Finder - Chapter 3

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=3 height=90 BGCOLOR="#3399FF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="7" COLOR="#FFCC66" FACE="Times New Roman" ><I><B>Liz Berry Books</B></I></FONT><B>   </B></div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=160 BGCOLOR="#FFCC66" TEXT="#080000" background="08bd4c00dkelyh.png"> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Liz Berry Books"><U><I><B>Home</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id17.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE=" Meet Liz "><U><I><B>Meet Liz</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Books"><U><I><B>Books</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id98.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Third Book/Creativity"><U><I><B>Third Book</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id29.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Messages"><U><I><B>Messages</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Bookstore"><U><I><B>Bookstore</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id31.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Contact Liz"><U><I><B>Contact Liz</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Links"><U><I><B>Links</B></I></U></A></div> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>Finder </B></div> <div> <B> </B><FONT SIZE="4" COLOR="#FF0033" FACE="Times New Roman" ><B>Chapter 3</B></FONT></div> <bR> <div> The hospital was modern. A square block of grey concrete, banded with blank windows. A people factory, Alex thought, staring up at it. Broken people shunted in, repaired and shovelled out. Alive <I>or </I><I>dead</I><I>.</I></div> <div> Leo pulled into a parking space. Before he got out he slipped on a pair of heavy-rimmed light-sensitive glasses from the dashboard compartment, and combed his hair straight back. It was astonishing the difference it made.</div> <div> Alex watched him scornfully. 'You think someone here is going to recognise you?'</div> <div> He shrugged. 'I'm not in the mood for signing autographs.'  <I>After sharing a car with you.</I> Alex bit her lip.</div> <div> She got out and slammed the car door savagely. Despite all her efforts she could not stop the fine trembling which, now they had actually got here, seemed to be affecting her whole body.</div> <div> In the car she had managed to put up a good screen, distancing herself, not allowing herself to think, staring out of the window, refusing to respond to Leo's attempts at conversation, until he had snapped on the car radio and they listened to road information and news the whole way. The same boring story repeated again and again: The leader of the Conservative Party had resigned or had been forced to resign. An election was coming up. <I>Who cares?</I> Alex thought sourly. They could elect a chimpanzee as far as she was concerned. Probably do a better job.</div> <div> Leo's big BMW had hardly seemed to be moving, but he had kept the speedo on seventy most of the time. He was an excellent driver, taking no chances, not feeling the need to show off.</div> <div> They identified the casualty entrance by the police cars and fleet of ambulances still parked outside, pushed open the heavy swing doors and walked into chaos. Lines of injured people still lying on trolleys waiting for beds, grey doctors, rushing nurses, anxious relatives milling about the reception area.</div> <div> Alex said to Reception, trying to keep her voice from shaking, 'They say my mother has been brought here.  Beverley Wallis.'</div> <div> Reception, squatting below a high curved counter, looked relieved.</div> <div> 'Alexandra Wallis?'</div> <div> 'Alex <I>Brown,' </I>Alex said, stonily. 'Jake Wallis is my stepfather.'</div> <div> 'We've been trying to contact you.' She sounded accusing.</div> <div> 'Contact <I>me</I>?'</div> <div> Reception looked surprised. 'Next of kin, of course. There's bad news about your father, I'm afraid.'</div> <div> '<I>Stepfather.'  </I>She couldn't keep the irritation out of her voice. 'I'm not <I>his</I> next of kin. I want to know about my mother.'</div> <div> 'Well we found your name in Mr. Wallis' Filofax as next of kin, but there was no address or phone number. I'm afraid he was dead on arrival at the hospital.'</div> <div> Alex gritted her teeth. <I>'What about my mother?'</I></div> <div> Leo put his arm around her shoulders. She could feel his fingers digging into her upper arm and it steadied her. He smiled at Reception. 'I believe Mrs. Wallis is here as well. Would you know where we might find her?'</div> <div> Reception smirked and fluttered her eyes at him. 'Let me see.' Importantly she ran her finger down a typed list. 'There's been so many brought in from the accident.'</div> <div> Alex clenched her fists.</div> <div> 'Oh yes, here we are. She's in Nightingale Ward. Most of them are in Nightingale.'</div> <div> The muscles in Alex' legs suddenly felt like old chewing gum as the tension went out of her. She held on to the counter.</div> <div> 'Follow the yellow line to the lift. Sixth floor. Turn right.  You'll  need to see the Ward Manager first. And before you leave the police will want a word with you.' She fluttered her eyes at Leo again. 'Excuse me, but has anyone told you that you look like Leo Falkner?  