Uncaged (11 page)

“Not a chance. The next time Keller may not be around with his good sense and instinct for self-preservation.”

Despite her good resolutions, she was jerked out of her composure. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, Megan. Wise up. Why do you think he made you return Tommy? He’s got his career to think of, hasn’t he? He wants to get back into the force. He’s not going to do that by helping you evade the law.”

She managed to say, “Trust you to search for the worst in everyone.”

“It’s seldom necessary to search very far. I can see through a man like Keller better than you can. I knew what he wanted from you the day he came here. I’ve seen enough men slaver over you to know the look.”

“You encouraged men to slaver over me when it suited you,” she snapped.

He acknowledged this with a shrug. “Well, you encouraged Keller when it suited you. I don’t blame you. It was common sense. But if you don’t mind my giving you a little belated advice, you should have held out a little longer. He’s had what he wanted by now, hasn’t he? So why should he put his neck in the noose for you? I expect he told you returning Tommy was the best way to get him back in the long run, when your name’s cleared. But just how close is he to clearing it? Not very close, is my guess. You should have kept him on the hook until he’d fulfilled his side of the bargain. It’s too late now. Goodbye. Don’t call again.”

Before she could stop him, he shut the door in her face. Megan stood staring at it, feeling her body turn to ice. It couldn’t be true. Daniel could never be as calculating and cynical as Brian suggested. That was just Brian’s evil mind seeing everyone in his own light. But his accurate assessment of how Daniel had persuaded her touched a nerve.

Slowly she returned to the car and got in beside him. “Shall we go for a drink?” he asked.

“No, just take me back to the boarding house,” she said quietly.

Daniel gave her a sharp glance, alerted by her tone, but he didn’t say anything. Throughout the journey Megan sat in terrible brooding silence. She’d been a fool. Tommy had been there in her arms, and she’d given him back. Suddenly the ache of deprivation was with her again, a thousand times worse than it had ever been, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out a reproach.

When they reached the house, she said good-night quickly and got out of the car, plainly not wanting to see any more of him that night.

But Daniel followed her inside. “I have to talk to you,” he said firmly. Ignoring her look of displeasure, he followed her up the stairs and into her room.

As soon as the door was closed, she turned and confronted him. Her face was calm but pale, and closed against him. “Please, Daniel, there’s nothing to say. I know that...technically...you were right. Let’s leave it at that.”

“But you’re not leaving it at that, are you? In your heart you still condemn me.”

“All right,” she flashed. “There are some things that might be technically right—and wise, and clever, and sensible—but a man with an ounce of feeling still couldn’t bring himself to do them.”

“A man with an ounce of feeling wouldn’t let you run off with Tommy and get yourself into the kind of trouble that would mean you might never see him again,” he said deliberately.

“He’s my son,” she cried passionately. “It’s as though he’s been dead, and I got him back. I held him in my arms flesh and blood. He was real—not a dream or a shadow, but real—and you took him away....” Her grief made the words pour out almost incoherently.

As always, her pain devastated him. He reached out and took hold of her. “I want to get him back for you, but that’s not the way,” he said, trying to soothe her.

“It’s not the legal way, and the legal way is the only way that counts—isn’t it?—you...you
policeman.
”

He ignored the insult and pulled her close, trying to kiss her face, her tears, but she twisted away from him, pushing him back so hard that he staggered and lost his balance, almost falling to the floor. “Don’t touch me,” she said hoarsely. “You were right, and I was wrong. There, I’ve admitted it, so everything’s nice and tidy for you, isn’t it? You’ve stopped me from breaking the law, and you’ve saved yourself from being implicated, and they’ll remember that when they come to let you back into the force.”

She hadn’t meant to say those last cruel words, and she was shocked at herself when she saw the effect they had on him. His face actually went gray. “Is that what you think, Megan?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know, Daniel. You tell me what to think.”

He shook his head. “That’s just what I can’t do.”

Without another word, he turned and went out.

