One Night to Wed

by Alison Roberts

  'Nobody that weighed anything like as much as you do.'

  'My apologies.' The narcotic pain relief had restored much of Seth's good humour. 'I could have walked, you know. I seem to remember it was you that insisted on playing the hero.'

  'Walked? On that ankle? I don't think so.'

  'The bullet didn't even come out the other side. It was only a ricochet. My ankle probably isn't even broken.'

  'It's broken all right. You know as well as I do how dangerous a high-velocity bullet is when it bounces. You're bloody lucky it was your ankle and not your head.'

  'Yeah. Did you see the holes left by the bullets that went into that water tank instead of bouncing off?'

  'Yeah. It looked like some attraction at a water park.' Angus could hear the sound of the helicopter taking off. Had Fliss gone in the helicopter with the other doctor assigned the care of the most critically injured victim from this incident? Craning his neck, he could see outside where the flap of the tent had been pinned back. The ambulance was coming back.

  'Got to go,' he informed Seth. 'You'll be well looked after by these guys.'

  'They've done a better job than you so far,' Seth agreed with a grin. 'I feel great.'

  Angus shook his head as he moved away but had to pause at Seth's quiet call.

  'Hey...Gus?'

  'Yeah?'

  'Thanks, mate.'

  'You're welcome. All part of the service.'

  Assisting his colleague after he'd been hit in that final showdown had simply been part of his job. A job that Angus felt quite confident that he was leaving behind as he strode out of the tent. The thought did not provoke any regret, however. If this was the way forward so that he and Fliss could be together, then he would never have any regrets.

  Angus tapped on the driver's window of the ambulance as the vehicle stopped outside the tent.

  'Did Dr Slade go on that chopper with the boy?'

  'No.' John gave Angus a curious glance. 'Fliss stayed at the medical centre. She's still got some patients she's waiting to evacuate.'

  'You going back there, then?'

  'Nope. Another truck went in to get them. I've got an injured cop to take to the airport. There's a fixed-wing plane waiting to transfer him to Christchurch.'

  Angus nodded but said nothing. He was looking around him now, wondering if there were any other vehicles that could hasten his journey back to Morriston's medical centre.

  There were too many people. Too much noise. A second helicopter was coming in to land and a convoy of army trucks rumbled past. He could go and find his squad and ask for assistance but the likelihood of being detained for some kind of debrief made it an unattractive option.

  Angus did not want to be detained. When a television camera and a determined-looking young woman holding a microphone made a beeline for his position, a plan of action was easy to formulate.

  'Sorry,' Angus told the reporter. 'Can't stop.'

  He turned in the direction of the bridge but the army vehicles were blocking the access, forcing Angus to take a longer route. He missed seeing the arrival of a second ambulance into the domain as he shouldered his way through the portions of the crowd he couldn't avoid. As soon as it began to thin out and he got out of the gates and within sight of the bridge, Angus broke into a steady jog.

  A helicopter was touching down as the ambulance inched its way through an astonishingly large crowd of people. Having passed a wall of army trucks, it stopped outside the first-aid station where a medical team was waiting to take over the care of its passengers.

  Fliss was kept busy with a detailed handover until both Maria and Roger were comfortably settled, having been reassessed prior to their journey to hospital. She went with them to the helicopter and then waited until it took off. The blast of air whipped strands of hair across her face but she could see Ben waving from his seat beside the pilot.

  She waved back. Then she pushed aside the hair obscuring her vision and turned towards the crowd in the domain. Angus had to be somewhere close by.

  There were uniforms everywhere. Ordinary police uniforms, the black outfits of the armed-offender squads and here and there the distinctive SERT colours. They were all tall, solid men and each time Fliss caught sight of one, her heart pounded with anticipation. But each time, as she got closer, she could see that none of them was Angus.

  They would know where he was, though, wouldn't they? Her attempt to get close enough to speak to one of his colleagues was thwarted more than once.

