Follow Me Home (38 page)

‘She's a nightmare sometimes. Who'd have children?' Emily stops abruptly. ‘I'm sorry, sis, that was—'

‘It's fine,' I say quickly, determined that nothing will spoil the day.

The scent of buddleia is heavy in the air and the shadows of several pigs snuffle about and snort in the dark, the light of the moon catching their backs and the metal curves of the roofs of their arks in the paddock behind the gate. There's the sound of footsteps and someone swearing lightly as they trip into a flowerbed.

‘Who is that?' Murray says.

‘It's all right.' I recognise Leanne's voice. ‘It's just us.'

‘The bar's back that way,' Murray chuckles.

‘I don't think they were looking for the bar,' Emily says.

‘Is that you, Harry?' I say, catching sight of the best man's face as he moves into the light, his shirt undone and looking worse for the wear.

‘We thought we'd get some fresh air,' he says.

‘Sure,' I say.

‘We believe you. Thousands wouldn't,' Murray says ironically.

‘Oh, leave them alone,' Emily sighs as he sings the first few lines of ‘Love Is in the Air'. ‘Goodnight, Zara.' She gives me a hug. ‘Goodnight, Lewis.'

‘Goodnight, Emily.'

‘Where's Poppy?' Lewis asks.

‘She was right here just now,' Murray says.

‘Poppy, come here!' Emily calls, her voice strained. ‘Where are you? We're going home.'

‘I'm not going home!'

I follow the sound of Poppy's protestation, catching sight of her running towards the road. My heart misses a beat, but it's all right because it's late and there's no traffic, except I can hear the distant hum of a car heading this way.

‘Poppy!' Emily screams, as Lewis and Murray start to run after her. ‘Stop right there!'

Poppy hesitates and, for a moment, I think she's going to turn back.

‘No!' she screams back, and sets off again, straight into the road. All I can see are headlamps illuminating a tiny girl, suddenly turned to shadow as somebody throws themselves at her. All I can hear is the car skidding to a screeching halt some way down the road before a scream, a thud, then nothing apart from what feels like an endless, empty silence before Emily runs forwards, crying out, ‘Poppy! Oh no, Poppy!'

I will never forget my sister's screams as Murray intercepts her and holds her back. He looks at me, his eyes crazed with fear.

‘You look. I can't,' he says, his voice breaking.

I bite my lip, afraid of what I'm going to find because it's obvious now that Lewis is involved. Both the men ran after Poppy, but he was the one who got to her.

My heart is pounding as my feet scrunch across the stones to where the driver of the car is already out, shining a torch onto the far side of the road, where a figure is struggling to get up. Lewis is still with us, but what about Poppy? Where is she?

‘Stay there, sir,' the driver orders. ‘Let me have a look at you and the child before anyone moves.'

I recognise the voice. It's Ben, Dr Mackie. I catch sight of gleaming ringlets of hair draped across Lewis's arm while, behind me, Emily is still screaming for her baby. I cross the road, forcing myself to look, and at that moment, Poppy opens her mouth and cries. My body floods with relief. She's alive, at least.

I call for Emily and Murray who come rushing over.

‘Poppy, darling, Mummy's here.'

‘And Daddy,' Murray says gruffly.

‘You're all right,' Lewis tells her. ‘You're safe, Pops.' He makes to stand up again.

‘I said, stay there, sir.'

‘Lewis, thank god,' I breathe, kneeling beside him. ‘I thought . . . Never mind. Do as the doctor tells you.'

‘Zara?' Ben exclaims. ‘It's Claire's wedding do, isn't it?'

‘It is.' I extricate Poppy from Lewis's arms. ‘Are you okay, darling? Does anything hurt?'

She thinks for a moment, pressing her finger to her lips and looking up at the stars before shaking her head.

‘Murray, take her inside,' Ben says. ‘If you could put the hazards on my car, Zara, I'll sort it out later. I think I ran it into the bank.'

‘What about Lewis?' I ask.

‘I'm fine, really.' He gives me his hand to pull him up.

‘Let me be the judge of that,' Ben says sternly. ‘You've had a nasty bump on the head.'

‘Have I?' Lewis touches his forehead, winces and checks his fingers. ‘Oh, I'm bleeding.' In the light of the
torch, he looks pale and dazed, and dark blood trickles down the side of his face. His shirtsleeve is ripped from top to bottom, revealing a graze all the way up his forearm.