M
egan listened to Daniel’s footsteps going down the stairs. She knew she should run after him and apologize, but her limbs seemed to have turned to ice. Her legs gave way, and she sat down suddenly on the bed, burying her face in her hands, wondering how she could have been so wicked as to hurt him. She’d repeated Brian’s malicious accusation mindlessly, as though her ex-husband was a man to be respected, when she knew better. She’d accused Daniel of being heartless, forgetting that his own son was dead, and he understood her feelings better than anyone.

At last she moved her hands away, and realized that she was staring at Daniel’s wallet lying on the floor. It must have dropped out when he nearly fell, and neither of them had noticed. Swiftly Megan snatched up the wallet and hurried out in pursuit, but she was only just in time to see his taillights vanishing into the distance. She looked frantically up and down the street. As if in answer to a prayer, Bert’s cab pulled up to the curb. He started to get out, yawning. “End of another shift, thank goodness,” he said.

“Bert, I need your help,” she pleaded.

“Have I got to get back into that car?” he asked.

“Please. My friend’s gone off without his wallet. I have to catch him.”

“All right. Get in.”

She got in beside him and said urgently, “You can just see him in the distance.”

Bert started up and managed to get a little nearer to Daniel’s car, but without warning they found themselves in heavy traffic and it was impossible to get really close. “Football match,” he said laconically. “The crowd’s just come out.”

“Can’t you catch up a bit more?” Megan pleaded.

“It’s as much as I can do to keep him in sight.”

Suddenly Megan gave a little gasp of relief. “What’s the matter with me? I’m panicking for nothing. I know where he lives. We can just go straight to his house. We might even get there first.” She gave Bert the address.

“Are you sure?” Bert asked, frowning.

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Well, he’s taking a funny way home, then. He’s just turned left at the traffic light. If he was going where you said, he’d have gone right.”

“But I know I’ve got the correct address.”

“Perhaps he’s not going home, then?”

“At this time of night? He must be.”

Bert cleared his throat awkwardly. “There isn’t another lady in the picture, by any chance?”

“No, there isn’t,” she said crisply.

“All right, I only asked.”

But as the journey continued, it became clear to Megan that Daniel wasn’t going home. He was going somewhere else that he’d never told her about. A faint frisson of unease went through her. Of course she had no right to know every detail of Daniel’s life. It was just...

It was just that he’d seemed so completely absorbed in her and her problems, as though the two of them existed in a world apart, that it came as an unpleasant shock to discover that this was an illusion. That was all it was, of course. She’d simply lost her sense of proportion. It was none of her business where Daniel was going. “Step on the gas,” she said tersely. “Don’t lose him, whatever you do.”

For the next fifteen minutes they wove in and out of traffic in a way that put all Bert’s skills to the test. At last, to their relief, they saw Daniel turn in through a pair of iron gates. A car cut across, forcing them to delay until he was out of sight, but when they were able to follow, they found a long drive leading to a large house. Daniel’s car was parked at the bottom of a flight of broad steps, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Shall I wait?” Bert asked. “Or will he bring you home?”

“I’ll manage, thanks, Bert. Go home to bed. How much do I owe you?”

She began to take out her purse, but he growled “Get out of here” and quickly drove off.

She ran up the stairs and through a set of double doors, coming to a halt in a hallway. “Can I help you?” asked a young woman behind a desk.

“Can you tell me what this place is?” Megan asked, bewildered. She’d rushed in too fast to take much notice of details, but now she realized that this wasn’t a private house but some sort of official building.

“This is Netherham Hospital,” said the young woman.

“A hospital?”

“How did you get here if you didn’t know that?”

“I followed Mr. Keller. He left his wallet behind.”

“Oh, he’s just down that corridor with his son.”

Megan stared. “His son? But I thought his son was dead.”

The receptionist sighed. “Well, he might as well be. The injuries he sustained in the accident healed long ago, but he’s never awakened.”

“He’s been in a coma for three years?” Megan asked, thunderstruck. She repeated to herself,
Three years.
She pulled herself together. “How often does he come here?”

