The French Retreat (Falling for France Book 1) (11 page)

Will interjected. ‘She is feeling much better.’

‘
Très bien
,’ said the doctor. ‘We will take the drip away now. Fluids are a good level.’ He flicked the page on the notes. ‘Your wife has a … erm … virus, perhaps. Maybe like the flu. I think she can go home with antibiotics. It is not serious.’

‘Great news,’ said Will.             

‘I will arrange for medication.’ The doctor smiled and nodded towards Fatimah before leaving the room.

Will let out a sigh of relief. ‘We’ll be out of here soon,’ he said. ‘I’ll just give Marcie a call to let her know what’s going on. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Will went out into the corridor and took his phone from his pocket.

‘
Monsieur
.’ Will looked up as a nurse emerged from the room opposite. ‘
Portable. Par ici
.’

She was shaking her head and pointing towards his mobile. Will got the message and headed outside to make the call.

Frustratingly, he couldn’t get through to Marcie’s phone. He checked his phone which appeared to have good reception. The problem must be at Marcie’s end of the line. He sent a text instead, hoping that would work.

As Will walked back into the building via the reception area, something made him take a second look at the desk.

‘Shit,’ he muttered to himself as he recognised the navy blue uniform. A Gendarme was standing at the desk speaking to the receptionist. A feeling of unease kicked in Will’s stomach. What were the police doing here?

Will kept his eye on the Gendarme as he waited for the lift doors to open. The receptionist was now making a phone call. The lift arrived with a ping and Will stepped inside, impatiently hitting the first floor button several times. As the doors closed, the Gendarme turned around, his gaze resting on Will. The other man’s eyes narrowed. The doors closed and the lift travelled upwards.

Will walked calmly towards the ward, pressing the bell to be let back in. Inside his heart was beginning to pick up the pace. It took another press of the bell, this time rather more insistently before he heard the click of the lock being released.

He stopped at the desk, noting the wariness in the nurse’s eyes. ‘Has the doctor given my wife her medication?’ he said. The nurse looked blank. ‘Medication for my wife?’ Will pointed to a plastic medicine cup on the desk and then towards Fatimah’s room.

‘Monsieur Adams.’ Will turned to the voice behind him. It was the doctor. ‘I have given your wife the antibiotics.

‘Good. We need to go,’ said Will.

‘No, Monsieur,’ said the doctor. ‘There is some paperwork to complete. You must wait.’

Will didn’t miss a look pass between the doctor and nurse. He responded calmly. ‘Okay. I’ll wait with my wife.’

‘That will be good,’ said the doctor. ‘Thank you. I will try to make it quick.’

Will forced himself to walk casually back to Fatimah’s room. He paused at the door and glanced down the corridor. They were watching him. Will raised his hand and smiled before going in. He slid the blinds closed on the door.

‘Fatimah,’ he said striding over to the bed. ‘Where are your tablets? Medication?’

She pointed to a box on the bedside cabinet. Will grabbed the box and shoved it into his pocket.

‘What is happening?’ said Fatimah sitting herself up.

‘We need to leave. Now,’ said Will. He drew the curtain around the bed and pulled Fatimah’s clothes from the cupboard. ‘Get dressed. Quickly.’

Fatimah’s eyes opened in alarm. ‘Now?’

‘Yes. I’ll explain later. Just do it.’ He darted out from the curtain and went over to the door. Tilting the blinds he peered down the corridor. He could just see the desk. The doctor was still standing there but several nurses were scurrying around, closing doors to the other private rooms up and down the corridor. Another patient was being hurried back to his room.

‘I’m ready,’ said Fatimah. ‘My legs are not good.’

Will looked over his shoulder. Fatimah was holding onto the bedside table. She was still very weak and wobbly. ‘Can you walk?’

‘A little.’ She took slow steps over to him.

‘We just need to get to the car,’ said Will. ‘We’ll have to risk it. Hold on tight to me. When I say go, we move straight away. We’re going to go right and take the fire escape. Understand?’

Fatimah nodded.

Will watched through the blinds as the corridor’s flurry of activity died down. He guessed they were clearing the way for the Gendarme to come up so it wouldn’t cause any distress to the other patients.

Will went over to the window and looked down at the road below him. Fatimah’s room was situated directly above the main entrance and Will had a clear view of what was going on.

