Generations of Love

by Wendy Pulford

  A while later in the men’s washroom after he had smartened himself up as best he could, he looked in the mirror. A father! He still couldn’t believe it. He ached to be with his new family, but there was still a job to be done here. He hoped Catherine would understand. He closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Thank you, my love. I miss you and love you both, and I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’

  He then turned and strode out of the room. The sooner he got on with his job the sooner he would be able to leave.

  Before the interviewing started, King insisted he rang the hospital. Alex then realised just what the time was, one o’clock in the morning! King told him that they would try to get him on a London plane in the morning, so he should be there by lunchtime.

  Alex passed on the information to a Duty Sister, and his love. He was told that Catherine was asleep, but everything was fine. As tired as he was, he couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he walked with King to the interview rooms.

  *

  Catherine looked around the darkened room, and smiled to herself. She had a son! She moved her body, and felt it protest. At her slight gasp, a figure in the chair moved.

  ‘Hello, sweetie. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Oh, Sarah! A bit battered and bruised. What time is it?’

  ‘Just after one o’clock in the morning. I’m supposed to tell them when you wake up.’

  ‘You don’t need to stay, Sarah. You need some sleep. You’ve got to work.’

  ‘I’ve managed to arrange cover for tomorrow – no, of course, today – so I don’t need to worry about that. I’ll stay a bit longer, my love. Jerry knows where I am and he sends his best to you both. Guess who rang while you were asleep?’

  ‘Alex? Oh, I wish I could have talked to him.’

  ‘You’ll be able to see him in person by lunchtime tomorrow – no, sorry, today. He said he will be catching a morning flight down from Glasgow. He sent you both his love. Now, I’d better tell someone you’re awake.’

  *

  Having been reunited with his top coat, covering up the worst of the damage to his suit, Alex followed Chief Inspector King into the final interview room. He concealed his bandaged hand in his coat pocket.

  The other three prisoners had so far said nothing at all, but they displayed varying degrees of emotion. The young boy manning the dinghy looked sullen and resentful, bearing the marks of his attempt to resist arrest. The youngster made an inappropriate comment on being asked if he wished to say anything, but just received a calm stare from King. The other two appeared baffled. One of them was wearing sea boots, and Alex took him for the fishing boat skipper.

  The final man, Alex knew, was his fugitive from the airport. He was sitting on the bed, with two uniformed police officers by the door. Alex had passed another half-dozen more in the corridor outside.

  He was displaying no emotion at all. He had scratches on one side of his face where he had hit the ground hard when Alex had jumped on him.

  King walked to the middle of the room and stood surveying the man. Alex hung back by the door, leaning against the wall, eyes down, studying his shoes.

  ‘Now, then. Let’s not waste any time. Do you want to start talking?’

  Alex became conscious of scrutiny and lifted his head to see the Irishman giving him a considering look. He saw dark eyes travel down to rest on his scuffed shoes. The eyes came back to his again. The man knew that he was his assailant. There was no anger reflected. This one had his emotions well under control. More than ever, Alex was sure that the man was not just an ordinary courier.

  King sighed at the silence. ‘Alright, my friend, it looks as if it’s going to be a long night.’

  He turned to Alex and raised an eyebrow, offering him the chance to say or do something. Alex gave what he hoped was an imperceptible shake of his head. For some reason he again looked over at the Irishman and found he was regarding him again, this time with even more interest. It was clear he had noted King’s attitude towards Alex, and was trying to work out who he might be. Well, after all, it didn’t matter.

  Out in the corridor, King turned to Alex. ‘I don’t think we’re going to get much out of the young boy at the moment, apart from bad language. The car driver might be useful. The fishing boat skipper looks as if the sky’s fallen in on him. That might produce some results.’

  ‘I think this last one’s a pro, Roy. I don’t think he’s just a courier. He’s been sizing me up, and coming to the right conclusions. It would be nice if we could get a name.’

  ‘Photos have already been circulated. We’ll see tomorrow if we have any results. Do you want to sit in on anything tonight? You could do with getting your head down for an hour or so. I’ll let you know if we turn up anything. In any case, I’ll come and take you to the airport.’

  ‘I must admit I’m tempted to let Dougie have a listen to what we have tonight.’ His hand was now causing him some discomfort. ‘I’ll come with you to have a word with him. If he, or you, want me later, give me a call.’ He reached into his inside pocket. ‘By the way, here’s some money for the beer I promised.’ He managed a tired grin. ‘You can have a double celebration on me.’

  Alex thought he wouldn’t sleep, but he dropped off in seconds. Although it was for no more than four hours, it took the edge off his tiredness.

  The hotel did the best it could during this time with his suit and shoes, and they had been returned to him. He washed and shaved and was getting dressed, surveying the many bruises and scrapes on his body, when the phone rang. For one desperate moment he thought it might be about Catherine, but it was Roy King.

  ‘I hoped you would be up, laddie. I wondered if you wanted to review what we found out last night, which wasn’t much. Also, guess what: our Irishman has asked to see you. No one else. Just you. We know who he is, by the way. The intelligence boys will be interested in him, alright. I’ll come by now and we can stop off on the way to the airport.’