“Several times a week,” the receptionist said sympathetically. “There’s no set pattern, because of his job. Although...” She lowered her voice. “Although I understand he’s lost his job, so he might have to take Neil away, poor man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, the fees of this place are sky-high. I don’t know how he’s managed them. Look, I shouldn’t be gossiping about him like this—”

“Go on,” Megan said urgently. “There are things I need to know.”

“Well, between you and me, he’s sometimes been a bit late with the payments, but he’s always managed it in the end. But now...well, all that trouble, being thrown off the force—you know...”

Megan moved aside out of the light, but it was clear the receptionist hadn’t recognized her. “I’d heard something,” she agreed cautiously.

“Wasn’t that a terrible thing to happen to him? Everyone here loves that little boy so much, and if he has to take him away—well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Sometimes he stays at Neil’s bedside all night. It must be heartbreaking for him. The child doesn’t know he’s there, but he never gives up hope.”

Megan could hardly speak. “Which room did you say?”

“Just down there. Number 15. But look, I’m not sure I should let you—”

“It’s all right,” Megan said. “I’m his friend. At least, I thought I was.”

She made her way cautiously down the corridor until she came to Number 15 and peered through the window in the door. At first she could see little, for the room was only dimly lit. Then she made out the bed with the small form lying on it, the dark head motionless on the pillow. Beside the bed, his back to her, sat Daniel. He was hunched forward and even at this angle Megan could tell that his eyes were fixed on the child with a terrible anguish that blotted out everything else in the world.

Nobody knew that anguish better than herself, and tears started in Megan’s eyes as she contemplated the hunched figure, sitting in lonely faithfulness by the child who was oblivious of him. She pressed closer to the glass, holding her breath. Then Daniel turned and saw her.

She was horrified at being discovered like this. For a moment he just stared at her, as if he couldn’t believe the evidence of his own eyes. Megan quietly opened the door and stepped inside. “Megan, what are you doing here?” Daniel’s voice was controlled, but he sounded uneasy.

“You left your wallet behind,” she said quickly, “and I followed you with it. I didn’t catch up until we reached here.”

He took the wallet she handed him. “I see. Thank you.”

“I wasn’t prying, Daniel, truly. But you don’t want me here, do you?”

He seemed to answer with an effort. “Why should you say that?”

“Because you didn’t tell me your son was still alive. When we talked the other evening you let me think he’d died with your wife.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose, it’s just...” He shrugged. “I find it hard to speak of him at all.”

“And after the dreadful things I said to you tonight—”

“That doesn’t matter. You were overwrought. I’ve forgotten it already.”

But she could feel that he was still keeping her at arm’s length, and suddenly it was terribly important that he allow her to come close. Summoning all her courage, Megan closed the door behind her and went over to the bed. A child lay there in complete stillness. His face looked as if it might once have held mischief, but sleep had wrapped him in a protective blanket, keeping him apart from the world. “He’s been like that for three years,” Daniel said bleakly.

“He looks as if he’s only just dozed off,” Megan said.

“I know. That’s the hardest part. It doesn’t look like a coma at all. I keep expecting him to open his eyes and say ‘Hello, Daddy.’” Daniel’s voice grew husky on the last words.

“I wish you’d told me about him,” Megan said. “I might have been more understanding. I’ve thought of little except my own troubles.”

“You’ve had plenty of those. You were entitled to think of them.”

“But not entitled to forget that other people have troubles, too,” Megan said.

“Perhaps he’s part of the damage I’ve done,” Daniel said somberly. “In those first weeks after the accident I should have spent more time with him, talking to him, trying to call him back to life. If I’d done that, instead of trying to prove how on top of everything I was, I might have spared you a tragedy, and he— Well, who knows what might have happened?”

“Daniel, don’t torment yourself with ifs. You think if you’d talked to him then he might have come round, but he probably wouldn’t. If he’s been asleep this long it’s because he needed to be.” She had no idea whether this was true or not, but she was saying anything that might help him.

“Perhaps. I don’t know. I only know that I’ve become...well, superstitious is the word, I suppose.”

