12

 

Patrick watched her go and closed his eyes.

Lord, I don’t understand this. I’m losing her all over again and I’m responsible either in part or in whole for her loss of faith and the way she’s changed. I know I still love her and that I never stopped loving her. I’ve been hiding in my work for years now, trying to fill the gap she left in my life and not succeeding. Seeing her again has shown me this.

God, if it’s Your will, please work things out between us. Help me to show her that whatever she’s done or thinks she did, isn’t unforgivable and it’s possible to repair her relationship with You. She needs You, the same way I do. She needs the same forgiveness You granted me, so that she can move on.

Pulling out his phone, he sent a text to DI Nemec. He wanted everything the bloke had on Foster and he wanted it yesterday. All of it. If Elle was related to him…

He stood and began the process of locking up the house. He wasn’t going to fail at protecting her a second time.

Looking back, he could pinpoint the one single moment, one choice that had changed his future. Not a bad choice at first, he’d had all the right intentions, but one choice in particular that had snowballed. Everything had changed after one weekend. If only they hadn’t gone to that party.

Memories haunted him.

 

****

 

Lights and loud music blasted from the house as Elle parked. Patrick smiled at her. “See we made it. No more cats or logs.”

She pulled a face at him. “You sure this is a good idea? There doesn’t sound like there is much studying going on to me.”

“Maybe not right now.” He jumped out. “But I’m sure there will be. The grounds will be big enough for us to find somewhere quiet. Unless you’d rather go home.”

“No.” She pulled out the keys, sounding decisive for the first time since they’d left. “I crashed on the way here as it is. I don’t want to drive all the way home right now, thank you very much.”

“All right, then we stay.” Patrick pulled the bags from the boot. Elle took hers and slid her hand into his as they crunched over the gravel to the front steps of the house. He rang the bell.

Garth smiled at them. He wore swimming trunks and his hair dripped onto his bare shoulders. “Hey guys. Glad you could make it. I put you both in the green room. Top of the stairs, turn left, then take the first hallway on the right. The doors are all labeled.”

Elle didn’t move. “Us?” she whispered.

Garth nodded. “You’re a couple, so yeah. We’re all sharing rooms. The bed’s made up. We’re out by the pool.” He jerked his head towards the back of the house. “Dump your stuff, change if you want to get wet and come join us. Just follow the music.” He headed back inside.

Elle took a deep breath. “I can’t share a…”

Patrick squeezed her hand. “I’m not asking you to share a bed with me. I thought Garth might pull a stunt like this, so I brought my sleeping bag.”

“OK.” It sounded like an automatic response. The shock on her face telling him this was about as far from all right as they could get.

She followed him along the ornate hallway, with its patterned carpet to the door with their name on a card. The bedroom itself was huge, with deep pile blue carpet and massive paintings on the wall. A four poster bed took up space in the center of the chamber. An en-suite bathroom opened off to one side.

Patrick put his bag on the floor. “See, there’s loads of space. A couple of pillows and I’m set.”

“I’m not sure about this.” Her hands shook as she put her bag on the bed. Her voice wobbled and she shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “They’ll all assume we’re sleeping together and…”

“I don’t care what they think. We know the truth and that’s all that matters.”

She nodded slowly.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I love you. Don’t ever forget that.”

She rested her forehead against his. “Love you, too.”

The party was in full swing by the time they reached the pool. Huge lights both inside and outside the water lit the area, music blasted from the speakers and smoke rose from the burgers sizzling on a barbeque.

Elle hesitated. “I don’t know…”

“Let’s just go mingle for a few, then find a quiet spot somewhere and study. We should at least stay long enough to eat something and be polite. And if you’re still not comfortable with this in the morning, we’ll make our excuses and go home.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey, Eleanor.” One of the girls waved at her.

Patrick smiled. “Go say hi and I’ll get you some juice.” He watched her cross slowly to the other side of the pool and sent up a prayer for their safety.

He’d had a bad feeling since they left home. A warning bell had gone off in his head when Elle crashed. Another one at the shared room. And now a further one as he looked at the drinks table covered in alcohol of all kinds. They should leave now.

Garth grabbed his arm. “Come and play pool.”

“I was going to take Elle something to drink.”

“I’ll do that while you break.”

“Sure. One game” He looked over at Elle, but she seemed content, laughing at something one of the other girls had said. He headed in the direction Garth indicated.

One game turned into two, before he managed to get back to Elle. She was leaning against the bar, hair across her face, her skin flushed. Her eyes were sunken as she looked at him. He’d been to enough student parties in his time to recognize the effect of alcohol.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. Thought you were sticking to the juice tonight?”

“Hey you…” Her words slurred into each other.

He looked around for Garth, seeing him over by the pool. “I’ll be right back.”

He crossed swiftly over to Garth. “What did you give her?”

“Just something to relax her, man. To relax all of us. I put vodka in the punch. She never knew what hit her.” Garth laughed “Anyway all that booze she drank will make it easy for you tonight as she didn’t seem too keen on sharing a room with you.”