‘Fuck,’ he said out loud as he clocked a police van pulling up alongside the police car that was already there. Ben had been right when he said Yves may only be a farmer, but his family connections made him a very powerful man. This most definitely was overkill for a kid who had pinched a chicken and a mother who was just trying to find a safe place to live. The local police clearly meant business. Will knew he couldn’t wait any longer. ‘Time to move,’ he said to Fatimah.

He opened the door a couple of inches so he had a better view. The desk was empty. Will opened the door fully and stepped outside. He beckoned to Fatimah and supported her under the arm. Propelling her forwards, Will steered Fatimah to the end of the corridor. He had already noted the door wasn’t alarmed and pushed against the bar.

A rush of cold December air blasted their faces and Fatimah caught her breath. They stepped out onto the landing of a wrought iron fire escape. Will took off his jacket and put it over Fatimah’s shoulders.

‘Watch your step,’ he said as they began their descent down the rear of the building. It took longer than Will would have liked but eventually they reached the ground. Keeping close to the wall, Will peered round the corner. He could see the empty police vehicles. All he had to do now was get Fatimah across the road and into the car park where the MPV was waiting.

Chapter Eleven

Marcie managed to cobble together something resembling lunch after finding a tin of soup in the back of the pantry. It wasn’t much and although Asif gobbled it down, he didn’t gesture for any more. It was with some sadness that Marcie guessed he was probably used to going without meals.

After this morning’s run-in with Yves, Marcie was on edge. She was terrified the policeman would come back again, more determined to find Asif or to question her about kicking Yves. She simply couldn’t risk going out and leaving Asif on his own. Her phone was now broken completely. The screen had turned black and although she had charged it, nothing had changed.

Marcie found something on the television for Asif to watch and sat down on the sofa next to him. There was nothing she could do except to sit and wait for Will to come back, hopefully with Fatimah.

Will knew time was against them. As soon as the hospital staff realised Fatimah was gone, which would probably be within the new few minutes, the police might come after them. He hoped, however, they might decide they had better things to do. As they reached the car, Will blipped open the door with the remote key. Opening the rear door he practically lifted Fatimah into the middle seats.

‘Lay down,’ said Will grabbing a travel rug from the rear seat. ‘The police will be looking for two people travelling together,’ he paused and looked at Fatimah. The poor woman had already been through more than any person should in their life. ‘Trust me,’ he said. He gave Fatimah’s hand a squeeze and then pulled the blanket over her head.

He shivered as he jumped into the driver’s seat. The grey clouds above began to shed their load and small flakes of snow fluttered down. Will started the engine and pulled out of the parking bay, taking a quick glance at the entrance to the hospital where all seemed quiet. He was glad the MPV was left hand drive and had French plates, that way they would be harder to spot. He drove steadily out of the hospital grounds.

Once further down the road, he threaded his way through the town and out onto the back road towards The Retreat.

Will tried Marcie’s mobile again, he desperately needed to get hold of her. He was concerned the police might turn up at the cottage before he got there. Still he couldn’t connect to Marcie’s phone. Then he remembered the house phone. Frustratingly, he had never saved the landline number to his mobile.

With one hand on the steering wheel and one eye on the road, Will used his phone to Google The Retreat. The link to the website came up and he tapped on the blue writing with his thumb.

The website took a while to load but gradually the image filled the screen. The telephone icon appeared and Will pressed the link. He knew he only had a few minutes before he would be driving through a wooded area where he would probably lose signal for a time.

‘Come on, Marcie,’ he urged. ‘Pick up the sodding phone.’

‘Hello?’ came a wary voice at the other end.

‘Marcie, it’s Will. You ok?’

‘Am I pleased to hear your voice,’ said Marcie. ‘How’s Fatimah? Are you on your way back?’

Will interrupted her. ‘Stop a minute,’ he said. ‘Listen. The police came to the hospital. I’m pretty certain they’re after Fatimah.’

‘How did they know she was there?’

‘I passed Yves in the road yesterday when I was taking Fatimah to the hospital. I had to swerve to avoid hitting him,’ said Will. ‘He’s certainly got some powerful friends. I can’t believe they’re going to so much trouble for a mother and son.’

‘He’s been round here this morning,’ said Marcie.

Will could hear a small crack in her voice. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Put it this way, he’s going to have one hell of a bruise on his shin,’ said Marcie. ‘How far away are you?’

