‘Laura!’ Sophie leapt up, pushed the mug away, causing dollops of tea to explode upwards, and ran into the hallway but, just through the door, her ankle failed her yet again. The already-startled police officer turned from looking up the stairs, dropped his phone and caught Sophie as she stumbled towards him. He lowered her onto the floor as his colleague hurried to help.
‘I’ll go up, Pete,’ said Officer Browning. ‘Sophie, let Officer Clark take you back to your chair. Shall I bring Laura downstairs?’
‘Yes. Please.’
Suzie Kay hurried into the hallway clutching a tea towel. ‘There’s a baby?’
‘I forgot about her.’ Her eyes wide with desperation, Sophie watched Officer Browning disappearing up the stairs, Officer Clark checking his phone and retrieving her gardening scissors from beneath the radiator. ‘Suzie, I forgot about her.’
‘No, you… You’ve had a bad shock.’ Suzie helped lead Sophie back to her chair.
‘I’d get them to look at that ankle,’ said Officer Clark, returning to the hall to communicate this latest development.
Sophie clutched at her stomach. ‘What if I’d gone in the ambulance and she’d been left on her own?’
Suzie Kay crouched down and took Sophie’s hands in hers. ‘You mustn’t think such things. She’s called Laura, right? What a lovely name. How old is she?’
‘Eleven months.’ Sophie took a deep breath. ‘Jonah wanted her to be called Laura. It was his mother’s name.’ She could feel Suzie Kay’s fingers touching hers. Clean and soft. Her own fingers were still covered in a film of pulped tomato leaves. ‘She needs her lunch. My hands are filthy.’
‘I’ll get a cloth. Are you still feeding her?’
‘Only before bedtime.’
Suzie Kay fetched a damp cloth, waited as Sophie wiped her hands and exchanged it for some kitchen towel.
Sophie looked up into Suzie’s dark brown eyes. ‘Jonah was leaving me,’ she said. ‘When will I know what’s happening?’
‘They’ll let you know.’
‘What about his ear? It was lying in the road. And some of his hair.’
‘Yes, I… They can stick ears back on. It’s just skin and cartilage.’
‘Are you a nurse?’ said Sophie, grasping at the possibility of things returning to the way they were.
‘No. But my mum had a dog with a stitched-on ear.’ An abrupt, nervous laugh. ‘I work in a travel company. In Guildford. This is my day off.’ She glanced up. ‘Here comes Officer Browning with your baby.’
With Suzie Kay’s help, Laura was lunched and settled in her playpen in the lounge. The two officers stepped in to join them. ‘Mr Royston has been transferred to Southampton General,’ explained Constable Clark. ‘He’s being taken straight to theatre. Transport is being arranged, Ms…?’
‘Denham. Sophie Denham.’
He nodded. ‘I’ve explained that there’s a young infant involved. Do you have a child’s car seat that can be transferred? Social Services are unable to supply one at such short notice.’ He handed her Jonah’s car keys. ‘Mr Royston’s car has been parked in the back road. In the correct permit zone. There doesn’t appear to be a child seat inside.’
‘Perhaps you have another car?’ suggested Officer Browning.
‘I don’t drive. Jonah always removes her seat in case he has to pick up equipment. It’s in the kitchen.’
Constable Clark turned his attention to Suzie Kay. ‘Ms Kay, if you would be so good as to provide a statement, you can be on your way.’
Suzie Kay disappeared into the kitchen with the two officers, and for the first time since Jonah’s disastrous exit, Sophie was alone with her daughter. She watched the little girl chewing her sock, oblivious to the unfolding crisis. Only this morning she had been living her normal life, with her ordinary parents living together, like ordinary parents do. And now this. She had no way of understanding the changes this day had forced upon her innocent world. Even if they mended Jonah’s skull, sewed his ear back on and he made a complete recovery, he’d decided to leave them. He’d found someone else. They must have been meeting up for weeks – maybe months – Jonah and this other woman. Spending carnal lunchtimes at her place. Sweaty hotels. Then coming home as if everything was normal. Admittedly, he’d complained about her reduced libido since Laura’s birth, about her getting up in the middle of the night to check Laura was still breathing, but things had been better lately. At least she’d thought they had. She glanced up as Suzie Kay stepped into the room.
‘Sophie, would you like me to come to the hospital with you?’
Sophie longed to say yes, but this poor woman had already been exposed to enough of her catastrophe. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll phone my friend. She lives in Portsmouth. She’ll probably drive over. But, thanks for everything.’
‘Glad I could help. Look, this is my mobile number.’ She handed Sophie a business card: Horizon Luxury Travel Services. Suzannah Kay – Consultant. An additional telephone number was scribbled along the bottom. ‘Call me if you need to talk, OK?’