You know on the TV,  the Tiger of Jaipur?'</div> <div> 'He's my uncle. He's much older than he looks.'</div> <div> She looked disappointed. 'Oh really?'</div> <div>   </div> <div> The Ward Manager of Nightingale was at a desk just inside the swing doors. She looked Alex over searchingly, obviously wondering how much to tell her.</div> <div> 'I want to know,'  Alex said.</div> <div> 'You do realise she's very badly injured? Both legs are broken, plus there's a crushed arm and collar bone. Broken ribs have punctured her lung. There are other internal injuries too. She's lost a lot of blood.'</div> <div> 'Can I see her?'</div> <div> The Ward Manager got up.  'She's along here in a side room. She's been asking for you. I'm so glad you got here quickly.'</div> <div> Leo said, 'You want me to come in with you?'</div> <div> Alex shook her head, unable to speak. The trembling had got worse, and her stomach was churning about like feeding time at a fish farm.</div> <div> She followed the nurse into a narrow white room with space for only one bed. In the bed there was a pathetically small mound, wired up to a forest of equipment and a flickering monitor. A ragged breath, harsh and abnormally loud, sent a series of peaks travelling across the screen, which levelled out for too long before another breath came.</div> <div> The nurse bent over the bed. 'Mrs. Wallis, your daughter's here.'</div> <div> There was no response. 'Mrs. Wallis, love, Alexandra's come to see you.'</div> <div> 'Sandy,' said Alex. 'She calls me Sandy.'</div> <div> 'Sandy's here, love.'</div> <div> Another harsh, gasping breath, and the monitor jerked into life. 'Sandy...'</div> <div> Two more gasping breaths, seeming to get further apart.</div> <div> Alex stared at the monitor, hypnotised.</div> <div> <I>'Sandy...</I>'</div> <div> Alex moved forward eagerly, taking the hand that lay flaccid on the bedcover. For the first time she was able to bring herself to look at the woman in the bed. She had been frightened that when she saw her she wouldn't be able to stop the hate welling up. But all she could think of now was that Bev's face wasn't smashed up. There was bad bruising, but her sharp, pretty face was still recognizable. Her dyed blonde hair was crusted with the blood from a long cut on her forehead.</div> <div> She'll loathe that scar, Alex thought, and hoped it wouldn't be permanent.</div> <div> 'Sandy...'</div> <div> 'I'm here, Mum.'  Bev hated to be called Mum. 'It makes me feel old and frumpy,' she had snapped, when Alex was five and had come running out of her first day at school, shouting 'Mummy, Mummy!'</div> <div> 'I'm Bev from now on, and don't you forget it.'  They had fought one of their many battles about it.</div> <div> Alex sighed. 'I'm here, Bev.'</div> <div> Another shuddering gasp. 'Bag.' Her fingers moved in Alex's clasp, convulsively. 'Get bag.'</div> <div> The Ward Manager looked at Alex. 'If it's her handbag she's worried about, it's here in the locker. They found it in the wreckage.'</div> <div> Alex pulled out a black crocodile shoulder bag.</div> <div> 'It's all right, Bev. The bag is here.You don't have to worry.'  Strange how women always worried about their handbags before anything else.</div> <div> The weak fingers tightened and the woman dragged in more air, trying to rally her strength. '<I>Inside.'</I></div> <div> Alex tipped the flap back and looked inside. Her mother's usual half-ton of make-up, lipgloss,  moisturizers, blackhead creme, styling brush, mauve eye shadow, which never suited her. A St. Lauren handpainted silk scarf. Address book. A couple of thick envelopes. Sobranie cigarettes. Keys. A gold lighter. Alex paused, curiously, holding it in her hand, and stared at the figure in the bed. <I>Solid gold.</I></div> <div> What on earth could Bev want out of the bag? She made a guess and pulled out the bulky wallet. She glanced inside and closed it quickly.</div> <div> 'The wallet is here.'</div> <div> The hand moved frantically on the sheet, and another lungful of air was dragged in harshly. When Alex looked back at her, she saw that Bev had forced open her eyes. The large light blue eyes were fixed on her, holding a desperate message, as though by sheer force of will she would make her meaning clear.</div> <div> 'Papers.Yours... Take <I>papers</I>. Take bag.'</div> <div> Alex pulled out some envelopes. 'You want me to take these?' She glanced down and saw that one of them was stamped ready for posting, addressed to The Editor, <I>The Sun. </I>The other had her own name written on the front.</div> <div> Her mother fought for another breath. 'Red bag.'</div> <div> Alex looked in the locker. 'There's only the black one here.'</div> <div> Her mother rolled her head sideways on the pillow.  'Home. <I>Red</I> bag.'  The monitor line leaped about wildly.</div> <div> 'All right, all right, I've got the message,' said Alex quickly, frightened. She held on to the hand that was gripping the sheet frantically. 'The red bag at home.You want the papers.'</div> <div> The tension went out of the hands, out of the whole body, suddenly. Bev's eyes closed again.</div> <div> 'Yours...Important...Old red bag...'</div> <div> 'Yes, I know. It's all right. I understand. Relax. Now you've got to rest.'