  ‘I’m not going to miss the plane, Roy. No way!’

  ‘Don’t worry, he knows you’ve a plane to catch. I’ll have you on it, my boy. I’ll be with you in a minute or two.’

  Alex had a quick word with a tired Dougie when he arrived at the station. It seemed that the fishing boat skipper, John Kerry, was being most informative. Dougie said he intended grabbing some sleep and then resuming his talk. They agreed that he should stay in Glasgow for a day or two, and then he could give a full briefing on his return to London.

  This would allow Alex two free days with Catherine, which earned Dougie a broad smile of thanks. Alex then followed Roy King to the cell still guarded by two substantial police constables.

  The prisoner was named as Liam O’Dowd. He was known to the Northern Irish police, suspected of being involved in activity in the border area and further north, but they had never been lucky in apprehending him – until now.

  Alex stepped into the cell. O’Dowd was sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up under his chin. They surveyed each other for a minute or so in silence.

  ‘You wanted to see me?’ queried Alex.

  O’Dowd regarded him, his dark eyes curious. ‘What are you?’

  ‘I’m a police inspector.’

  ‘I know that. You’re not ordinary though, are you. Special Branch?’

  Alex just shrugged.

  ‘Yes, I bet you are. The one in charge up here outranks you, yet he defers to you.’ He stared at Alex for a further moment, and then appeared to make a decision. ‘I was set up, wasn’t I. Who by?’

  ‘I thought you might be able to tell me that.’

  ‘How were you tipped off?’

  ‘Anonymous letter.’

  ‘Mmm, pity. The skipper might be able to help you some. He seemed quite a decent sort. Doing jobs like this to pay off debts on his boat, he told me.’

  Alex made a mental note to tell Dougie, if h
e hadn’t already found out the same thing.

  O’Dowd considered him again. ‘Were you armed?’

  ‘No. Nor were you, unless you disposed of it somewhere on the airfield.’

  ‘I left it on the boat. I wasn’t sure what level of security there might be in the airport. You took a chance, though.’

  Alex felt this talk wasn’t serving any useful purpose, and turned to go. ‘I have to get back to London, but if you want to say anything, ask to speak to my Sergeant Johnson and what you tell him will come straight to me.’

  O’Dowd gave a slight smile. ‘Oh yes, you’ve an important date, I gather. Not a good idea – relations, I mean – in my line of work, I’ve found.’ He paused, and his face hardened. ‘I could cope with what I’ll be getting for things I’ve done, if that’s why I was caught. However, this leaves a sour taste. I don’t like being hung out to dry. I’m not going to rest until I find out who’s responsible, and then I’ll pay them a personal visit. If you find out before I do, you can give them that message.’

  There was an ominous finality to the man’s statement. Looking at him, Alex saw the coldness in the eyes, and believed every word. He turned and left the room.

  *

  The persistent throbbing of his hand kept Alex awake on the plane. He’d intended, if he could, to catch some more sleep, but he was too keyed up. All he could think about was rerunning the last few hours, and seeing Catherine.

  He found a car waiting at the airport to take him to the hospital. No doubt arranged by King, he thought. He would have liked to have gone home and made himself more presentable, but that would have wasted time.

  The nurse on Reception eyed him up and down, her eyes widening; wondering what sort of tramp Catherine had married, he thought. The real reason for her sudden interest didn’t occur to him. He was told that the Sister had requested a word with him when he arrived, and he waited, trying to be patient, until she appeared about ten minutes later.

  ‘Good morning Mr… sorry, Inspector Hartman.’

  Alex smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t mind the “Mr”.’

  ‘I’m Sister Barnard. I wasn’t on duty when your wife gave birth but the doctor who was will be back tomorrow, and will speak with you then.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there?’

  ‘No, it’s all fine, he just wants to explain to you what happened. Your wife’s had a rather difficult time, so she’ll be uncomfortable for a bit. You’ll find them both in the end room on the left. We’ll leave you alone for a while.’

  Alex followed the directions to the room and pushed open the door. He saw Catherine lying in the bed. She appeared to be sleeping. Her hair had been pulled back from her face and secured, exposing the line of her cheek and neck. How many times, he thought, had he watched her sleeping since he had known her? Every time, it seemed, he felt the urge to place his lips against her throat. He was bending his head towards her when a sound caught his attention. In the cot beside the bed was a small bundle. He moved over and stood looking down – at his son!

  ‘Do you like him Alex?’

  He turned his head, and saw the green gaze on him.

  ‘Oh, my love!’ He crossed to her and gathered her in his arms. Her small gasp halted him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. My darling, you’ve been so brave.’ With gentle hands he laid her back on the pillows.

  ‘Please hold me, Alex. I was so frightened. I needed you so much.’

  With great care he slid one arm under her shoulders, murmuring, ‘Keep still my love. I’ll do all the work.’ He lowered his mouth to hers, intending it to be a light kiss but he sensed the remembered fear and anxiety running through her body, and deepened the contact in comfort.

  Drawing back from her, he could see now that she was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes.