The two officers confirmed that Sophie’s transport would arrive within the hour, then left to confront another of those aberrant things that the police spend their days dealing with. Sophie thanked Suzie once again then hobbled to the front door to watch her cross the road and disappear into the everyday crowd. Things outside seemed to have returned to normal. The petrol tanker was gone and the traffic lights were executing their usual routine, directing cars whose drivers knew nothing of the events barely two hours before. There was nothing that might indicate Jonah’s exit and subsequent misfortune other than some pieces of broken headlight and a few sweepings of sand, cleared into the gutter along with any remaining traces of Jonah’s blood and lorry driver’s vomit, waiting for time to wash it all away. Sophie experienced a stultifying wave of nausea, steadied herself against the doorframe, turned to retreat into her hallway and caught sight of a man loitering by the students’ front window. He was tall, lanky in fact, stooping the way some tall people do, apologetic about their height. He had a buckled wheel in one hand; his other hand was resting on the saddle of a one-wheeled bicycle. He was wearing a crumpled linen suit, light grey, a navy T-shirt, trainers, a bike helmet and bicycle clips. He nodded apologetically as she caught his eye.
‘I’m waiting for my brother. The police said the people here were away so… I hope your husband is all right.’
‘They’ve transferred him to Southampton. I’m waiting for transport to take me there. An hour, they said.’ She noticed the man’s left eyebrow was red and swollen, forcing his eye to be half-closed. Another wave of nausea rippled through her. ‘Were you hurt?’
‘Went over the handlebars.’ A half-smile. ‘Bit of a crash landing. Punched myself in the eye.’
‘Oh, did the paramedics see to you?’
‘I told them I was OK.’
Sophie wrung her hands a little, uncertain how to end the conversation, uncertain as to whether she ought to end the conversation. Whether she wanted to end it. If it ended, she would have to go back inside and be alone. Close the door against the sand in the gutter. And wait. ‘Will your brother be long?’ she said.
‘He has to pick his sons up from Summer Club. He said he’d be here by five.’
‘That’s ages. Do you want to come inside while I wait? I don’t suppose anyone will steal your bike if you leave it there.’
He looked uncertain.
‘I could make a quick cup of tea.’
‘That would be great. If it’s not too much bother.’
‘It’s no bother. And I could do with the company.’
Sophie tried not to limp as she led the man through her hallway. She wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, asking a stranger into her house. Particularly a tall, broken stranger carrying a bent bicycle wheel, and wearing bicycle clips. But anything was better than being alone. And besides, she’d left the front door wide open. So, she could see her transport arrive… and possibly so that she could grab Laura and make a dash – a limp – for it.
‘The name’s Sam,’ he said. ‘Sam Barnes. Did you hurt your foot?’
‘I twisted it. Before the accident. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I’m Sophie.’
He followed her into the kitchen, dithered for a moment then propped his wheel against the back door and removed his helmet. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make the tea.’
He stepped past her and picked up the kettle and, as he did so, Sophie caught a hint of his aftershave. Fresh and a little spicy. Jonah never used aftershave. Just an electric razor, bland soap and unscented deodorant. And toothpaste that smelled of nothing. She sat down and watched Sam Barnes filling her kettle. ‘I’d better fetch the baby. Laura. I need to get her ready to go to the hospital. I don’t know how long I’ll be there.’
‘Ages, probably.’ He glanced back along the hallway. ‘Where is she?’
‘She’s in the lounge. In her playpen.’
‘Are you OK carrying her? With your ankle like that? Do you want me to fetch her? I’m not too mucky. And I’ve had loads of practice.’
‘Do you have children?’
‘Just my brother’s two. I’ll go get her, shall I? Then I’ll have a look in your freezer. See if I can find a quick fix for your ankle. Before your lift arrives.’ He loped off and returned moments later, carrying Laura and a large, floppy blue bear. ‘She was just dozing off. The bear wanted to come too.’
‘She doesn’t usually like strangers.’
‘Sensible girl.’
Laura seemed quite happy to be fixed into her highchair by this tall man. She clutched her bear and watched Sam Barnes make tea, hand her mother a mug, then root around in the freezer. Sophie also watched him. She noticed he was in the habit of running his fingers backwards through his blond hair in order to push it away from his eyes. He clearly needed a haircut and possibly a stylist. Jonah had always disapproved of poor grooming.
‘OK!’ he announced. ‘Would you prefer petit pois or Brussels sprouts? For your ankle. It’ll reduce the swelling. Have you got a clean tea towel?’
‘In the bottom drawer. Petit pois, please.’
‘In that case, do you mind if I take advantage of your Brussels sprouts?’
