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The Velvet Caress

Page 19

by C. P. Mandara


  'Jen? Am I dreaming?' I had to ask the question. At this moment in time I didn't trust my own judgment.

  A long scream then lit up the air and Jen's eyes went wild with fright. This dream was beginning to enter nightmare-land, much like all my other dreams of late. I had a suspicious feeling I was not about to enjoy this.

  'Get away from me. Police! Arrest him! He tried to poison me.' Jen reached for the panic button beside her bed and did her best to try and press it. In her weakened state it took a couple of attempts.

  I stood rooted to the spot. It was really about time I snapped out of this one. Behind me the nurse dropped something on the floor, but she didn't stop to pick it up. She ran out of the door as fast as she could and I was guessing she'd gone to fetch a doctor, or the police, or both.

  Jen smiled up at me ruefully, apologetically even, as the men in black burst into the ward looking for me. I didn't understand the look at all. What was going on here? This dream was absolutely surreal. There was no time to mess about though. Dropping my cell phone in her lap I said, 'Call Khalil. He'll explain everything. The code is the date of the Great Fire of London.'

  It took no time at all for my hands to be cuffed behind my back and for my body to be yanked upright. I screamed. Loudly. The pain was crippling. Should I be able to feel pain in a dream? I wasn't sure I had before. That would be an interesting question to ponder later. Right now I was being frogmarched down the corridor, and the police officers walked far faster than my back was comfortable with.

  'Let me explain. I can explain,' I said to them. Although I wasn't sure I could. What possible reason could Jennifer have for saying that? Only about a billion and one, my subconscious chimed. If you go to prison she gets rid of you for at least ten years, whilst having use of all of my possessions, and all of my money. It wasn't a bad deal. If she was lucky and got a shark for a lawyer she might get me put away for twenty years or more.

  Thankfully the fast march was brief. It wasn't long before I was sat down on a plastic chair in a small, nondescript room on the first floor. I was made to wait for an age before anyone came to talk to me and in this time I had figured out two things. One, the clock on the wall ticked infuriatingly loudly, and two, there was a good chance I was probably not dreaming. Several sharp pinches to my thigh had confirmed as much. This wasn't going to be one of my greatest days. I sincerely hoped my lawyer had eaten his Weetabix this morning. I had a feeling we were going to get quite chummy over the next few days.

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Jennifer

  My whole body felt it like had undergone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali. Everything hurt, without exception, and my head was spinning around in circles. If they'd given me pain meds I could quite honestly state that they were next to useless. Where was the morphine when you needed it? To make matters worse, there was some idiot talking nonsense next to me. Whilst the two sides of my brain were bashing against each other in earnest, trying their best to compose a symphony for headache of the year, someone was yanking my hand about and murmuring directly in my ear. If I'd had the energy I might have rolled over and punched them. As I didn't, I settled for sending them my darkest thoughts.

  It took me a while to fully regain consciousness, but eventually my light-headedness disappeared, although unfortunately the pounding head didn't. Anyway, my brain finally straightened itself out enough to recognize that the voice next to me was none other than my husband's and when I'd gotten over the shock of that, the words he was uttering nearly floored me. Had he just said he'd fallen for me back at Albrecht stables? My jaw wanted to hang open in shock, but I had a feeling that if I gave any indication of having heard a word he was saying, he would stop immediately. Figuring out that it might be in my best interests to hear the rest of this one-sided conversation, I kept my eyes closed and my body deathly still. This was good. It meant my husband was human after all. After the events at Escape I had begun to wonder. So, there I was happily throwing rose petals around in my brain, while decorating the walls with hearts and flowers. My husband cared about me! He wasn't the cold, heartless, total fucking moron that had given me quite a scare not so very long ago. Sure, he'd given me glimpses of something more, but then we usually had another setback and we were back at square one. Now we seemed to be making progress. Hallelujah! And then I heard them. Three tiny little words that I never thought would creep past Mark's lips. No way had I heard that right. Perhaps I was high on morphine after all. This would turn out to be one big hallucination and then I could go back to being miserable and suicidal. Actually, scrap that. This latest brush with death had been enough to scare the hell out of me. I couldn't quite believe that someone had managed to save me, and I knew it had been a close call. When my body had started to shut down I said my goodbyes and fully expected that to be that, only it wasn't. Here I was, with my billionaire husband whispering that he loved me. Hmph. I'm pretty sure that only happened in fairy tales. I went back to wondering what drugs I was on, and why they weren't doing a better job at managing my pain. Then he said them again. My brain stopped spinning for a minute. Could it be possible that Mark loved me? His recent actions had suggested anything but, yet here he was confessing all. Was it too much to hope for? Was I setting myself up for a fall? Probably, but the time had come where I should probably open my eyes and tell him I loved him too, although I suspected he probably already knew. Where Mark was concerned I was crap at hiding things. He always read me so well.