‘Do we need an ambulance?' Murray comes running back, accompanied by Kev. ‘Elsa's asking if she should call 999. Emily's looking after Poppy.'

‘Give it a minute, or two,' Ben says quietly, and he asks Lewis a few questions and taps his chest, deciding that it's safe to move him indoors. ‘We don't need an ambulance, but we'll have to call the police to report the accident.'

‘I've called it in,' Kev says. ‘Someone will be out to take the details.'

Murray and I help Lewis back into the hotel where he's treated as a hero. Elsa wants to give him a brandy. Ben says no, but he'll have one, thank you.

‘I didn't see her. She appeared in front of me, like a ghost. I don't know how I stopped in time. Where is Poppy?'

‘She's inside with Emily and her great-grandma,' Elsa replies.

‘I should clean those wounds up.' I touch Lewis's shoulder.

‘Ouch!' He holds out his hand. He's shaking.

‘I'm sorry.'

‘I hope you're going to be gentle with me,' he says cheekily.

‘I'll fetch the first-aid kit,' Elsa says.

‘It's all right,' Ben says. ‘I'll fetch my bag from the car. I reckon that's going to need two or three Steri-Strips:'

‘Do you think that will be enough to keep my brain in?' Lewis says. ‘It's throbbing a bit.'

‘No more dancing tonight,' Ben says. ‘Take a couple of paracetamol – that should do the trick. And you shouldn't be left on your own for the next twenty-four hours. You could be concussed.'

‘I'll stay with him,' I say, smiling. ‘It's no trouble!'

I clean up Lewis's head wound and Ben applies the butterfly strips.

I help him out of his shirt, unfastening the buttons down the front one by one, and sliding the material off each shoulder, taking every opportunity to touch his warm skin and feel the hardness of the muscle underneath. I know it's naughty, but he is so yummy, I could eat him. Elsa brings him a clean, short-sleeved shirt – it's a fraction tight across the shoulders but it will do for now.

I pick out the gravel from the grazes on his arm, using the tweezers from Ben's visit bag, before cleaning the wounds with antiseptic.

‘You are a cruel woman,' Lewis says.

‘I'm sorry. I know it hurts.' I pause. ‘What do you think, Ben?'

‘You've done an excellent job,' he says, peering through his reading glasses. ‘Lewis, I'd like you to pop into the surgery on Monday so I can check up on you. I can prescribe you antibiotics if it's necessary.'

Emily and Gran turn up with Murray, who's holding his wide-eyed and weary daughter in his arms.

‘Poppy, what did you want to say to Lewis?' Emily says.

‘Thank you.' She takes her thumb out of her mouth for just long enough to speak.

‘I want to give you a hug, but it looks as if it could be too painful. I want – we both want to say that we can't thank you enough. There are no words . . .' Emily's eyes well up with tears

‘We're for ever in your debt,' Murray finishes for her.

Lewis blushes as Murray clears his throat. ‘I happened to be in the right place at the right time. Anyone would have done the same thing.'

‘You can run bloody fast,' Murray goes on. ‘You should start training for the Olympics.'

‘It was the adrenaline,' Lewis says, reaching out for my hand. I squeeze his fingers.

‘I think I should take you home,' I say. ‘Emily, could you drop the three of us at Gran's?'

‘Of course,' she says. ‘We'll see to Mick and Miley tonight.'

‘Their biscuits are in a tin in the cupboard under the sink,' Lewis says. ‘They have two each when they go to bed.'

‘I'll go and say goodbye to Claire,' I say, smiling. Lewis has remembered the dogs, so he can't be feeling too bad, although I won't stop worrying about him for the next twenty-four hours. There are occasions when I wish I didn't have a medical background, and this is one of them. I can't help imagining the worst!

Luckily, the bride has no idea of how serious the situation could have been.

‘Kev told me Lewis walked into a door. Is he okay?'
she asks. ‘Silly bugger, that's what comes of having too much to drink.'

‘He's fine, but I'm going to take him home now. Carry on. Don't stop the party!'

CHAPTER TWENTY

Shepherd's Warning

Lewis stays overnight in the flat, sharing my single bed, and I can't take my eyes off him or stop listening for his breathing. I have to keep telling Frosty not to get on the bed because there isn't room, but it is impossible to do successful signing in the dark.