Patrick lashed out hard and fast, his fist connecting with Garth’s face, sending him flying into the pool.

Garth came up, arms flailing, spluttering. “What was that for, man?”

“You figure it out.” He went back over to where he’d left Elle. “We should go home.”

“I got a better idea,” she whispered, running a hand down his face. “How about we just go upstairs?”

“Sure, you can sleep this off, and I’ll drive us home in the morning.”

He led her inside, worry gnawing at his stomach. She didn’t drink and it wouldn’t have taken much to affect her, but this was just way off the scale. What else had Garth slipped in the punch?

“You are one very good looking man, Patrick.”

“That’s very kind of you to say so.”

He got her up the stairs, into the bedroom, and shut the door. He turned and Elle was there. Her fingers running over his chest, unfastening his shirt buttons.

He stilled her hands. “Elle, no. Not like this.”

She kissed him. “Please, I need you to show me how much you love me.”

He picked her up and laid her on the bed. “You need to sleep this off.” He pulled off her shoes and covered her. “Night.”

He made a hasty retreat across to his sleeping bag.

“Patrick…” She reached for him. “Please.”

Another alarm bell rang in his head.

“Patrick...”

Fighting the desire tugging at him, he remained on his sleeping bag on the other side of the room. “Go to sleep, Elle.”

 

****

 

Just after seven in the morning, Patrick sat at the table, files spread out in front of him. He was no closer to finding out why Foster was involved and it was more than a little irritating. It was possible he wasn’t the person who’d sent the threat, and it was pure coincidence Elle had received the letter from him on the same day. He glanced up as Elle came into the room. “How’s Abbie doing?”

“Not good. She’s complaining her arm hurts, but she’s curled up tightly, rubbing her stomach.” She sat down. “Can we get a doctor out to see her?”

“Of course we can.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Actually, didn’t the doctor at the hospital say to take her back if she wasn’t feeling good?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. “Then we’ll do that.”

A panicked cry came from upstairs. “Ellie….”

As one, Patrick and Elle ran into the hall. Patrick got there slightly before her. He glanced up the stairs. Abbie stood at the top, bright red blood soaking the front of her clothes. Her good arm clasped tightly around her stomach.

A gasp came from behind him. “Abbie…”

With a small whimper, Abbie bent over, vomiting a stream of red blood onto the carpet.

Patrick glanced at Elle. “Grab a bowl from under the sink. We’ll take her to the ED.” He took the stairs two at a time and picked up Abbie, heedless of the blood covering him. “Shay!” he yelled. “Need you now.”

Shay came out of her room. “What the dev—” She took things in with a single glance. “I’ll drive.”

Patrick nodded. “We’ll call it in on the way to the hospital. We don’t have time to wait.” He gently cradled Abbie as he headed back down the stairs.

“Abbie, I’m here,” Elle said touching her arm.

“Scared, Ellie.”

“I know, me too. But the doctor will make you better.”

“Let’s go,” Patrick said. He left the house, myriad thoughts running through his mind and none of them good.

Arriving at the ED, he and Elle got out and ran into reception. Prepared for a fight once again, he was relieved when the receptionist took one look at him.

“I need a doctor out here now,” she yelled, as Abbie leaned over the bowl again.

A doctor immediately appeared. Patrick recognized Dr. Peterson from the previous day.

He focused on the girl. “It’s Abbie, isn’t it?” he asked.

Abbie nodded. “I’m scared.”

“I know. It’s all right to be scared. We’ll find out what’s wrong and fix you. Bring her through.” He led the way into the Resus department.

Patrick laid her on the bed. Then he stepped back as a team of medics descended.

One of the nurses spoke to Elle, trying to get information from her but she wasn’t willing to wait, demanding to be allowed to stay with Abbie.

“She was in here yesterday?” the nurse asked.

Patrick slid a hand into Elle’s and squeezed it. “She’s in good hands,” he said. “Just tell the nurse what she needs to know. They can’t help her without knowing what ‘s going on.”

“She was admitted yesterday following a car accident. She said her stomach hurt a bit last night, and she didn’t eat anything. This morning she said the pain was worse so we were going to bring her in, but before we could leave she started throwing up blood.”

“And Abbie is thirteen?”

“Yeah, she’s fourteen in January.”

“It says here that her mother…your mother died in the accident yesterday. It could be a bit sticky getting permission unless your mother gave you—”

Elle caught her breath, her whole body stiffening. “No, I can sign whatever forms need to be signed. That isn’t going to be a problem at all.”

“Maybe you don’t understand. Abbie is your sister. You can’t—”

Eleanor held up a hand, cutting the nurse off, and gazed up at Patrick for a long moment. Then she dropped her hand and looked back at the nurse. “I can. Abbie is my daughter, not my sister.”