‘About ten minutes, fifteen tops,’ said Will. ‘We need to sit down and work out what we’re going to do. Fatimah says she has a sister in England. She got as far as here before she ran out of money. And luck.’ Will felt the anger in his stomach flare again at what Fatimah had been through. He swung the car left onto another road. Marcie was speaking but he could only hear every other word before there was a buzz of interference and the line went dead. He dropped the phone onto the seat between his legs and accelerated down the tree lined road.

Marcie heard the car pull up into the drive and rushed to open the door. The tyres cut a track through the thin layer of snow that had settled.

‘Come inside, quickly,’ said Marcie as she helped Fatimah out of the car. Asif burst from the doorway of the farmhouse and raced to his mother, bundling into her, nearly knocking her off her feet. Marcie smiled at Asif. ‘I told you mummy would be back.’

‘I’ll park the car in the garage, out of sight,’ said Will. ‘Keep your fingers crossed the snow will keep falling and cover our tracks.’

Marcie settled Fatimah in the living room in front of the fire. Asif was practically glued to his mother’s side, not wanting to leave her.

‘It’s freezing out there,’ said Will. He stamped the snow from his boots on the mat.

‘I made some coffee,’ said Marcie placing the
сafetière
on the kitchen table. ‘There’s no milk, I’m afraid.’

‘That’s okay. A strong shot of coffee will do me good,’ said Will.

Marcie sat down at the table next to him. He looked tense. The relaxed Will she had seen more and more of in recent weeks had disappeared. ‘I’ve been thinking about what to do,’ said Marcie.

‘Join the club,’ said Will.

‘I’ve worked it out, though,’ said Marcie. ‘I take Fatimah and Asif with me to the UK. There’s an overnight crossing from Caen. If we leave within the next hour, we can get there in time.’

‘How do you intend getting them through customs?’ said Will. ‘You’re not really going to smuggle them in on the back seat of the car, are you?’

‘Actually,’ said Marcie, ‘that’s exactly what I intend to do.’ She looked Will straight in the eye.

‘It’s too risky,’ he said. ‘What if you get caught?’

‘I’m not thinking about that,’ said Marcie.

‘Well, you should,’ said Will. ‘It’s bloody irresponsible and reckless.’

There was a hint of unease in his voice, an uncertainty Marcie hadn’t heard before. ‘What choice do we have?’ she said calmly. ‘If we can make it through French customs, then whether we get stopped in the UK is neither here nor there. Once we’re in England, Fatimah can apply for asylum.’

‘I don’t like it,’ said Will. ‘I don’t think you should go on your own. I’ll come with you.’

‘You can’t,’ said Marcie. ‘Much as I would love you to, someone’s got to stay here to look after Poppy.’

Will swore under his breath. ‘We’ll take her with us.’

‘We haven’t got time. She needs to be seen by a vet and have her pet passport stamped. It’s Friday night, there aren’t going to be any vets open at the weekend.’

Will ran his hand through his hair. ‘I still don’t like it,’ he said. ‘Ben will go ape when he finds out. He’ll bloody kill me for letting you do this.’

‘Don’t worry about Ben,’ said Marcie. ‘His bark is worse than his bite. He’ll understand.’

‘What are you going to do with them once you’re in the UK?’

‘Take them to my flat and then try to track down that sister you mentioned.’

‘You’re making it sound very easy,’ said Will. ‘You know if you get caught smuggling her in to the UK, you’ll end up getting arrested.’

‘It won’t be the first time,’ said Marcie. She knew this wasn’t a great time to mention the job interview but she had no choice. She put her hand on Will’s arm. ‘I’ve got to go back to England anyway. I’ve have a job interview.’ She searched Will’s face for any hint of a reaction but he remained impassive. Marcie continued. ‘I can’t stay here forever. I love it here and I love being with you but, at some point, I’ve got to get back to real life. I wanted to tell you earlier but I didn’t know if I was actually going to go back. Things have moved on a bit the last couple of days.’

‘You can say that again,’ said Will. He let out a long heavy sigh. ‘You do what you have to do,’ he said.

‘Why don’t you come back to England?’ said Marcie. The thought of leaving and not seeing Will again was another harsh reality.

Will leant over and kissed her. ‘I can’t. The dog. Remember?’

‘I meant when Ben’s back here, why don’t you come over to England then?’ said Marcie.

Will shook his head. ‘Why don’t you come back to France instead?’