‘I'm sorry,' I whisper, gently pushing her down again.

I check the clock on my mobile. Is Lewis sleeping or slipping into a coma? I stroke his cheek, feeling the rough stubble against my skin. He stirs and mumbles something in his sleep. An hour later, I check on him again. When there's no response, I switch on the bedside lamp and squeeze his hand. He opens his eyes.

‘Zara, what's up?'

‘How many fingers can you see?' I hold up two.

‘Um, four.'

‘Four?' I can't disguise the panic in my voice. ‘Are you sure?'

He smiles. ‘Only joking. Did you have to wake me up?'

‘Doctor's orders.'

‘What's the time?'

‘Three o'clock.'

He groans. ‘I won't get back to sleep now.'

‘If I had my way, you'd stay awake for the whole twenty-four hours.'

‘It seems a bit pointless for both of us to have to suffer from sleep deprivation. Thank you. I'm sorry if I sound ungrateful.' Lewis shifts onto his elbow, wincing as he raises his body. ‘I have a terrible headache.'

‘I'll get you some more painkillers,' I say, jumping up.

‘Please . . .'

I fetch paracetamol and water and stand over him like a nurse on the ward as he takes it, and then I curl up beside him with the duvet wrapped around us, when the shock of what happened the night before finally hits me. Poppy, running away across the gravel, the sound of brakes and the terrible thud in the darkness followed by my sister's screams. I shudder at the memory.

I thought I'd lost you.' I start to cry.

‘You softie. I have no intention of reaching my expiry date yet. There's too much to experience, too much living to do yet – and preferably with you.' He reaches over, turns out the light and holds me closer until I can feel his breath warm and damp against my hair.

‘I love you,' I murmur, but I'm not sure he hears me because, in spite of his protestations that he won't get back to sleep, within seconds of his head hitting the pillow, he's snoring lightly. Frosty is on the end of the bed, lying across our feet, and I don't have the heart to turf her off again.

The next morning, Lewis and I have breakfast together with the Sunday papers.

‘When we move in together, we'll be able to do this every Sunday,' he says, looking up from the sports pages.

‘I'd love to, but—'

‘I know. I can wait,' Lewis cuts in.

‘Thank you.'

‘You're worth waiting for,' he says with a glint in his eye, and I picture us making a home together: me, Lewis and the dogs.

‘I didn't know you liked football,' I say, changing the subject.

‘I have an interest in it. I'm not fanatical, though.'

‘I'm taking Claire and Kevin to the airport this morning. I assume you're coming with me?'

‘So you can keep an eye on me?' he says with a small smile.

‘Well, yes. The twenty-four hours isn't up yet. It's the perfect excuse for us to spend a whole day together.'

‘Actually, I feel fine, and I'd really like to go back to the farm to check on the dogs and Poppy.'

‘We can do that on the way, if we leave in the next half an hour or so.'

‘I mean, I'd like to have a shower and . . . have a bit of space.'

‘I'm sorry. I've been suffocating you . . . ?'

‘It isn't you, Zara. You've been amazing. I'm not sure I'm up to listening to Claire and her plans for the honeymoon just now.'

‘That's okay, but you really should have someone with you,' I try again.

‘I'll be all right. I can knock on Emily's door or phone you if I feel squiffy.'

‘You'll ring me later?'

‘I promise, as long as you promise to stop nagging me.' With a rueful smile, Lewis stands up and clears the table before we get ready to leave.

‘Where are you going?' Gran says as I pick up my keys from the counter where I left them the night before.

‘I'm taking Lewis back to the farm so we can see Poppy, and then I promised Claire and Kevin I'd take them to the airport, remember? They stayed at the Barnscote for their first night as husband and wife.'

‘How romantic,' Gran sighs. ‘I remember my first night as a married woman. We stayed at the King's Head – when it was a pub, that is. We had stout for a nightcap and porridge for breakfast.'

‘I think Claire and Kevin were planning champagne and a fry-up.'

‘Where are they going for the honeymoon?'

‘Las Vegas.' I'm sure I've told her several times before. ‘Gran, much as I love our little chats, I have to
go. I don't want them missing their flight. I won't be too long.'