Patrick’s heart stopped. He twisted to look at her. Elle’s insistence on wanting to see Abbie, her reaction when Abbie went missing and over the accident yesterday, all slotting into place. “Your daughter?” he echoed.

“Yes,” Elle repeated. “My daughter.”

“Miss Harrison?” Dr. Peterson called.

Elle let go of his hand and moved over to Abbie. “I’m here,” she said.

“Ellie…”

Patrick digested the information while Abbie’s blood soaked into his clothes making them stick to him. He kept watch on the figures by the bed, not listening to what they were saying, his mind in turmoil.

Abbie was Elle’s daughter.

Everything had changed. Whatever the reasons, it was essential the medical staff, and his boss, knew this turn of events. He moved over to one of the nurses and pulled out his ID. “I need to speak to whoever’s in charge here.”

 

****

 

Patrick stood to one side as Elle signed the consent forms for surgery if that was deemed necessary, and stood silently as the nurses wheeled Abbie away, closely followed by Shay. Abbie was already sedated. It had been horrible watching her go under the anesthetic.

He glanced down his chest at his blood stained clothing. He probably looked as bad as he felt. His emotions were all over the place. But however bad he felt, Elle must feel a hundred times worse.

He walked over to her and took her hand. “Where are they taking Abbie?”

Elle blinked hard, and wiped at tears. “She’s going for a CT scan to find out what’s going on. Then, if need be, they’ll take her straight to surgery to try and stop the bleeding. The doctor said it’ll be a couple of hours before they know anything. Then they’ll take her to intensive care. They said Shay can stay with her the whole time. Even in the theater if she scrubs up and stays out of the way.”

“How are you doing?”

“Scared.” She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Terrified. I feel sick, my stomach’s in knots. She’ll need some things…”

“I’ll take you back to the house.”

“Thank you. You can change as well.”

He glanced down at himself and grimaced. “Yeah, I will. Elle, there’s something I need to ask.”

She shivered, almost as if she knew what he wanted to ask. “Go on.”

“We need to talk about what you told the nurse about Abbie being your daughter?”

She nodded. “Yes. But, this isn’t the place for this conversation.”

“I disagree. But if you prefer we can have it back at the house.” That wasn’t what he wanted, but he knew not to push the issue right now. She might clam up completely. He led her outside and over to the car.

Neither of them said anything on the drive to the house. Once inside, Elle ran upstairs to gather Abbie’s things. All the blood had been cleaned up, proving Nahum could work fast when he put his mind to it. But Patrick was relieved that there were no visible signs of Abbie being taken ill so violently.

Patrick quickly changed then crossed into Abbie’s room. He paced back and forth across the carpet, watching Elle as she packed, trying to find an easy way of saying what he needed.

“Abbie is your daughter?” He asked as he reached the window again.

“You sound like a broken record. You’re also going to wear out the carpet. Sit down.”

He leaned against the window sill, hands gripping the edge of it. “Talk to me, Elle.”

She took a deep breath and shifted. “Yes, Abbie is my daughter.” Her apparent unease grew, the pupils in her eyes constricting and her voice wobbled.

His mind ran fit to burst, doing the math in his head. Whichever way he looked at it, the figures added up to only one conclusion. “She’s thirteen? Almost fourteen?”

Elle nodded slowly, shoving things into the bag. “Yeah, her birthday is January twentieth.”

“That would make it… Is that why you didn’t return after the Easter break?”

She hesitated for a long time, before finally looking up. “Yeah, it is. I couldn’t do both.”

“Is she mine?”

She stood up and walked to the window, her hands clenching and unclenching. He watched her, knowing she was wrestling with something.

Unable to sit and wait any longer, he stood. “For Pete’s sake, Elle, it’s a simple question. Is Abbie my daughter?” He voiced the question he hadn’t wanted to ask.

“I want to go back to the hospital now. Abbie’s alone and I need to be with her.”

“I’m assuming no?”

“I can’t talk about this. Just take me back to the hospital.”

“With pleasure.” He shook his head. He’d find out the truth one way or the other. This wasn’t over by a long shot. Had she betrayed him? Been seeing someone else at the same time? Surely if Abbie was his, Elle would have told him. She knew how much he loved her. He would have married her on the spot despite any opposition from her parents.

And surely she’d have answered his question as well. He’d asked outright several times and she’d brushed him off. What other secret was she hiding? If not him or another bloke, then who? The idea was almost too painful to bear. He had to get out of here, get his head around this and to do that he couldn’t be anywhere near Elle for at least an hour, if not more.

He pulled out his phone, dialing quickly. “Nigel, its Patrick. Can you do me a favor? I have somewhere I need to be for the next hour or so.”

“Sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Pick Eleanor Harrison up from the safe house on Brook Street and take her to Headley General. Her daughter is in ITU. Shay will meet you there.”

“On my way. Give me ten minutes.”

“Thanks.” He hung up. “Nigel will take you to the hospital.”

“You’re not coming?”

He didn’t bother to hide the betrayal in his voice. “Not yet, no.”