The ambulance men shook their heads, now realising that his neck had been broken, he had suffered numerous broken bones as well as extensive internal bleeding, and they knew there was nothing they could do. Seeing them stop working on him Veronique screamed and pleaded and begged for them to save him but it was all too late.
The ambulance man carried him out to the ambulance and Veronique was running at the side of him trying to take him back into her arms. The policewoman followed behind watching her intently. She placed her hand on her, to try and calm her but Veronique didn’t notice.
“Oh my God, Oh my God. Oh my God.” Veronique repeated to herself in shock. She got into the ambulance with him and the policewoman joined her. One of the policemen closed her front door to her house and stayed behind waiting for forensics. Before the ambulance doors closed the policewoman spoke into her radio.
“I’m on my way to the hospital, Sir. No we don’t know what’s happened yet. But the scene is being preserved by PC Wade; he has stayed behind and the woman is with me and currently unable to answer my questions at the moment. The minor is deceased.”
Veronique heard none of this. She was holding onto Michael’s beautiful little hand and was speaking with him.
“Wake up baby, wake up. I love you. Wake up.”
At the hospital the nurses tried to see to Veronique’s wounds but she refused to be parted from Michael and so the nurses removed her blood soaked bathrobe where she was and were surprised to find her body was ok. She was bruised but she had no bleeding wounds underneath. They placed the bathrobe into a secure bag, provided to them by the police, and dressed her in a hospital gown, and then treated her broken nose and swollen mouth.
“Wake up baby, wake up.” Veronique repeated over and over again. “He has to wake up” she said to the nurse, through her copious free falling tears. The nurse smiled gently, knowing that she was in shock. The doctor would be giving her a sedative soon.
The door opened and Nico walked in. He had been crying and had red swollen eyes from the tears. Nico had returned to the house to be informed by the police of what had occurred and had come straight to the hospital. His belongings were still in the car.
“Oh Veronique.”
Nico took her into his arms. She melted into him and he felt her body, wracked with heart wrenching sobs, against him.
Over her shoulder, he saw Michael’s little body on the bed, and he silently cried, with her.
Chapter Twenty - Nico
As Nico held her in his arms, his own heart was breaking too. He had loved Michael as his own son. He didn’t quite understand what had happened. Only this morning they had all been happy. All of them about to start a happy new life, together, and now it was gone. Why did this happen? How did it happen? His heart ached at the thought of it all. Veronique seemed unaware of her bruised and battered face. Her eyes now black and swollen as well. Behind him, the door opened and the policeman, who had been assigned to protect them, stood in front of the door when the door opened. It was a policewoman and he stayed where he was.
“Excuse me, Sir. Could you come with me?”
“No. I can’t. She needs me.”
“It will just take a moment, Sir. I need to ask you a few questions.” Nico looked to the policeman. He nodded.
“I’ll stay with her until you get back.”
Nico reluctantly let go of Veronique. The moment she was gone from his arms, he felt bereft. He followed the policewoman from the room.
“Sir, we are trying to piece together the events of today. Can you help us?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you know who might do this? Who would? An ex-boyfriend maybe? Did she have an ex-husband? A jealous lover perhaps?”
“No.” He shook his head. “We were moving in together today. I just left them for a short while to get my things.” He held his head with his hands. “Only a short while. Why wasn’t I there to protect them? Why didn’t I take them with me? We were so happy. We were all laughing and smiling.” Nico started to ramble, “Michael was chuckling, you know. I changed his nappy today for the first time. The first time as his father.” He choked on the word father and the policewoman put her hand on his arm to comfort him as he cried openly in front of her. Her job was never an easy one; but days like today made it worse, she too wanted to cry today. The little boy looked like a little angel and this seemingly happy family had been torn apart by this brutal senseless killing.
“Is the little boy yours?”
“I don’t know. I loved him as mine.” The policewoman wrote his comments down. They would need DNA samples from everyone as part of their enquiries. That would be an answer they had soon. “He could be. I don’t care if he isn’t; I loved him, all the same. We worked together Veronique and myself. We started a relationship and she left. We lost touch and then we found each other again and decided to start again. We were so happy this morning. So very happy.”
“Well if you can think of anything Sir, please let us know. Anything at all.”
“Yes officer.”
He went back into the private room they had been given to use. Veronique was sat by the bed staring into space. Her hand still holding Michael’s. Once again, she had mentally sunk into the depths of shock and despair, a private world that only she could access. She was unaware that Nico had returned. He looked at Michael and felt the pain well up inside. How could anyone kill a child? An innocent. A child should only know of love and joy in the safety of their parent’s arms. What kind of a monster would do this?
He went over to the bed and picked his little body up and held him to him in a tight embrace. His body was now cooling to the touch, but Nico didn’t care. He sobbed into his neck as he murmured how much he loved him. He gently rocked Michael and he cried. Veronique looked at Nico.
“Shhh,” she said. “Don’t wake him.”
