His face had healed well considering that every inch of his burned skin had been scraped off to protect him from infection. It was amazing to think that the once-seared tissue on his face had swelled to more than twice its normal size.
Now, half of his head of hair was missing. The hair follicles damaged beyond repair. Scar tissue growing over where his hair shafts should be.
He forced himself to stare at his left eye then. The eyelid sewn up.
He’d lost his fucking eye!
He was supposed to wear a patch, that’s what the doctor had advised.
More aesthetically pleasing, apparently. For whom?
Let people look at him. Let them stare. They were going to look anyway, how could they not?
This was it now.
His face, his body. Ruined for all eternity. Leaving him trapped inside this mess of a body. Barely functioning.
Riddled with panic attacks and flashbacks.
He rarely even attempted to leave his flat. Preferring the solitude of a simple, secluded life.
All he had was Marie.
Annoying, clingy, fucked-up Marie.
As if he wasn’t being punished enough.
Still, she had her uses. He put up with her for now.
Until he worked out what he was going to do.
Turning the bathroom light off, Daniel made his way back into his lounge and picked up his laptop and settled back down onto the settee.
There was no point trying to go back to sleep. Not now.
Instead he just stared at the screen, at the image of his dear older sister, Nancy Byrne. Taking in everything about her. Her face, her expression. Her body language.
She looked happy, genuinely. Smug almost, as she stood there arm in arm with that traitor Jack Taylor. That lying, cheating piece of shit.
How pathetic she was, to still not know Jack Taylor’s many secrets.
Daniel looked at the child nestled between them. That vibrant red Byrne hair. The same as his mother’s. Nancy’s too. Those striking green eyes. ‘Scarlett Byrne. Aged 4,’ the article said.
Born around the same time that he’d woken up from his coma.
His niece. His blood.
They looked like the perfect little family.
But looks could be very deceiving indeed.
How he’d love to rip her world right out from under her. To take it all away from her, just like that.
And he could.
He had that power.
He smirked then, glad that he finally remembered who he was.
Not this pathetic needy shell of a man that he’d been for almost the past four years. That wasn’t him. He was somebody. Someone.
He was Daniel Byrne.
She’d done this to him. Nancy.
She’d taken everything away from him.
And very soon, Daniel was going to repay the favour.
That was the very least he could do.
His bitch of a sister had been living on borrowed time – but very soon that shiny little bubble that Nancy lived in was going to burst in spectacular style.
Twenty-Four
Pulling her coat up under her chin to protect herself from the cutting wind, Louise Langton stepped out through the main entrance of Chelsea and Westminster Hospital and briskly made her way across the customer car park and out towards the main road.
Keeping her head down to shield herself from the heavy downpour, she’d thought about waiting for it to ease off before she made a dash for her car, only it didn’t look as if it was about to stop anytime soon.
Hurrying to reach the narrow overflow car park further down the road, tucked away behind a small row of shops, she shivered, soaked through. Her wet clothes, her coat, too, drenched. Sticking to her skin.
For a second she wished she’d parked closer. In this weather and at this time of night, it was a pain in the arse to have to trudge to it.
Still, in hindsight, she’d rather have to contend with a bit of wind and rain than her brand-new car getting battered by some ignorant imbecile, had she parked in the main hospital car park while she’d been on shift. She’d only end up coming out to find that the paintwork had been scraped, or that some idiot had taken a chunk out of one of her doors.
The overflow car park wasn’t as well known about, and even those people that did know of its whereabouts were often too lazy to be bothered to do the short ten-minute walk to get there. Though as far as Louise was concerned the short walk was more than worth it, purely for the peace of mind it brought her. Especially now that her husband had only gone and given her the surprise of a lifetime for her fiftieth birthday, a couple of weeks ago, and traded in her trusty old Ford Focus for her dream car.
A Mercedes-Benz SL-Class. With cream leather seats and top-of-the-range CD player. Her husband had gone all out. Leaving no expense spared.
Gordon was a diamond like that.
Crossing the main road, Louise turned into the narrow car park and immediately spotted her pride and joy. Sitting way back in the far corner, all on its own. A nearby street lamp lightly illuminating the pristine bodywork in all its glory.
The fact that there were no cars either side of it, no cars that end of the car park at all, pleased her no end.
She couldn’t wait to get inside now.
She’d put her new heated seats on. God, how had she ever lived without them? And stick that new CD of hers on too.
It might be almost midnight, but at least she’d have the delectable Michael Bublé to keep her company on her ten-minute drive home.
Bliss!
Routing around inside her handbag for her car keys, she recalled Gordon’s earlier phone call. How pleased with himself he’d sounded when he rang her this evening on her break, to tell her that he’d just finished his latest project: transforming the small decking area in their back garden.
He’d sanded it all down and installed some hanging baskets ready for their trip to the garden centre tomorrow on their day off.
But now she was going to have to come into work first thing in the morning to get this problem with Marie Huston reported officially.