  Prising my eyelids apart it took a moment to adjust to the blinding white light all around me. My eyes felt like someone had pierced them with a dozen pins and needles, and they were so dry it felt like they were rubbing against sandpaper. I guessed this was the price you paid for surviving a near-death experience. When I finally managed to focus on Mark it was to find him looking up at the ceiling. He was telling me that I would never manage to divorce him, which if I'd been feeling better would have been rather funny. I'd tried to tell him again and again that divorce wasn't on the cards, and that he'd be stuck with me forever. I didn't have much choice in the matter. Now that the tables had turned I wondered what had changed? Oh yes, he loved me. It seemed nearly dying was an excellent thing to do if you wanted to get some affection around these parts.

  When Mark finally looked down it was to find me staring at him. It gave him quite a shock. I blinked twice. I then heard him ask me if he was dreaming. It was a good question, and I was beginning to wonder the same thing. Mainly because there was a rather scary nurse wielding a large syringe behind me, who was coming straight for Mark. She looked like she meant business, too. When she pulled her arm back and got ready to plunge the thing into Mark's body I screamed. There was little else I could do. I'd just remembered my mother's little visit and I suspected this was all her doing.

  'Get away from me! Police!' I shouted whatever I could think of to get someone come running and quick. Thankfully the volume of my voice must have shocked the nurse, because she dropped the syringe she was holding and looked around wildly. By some miracle there must have been some officers nearby, because two policemen entered the room in short order and it sent the nurse running for cover. I guessed they'd been waiting in the corridor to question Mark or me, and thank God for that. If they hadn't been it was quite possible the nurse would have given it another shot. Mark was a big guy, but I'm telling you she would have given him a run for his money.

  Looking apologetically up at Mark there wasn't much else I could do except watch him be cuffed and led away. I didn't feel guilty. Although I had no idea what my mother was really capable of, I figured he'd be safer spending the night in a jail cell than wandering about town. It wouldn't take me too long to figure out how to get him out, just as soon as I'd had some time to sit down and think. If the worst came to the worst I'd just tell the officers the pain meds had addled my brain. At the moment that was probably half true anyway.

  'Call Khalil. He'll explain everything.' They were the last words he said to me. He then dropped his cell phone on my bedcover,
while the officers wasted no time in getting him under control.

  Watching Mark as he was yanked upright I heard him scream, and wondered what had happened. It was unlike Mark to show any kind of weakness, and from what I'd seen they hadn't been too rough with him. Had it been a scream of frustration? No. It was far too loud and I knew pain when I heard it. Something had happened to him. I had no idea what, but I'd find out soon enough. This 'Khalil' guy would probably be a good place to start, if I could ever work out how Mark's phone worked. Still, it would be an entertaining initiative test. Once this headache had gone I would get right on it.

  'Mrs Matthews? How do you feel?'

  Another nurse was standing beside me, looking a little concerned at all the ruckus that had just ensued. I was going to hope this lady wasn't also under the employ of my mother.

  'I've felt better,' I answered truthfully.

  She pulled my chart off my bed and made some kind of note on it, and then she smiled at me. 'The doctor's been called and he'll be here in just a minute. Is there anything you need right now? Some water, perhaps?'

  I nodded immediately in response to her question. My mouth was dryer than the Nevada dessert in the heat of summer, and my scream had been weak at best. At least it had done the trick. 'Yes please,' I whispered.

  'Does anywhere hurt? Do you need something for the pain?' She fiddled with the IV beside my bed, and noted that it needed changing.

  'Everywhere hurts,' I said. 'Pain meds would be good.'

  She nodded. I'll let the doctor know and we'll get you sorted out in no time.

  'Do you want me to put the TV on for you while you're waiting? Get you a magazine to read, perhaps?'

  I shook my head. Either of those options was out of the question with my pounding head. I was happy to lie back, close my eyes, and wait impatiently for the doctor.

  'The police officers will be back shortly. They want to speak to you about the night you were poisoned. Did you want me to fend them off for the time being?'

  'Please. My head is playing Guns and Roses and the tune is not one of their better ones.'

  She laughed at me. Okay. I can get them to go away until tomorrow at least, but they'll be back. Right, let me go and get you some water. By the way - welcome back to the land of the living. It was touch and go there for a while.' She didn't need to tell me that. I could feel it in every single bone in my body. The nurse then smiled at me, before she strolled out of the ward.

  The poor woman probably thought I was crazy. One moment I was screaming the house down claiming that my husband was a murderer, and in the next I was cool as a cucumber and asking for a glass of water. Mind you, she'd probably seen stranger things.

  Grabbing Mark's iPhone I pressed the button to turn it on and was immediately presented with a request for a code. Shit. He'd told me something about a code. What had he said? It was a date of some kind, I think, but it had completely slipped my mind. I banged my head on the pillow in frustration. It would be some cataclysmic date in history, no doubt - the trouble was, which one? I flicked through some important ones in my head, hoping inspiration would strike. The Black Death, The Spanish Armada, Battle of Trafalgar, Waterloo, Union of England and Scotland, Discovery of America by Columbus, The Great Fire of London. Yes. That was it. I was nearly positive that was what he'd said. Now I just had to figure out what the date was. I'd never been that great at history at school, so I would need to ask someone or resort to Googling. Unfortunately, without the code for the damn phone I had nothing to Google on.