Nico looked at his little fingers, fingers that this morning had curled around his own, fingers that had pointed and poked as he laughed.
He would kill whoever had done this to them. Whoever had done this deserved nothing less. He would personally track him down and ensure that he watched the life leave his body. He laid Michael gently on the bed and went across the room.
“Sir.” He spoke to the policeman, “I have to go do something. I can’t explain right now. Can you please stay with Veronique and not leave her side until I get back? I want to make sure she is safe.”
“Of course. She will be protected.”
Nico drove back to the house like a maniac. He had no idea what he would find. Earlier that day, when he had left, everything had been fine. Now their world had been turned upside down. He had been happily packing his belongings, laughing with joy, as his world being crushed and his loved ones were in terror. When he had arrived at the house, a police car was outside and the police officer told him she was at the hospital, but not what had happened. He had raced to get there. The terror and anger that he felt when the police officer had told him to go to the hospital, had made his blood run cold, as though his own heart was being forcefully removed from his body.
Now he had to go back to the house and face whatever was there. Now he would be entering the house in very different circumstances. He was in a maelstrom of emotions, like a Pandora’s box had opened up, consisting of anger, fury, grief, pain, sadness, disbelief, shock, love and hatred all together. His emotions flitted from one to the other with only seconds apart, sometimes less. It was unbearable. Now he was in a murderous rage. A rage that called for blood, for revenge. Only that could end his suffering.
He walked up to the house and the path seemed much longer than before. Small sections had been roped off with bright yellow plastic strip with the word Police – Do not cross. Behind it, small areas had been marked in chalk and covered. In his mind’s eye, he saw the forensic crimes photographer taking pictures. Blood had been spattered all the way down the path.
He took out the keys she had given him that morning and let himself
in. He opened the door. Blood, now a deeper shade of burgundy, was everywhere. He sat down in the armchair and looked at everything and sobbed.
The police had been and left it exactly as they had found it. There were signs of a struggle. Carpets had been crumpled up, things knocked over and blood was splashed on the sofa. It was then that he realised some of the blood would be hers. He thought of her bruised and swollen face and he cried again. He felt weak with grief. He felt guilty that he hadn’t been there to protect them. He had failed them both when they needed him most. He felt useless. He put his face in his hands and wept. It was dark when he stopped crying. He had cried every last tear from his heart and he could cry no more.
Now he had to take action. He had to find who had done this and avenge the murder. He would find him, whoever he was. A thought hit him suddenly, when he had left that morning, he thought he had seen Matt, across the road sitting in a car. Thinking it was impossible at the time, however, he had dismissed the thought. How he wished he hadn’t. He wished he had stopped and spoken to him. Told him to go away. He wished he had taken Veronique and Michael with him. He wished he could turn back time. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure it had been him. All the pieces fit and as Nico thought about everything, it all started to make sense. It hit him like a sledgehammer; Matt did this. Matt had been the one that had beaten Veronique and killed Michael. When he had found Veronique unconscious by her pool, she was at home. Her own home. Matt was the man he had seen drunk in the street. The man cursing his sister. Matt was the reason she had run away. It was all Matt. Was Matt the father of Michael too? If so, had he known?
At the dawning realisation that Matt was the murderer and the reason that his whole life of happiness had been taken away, he felt the anger and pure hatred rising up inside him.
He wanted to murder Matt.
Chapter Twenty One - Ellen
Ellen opened her eyes. She was still in the same never ending nightmare; the one where she was in this room with the nurses. She always felt so tired. She went to sleep tired and woke up tired. When was she going to wake up properly? She moved her legs over the edge of the bed and walked to the same window that she looked out every day. The seasons had changed again. When she had started this dream, it was winter, wasn’t it? Now it was summer or had she arrived when it was summer? She couldn’t remember any more. Not that it really mattered. It was all a dream anyway. What did it matter what was happening outside? She suddenly saw something on the floor, something that hadn’t been there before. She shuffled over to it and stared at it. That was wrong. That shouldn’t be in her dream. That wasn’t there normally. She bent over and picked it up. It was a makeup compact, shiny and small. She went to open it, but the door opened and a nurse started coming in and so she put it in her pocket. She felt it in her hand; it was smooth and cool to the touch. She liked the feel of it in her hand in her pocket.
“Good morning, dear,” the nurse said without feeling. “Here is your breakfast. Eat it all up and you will feel better.” She shuffled over to the table where the nurse had placed the tray and she sat down, her hand still holding the compact inside her dressing gown pocket. The nurse left and instead of eating her breakfast she took out the compact. It held such fascination for her and she didn’t know why. It was something that was both strange and familiar to her at the same time. She clicked it open and recoiled in horror at the face she saw reflected within. A bloated fat and pale face. An ugly person with a terrible haircut; cropped badly around her face. She felt stunned at what she saw and yet, the face moved when she moved her face. Never in her worst nightmares had she looked like this and she refused to believe it was herself. Her hand came up and prodded the face, fingers with long curled over nails touched her face. She looked at her fingers in a daze and then looked at the length of the nails in wonder. It was as though she were seeing the hand for the first time. For the first time, since she had been there, she wanted to scream and she opened her mouth and shouted. Unintelligible words flowed from her mouth in a croaky voice, a voice that sounded rough, that didn’t sound like her own, and she shrieked loudly at the sound.
