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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

Friday's Child (31 page)

BOOK: Friday's Child
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Elle grimaced, hearing the music from where she was sat. She looked at her husband. “How are you doing, love?”

“Other than bored? I need to talk to you about something.” He drew in a deep breath and shifted in his seat. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was about to drop a bombshell on her.

“What is it?”

“Zeke Whybrow accessed Abbie’s birth certificate. He knew about her and us.” He paused. “And your mum—Jeanette—wanted you out of the club and away from PJ and the drug business. That’s why she was so anti you singing.”

Shock and horror resonated through her like a tsunami. Zeke’s involvement didn’t surprise her at all, but the other? Surely she’d misheard him. “Mum knew?”

“I’m sorry.” He paused. “I wish we knew why your mum was involved, but I guess we never will.”

“I imagine that PJ forced her.” She sucked in a deep breath. “But what about Zeke? What happens to him?”

“There’s a team looking for him now. Once they find him, they’ll charge him.”

“So I won’t need protecting any longer?”

“No.”

She smiled. “Good. Means we can plan the wedding.” She nudged Abbie and mimed taking out the headphones.

Abbie removed one. “What?”

“Tell him about your dress for the wedding.”

“I decided what color dress I want,” Abbie winked at him. “But I can’t tell you ‘cos it’s a secret.” She giggled. “But as you can keep secrets, I’ll tell you. It’s gonna be sky blue pink with yellow dots.”

“You’ll look lovely in it.”

Abbie grinned and put the headphones back in.

Patrick shifted on his chair. He wouldn’t meet her gaze. What was
he
hiding? Surely it couldn’t be worse than what he’d already said? Could it? Didn’t he want to go through with the formal wedding and doing it according to the law of the land? “What is it?”

“Thing is, it wasn’t just you they were after.”

She scrunched up her nose, confused. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about? It wasn’t only me they were after?”

“Abbie’s birth certificate is a matter of public record, the same as everybody else’s. Anyone can access it. About three months ago, just after you arrived in Headley Cross, someone accessed my file at work. And seemingly has been stalking me ever since. Some spook I am, I never noticed the phone tap or cameras.”

“You admittedly live at work and sleep at your desk. You’re hardly ever home.” She reached over and took his hand. “So that’s not your fault.”

He ran his thumb over her hand sending tendrils of warmth through her. “It looks as if they were using Abbie and you to get to me. DI Nemec says I haven’t been compromised that they know of yet, but it would only have been a matter of time. With the evidence we have, it looks as if Zeke is behind it. I just wish I knew why. I recognize his surname, but I don’t know where from.”

“You know too much.”

The snarl from behind her sent shivers down Elle’s spine. She turned around, her heart in her mouth. “Zeke.”

The door slammed shut. Zeke stood, his gun trained unwaveringly on Patrick.

 

 

 

 

 

30

 

Abbie screamed. Her earphones and MP3 player fell to the bed as she reached for the call button.

“Don’t even think it, little girl.”

Elle gripped Abbie’s hand tightly, swallowing her fear. She couldn’t let on how scared she was. She had to be strong for Abbie.

Patrick pushed upright in the chair. “Why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about this. I’m not armed and if you fire that in here you could damage the equipment or hit Elle or Abbie.”

“And why should that bother me? You’re all as guilty as each other.”

“But why?” Elle asked. “What did we do to you that was so terrible?”

Zeke kept his eyes and gun on Patrick as he spoke. “Remember the house party?”

She swallowed. “The one from university? You weren’t there. I’d have remembered you.”

“Garth was my older brother. He died because of you, Agent Page of MI5.”

Patrick held his gaze. “Then you don’t need the ladies in here. Why don’t you and I go somewhere else and discuss this?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What happened to Garth?” Elle asked. She wrapped her arms around a whimpering Abbie to protect her.
Jesus, please protect us.

“Because of you he wrapped his car around a tree.”

“How is that my fault?” Patrick asked.

“Because if that fight between you hadn’t happened, Dad wouldn’t have noticed the black eye and asked questions.” Anger spilled from Zeke, his face red, his voice loud and resonating. “Then Garth wouldn’t have died.” He shoved the gun into Patrick’s face. “So because of you I lost the most important thing in the world to me, and now you are going to lose what matters most to you. PJ had traced Eleanor, and I couldn’t believe my luck when it was the same Eleanor Harrison from college. I became her manager, figuring she’d have kept in touch with you. Finding she had an illegitimate daughter by you was the icing on the cake.”