  First it was by a distraught woman that Fliss barely recognised as the mother of the Johnston twins.

  'They haven't found him yet, have they?'

  'Cody? Not as far as I've heard. I'm sorry, Jenny.'

  'They won't let me go and look.'

  'There must be a small army of people looking by now.' Fliss tried to sound reassuring. 'They'll find him soon.'

  'I should have gone with Callum, but how could I? One of us had to stay for Cody.'

  'Of course you did. I know how hard this is for you, Jenny. I wish I could do more to help.'

  'Are you going back over the bridge? To the medical centre?'

  'I...um...' Fliss wanted to stay where she was. It was the most likely place she was going to find Angus in a hurry.

  'If you do, you could watch out for Cody. I can't understand why he wasn't with Callum. They're never more than spitting distance apart, those two.'

  Fliss put her arm around Jenny, leading her towards the Red Cross tent where she knew the twins' mother would get the support she needed. Her ordeal was far from over.

  And Fliss had her own unfinished business—if only she could get on with it.

  The media had other ideas.

  'Are you Morriston's doctor? Can you tell us about what's been happening?'

  'How many people have been killed?' A microphone appeared from nowhere, too close to her face for comfort.

  'What kind of injuries did people have?'

  'How serious were they?'

  Fliss put up a hand to shield her eyes from the spotlight beside the television camera pointing at her face.

  'You'll have to talk to the police,' she told them. 'I'm really not in a position to make any comment at this stage.'

  'But you were there. We want to hear what you have to say.'

  Fliss shook her head. She waved towards the huge truck that was providing the base for the police.

  'Go over there,' she told the reporters firmly. She kept her arm out to push her way through the knot of people. 'I have to go. Excuse me.'

  The police truck was where she should have been heading herself. She had promised Ross Stringer that she would be back when the helicopter had taken off, in order to provide the statement he was still waiting for regarding her version of the night's events. She could see him over there now, his head turning as he scanned the crowd, probably looking for her.

  Fliss wasn't ready to sit down and talk to anybody just yet. Or maybe one person...if she could find him. She ducked past an empty ambulance and made a beeline for a SERT member.

  'Where's Angus?' she asked. 'Angus McBride?'

  The man was smiling at her. 'Hey, you're Fliss, aren't you? Are you OK?'

  The warmth of the greeting was confusing. Fliss peered up at the man.

  'I'm Tom,' he said. 'Another paramedic, like Gus. I met you a while back at a station barbecue, remember?'

  Fliss could see past the camouflage crayon now. 'Tom,' she said delightedly. 'Of course I remember. You must know where Angus is. I really need to talk to him.'

  But Tom shook his head. 'I haven't seen him since we got split up at the start of this operation. I'm not even sure if he and Seth made it to the rendezvous. All hell broke loose there for a while.'

  'I know. I heard it.'

  'He was having trouble with his radio earlier. That might still be causing problems.'

  'Seth's radio was working. They'd still be together, wouldn't they?'

  'Should be.'

  Angus h
ad been prepared to let his partner go without him, though, hadn't he? He'd been willing to break protocol to stay with her.

  Tom could see her anxiety. 'Don't worry,' he said. 'They're probably on their way back. They'll turn up soon enough.'

  Soon wasn't good enough. Fliss wanted to see Angus now. To reassure herself that he was safe.

  The tap on her shoulder made her jump.

  'You got time for that statement now?' Ross asked.

  'Ah...' Fliss looked longingly at the gates of the domain. At the road leading to the bridge and back into Morriston. She wanted to run across that bridge and through the narrow, dusty streets. Calling for Angus and searching until she found him.

  'Dr Slade?' Another police officer joined Detective Inspector Stringer. A man who had even more decoration on the epaulettes of his shirt.

  'Yes?'

  'You're the only doctor we have available on scene right now. Could you come with me, please?'

  'Of course. Is someone hurt?'

  'Dead,' the man said succinctly. 'We need some paperwork done for confirmation before we seal the scene for later investigation.'