A nurse came running in, not the nurse from before, the one that brought the breakfast tray, but another.
“What’s the matter dear?”
“I want to see a doctor.” Her voice rasped through lack of use. “No. I want two doctors at once, together. NOW!” She shouted. The nurse scurried from the room.
By the time the doctors came to see her, she was pacing up and down in her room. She had not eaten breakfast and refused to drink anything offered to her. It was as though the veil of fog was being lifted from her with every passing minute of the day.
“Mrs Mellor! How wonderful to see you looking so well. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. Much. I want to know why I am here? How long have I been here? Who admitted me?
The doctors looked at each other and the one Ellen supposed was the senior of them both, nodded and then he began to speak.
“Your husband admitted you. You have been here for six months now. When you were admitted, you were incoherent.. You were unable to speak. You had been self harming to the point of having a broken arm. You were unable to walk without shuffling and you kept losing balance. It was felt that you would be safer here, under our care.”
“Excuse me, are either of you doctors one of them that admitted me?”
“No. He left a few months ago.”
“Right. What must I do to be discharged?” One of the doctors looked down at the admission papers which were in her file.
“Your file indicates that you have no restricted discharge so we would be able to discharge you into the care of a guardian, today, if you wished.”
“Actually Doctor, I must respectfully disagree. I do not believe that Mrs. Mellor is a threat to herself or others. If anything, I believe that she has shown no such threatening behaviour, nor self harmed at any point whilst she has been here, nor threatened to. She would be free to discharge herself and leave the premises by alone. Although I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Fine!” Ellen needed no further encouragement than this and without giving them a chance to discuss it further, thereby delaying her departure, she stated confidently, “ I hereby give you formal notice that I am discharging myself from your care from this moment onwards. Please kindly prepare the necessary paperwork. Furthermore I refuse all medications from you from now on. I also insist that no one, not even my husband is informed of my discharge. I’ll inform him myself.” Ellen felt wonderful. Just saying the words made her feel strong and in control. She looked down. “I do need clothes to wear and I require a small float to assist me to get home, which will be refunded when I get there.”
“There will be no need for that Mrs. Mellor. This is a private clinic. When you are ready a car will take you home. I shall ask someone to prepare your clothes. They should be in your wardrobe. You will need to sign some forms regarding your discharge from the clinic to remove us from any and all liabilities. If you still feel you need finances, we can also arrange a float for you and can place this on the final invoice for you.”
“Of course, whatever is deemed necessary. Now if you will excuse me, I need to shower and get ready to leave.”
The doctors were amazed by the sudden complete recovery and agreed that there was no legal reason they could withhold her or that she should remain in their care. As she showered, her clean clothes were laid on her bed. Her belongings consisted of a handbag containing her house keys, a lipstick and some small change.
It was a matter of only a few hours later when Ellen arrived at her home in London. She was tired, but felt extremely exhilarated by her journey and by her unexpected awakening and subsequent freedom. She tentatively opened the front door.
“Hello? Matt?” There was no reply and so she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She left the key in the lock on the inside so that no one else could enter the house whilst she was there. Her first
plan was to get a locksmith to change the locks, so Matt could not get in again, and the second was to pack her clothing and leave for an undisclosed location, whilst she sorted out her life. Later today, she would look at her bank account and see if Matt had done anything with that. For her sake, she hoped he hadn’t, but if he had, she would have to borrow off her parents. The locksmith arrived and within fifteen minutes she was holding new sets of keys to her door. She packed only the bare essentials that she needed.
Just as she reached the door to leave, the phone rang and she stopped in her tracks and stopped to listen to the message. The answer machine switched on after only two rings.
“Matt honey, it’s me. Your wife is out! She left the clinic! Don’t ask me how she did it. I left after this morning’s shift and when I got back on, she had discharged herself and gone. I swear I have been putting the nitrazepam in her food every day to keep her sedated and out of it. Honest.” The voice paused. “When will I see you again? It’s been ages since you came over. Weeks and weeks now. I so need a good loving. Miss you and see you soon, hopefully. Call me.”
If she didn’t already know, that was just the proof that she needed, that Matt, the bastard, had been behind it all along.
She picked up her case and left, locking the door behind her as she did so. She would phone a security service to guard the house in her absence so no one, but her, would be able to get in her home, ever again.
The following day, Ellen went to the hairdressers who fitted her with a very natural wig to hide the bad haircut she had been given whilst in care. She explained to her that she had just had a bad illness and her hair was about to return but in the meantime she wanted a wig that looked as natural as possible. When she left, she had also had a manicure and she looked almost like her old self. She went straight to her bank.
To Murder Matt Page 25