</div> <div> Alex pushed the envelopes and the wallet back into the crocodile bag. She understood Bev's anxiety. She couldn't leave the wallet in a bedside locker, for anyone to nick it. She would take it with her, as Bev wanted and bring it back later with the red bag.</div> <div> She sat on the bed, holding her mother's hand, watching the monitor anxiously, while the nurse checked the drips. Was it her imagination or were the peaks getting smaller and less frequent?  </div> <div> There was an odd silence, while they waited for another of the slow, horrible breaths.</div> <div> 'Sandy...?'</div> <div> 'I'm still here.'</div> <div> 'Sor...sorry...'</div> <div> 'Okay.'</div> <div> 'You know...?'</div> <div> 'Yes. It's all right.'</div> <div> Impulsively, out of character, she bent and kissed the pale, clammy cheek. 'I'm sorry too. It wasn't really your fault. It was Jake. All his fault. He wasn't worth it.'</div> <div> A movement, which might have been a smile, moved across Bev's face. Alex stared at her. She had thought she hated this woman. Had sworn she would never see or speak to her again, but now, suddenly, her hatred had gone. Now <I>he</I> was dead they could start again. Get on better this time.</div> <div> Another rasping breath, louder, slower.</div> <div> Alex sat immobile, staring at the monitor, waiting for the line to leap into life, waiting for the next breath. And waiting.</div> <div> The line straightened and ran true.  No jagged lines.  Dead straight.</div> <div> She looked at her mother and then at the nurse, and slowly the truth penetrated.</div> <div> 'She's dead?  That's it?'</div> <div> 'You got here just in time,' said the nurse quietly. 'She was hanging on, waiting and hoping.'</div> <div> Alex jumped to her feet. 'But can't you do anything? resuscitation or something?'</div> <div> 'I thought you realised there wasn't any hope. The front of the car had crushed her chest. It was a miracle she lived as long as she did.'</div> <div> Alex shook her head, dazed. 'She's gone, just like that?'</div> <div> She had never seen a dead person before, and had thought it must be a frightening and ghastly experience, but it wasn't. Just very strange and awesome.</div> <div> There was nothing there now. The body was empty. The spirit or whatever it was had gone. She wondered if her mother was still in the room watching the doctor come bustling in, the dismantling of the drips, the switching off of the monitor.</div> <div> Already the lines of discontent in Bev's face were smoothing out. She looked peaceful and much younger like in the old days before <I>he </I>had come on the scene. Too young to die. Alex felt a shock of anger. What had caused the pile-up anyway? </div> <div> She sat there, silently, unable to cry, unable to think, unaware of the movement around her. She had said she wanted Bev out of her life permanently. But not like this. Not like this...</div> <div> 'Come on, Alex.'  Leo's voice. 'There's nothing you can do for her.'</div> <div> She got up like a zombie and followed him, heard her own voice thanking the Ward Manager, and was walking with Leo down the grey tiled corridor, still clutching her mother's black bag.</div> <div> She became aware that Leo was arguing angrily with a policewoman who had been waiting for them.</div> <div> 'She's just lost her mother, for God's sake. You're not seriously thinking she can identify him? Can't you get somebody else?  He was well-known. There must be hundreds of people who could do the job.'</div> <div> Alex took a deep breath. 'What's the matter?'</div> <div> Before Leo could speak, the WPC said, 'It's your father, Miss Wallis. We need identification. I was wondering if...'</div> <div> Alex said, 'My <I>step-father.</I> And the name is Brown. Alex Brown.'</div> <div> 'Sorry. You see Miss Brown...'</div> <div> 'All right, I'll do it.'</div> <div> Leo said angrily, 'Look, there's no need to tear yourself to bits. You've had enough.'</div> <div> 'No. I want to see him. I want to see him dead.'</div> <div> The policewoman looked at her strangely and Leo let his hand drop from her arm. There was an eerie sense of implacability about her. 'Where do we have to go?'</div> <div> Alex felt that she was moving ever deeper into the nightmare. She would need to go deeper before she could come out again. She was cool-headed now, functioning efficiently like a robot.</div> <div> It was over quickly. Alex eyes moved over the expensive Italian shoes, the fashionable silk and wool suit, and climbed to his thin, handsome face, the soft fair hair, worn too long. She had loved him once and hated him for what he had done but now there was nothing left to hate.</div> <div> His face was empty. No soul. But had he ever had one? All gone now, anyway. All the greed and sly treachery. All the peevishness and sulking when he didn't get his own way. The charming, false smiles when he did. The light, almost whispering voice, persuading you against your will, was silent forever. Now she could believe that he was truly dead.</div> <div> 'Yes, that's Jake Wallis, my mother's husband.'</div> <div> The policewoman lifted the sheet back over his face. 'He died instantly, if that's any comfort. Broken neck.'</div> <div> 'Yeah,' said Alex, thinking of her mother's horrific gasps, 'That's Jake. He would. He was always lucky.'