‘It’s not my home,’ said Marcie. ‘Ben might have been able to relocate, but I’m not so sure I could. Besides, I’d still need to earn a living. I can’t do that here.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Will. ‘I’m being selfish. It’s wrong of me to expect you to make any life changing decisions, based on knowing me for only a couple of months.’

‘There’s nothing to stop me visiting for weekends,’ said Marcie. She knew she was clutching at straws. Long distance relationships were hard to maintain. People started off with good intentions but enthusiasm soon waned.

‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Will. His voice was soft and there was a sadness in his eyes. Who were they trying to kid? They both knew it wouldn’t work. They were both just paying lip-service. Will stood up. ‘I suppose we’d better run this by Fatimah before we get carried away with the escape plan.’

As Marcie got up to follow Will into the living room, the house phone rang.

Marcie picked up the phone from the table. ‘Hello.’

‘Marcie? It’s Ben.’

‘Hi, Ben, how are you? How’s Lisa’s mum?’ said Marcie, she grimaced in Will’s direction.

‘Never mind all that,’ said Ben. ‘I’ve had Monsieur Dechamps, the mayor from the village, on the phone to me. You know the one who’s Yves’s brother-in-law?’

‘Ah, Yves,’ said Marcie. ‘About him ...’

Ben cut in. ‘Apparently you’re harbouring a couple of illegal immigrants who have been stealing from the neighbours. He said something about you and Will getting into a fight with Yves.’

‘It’s not how it sounds,’ said Marcie. ‘I can’t explain now but trust me, I … we … haven’t done anything wrong. We’re just trying to help out a woman and child.’

‘So it’s true? For Christ’s sake, Marcie, what have you got yourself into now?’ said Ben. ‘You don’t want to go upsetting the locals. I still have to live there. And Yves of all people. He has zero tolerance on just about everything. He’s never been keen on us being there in the first place. It’s taken a lot of hard work to win him over.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Marcie, wincing at her brother’s tirade.

‘You were supposed to be in France getting yourself out of trouble, not finding more,’ said Ben. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘I haven’t got time to explain right now,’ said Marcie. ‘I’m coming back to the UK. I’m borrowing your car.’

‘Marcie!’ The exasperation in her brother’s voice was clear. ‘Where’s Will? Let me speak to him.’

‘Please, Ben. I promise I’ll explain everything when I see you.’

‘When exactly will that be?’

‘I’ll be arriving in the UK this evening. Come to my flat tomorrow.’ She spoke fast, not giving her brother chance to answer. ‘I’ve got to go. Bye.’ She hung up to the sounds of Ben muttering something about her and trouble going hand in hand.

‘That went smoothly, then,’ said Will as Marcie came into the living room.

‘He’ll have calmed down by the time I see him,’ said Marcie. She looked at Fatimah and Asif and smiled. ‘Did Will tell you what we want to do?’

‘Yes. You are very kind but I have no money,’ said Fatimah.

‘Don’t worry. I have money,’ said Marcie.

‘One day I will return the money,’ said Fatimah. ‘I promise.’

‘Okay, one day,’ said Marcie although she had absolutely no intention of making Fatimah fulfil that promise. ‘Now, I’ll go on-line and book our ferry tickets.’

‘Have you any way at all of contacting your sister?’ said Will.

Fatimah shook her head. ‘No. She will be very worried about us.’

Will frowned. ‘Is she on social media? Facebook? Twitter? Anything like that?’

‘Er, yes, Facebook. I too but without my phone …’

‘It’s okay, we can use my account,’ said Marcie. She didn’t really want to reactivate her account. The thought of seeing all those horrible messages she had received about her protest march, didn't exactly fill her with joy.

‘Are you sure?’ said Will.

‘Sticks and stones,’ said Marcie. ‘Besides, putting up with a few nasty comments is nothing compared to what Fatimah and Asif have endured. I’ll close it again once this is all sorted out.’

Will gave a nod of approval. ‘Quick as you like,’ he said.

Marcie went over to Ben’s computer and logged onto her Facebook account. Ignoring the red notification box with some twenty-two alerts, Marcie, under guidance from Fatimah, searched for her sister’s page. It didn’t take long.

Asif had been watching the proceedings and as the image of his Aunt appeared on the screen, he excitedly called out her name, pointing at her profile picture. Marcie clicked on the message icon and quickly sent Fatimah’s sister a message.