  When the doctor came in ten minutes later I was sat there with my glass of water and a big frowny face. Whilst I knew I would never get the date all by myself, I had tried my best to narrow it down to the approximate decade. I was going for somewhere around the 17th century, and in the middle-ish.

  'How are you feeling Mrs Matthews?' Dr Menzies, according to his name badge, was extremely keen to find out as he was already waving a little torch at my eyes.

  'Not bad, considering. I'm alive and I have water, so it could be worse.'

  He laughed at me. 'The nurse says you'd like a little something for the pain, is that right?'

  I nodded. 'I've got an almighty headache. If you could take the edge off it that would be lovely.'

  'I think we can do that. Okay, Mrs Matthews. You've been through quite an ordeal in the last few days and we need to run some tests just to make sure everything is functioning as it should. After that we'll get you some of the good stuff.' He winked at me. 'Do we have a deal?'

  'We do. Just one thing before you begin, though. Is there some way I can get on the Internet around here? I don't seem to have my phone with me, and just wondered if there was some way I could get in touch with my friends and family.' A complete lie, but he didn't have to know that.

  'Ah, no problem. The TV set has an Internet connection built into it and there's a controller for it in your bedside table. As soon as I've finished with you we'll get the nurse to show you how it works.'

  'Perfect.' I smiled. That was one problem solved but I suspected there would be plenty more in its wake.

  The tests were endless. They seemed to want all of my blood, and little vials of the stuff were being shipped off everywhere. Then they played about with reflexes and strength tests, and did a tolerable job of making sure my brain and memory were intact. When one was completed there was another one immediately on its heels. I knew they were doing this for my benefit and trying to make sure I was okay, but I had things to do and people to free from prison. These people needed to get a wriggle on!

  When I grew fidgety they told me in no uncertain terms that I was lucky to be alive and that I shouldn't take it for granted that there would be no side effects from the poisoning episode. This was obviously what they were trying to discern. Would I come away from here in the same shape as I had been a few days ago, or would I be left with some long-term nastiness? The thought was worrying enough that I kept perfectly still until the last test had been completed.

  When they were satisfied that I was fine, or as fine as I could be for now, they finally left me alone for a while - with the threat that some lunch would be arriving shortly. I wrinkled my nose up at that. The last thing I felt like doing was eating. Fortunately I'd now been given some decent pain killers, so at least it was unlikely that I'd kill the poor lady or gentleman who was going to have the unfortunate task of serving me. Anyway, enough about that; it was time to surf the net.

  It didn't take me long to find the controller which would let me access the TV screen. There was a bit of a setback when I realized I would need five pounds to access it, especially as I knew I didn't have any cash on me when I was admitted here. Apparently I needed to buy a TV card and that was going to be tricky. The dress I'd been wearing had barely enough room in it for me, let alone anything else. I sighed. Looking through my bedside drawer revealed what I already suspected - there was no money to be found. So what was a girl to do?

  Looking around the room I found only one other patient. He was fast asleep, had tubes and wires all over him, and didn't look like he was going to wake up any time soon. First I had to deal with my own moral dilemma though. Could I steal from a critically ill person? I thought about it long and hard, and decided I could. For starters, I was now a millionairess. I could repay him back ten times over and pay for enough hospital TV to last him a lifetime. Secondly, time was of the essence. My husband was going to jail, and since I'd put him there it was probably not advisable to leave him there too long. I didn't think Mark was going to take to the new experience with whoops of joy.

  It took all of thirty seconds to steal a fiver from the poor man's wallet. If you want to know if I felt guilty, I did, but I'd already checked his name on his hospital chart and promised myself that he would paid back with interest. That eased my conscience somewhat.

  My next challenge was to find a TV card vending machine and that probably meant getting past the nurse's station. The things a girl had to do to get a little entertainmen
t around these parts! To give me my dues I tried to creep around in my hospital gown, and that was mighty drafty, let me tell you. It was also rather hard to sneak about when you had to drag your IV line and catheter with you. Of course I was immediately frowned upon as soon as my feet reached the floor and ordered to get straight back in bed. Plot foiled. So I settled for pleading with the nearest nurse, picking one who was still smiling after a long shift, to buy it for me. Lo and behold the adorable lady promised to do exactly that, and I wanted to kiss her. After thanking her profusely I snuggled back in my bed and waited. That should have been my excitement over for the day. My blood pressure was being recorded, so it would have been sensible to sit there quietly whilst taking comforting sips of my water. Oh, that would have been bliss. Unfortunately nothing was going my way lately and it seemed it was set to stay that way for the foreseeable future.

 

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