</div> <div> The policewoman raised her eyebrows. 'Dying?'</div> <div> Alex thought of the contents of her mother's wallet. 'Maybe. In the long run.'</div> <div> They had to go to another department to sign for the contents of Jake's pockets. Two gold credit cards, three hundred pounds in notes, three pounds ninety three pence in coins, a mobile phone and a gold Rolex watch. Alex stuffed them, without interest, into her mother's bag.</div> <div> 'There'll have to be an inquest first, you understand,' the WPC was telling her, 'And an inquiry about the cause of the accident. We'll get in touch later and then you'll be able to make your arrangements. May I have your address and telephone number?'</div> <div> Alex stared at her from inside the robot. What was she talking about? What arrangements? It was nothing to do with her.</div> <div> Leo was writing on a page torn from his diary. 'Here's the address. Alex's staying with me and my sister until further notice. He looked directly at Alex, challenging her to disagree, but suddenly she felt exhausted, too cold and shivery to argue.</div> <div> They walked back along the corridor to the reception area.</div> <div> 'How is she?'  A big young man who was sitting on the end of a bench, with a bandaged arm looked up and caught the policewoman's eye. 'Is there any news?'</div> <div> She shook her head. 'No good, I'm afraid. She just died. This is her daughter.'</div> <div> He slumped back on the bench, upset. 'It was a chance. I'm sorry.'</div> <div> The policewoman said to Alex, 'This is Matt Harding, who got your mother out of the car. He took a big risk. It could have gone up in flames at any moment.'</div> <div> Alex said, 'Thanks for trying. At least I got to speak to her one last time.'</div> <div> As the WPC was called away, Matt got up and stuck out his hand. 'Matt.'</div> <div> 'Alex Brown.'  They shook hands.</div> <div> 'You were in the accident yourself?' Leo asked, looking at the bandage and the blood stained shirt. 'Are they keeping you in?'</div> <div> 'No. I'm waiting for my van. Some local lads are putting in a new windscreen. This looks worse than it is. It's not my blood.'  He went bright red, and zipped up his jacket hastily. 'I mean it was just the broken window as I tried to get the door open.'</div> <div> He was covered with her mother's blood, Alex realised, staring at him, and felt a despairing anger. 'What caused the pile up? Did you see what happened?'</div> <div> 'All of it. I was just behind your old man's Porsche. It's a total write-off, by the way.' He hesitated and looked at her strangely.  'There's something you ought to know about that so called accident.'  </div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id105.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder Chapter 4"><U><I><B>Chapter 4</B></I></U></A><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Times New Roman" ><A HREF="id105.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder Chapter 4"><U>.</U></A></FONT></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I><B>Copyright Liz Berry 2002.  All rights reserved.</B></I></div> <div> <I><B>________________________________________</B></I></div> <div> <A HREF="id28.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder"><U><I><B>Finder </B></I></U></A><I><B> |  </B></I><A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Books"><U><I><B>Books </B></I></U></A><I><B> | </B></I><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Liz Berry Books"><U><I><B> Home</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <I><B>                  </B></I><I><B>                                </B></I><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Times New Roman" >                                                                    </FONT></div> </td> <td valign="top" width=125 BGCOLOR="#3399FF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <A HREF="id28.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder"><U><I><B>Finder</B></I></U></A><FONT SIZE="4" COLOR="#FF0033" FACE="Times New Roman" ><A HREF="id28.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder"><U><I><B> </B></I></U></A></FONT></div> <bR> <div> <I><B><IMG SRC="45957500.jpg" border=0 width="87" height="80" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></I></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id43.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder Chapter 1"><U><I><B>Chapter 1</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id73.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder Chapter 2"><U><I><B>Chapter 2</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <I><B>Chapter 3</B></I></div> <div> <A HREF="id105.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder Chapter 4"><U><I><B>Chapter 4</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id119.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder Chapter 5"><U><I><B>Chapter 5</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id120.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder Chapter 6"><U><I><B>Chapter 6</B></I></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id125.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Finder Chapter 7"><U><I><B>Chapter 7</B></I></U></A></div> </td> </tr></table></body>