  ‘Catherine, I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘I had to do it, Alex. There was no one I could contact. I was worried. I thought something had gone wrong. When it was… bad, they played music to me, and I asked them to let me hear the music you like. It made it seem as if you were with me.’

  He could feel her body trembling. ‘It’s alright, my sweet. Always remember, I’m with you, wherever you are.’ He stroked her cheek, and she caught sight of his bandaged hand.

  ‘Alex! You’re hurt! What have you done?’

  ‘Oh nothing, just a cut which needed a stitch or two. Me being careless.’

  She studied his face, and he knew she had also now seen the other marks and taken in his obviously worn appearance. She started to say something, and then stopped. He watched her expression change from concern to one of resignation. She realised he wasn’t going to tell her anything, so she wouldn’t ask. He kissed her again, by way of a thank-you.

  She smiled at him. ‘You haven’t answered my first question.’

  He was looking at her mouth again. ‘I’ve forgotten what that was, my love.’

  ‘Our son, Alex! What do you think of him?’

  With a strange reluctance he couldn’t understand, he moved off the bed and stood once more looking down into the cot. The small shape was wriggling more now, and as he watched, started to cry.

  ‘He’s wondering who the heck I am.’

  Just then the door opened and a Staff Nurse appeared.

  ‘Looks as if I came at the right time, dear. Let’s get you ready.’

  Alex watched as she assisted Catherine to sit upright and then brought over the baby. The small bundle was placed in her arms and she offered a breast enlarged with milk to the infant who, after a moment, stopped crying and began to feed.

  The tumult of emotions that flooded through him at this sight unnerved him, and he knew he had to get away by himself. With a quick ‘Excuse me’, he left the room.

  CHAPTER 19

  The men’s toilet, when he found it, was empty and he stood there, his body shaking as if with a fever. What the hell was wrong with him? Why had he experienced that sudden dreadful anxiety, something akin to… fear, when he had looked at that tender scene? This was his wife and son, for God’s sake. He should be brimming over with happiness.

  Then, with a growing realisation, he acknowledged that until this moment the fact of having a child, despite it becoming obvious, was still… something in the future. Now it was for real. A wife and child, both depending on him. Did he know how to deal with the responsibilities of being a good father? Had it all come too fast, before he was prepared?

  He leant against the wall, the coolness of the tiles soothing the agitation inside him. As he began to calm down he recognised the source of his panic. Catherine, out of necessity, had slipped away from him with her new responsibilities, and from now on it would always be so. She was no longer there just for him – but he still needed her.

  It began to dawn on him that Catherine had been all he could think about since she had come into his life, such a short while ago. She had made a huge impact on him. He had delighted in the fact that she was his, and his alone, but now… now he would have to share. Share with this child who had already wreaked such havoc on that beautiful body he loved and desired, and who at this moment was being nourished by her in a way that would still deny him any immediate pleasure.

  He straightened up from the wall and paced up and down, trying to think. After a moment or two he knew with certainty how the future must be. Their child had been wanted and created between them, and was a part of them both. As his son grew, he would share his love between his parents, and they with him. Catherine would still be his wife, nothing would change that. When it became possible, she would be his lover again. Yes, this was it, he was sharing her with his son, just as she was sharing her husband, but they still had each other and those special moments between them would happen again.

  He began to feel quieter now he had sorted it out in his head. Perhaps he was more tired and
muddled than he thought. Had he upset Catherine? He must return to her and show her that they both had all his love, and he would try to be as good a husband and father as it was possible to be.

  When he entered the room again she was alone, but still feeding. She looked up as he came towards her. He could see a query in her eyes, but as she recognised his change in attitude she relaxed and smiled at him.

  ‘Feeling better?’

  He ran a gentle finger along the side of her breast and on to the cheek of his son. He felt an uplifting surge of sweet emotion. Dear God, he loved them both, and he would do all in his power to look after and protect them.

  He smiled at her. ‘Perfect, my love. Just perfect.’

  *

  When Sarah and Jerry arrived during the late afternoon, Alex was on his own. Catherine had just been taken away for a bath. He was sitting in the chair, half-asleep.

  ‘Well, now, how’s the proud father!’

  Alex knew that he was in for some ribbing from Jerry… but just wait until it was his turn!

  With a proud smile, holding his emotions in check, Alex went with Sarah and Jerry to show them his son. He had been into the nursery on several occasions and was beginning to enjoy the feel of the tiny body in his arms. It was getting quite addictive, he thought.

  Back in the side room, they waited for Catherine’s return.

  ‘He seems a bonny little chap. I hear he gave Catherine a rough time.’

  ‘So I’m told, and she seems pretty uncomfortable. It will all heal up, so they say.’

  Sarah had been regarding him with interest but now observed, ‘You look as if you’ve had a rough time as well.’

  Alex looked down at his hand. ‘Oh, I had an argument with a piece of metal. A couple of stitches, that’s all.’

  Sarah and Jerry looked at each other. There had been reports on the news bulletins of a security incident at Glasgow airport, and the obvious conclusions were drawn.

  ‘What did Catherine make of it?’ Sarah knew the answer. Alex wouldn’t tell her anything, and Catherine would know not to ask.