  Fliss shivered as a chill snaked down her spine. She was too frightened to ask whether this had anything to do with the missing SERT members.

  'Constable Bowden will take you in,' she was told. 'We've got a car waiting.'

  'Make sure she gets brought straight back,' Ross said. 'I've got an interview lined up with Dr Slade.'

  Fliss could say nothing.

  She couldn't do this.

  She had to do this.

  She had to know. This waiting and not knowing was unbearable.

  With her heart in her mouth and her knees weak enough to make her stumble on her first step, Fliss followed her new police escort.

  Back into Morriston.

  Back to find out whether she still had any hope of the future she wanted.

  The protocol for confirming cessation of life was merely a formality.

  Nobody could have survived a head wound like that.

  Self-inflicted.

  Whatever—probably drug-induced—demons that had led Darren Blythe to help prolong the terror suffered by the inhabitants of Morriston for nearly twelve hours had been silenced for ever.

  Fliss did what she had to do, checking for any signs of life. Of course, she found nothing. She filled in and signed the required paperwork and handed it to the officer in charge of the scene. Then she stepped out from the tarpaulin screen erected to prevent the image of Darren's body making its way to the front page of some newspaper.

  Constable Bowden was waiting for her. 'You all right?'

  Fliss gave a single, curt nod. What a silly question.

  'You look awfully pale.'

  'I don't like suicides.' Fliss swallowed with difficulty. 'In fact, I'd appreciate a few minutes to myself if that's OK.'

  She could see her escort debating whether to remind her of the interview she was supposed to be taken straight back to.

  'It's a personal thing,' she added quietly. 'My mother committed suicide.'

  The police officer looked shocked. 'That's awful!' he exclaimed. 'I'm so sorry.'

  'It was a long time ago.' Fliss was amazed it had been so easy to tell a stranger when it had only been a few hours ago that she had talked about it for the first time. And she had managed to say it without being overwhelmed by grief. Or guilt.

  Something huge had changed tonight.

  It felt like a new page of her life had been opened.

  A fresh, clean page.

  'Take all the time you need,' Constable Bowden told her. 'I'll wait for you here.'

  The conclusion to the incident at Morriston had occurred near the bottom of the hill that led to Jack's house. Not far from the smouldering remains of the cottage that had been Darren's home.

  Fliss saw the volunteer firemen working to dampen down the hot spots. Had the fire been an accident? Or had Darren thought he was somehow covering his trail and that destroying his dwelling would keep him hidden from the men he'd had good reason to be so afraid of?

  It was a question unlikely to ever be answered and maybe it needed to be left in what was, thankfully, becoming the past.

  With an unconscious resolve to move on, Fliss began walking away from the remnants of the fire.

  Away from the activity as crime-scene tapes were being stretched between trees to contain the area where Darren had died.

  If she walked a little way up the hill towards Jack's house, Fliss knew she would get a good view of the sea. With some distance from the sounds of the people getting started on the clean-up phase of the night's horror, she might be able to hear the wash of surf on the pebble beach below and find a moment or two of peace.

  Nobody had yet taped the section of the street where two small bicycles lay abandoned. The forlorn sight was enough to stop Fliss in her tracks as she remembered the anguish in Jenny Johnston's eyes. Fliss bowed her head for a moment, hoping desperately that Jenny's missing son would be found soon. Unscathed. And that her injured son would make it through the surgery he was probably undergoing right now.

  'Fliss?'

  The call was so quiet, Fliss thought she had imagined it. A memory from another hope that nothing could suppress. A voice she had been desperate to hear again.

  Her eyes flew open. She hadn't imagined the call. Angus was climbing the hill. He looked out of breath, as though he had been running for some time but he wasn't running now. He seemed almost hesitant—unsure of whether his presence would be welcome.

  'Gus.'