It was a headache of sorts, but now that she’d finally confronted the girl, it was also a weight lifted from her shoulders.
She could be home by 10 a.m. and she and Gordon could still have their day together.
Louise was looking forward to buying some beautiful brightly coloured flowers and plants to fill them all, and he’d promised to treat her to a nice pot of tea and a scone in the little cafe there too.
The simple things in life, that was what life was really all about.
Enjoying each other’s company, and Gordon was always good company, Louise thought, as she neared her car.
Stepping in towards the edge of the car park, she heard another car pull into the car park behind her.
The rain was heavy now, lashing down in thick blanketed sheets.
The car was driving too fast, she thought, as she heard the roar of the engine, the vehicle skidding as it moved across the tarmac. The driver going way too fast.
‘Bloody idiots,’ she murmured, spinning around to get a good look.
She waved her arms at the clueless driver as she noted their headlights were out, too.
What kind of moron raced about at such speeds in this rain? They’d end up bloody killing someone if they weren’t careful.
But, too late, she realised that was their intention.
As the car hurtled towards her, rapidly now, Louise didn’t even have time to think.
It wasn’t going to stop.
It was coming at her. Deliberately aiming for her.
It all happened so quickly, so unexpectedly.
No sooner had the panicked scream escaped her mouth, the metal slammed into her. The impact so brutal that her body was sent flying through the air.
Her screams were suddenly silenced as her body landed with a thud on the cold, wet tarmac.
Her body twisted and broken, she whimpered, then,
for the driver to get out and help her.
Only the driver didn’t move.
Instead, they just sat there underneath a blanket of darkness. Watching.
She stopped the car.
Steadying her shaking hands she gripped the steering wheel tighter. Keeping her gaze fixed on the reflection in the rear-view mirror.
It was dark outside, and the rain was so heavy that she could barely see the road.
But she could see her.
Staff Nurse Louise Langton.
Or at least, the blurred outline of her silhouette on the ground behind her.
Her colleague’s twisted form. Face down in a puddle.
Her neck twisted at a peculiar angle from the rest of her body. Broken?
She wouldn’t have survived that, surely?
She was dead.
She had to be.
She’d killed her.
Her eyes were wide and alert now, as the realisation of what she’d done dawned on her.
Her heart pounding loudly inside her chest. Beating so hard that it echoed inside her head, inside her ears. The blood rushing.
BOOM. BOOM.
Her whole body was shaking. As if it was physically moving by the surge of adrenaline alone.
It was such a shame, it really was.
If only Nurse Langton had left things alone.
Still, she wasn’t finished yet. She knew what she needed to do.
Pushing the gear stick into reverse, she slammed her foot back down on the accelerator and shot the car backwards.
Wincing as the car jolted, her body lifting from the seat as she slammed into Louise Langton’s body for a second time.
Spinning the wheels, then, on top of her for good measure.
Before finally turning the car around, facing the entrance of the darkened car park.
Stationary once more. Before she glanced around to make sure that there was no one watching. That there were no witnesses.
She looked back down at the floor then. At her colleague’s mangled body, splayed out on the ground.
Unrecognisable now.
The puddle around Louise’s pulped body looked black in this light, expanding as it filled with what could only have been blood.
It had stopped raining now, as quickly and dramatically as the downpour had started.
Shit! she thought to herself sadly as she realised that Louise Langton was really dead.
That she’d done this.
Cursing her temper for getting the better of her.
The memories of her father, flooding her mind.
How he’d hurt her and Cassie. How she’d made him pay, too.
She winced again. Pushing the vivid recollection from her thoughts.
She always did that. Went too bloody far.
She could have hurt her, broken the woman’s legs. Only, clouded with venomous anger, she’d killed her.
That was such a shame.
Worse still, it could have all been prevented. If Louise Langton had only stayed out of Marie Huston’s business and hadn’t insisted on poking her nose into things that didn’t concern her.
First thing tomorrow morning she was going to report her, that’s what she’d said. She’d meant it, too.
Only now Louise Langton would never get that chance.
She took a deep breath in the hope of steadying her nerves, the pressure inside her head finally subsiding as she pressed her foot back down on the pedal once more, before racing out of the car park before she was seen by anyone.
Pushing all thought of the woman far from her mind.
There was no point on dwelling on it.
It was done now.
Louise Langton was dead.
Stupid woman.
Nothing and no one would stand in Marie’s way now. Not when it came to Daniel Byrne.
Twenty-Five
‘Are we going to see your friend today, Grandaddy? The lady who likes the hot chocolate, the same as me?’
Walking towards Richmond Park playground with his great-granddaughter’s hand tucked away tightly inside his, Michael Byrne nodded, before placing his finger on his lips.
‘Remember though, we don’t tell anyone about Grandaddy’s friends. Especially not Nanny Joanie, or Nanny Colleen. She’s our secret, okay?’
