A Liverpool Song (54 page)

‘And you are cheeky.’

‘This I am knowing. I think something, I say it.’

He chuckled. ‘Am I the man with whom you will live sometimes?’

‘Yes, very much that man.’

‘I have a big bed.’ He would buy a new mattress. This was a fresh start, and several things needed to change. ‘Plenty of space and very comfortable.’

‘Then I may live with you all of the time. You would not mind this?’

‘I’d be pleased.’

‘And we still have coffee on concrete steps just the same?’

‘Absolutely.’ Their teenage behaviour amused him. Fumbling about in a car was hardly appropriate for a pensioner with a Mercedes and with a dog as witness, yet it was hilarious. And
the relief he felt was almost overwhelming, because he could function again, should be capable of living a fuller life with a lovable, amusing woman. She was delightfully different, yet very down
to earth and normal.

‘They all know we right with each other, Andrew. This is why they push to send us to restaurant. They do not understand it is different second time. We jump when young; older, we move
slower.’

‘Woof.’

‘He’s agreeing with you,’ Andrew said.

‘He like Polish sausage. This is why he agree, as dog thinks with stomach. I like him much. I never before saw a dog like this one.’

‘Nobody did. He’s definitely different.’

‘Yes. Storm ugly but beautiful, nice person.’

‘He’s not ugly; he’s a fine figure of a dog, according to Keith. He’s thinking of buying a Labrador and a French mastiff and inventing the Mastador. Or the
Labrastiff.’

‘Keith is funny. I am meeting him at funeral of your father. Says the most dangerous animals are human females in teenage. He has horses and four wolfhound, but daughters worse.’

‘His wife’s far more of a threat. She thinks she’s a cook, but he uses a lot of indigestion remedies. The girls have gone on diets. I see them stuffing their faces with crisps
and burgers or pizza near the shops on South Road. Then they go home and eat salad. Michelle can’t do much damage with salad.’

Anya laughed. He loved the sound of her laughter. ‘One more kiss,’ he begged.

‘Is difficult to stop the kissing, yes?’

‘After long abstinence, it’s very difficult,’ he replied.

‘Yes.’ His hands wandered, and she didn’t stop him. But the phone did.

‘Richard? What is it? Is everyone all right?’ He paused. ‘Yes, I see. What?’ Again, he listened. ‘I’ll drive home. Don’t phone Helen, because it’s
best I deal with her face to face. Yes. Yes, she’s been through a lot lately. Bye, Richard.’

Anya stared at his profile. ‘Andrew? Something bad happening?’

‘Daniel’s been in a nasty accident just outside Chester. He must have gone for an extra session with one of his therapists.’ Andrew turned and looked at his companion.
‘We must go now, Anya. I have to tell Helen.’

‘Yes, of course. Will he die?’

‘No idea. But there’s a lot of damage. He’s losing blood and he has broken bones.’

‘You can mend the bones. Was your job, the mending bones, yes?’

He shook his head sadly. ‘No, I can’t treat my daughter’s husband – it would be unethical and against the law. But I can be there in theatre if I act pushy and lean on my
OBE. They know me, anyway. Fasten your seatbelt, because we have to get back.’

Helen would blame herself. As he drove homeward, Andrew imagined her reaction to the news. Had she forced herself to forgive, had she persevered with mediation, this terrible thing would never
have happened. If God could forgive, why couldn’t she? Helen was often too hard on herself. If one of her children became ill, it would be her fault; if a house set on fire, if a meal were
spoilt, if furniture got scratched, it would be down to her.

Anya was quiet throughout the journey. She had always thought of Daniel Pope as a bad man, since he had tried to interfere with Sofia, but she wished this kind of ill on nobody. Why had this
happened? According to Daniel and his lovely wife, one failed breath test should mean a lifetime ban, though he had possibly forgotten his rules once the stress of probable divorce had kicked in.
But what had he been doing in Chester?

‘Are you praying?’ Andrew asked, watching her twisting a rosary on her lap.

‘Yes. You don’t mind?’

‘No, I don’t mind. Say one for Helen, because she’ll need God on her side to help her through.’

‘And for you. For all of us I am asking.’

He pulled into the drive and sat still for several seconds. He was almost sure that his younger daughter would fall apart when she heard the news. There was a fragility in Helen, a sensitivity
that put Andrew in mind of his own mother. ‘I hope she doesn’t get destroyed by this, Anya.’