Patrick looked unswervingly at him. Elle glanced from him to the angry man in front of them. Why was Patrick so calm? Didn’t he care what Zeke was saying?

“Put the gun down,” Patrick said. He flicked his eyes to the window in the door.

Elle followed his gaze, seeing a uniformed officer in Kevlar standing there. She flicked her eyes back to Patrick. Had he expected this? Surely, he wouldn’t willingly put Abbie in danger? Was he the man she thought he was?

Patrick held out his hands. “Look, you want to walk out of here, right? We all do. Put the gun down and we can do that.”

Zeke shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Who do I start with? Her?” He pointed the gun at Abbie, ignoring her scream.

Elle pulled her close, shielding Abbie with her body. “I got you, baby,” she whispered. Terror rose in her throat, she struggled to breathe, but at that moment she knew it didn’t matter what happened to her, so long as Abbie was all right.

“Or her.” Zeke pointed the gun at Elle.

She looked desperately at Patrick.

“How about neither?” Patrick slowly stood. “Just put the gun down.”

“Don’t move,” Zeke yelled. He swung the gun back at Abbie.

Patrick lunged at him, grabbing his wrist and pointing the gun away from Abbie. The police officers burst in, pointing their weapons at the men. Patrick seemed to have the upper hand as he landed a swift punch on Zeke’s chin.

Zeke fell back, the gun going off as he fell. The sound echoed in the small room.

Patrick fell to his knees, his hands clasped over his stomach. His eyes widened. “Elle…”

Abbie screamed. “Dad…”

Elle scrambled over to Patrick. He lay on the floor, a med team rushing in to surround him. Zeke started to come around, but the armed cops took charge, cuffing him and keeping him down.

“Patrick, stay with me…”

His eyes tried to focus, then closed, his head tilting to one side.

“Patrick…”

 

 

 

 

 

31

 

Patrick was flying so high he could see over the fence into next door’s garden. Old Mr. Fawcett was planting more flowers. And they had a fish pond now. With a fountain. It was heaps bigger than their one. Wasn’t his fault the fish didn’t like stones in the water. And it wasn’t just him throwing them in there either. But Niamh couldn’t do anything wrong. Ever.

It was so unfair. Liam always stuck up for her and never him. And now he was in trouble because he got caught doing something they started. The angrier he got, the higher the swing went. He ignored his mother’s voice. So what if the base was moving. Dad could fix it.

Then he really was flying and the ground was coming up fast to meet him. He landed with a jarring thud…

…Blue flowers nestled by his feet. Bluebells. Elle’s hand in his. Her long hair flowed over her shoulders, her white shirt undone a couple of buttons. The short sleeves made her arms look more tanned than they were. The heady smell of her perfume filled his senses. “Stay with me,” she said. “We need you. Stay with us.”

“Don’t make me come after you, Pi. I’ll drag you back if I have to.” Li sounded uncharacteristically gruff. Was he crying? Li never cried. Ever. Not even when Sally died.

“Dad…” a new voice. One that seemed familiar but who was she calling Dad? “Dad, please, it’s Abbie. Don’t die now I found you. Mum and I need you, so much.”

Abbie? He knew an Abbie. He had to go back. He tried turning. Swimming against the tide that bore him toward the light. Then arms surrounded him, a breeze blew softly around him and he was aware of hissing and beeping and someone crying.

 

****

 

Patrick struggled to open his eyes. His whole body felt as if it were encased in lead. He couldn’t move. Fear peaked, then eased as someone began singing quietly in the room. He smiled. The tune was
Danny Boy
. Abbie could play it on her flute. He gave up trying to open his eyes and lay there listening. The words washed over him comforting him.


I take my refuge in the shadow of my God

Under His wings, I have no need to fear.

Though terrors of the night surround me in the dark

And arrows fly, and men around me fall.

He sends an angel to protect the ones He loves

The darkness flees, it has nowhere to hide

The Lord Himself is standing right beside me

And with all of those who call upon His name
.”

Patrick opened his eyes as they finished singing. “That is lovely.”

