exercises to strengthen it up again.’

Once out of the cubicle, Megan and Sam went round to the X-ray room. They sat down on the row of empty seats outside.

Megan glanced at Sam, his colour fading as he stared at his hand. She wanted to ask him about the fight but could see tears glistening in his eyes.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

‘Look at it,’ he whispered, turning his hand slowly from left to right to inspect the damage up close.

Megan glanced down. The skin on Sam’s hand was wrinkled and dry, reminding her of a waxwork dummy. He had a three-inch scar but it looked to be healing well, and the scab on his index finger that had been stuck to the dressing didn’t seem to be infected.

‘They’ve made a great job of stitching the wound,’ she told him.

 ‘I look like a freak,’ he hissed.

‘That’s only because it’s been covered up with a bandage for a while. New skin needs to form as the old falls off.’ She nudged him playfully. ‘I’ll be calling you lizard man as soon as it starts to peel away.’

But Sam didn’t smile. He didn’t even look at Megan, unable to take his eyes from his hand. She wished she could think of something to say that would make him feel better.

They sat in silence, the noise of the hospital around them. When Sam eventually looked up at her, there was sheer panic in his eyes.

‘I’m going to be scarred for life, aren’t I?’ he said. ‘I have an ugly scar plus a dent where I used to have a knuckle. I can’t even bend my fingers properly to form a fist!’

‘Good. You won’t be able to get into any more fights. Not that it seems to have stopped you.’

He frowned. ‘Something needed sorting out.’

‘And was it?’

‘You should see the other guy.’

‘That’s not funny, Sam.’

There was a pause. ‘Look, I get into trouble now and then. It’s what I do.’

‘It’s what you
choose
to do.’

Another pause as Sam continued to look at his hand.

‘At least you didn’t lose your finger, like the surgeon originally thought you might have to,’ Megan soothed, realising she was judging him. ‘It’ll improve in time.’

‘So that’s okay then?’ Sam glared at her. ‘How would you know how I’m feeling?’

Sometimes Megan wanted to shake people who didn’t understand what it was like to live with scarring every single day of their lives. Annoyed by his attitude, she waited for a lady to walk past them before speaking again.

‘It isn’t the end of the world because you’ve had an accident. You’re on the mend now.’

‘I know but—’

‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself.’ She pointed along the corridor where there were scores of patients waiting to be seen. ‘Look at all these patients. They’re hurting too, but you don’t seen them whining.’

‘Whining?’ Sam recoiled. ‘You’d feel sorry for yourself if you were scarred.’

‘I am scarred!’ Megan blurted out without thinking. She looked at the floor as several people turned her way.

Sam’s brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing.’ Megan cursed inwardly. ‘Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’

‘No, tell me.’

‘I—’ Megan’s stomach lurched as she struggled with her thoughts. Maybe it would be better all round to walk away now, rather than allow herself to get any closer to Sam and risk the chance of getting hurt. But she needed to know if he would be repulsed if he saw her face without make-up. Had she been stressing too much, making a meal of it over the years, so much so that it was like having an elephant in the room?

Would it matter if he were shocked?

All of a sudden, she realised that it would.

 ‘Let me show you something.’ She reached inside her handbag and pulled out her purse.

‘Samuel Harvey!’ A door opened in front of them.

Sam stood up. ‘I won’t be long. Will you wait for me?’

Megan nodded. She watched as he disappeared into the cubicle. Running a hand through her hair, her right knee jigging up and down, she knew she wasn’t ready to show him the photo.

She stood up and walked down the corridor, out of the building and away from Sam.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Donna decided to call in to see Mary before her shift at Shop&Save started at lunchtime. Having been awake most of the night, she’d been out of the house far earlier than usual.

Driving was painful, but at least she could concentrate on something else for a little while. She’d give anything not to keep replaying what had happened to her on a loop inside her head. All she wanted to do was forget Owen, but the more time went on, the angrier she became about what he had done.

‘Hi, Mum, how are you?’ Donna asked as she let herself into the flat.

Although her hair was untidy, Mary was up and dressed and sitting in her chair. But she wasn’t talkative today. No matter how Donna tried to coax her into speaking, she wouldn’t respond at all.

She sighed. The silent visits were much worse than the ones where Mary was vocal. Dementia was such a volatile condition.

Donna moved to the window, looking across the fields. Everything outside looked so calm and peaceful. He eyes filled with tears as her thoughts returned to Owen again. How could he have charmed her – and then abused her in that way? Had she missed the warning signs, being so enamoured with him?  Had she just not been able to see what he was capable of? Or was he a manipulative, scheming, psychopath?

The phone call from him yesterday had made his words seem more of a threat. She couldn’t believe it when he’d said that she had been mistaken in thinking that it was an assault, that it was supposed to be a bit of fun. Well, she might be gullible but she wasn’t stupid. That wasn’t fun for anyone but him.