Sophie laughed, in a way she’d thought she never would again. She watched him wrap the packet of peas and hand it over. She leant forward and touched it against her ankle and shuddered at the sudden cold. She watched him fold the sprouts into another tea towel and hold it against his temple, lowering himself into a chair and sighing with relief. And there they sat, opposite one another across the kitchen table, sipping tea and indulging Laura, with their various swellings being reduced by a vegetable medley. And time passed. And during that passing time Sophie experienced whole periods of not hearing the sound of fracturing bone repeating itself. She asked him about his brother’s children.
‘Jesse’s wife died five years ago. The kids were really small. I’d just come back from Hong Kong and I didn’t have a job so I put off finding one and looked after my nephews.’
‘Have you got a job now? I mean, are you still…?’
‘The boys are both at school now. So, I’ve gone back to teaching. North Surrey Uni. English. That’s what I was doing in Hong Kong. I’m part-time so I can fit in with the boys’ school times. And clubs. Obviously, today has had to be the exception.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Consequences. ‘I did Biological Sciences at uni. But I never thought of teaching. Before Laura was born, I was working in Communications at Portway Biotech. I’m supposed to be going back in September. Jonah’s a computer engineer. He has his own company.’
‘Blimey. That sounds impressive. Did you say “Jonah”?’
‘Yes, like the man who lived in a whale.’
He picked Blue Bear off the floor and handed it to Laura. ‘I always wanted to teach. And you know what they say: Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach. Fortunately, I couldn’t do anything else. So, my choice of career was literally a no-brainer.’ He checked his watch. ‘When did they say your lift would be here?’
‘An hour. I’d better be getting ready. My ankle feels much better now.’ She lifted her ice-pack and got to her feet. ‘How’s your eye?’
‘OK, but I’ll probably have a hell of a shiner by the morning.’
‘Hell of a shiner? My granddad used to say that.’
He smiled. ‘I’m a bit of a crime fiction buff. Especially the post-war stuff. People were always waking up with a hell of a shinerin those days. Although please don’t tell the Head of English that I’m a secret wannabe detective. Especially a nineteen-fifties detective. I’m not supposed to stoop lower than the Bard.’
‘Don’t worry, Sam. Your secret’s safe with me. Would you keep an eye on Laura while I collect her things? She seems to have taken a liking to you.’
Sam Barnes watched Laura while Sophie fussed around getting ready. Then he plucked up his bicycle wheel and hovered awkwardly beside the sink. ‘I hope it all goes OK. I think there’s a car pulling up outside. I’d better get back to my bike. Jesse won’t be long now.’
Sophie’s stomach churned as she collapsed back into the day’s trauma. She wanted to say to Sam Barnes why didn’t he wait inside and just pull the door closed behind him when he left. But that would have been ridiculous. Trusting her house to a stranger. Perhaps he would accidentally leave the door open and when she got back she’d worry there was someone inside the house, hiding upstairs.
‘Thank you so much for waiting with me,’ she said instead. She wanted to tell him to call round sometime. For a cup of tea. But that would also have been ridiculous. And inappropriate.
Suddenly a police officer was standing on the top doorstep. ‘Apologies for the delay, Ms Denham. I’m Sergeant John Wilkes and this is PC Tyler.’ Sophie could see an unfamiliar female officer standing beside a police car that was parked immediately outside. Right where Jonah’s car had been earlier. ‘Mr Royston was transferred to Southampton General and is currently undergoing surgery.’
‘I thought Social Services were taking me.’
‘Social Services have been unable to locate a driver at short notice so we’ve undertaken to drive you there. Perhaps clear up a few details on the way. If I might have the car seat? That is assuming you have not made alternative arrangements for your daughter.’
Sophie frowned. ‘What details?’
Officer Wilkes presumed to step inside. ‘Mr Royston had no documentation on him at the time of the accident.’ His tone was almost accusatory. ‘We were hoping you might have access to his driving licence or passport. Some record of his national insurance number?’
‘I think Jonah keeps his licence and insurance papers in the car. But I’ve no idea where he keeps his passport. He was in Latvia for four weeks recently. Perhaps he keeps it in his business premises. I don’t remember ever seeing it.’
Sergeant Wilkes did not respond. He just gave Sophie one of those policeman looks that made her feel she might have committed some felonious act that had temporarily slipped her memory. Sam Barnes took a step forward to stand beside her. ‘I’m a close friend. Samuel Barnes. Is there some kind of problem, officer?’
Sergeant Wilkes glanced at Sophie. ‘Nothing for Ms Denham to worry about, Mr Barnes. Probably an administration glitch. But, in the absence of documentation, the hospital has been unable to locate any of Mr Royston’s details: his blood group, any existing medical conditions.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And, there appears to be nobody by the name of Jonah Royston registered as living at this address.’