“How do you mean?”

“My arrogance and stupidity in working when I wasn’t capable lost you your son. Perhaps it lost me mine, too. I should have been here. And I can’t get it out of my head that if only I can restore Tommy to you, then maybe...maybe—” He couldn’t finish but his eyes were on the terribly still child, and his hand groped for Megan’s. She twined her fingers in his and held him tightly. “Just silly superstition,” he said after a moment. “I know you think what I made you do tonight was very hard, but I didn’t have an ulterior motive, Megan, I swear I didn’t. Anderson would have moved heaven and earth to have you put back in jail.”

“I know,” she whispered. “Tommy saw it before I did. He trusted you at once.”

“Tommy and I are going to get on well.” Daniel gave a sigh. “If only I could find the way through to Neil.”

“Don’t you talk to him now?”

Daniel hesitated. “I sit with him,” he said at last, “but I don’t talk much. I don’t know what to say anymore.”

“What about the things you shared? If he can hear you, he’d surely like to remember those?”

“But they were all so long ago.”

“I don’t think that matters. If memories are all you have, then you should make the most of them. Didn’t you use to do things together?”

“Yes, plenty.”

“Fishing, and such like?”

“Yes, we did that. And mechanical things, too. He was very mechanically minded—”

“
Is
mechanically minded,” Megan corrected him gently. “You should never say was. He’s only asleep, Daniel. And someday he’s going to awaken.”

“Is he? Or am I deluding myself with false hopes?”

“I used to think that, but my false hopes became true hopes. It
can
happen. But you have to believe in it.”

“But how do I go on believing in the face of nothing? No response at all, nothing.”

She gave him a sad little smile. “The same way that I went on believing in the face of gray walls.”

He searched her face as she said this, and he saw no trace of the bitterness that had once been in her eyes when she spoke of her prison sentence. It was gone now, replaced by a gentle sympathy. She’d called up her own tragedy not to reproach him but to give him hope, and it was this, more than her words, that acted on his spirit, reviving his courage.

“Talk to me about Neil,” she said. “Tell me about how mechanical he is.”

Daniel began, stumbling a little until he got the hang of it. “He could always mend things better than I could—plugs and stuff. You’ve seen the room with the audio-video equipment. That was—
is
—our room. When we’d read instructions he always understood them before I did and explained them to me sometimes. And he was only seven.”

“That’s incredible,” she said encouragingly.

“He used to laugh at me because I was so slow—but kindly. He was—
is
—a very kind boy.”

“What’s he like with a computer?” Megan asked.

“A wizard. You should see him, Megan.”

“Ah, but can he program a video recorder?” she asked, suddenly inspired.

To her delight, Daniel caught the ball she’d tossed and ran with it. “Can he...? Can he program a video recorder? I tell you, the video isn’t made that can defeat this boy.”

Megan took a calculated gamble. Turning to Neil, she spoke directly. “Then you’d better awaken soon and show the rest of us,” she said, risking a touch of comedy. “I know you can hear me. Think of all the things you’re missing. They’re bringing out new machines every day. You could be using them.”

“On the day you come out I’ll buy you the best computer in the business.” Daniel took up the theme. “We’ll learn it together. We always did things together, didn’t we? And we’ll do them again.”

Neil lay without moving. Not by so much as a flicker did he show any response. Daniel’s shoulders sagged. “He can’t hear me,” he said wearily. “I’m just fooling myself.”

“Then fool yourself,” Megan said urgently. “Fool yourself as I did during those years I was telling myself I was bound to be set free eventually. Fool yourself, and go on fooling yourself if it’s the only way to hang on to your belief. Sometimes only the fools are wise.”

Then Daniel did something that brought an ache to Megan’s throat. He looked down on the still, pale figure on the bed and held out his hand. “Put it there,” he said. And he himself lifted the lifeless little hand to hold in his great fist. “That was what we used to do,” he explained to Megan. “It was our way of saying we were close...that we understood each other...that we l—” His voice trailed away.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Megan said, and quietly left the room.