‘There is strength in her, Andrew. From what Eva is tell me, Helen has power in her soul, deep down where we not see. He will not die. He must not die. Come. I am with you now.’

As they walked into the house, it occurred to Andrew that Mary hadn’t entered his mind for a couple of hours. And he didn’t feel guilty. Yet.

Richard took absolutely no notice of anyone. He marched through A and E with certainty in his stride, because as a lawyer he had to appear confident. But in aged jeans, a
creased shirt and trainers, he didn’t look exactly ready for court. He found the coloured line on the floor that led to resus and walked straight into a small anteroom.

A policeman at the other side of the door stopped him. ‘And who might you be, sir? You can’t go through the inner doors, sorry.’

‘Richard Rutherford, barrister. Next of kin to Daniel Pope. Is that him in there?’ He peered through scarred plastic in the upper half of the second pair of doors.

‘Come outside, please,’ the constable said.

Back in the main thoroughfare, the officer spoke in low tones. ‘The lad who caused this was as drunk as a lord and in a stolen car. According to witnesses, the collision was virtually
head-on. He paid for it with his life, and his two friends are suffering from all kinds of injuries and alcohol poisoning. If Mr Pope dies, it will be manslaughter, but there’s no one we can
charge.’

Richard’s legs suddenly weakened.

‘Whoa.’ The uniformed man held him and called for a chair. ‘And some sweet tea,’ he ordered.

‘Is he in a bad way?’ Richard managed.

‘Well, his heart stopped twice for lack of blood, but they managed to jump-start him. Broken legs, broken arm and ribs, suspected damage to his spine. I’m told they had to drain his
chest. But he’s strong. His pupils are the same size as each other, so his head seems OK. We can only leave them to it. They’re pumping all kinds of fluid into him.’

Alone on the hard chair, Richard drank his tea and waited for Helen to arrive. He hated sugar, but this was medicine, and he needed to be in one piece for Kate’s sister’s sake.
Behind him in resus, they were clearly still working on Daniel to hold him together until he became stable enough for surgery.

The constable returned. ‘You all right, sir?’

‘How’s he doing?’ Richard asked.

‘Well, I’m no expert, but the monitor sounds steady enough. They’ve not needed to put the jump leads on him a third time. Is he a jewellery Pope?’

Richard nodded.

‘Isn’t it a family business? What about his mam and dad?’

‘No idea. There’s a rift, a big one. I understand that Daniel’s left the firm and is starting his own business over the water.’

‘Wirral?’

‘Yes. I suppose they should be told, but when this fellow regains consciousness, he won’t want them here. And if they come, they might set him back. Daniel’s wife’s on
her way now, and he’ll definitely want to see her. They’ve been separated for months, but I haven’t told you that. He’s made me next of kin, though I’m not a blood
relative. He and I married sisters, you see.’

The policeman tutted. ‘Bit of a bloody mess in more ways than one, then.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, they’re doing their best; four are with him now, and others keep coming and going. I heard them say his heartbeat was picking up and his blood pressure’s crawling
towards normal, so fingers crossed.’

Richard was left alone once more to wait.

There was advice tacked on the walls: how to deal with strokes, the dates and locations of baby clinics, pleas for organ donors and a staff noticeboard advertising accommodation to let and cars
for sale. But there was nothing up there about making Daniel live.

And in a few hours, Richard had to be wigged, gowned, briefed and in court. Oh, it was a grand life, especially for poor Daniel Pope.

Helen surprised both Andrew and Anya. Clearly shocked, she braced herself against the wall and nodded. ‘Right. We must go to him. Anya, will you stay with Sofia and the
children? And ask Sofia to phone Professor Brooks before ten in the morning. My lectures must be cancelled.’ She walked upstairs.

‘She not running,’ Anya said. ‘Very quiet.’ Andrew kissed his companion on the top of her head. ‘Stay here till we get back, please. It will probably be tomorrow.
Look after Sofia and my granddaughters, and I’ll let you know as soon as I find out what’s happening. And . . . thank you for this evening.’

‘You welcome. You easy man to love.’

His heart lurched, but he had no time to examine personal feelings. Helen was descending the staircase. ‘Come along, Dad. Let’s see what he’s been up to this time.’

They left the house and sat in the car. ‘My problem will be solved if he dies,’ Helen said, almost in a whisper.