  Fliss had been hoping for a moment of peace in solitude but being alone was the last thing she really wanted. It was far, far better to forgo a peaceful calm in favour of this flood of pure joy. Sheer relief to see that Angus was safe and an overwhelming gratitude that she was being given the chance to say the things she would have regretted leaving unsaid for the rest of her life.

  Angus had stopped now. Fliss could see a muscle in his jaw twitching and when he spoke his voice was raw with emotion.

  'I've been looking for you, Fliss.'

  'I'm here.'

  'Yes.' Angus was smiling. That wide smile Fliss loved so much with those delicious upward curls at the corners. But Fliss could also see tears in his eyes.

  'I was looking for you, too,' she said softly.

  'Were you?'

  'Yes.' Fliss ignored the tears she could feel gathering in her own eyes. 'There was something I wanted to tell you. Something I should have said a lot earlier tonight.'

  'What was it?'

  'That I love you.' Fliss had to choke back a sob. 'I always have, Gus, and.. .and I always will.'

  Fliss never knew whether it was her that stepped towards Angus or whether he strode forwards to catch her in his arms. It didn't matter.

  All that mattered was that they were close enough to touch. To cling to each other tightly enough to feel the beat of each other's hearts. To taste the tears that mingled as their lips met.

  It was not a gentle kiss and it was as brief as it was intense, but it carried a depth of emotion that Fliss would never forget.

  And somewhere in that physical contact was a reminder of what they had once shared and a promise that it could be even better from now on.

  Precious.

  That unspoken promise had to be enough for now. This was certainly neither the time nor place to rekindle passion.

  Fliss pulled back from Angus reluctantly. 'I have to go back to the domain,' she said. 'There's a police officer who's waiting to interview me.'

  'I should be there as well.' Angus sighed agreement but wasn't releasing his hold on Fliss. 'I haven't been officially stood down yet so I'm probably in trouble for going off to look for you.'

  'How much trouble?'

  Angus smiled. 'It doesn't matter. I'm going to resign from the squad in any case.'

  'What?' Fliss was shocked. 'Why?

  'I've had a chance to reassess my life in the last few hours. My job broke us up,
Fliss.' Angus stroked his fingers gently down her cheek. 'I'm not about to risk that happening again.'

  'No.' Fliss shook her head. 'You love what you do. You're not the only one who's had a chance to think about things, Gus. Last night I realised what it's like to be waiting for someone like you to come and help. What you do is special. It takes far more courage than most people have. I'm proud of you.'

  'You should be proud of yourself,' Angus responded softly. 'You've faced far worse things than I ever have.'

  'Only when I've had no choice. You were right, hon. I ran away when things got difficult between us.'

  'I won't let that happen again. I don't need this job, my love. I need you.'

  'And I need you.' Fliss pressed herself closer to the man she loved. 'So much.'

  'We can make it work this time.'

  'Yes.'

  A single word but Fliss knew nothing more needed to be said for now. Once-locked doors had been opened between them, thanks to the emotional trauma of what they had both been through in a single night, and what they'd discovered had given them the kind of closeness and understanding that would take them well into the future.

  Together.

  One of those doors had provided access to memories that were still surfacing as the sun inched its way higher on the horizon.

  When Fliss and Angus managed to separate their physical contact enough to simply hold hands as they started their return to the domain and the duties still required of them, a startlingly vivid memory made Fliss pause and tug Angus to a halt.

  'I had a macrocarpa hedge like that around the property I grew up in,' she told Angus.

  'Oh?' Fliss couldn't blame, Angus for sounding somewhat bewildered by her apparently irrelevant comment.

  'They're weird things, macrocarpa hedges,' she continued steadily. 'They look all solid from the outside but they have all this dead space around the trunks in the middle.'

  She could see the spark of comprehension in those dark eyes and the lines of exhaustion softened as Angus turned his head to glance at the bicycles lying in the street. Fliss loved Angus for the way he was so prepared to listen.. .and the way he had no trouble following her line of thought.

  'My hedge had this tunnel and you could crawl from one end right to the other.'