Once the hospital had run their tests and concluded that Barnett had a heart like an ox, which made sense considering the size of the body he had to power, they gave him the thumbs-up to go home.
Barnett’s vehicle was still up at HQ, so Gardner offered to drive him.
‘No,’ Barnett said. ‘I’m fine. Take me back with—’
‘Not on your life,’ Gardner said, pinning her debit card to the reader on the parking machine before plucking her ticket back out.
Barnett shook his head. ‘Don’t do this… boss… come on. If this was Phil, he’d be demanding I go back to work, not sending me home!’
‘But I’m not Phil.’ Thankfully. ‘And I’m glad you’re fine, Ray, but I’m not. Neither are most of your colleagues. You’re a rarity in that place in that you’re quite popular. You scared the living shit out of me and everyone else.’
‘It was a bloody panic attack. Haven’t you ever had one?’
‘Not one that put me in hospital.’
Barnett sighed loudly. ‘Cam overreacted!’
‘Like I said, testament to how much he likes you! Anyway, the doctor said you need to rest. This argument is not rest.’
‘They always say to rest.’
‘For good reason.’
Communication ended abruptly when they stepped outside. The wind was bracing, and both ducked their heads beneath hoods as they shuffled through slush and snow to her vehicle. They shivered in the stony silence as Gardner whacked the heat high and negotiated the barrier out of the car park.
Gardner was desperate to know what had triggered Barnett’s panic attack, but she didn’t want to prod him too much. It was clearly something significant. It’d brought him to his knees – literally! Last thing she wanted to do was trigger another episode. HR would not be best pleased with her choice of actions. Neither would Barnett, who she considered a friend and a colleague.
Annoyingly, he was probably making her wait on purpose, because of how pissed off he was with her.
‘Okay, can I come back in the morning?’ Barnett said.
‘The doctor said twenty-four hours—’
‘Oh, for pity’s sake, boss! Bloody doctors. I don’t trust them, anyway!’ Barnett said.
‘Many people don’t trust us,’ Gardner said.
‘Thinking about some people I’ve worked with, they’re probably right not to.’
‘Is someone at home with you?’
‘Yes, my father.’ Barnett sighed.
‘Well, don’t be keeping this from him,’ Gardner said. ‘Talk to him.’
The smirk and shake of his head suggested that he probably wouldn’t.
Gardner pulled up outside Barnett’s home.
He looked at her. Come on. Speak! He knew full well what he was doing.
‘Anything you need to ask?’
‘What do you think?’
‘I can’t believe you just managed the entire journey without asking me… Phil would’ve asked me while they were still running the tests!’
‘Your health is more important to me.’
‘Good answer.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Helping Hands was the name of the homeless shelter before 1991, when the council ran it. After the council relinquished control in 1991 and KYLO Ltd took it over, they released James Sykes from employment and changed the name to Bright Day. My mother…’ Barnett broke off and looked away.
It really is personal. No wonder the panic attack. ‘In your own time, Ray.’
Eventually, he looked back. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. ‘It’s nothing I’m ashamed of… don’t get me wrong… but I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t bloody hard. I…’ He rubbed at the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.
She reached over and put her hand on his shoulder.
He took a deep breath. ‘Before I was born… my mother was there, boss. She was homeless, and she was there. At Helping Hands.’