‘But you don’t want that.’

‘No.’ She fastened her seatbelt. ‘No matter what, I still love the fool. It’s not unconditional love, but it’s still a big part of who I am. Will he die?’

Andrew offered no answer.

‘Dad, will Daniel die?’

‘I don’t know. He had to be cut out of his car, but that’s just about the extent of my knowledge. There are broken bones, and he will have lost blood. Beyond that, I’m in
the dark.’

She clutched her handbag tightly. He glanced down and saw white knuckles pressing hard against skin. His poor daughter was holding herself together by sheer willpower. ‘We’ll soon be
there,’ he said.

‘Through the old tunnel?’

‘Yes, that’s right. Try to relax, Helen. I know it’s not easy, but by fair means or foul, I’ll get into that theatre and make sure they do their best. Trust me; I’m
your father.’

When they reached the Countess of Chester, Helen escaped while her dad was looking for a parking space. Like Richard, she ignored everybody and found the right department. A physically powerful
woman, she passed her brother-in-law, fought off the constable and opened the inner doors. ‘Daniel!’ she screamed. ‘Don’t you dare die on me, you damned lunatic. I love you,
Pope. I love you.’

The policeman dragged her out. She should have been one of those female wrestlers, because she was as strong as a horse. He handed her over to Richard, who was now upright and full of sugar.
‘Sit on this woman, sir. If she does that again, some very ugly security men will deal with her. Most of them are ex-coppers, so they’re bad buggers.’

A nurse emerged. ‘Mrs Pope?’

‘What do you want?’ Helen was in no mood for politeness.

‘He heard you and opened his eyes, managed to say he loves you too.’

Helen slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Richard brought a chair and helped her into it. This was the stronger of the two sisters, and he had wondered about that for long enough. Madam
Helen was a powerhouse. Kate was quick-tempered, quick to love, quick to anger. This tall little sister of his wife’s had a core of steel covered by a thick coating of gentleness.

She looked at the nurse. ‘Will he live?’

‘Er . . .’

‘WILL HE LIVE?’ Helen screamed. A sudden, short-lived stillness hit the whole area.

‘He has a good chance, Mrs Pope. We’re going to put him in the lift from resus straight up to theatres. Would you like to come in again? You can lean on me. Ah.’ The nurse
looked at a newer incomer. ‘Mr Sanderson? I remember you from the Royal. Orthopaedics?’

‘Yes. Helen’s my daughter.’

‘Then you help her. Follow me.’

Father and daughter stood one each side of the trolley. She held Daniel’s undamaged hand as he was pushed towards the lift. His eyes were on her and only her. Then, just as he went into
the lift, he begged his father-in-law to stay with him. So Andrew Sanderson, retired orthopaedic surgeon, ascended with his least favourite son-in-law up to theatres. ‘Go back to
Richard,’ he urged Helen before the automatic doors closed.

The nurse remained with Helen.

‘That’s my husband’s blood on the floor, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but spilt blood always looks more than it is – you lose a pint and it lands like a gallon. Come on. Sit with Mr Rutherford.’

Helen allowed herself to be led and deposited next to her sister’s husband.

‘I’ve signed some papers,’ he told her. ‘For the surgical procedures. I’m down as next of kin since he divorced his mother. His legs are broken, and he’ll
need metal plates and what have you.’ He didn’t need to give her the full picture; splinters of Daniel’s bones together with some flesh were probably still attached to his car.
‘It wasn’t his fault, Helen. A drunken kid pinched a car and died in the almost head-on collision. Daniel’s alive due to the fact that he drives an Audi – good protection.
Even so, he’s taken some punishment, because the lad was doing about seventy miles an hour and most damage was done to the driver’s side of Daniel’s car.’

Helen stared at the floor. ‘Is his spine affected?’ she asked in a whisper.

‘Not sure. Look, I’m going outside to phone Kate. Can I get you anything? Tea, glass of water?’

She shook her head.

‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

He phoned Kate. ‘Sweetie, find somebody – anybody – from Chambers. Let them know what’s happened and tell them someone will have to take over, or the case must be
postponed. It should be a short session tomorrow, I imagine, just details and come back Monday. Daniel’s bad, baby. As far as I can work out, there are bits of him in the car, and his right
foot’s almost severed. But your dad’s in theatre supervising.’

‘Oh, my God. And Helen? How is she?’