“Dad! You’re awake!” Abbie grinned, hugging him.

“I am and it was a wonderful way to wake up. The song was beautiful.”

“Mum wrote it. She paraphrased Psalm ninety-one. There’s going to be more when she’s finished writing it.” Abbie had a measure of pride in her voice and a huge smile on her face as she leaned over the bed. “Do you really like it?”

“Yes, I do. It was a really nice thing to wake up to. Second only to your smiling face. I just wish I could move and sit up a little.”

Elle’s face moved into his field of vision. “Hello, handsome.”

He smiled. “Hey, love.”

She kissed him gently. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. It’d be easier to say what doesn’t hurt. What happened?”

“Zeke shot you as you took him down. You’ve been in a coma for a week.”

“A
week
?”

“The doctor said it was for the best. Since you can’t follow orders and rest…”

Patrick’s laugh turned into a groan as pain speared him in two. “Figures…”

“It’s no laughing matter.” She broke off. “You almost died…you did die. They had to resuscitate you for ages. Then they put you in a medically induced coma to give your body time to heal. You scared me. Scared us.”

“I’m sorry.” He longed to take her hand, but was still unable to move. “Am I tied down or something?”

“Yes,” Abbie interjected. “Even in a coma you couldn’t lie still. The nurse said she’d untie you when you woke. But you have to promise to behave.”

“I promise.” He sucked in a deep, painful breath. “Did I imagine you calling me Dad?”

She shook her head. “No. I’d like to, if that’s all right. I mean, you are my real Dad. Just like Ellie’s my mum and now you’re married and stuff…Where are we going to live? You only have one bedroom.”

“We’ll get a bigger house. For now, you get to camp out in the lounge.”

“Cool. I get the TV all night.”

Elle chuckled. “Think again, squirt. Keep Dad company while I go find the nurse.”

Patrick looked at her. “Elle…a week…Wait what’s happening?”

“They dropped the charges against me in exchange for my testimony. I’ll let Shay and Luke fill you in about work, but everything is going to be fine.”

 

 

 

 

32

 

Two months later…

 

Patrick and Liam stood at the top of the aisle, just before three o’clock. Patrick wasn’t sure who was the most nervous, even though he’d technically done this before. They were doubling up as groom and best man to each other. Organizing a double wedding in less than eight weeks hadn’t been as hard as he’d thought. Both Elle and Jacqui loved the idea.

The only fly in the ointment was Niamh. She’d gone into labor the day before, two weeks before her due date, and it looked like she and Jared would miss the service.

Her last words to them had been on the phone on the way to the hospital. “Don’t you dare call the wedding off now. I want pictures.”

“Hope she’s OK,” Patrick said.

“Jacqui, Elle or Niamh?” Liam said wryly.

“Niamh. I’ve got my phone in my pocket on vibrate, but nothing. Did Jared call and I missed it? How’s the pain?” It was a standing joke that Liam had also been in labor for most of the previous thirty-six hours.

“The pain stopped a while ago. Maybe she’s sleeping now. No, there’s been nothing yet from either of them.”

Patrick nodded and glanced over his shoulder. “I can see Abbie. They must be here.”

Liam nodded. “Have you got the rings?”

“Yes. Have you?”

Liam patted his pockets as if he’d forgotten, then winked. “Yes I have, but I don’t have the scrunchie.”

“Elle’s got it. A gold one she’s wearing around her wrist to start with. The original pink one is here.” He pulled his jacket sleeve up slightly to show him.

“Are you two really going to do that? Did you warn Pastor Jack?”

Patrick chuckled. “Nope, we didn’t. And yes, Elle is going to say with this ring and scrunchie I thee wed. Or whatever it is she has to say at that point.”

He glanced behind him and smiled at Luke and Sara Nemec sat on Elle’s side of the church. Their twins sat on their laps, playing with the order of service. Elle and Sara looked to becoming firm friends as both were glad to have found each other. Some good had come out of PJ—

He brought himself up short.
Thank you, Lord, for taking a bad situation and working it for good.

Pastor Jack came up to them. “Elle and Jacqui are here. Shall we make a start?”

Patrick nodded and he and Liam moved to the front of the church. The music began and he risked a glance over his shoulder.

BOOK: Friday's Child
7.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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