‘Okay, Grandaddy.’ Scarlett Byrne nodded. Only too happy to share a secret with her grandaddy, especially as it meant that this was the third trip to the park they’d gone on this week.
Michael dug his hands deep into his coat pockets then. Letting Scarlett off, so that the child could skip on, just ahead of him as he walked.
Alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t ignore the stab of guilt that consumed him.
He’d tried to convince himself that there was nothing to it, that he was just meeting a friend in the park. But was it any wonder that his conscience was eating away at him?
He knew damn well that he shouldn’t be keeping secrets from his Joanie again, and he certainly shouldn’t expect Scarlett to either. But he knew how the woman’s mind worked.
How she’d see this as something more than it was.
Technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. It wasn’t a crime, was it? To sit on a park bench and drink hot chocolate, while putting the world to rights. But because his new friend was a female, and attractive, well that changed everything, didn’t it?
So far it really had just been about companionship. Nothing more than that and he certainly wasn’t doing any harm. It wasn’t as if he was getting up to no good.
Chance would be a fine thing! Michael Byrne grinned to himself.
And there it was. The truth. The real crux of his guilt.
This was the reason he hadn’t told Joanie about the woman he’d been meeting up with in the park.
Because Michael Byrne actually liked this woman. He had the hots for this new friend of his, and in his defence, he didn’t know a red-blooded male that wouldn’t.
Far too young for Michael though, of course, not even thirty he guessed, but still, they’d somehow struck up a peculiar friendship of sorts. Talking of everything and nothing at all, so easy in each other’s company.
Completely harmless.
Though Joanie wouldn’t believe that for a second, especially if she clocked eyes on Michael’s new crush.
There was no denying that the girl was simply stunning. She had the looks of a model – a glamour model at that – and a wicked sense of humour, he thought, feeling that familiar stirring in his loins as he recalled their last encounter together just a couple of days ago when he’d had the craziest notion that, despite the forty-year age difference between them both, that she felt some kind of attraction towards him too.
Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, only he wasn’t convinced.
They certainly had a chemistry between them, he was sure of that. And the way she’d looked at him before he’d said goodbye – with such intent. Her hand ‘accidentally’ brushing against his knee as she spoke. He smirked. Aware that he was getting carried away with himself.
Though that was easily done, he figured, after living like a monk for the past four years; what with Joanie not interested in sex anymore, and him curbing his gallivanting ways, he’d been completely celibate.
The most affection the man ever got these days from Joanie was an awkward peck on the lips, or a stilted hug. The woman wasn’t interested in sex in the slightest. Michael wasn’t sure she’d ever been really.
His Joanie did love him though, he knew that. She must do, seeing as she was still with him after all these years. By rights, Joanie should have upped and left him years ago. Especially with all his carry on behind her back with all the other women over the years.
All his ‘indiscretions’.
The past four years though, he’d really made an effort to stay loyal to her. After their Jimmy had passed away, and Scarlett had come into their lives, he’d stepped up, finally committing himself to his wife at long last. Michael Byrne was a family man
now, and he vowed to himself that he’d stay faithful. Even if he did feel hornier than a dog with two dicks.
‘Wait by the railings, Scarlett!’ Michael shouted out as he approached the entrance of the park. Turning the corner, he saw her sitting in their usual spot, waiting for him.
She’d made a real effort today, he noted, in a short navy dress and matching heels. Her long hair, straightened. Smiling at her, as she threw him a wave.
‘Can I run on to the swings, Grandaddy?’ Scarlett screeched excitedly, as Michael laughed.
‘Go on then, I’ll be over on the bench.’
Walking towards her, he figured that even if she was one of those gold-digger types, what’s the worst thing that could happen?
That they’d flirt and maybe share a fumble. Until she found out the truth.
That every penny that Michael had ever owned went through his wife before it got to him. That his family might be as wealthy as fuck, but personally, Michael Byrne didn’t have a penny to his name.
Still, his new friend didn’t need to know any of that.
If she genuinely liked him for him, then that wouldn’t matter anyway. And if she was only after him for his money then Michael would be quids in either way.
Especially if he managed to get his leg over in the process.
‘Michael! You made it.’ Jess Green stood up, and hugged him, standing back then, her eyes twinkling with delight. ‘I started to think that maybe you weren’t coming.’ She placed her hand on the man’s arm as if they were old friends, lovers even.
Michael Byrne grinned. She was definitely flirting with him. Maybe it hadn’t been wishful thinking after all?
‘Of course I did. Couldn’t stand up a pretty young thing like you, could I now?’
Even if Jess was just after his money, which of course, he didn’t have, the only one hitting the jackpot would be Michael Byrne.
Either way, he couldn’t lose.
Twenty-Six
‘Scarlett, darling. Are you okay playing there in the sandpit? Grandaddy’s just going to nip to the loo. I’ll be five minutes, okay?’
The Forgotten_An absolutely gripping, gritty thriller novel Page 19
