Chapter 25
Henry Darlington at Rock Bottom: Is Drug Addiction Ruining His Life?
OK! Magazine headline
Grace
“How’s Henry doing?” I asked Kate over the phone.
It had been a week now since his addiction went public, and we hadn’t seen each other for a few days.
The hotel had been chaos, and work had been just as hectic for Kate.
Her boss, Tilly, was on holiday, and of course every possible disaster had struck in her absence.
It was a true test for Kate—which she’d been handling perfectly.
“Not so well,” she replied with a heavy sigh. “It’s really taking a toll on him. Just like this trial. It feels like something’s always going wrong at the moment. Rose probably told you about the health inspection.”
“Yes. She said it was pretty strange. She wasn’t there on the day, but apparently, the inspector had all kinds of gripes, even though the kitchen meets all the cleanliness standards and there shouldn’t have been any violations.”
“Weird,” Kate muttered. I could hear a coffee machine rattling in the background.
“Maybe The Darlington was on their radar because of Richard and the trial, and they decided to lash out at the restaurant? Luckily, Henry managed to sort everything out. The last thing we need is the restaurant being shut down.”
“I don’t even want to imagine the headlines.” I stepped aside to make way for a wheelchair user passing me on their way into St. Thomas’ Hospital.
Today was the day. I was done being ghosted by Garrett.
I was going to take matters into my own hands—even though the thought of entering the hospital made me shudder, which was why I’d been putting it off for weeks.
But I couldn’t and wouldn’t keep delaying the visit.
There might be information in Amy’s file that could help us.
I was still on the phone to Kate outside when a drop of rain landed on my cheek.
Glancing up, I found myself looking straight at a wall of dark rain clouds.
Another drop landed on my forehead. That was my cue to go in and finally get it over with.
It didn’t matter how long I waited; it wouldn’t get any easier.
“I have to go. But film night tomorrow is still on?”
“Of course. Will you let Rose know?”
“I will. See you then!”
“See you then!” Kate echoed before we hung up.
I put my phone away and turned to the hospital entrance.
Every fibre of my being was screaming at me to turn around and get out of here.
Reading Amy’s medical file would be like pouring salt into a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal yet.
But if there was anything in there that could give us a lead on finding her killer, the pain would be worth it.
I squared my shoulders and stepped into St. Thomas’ Hospital.
There wasn’t much going on at the moment, so it was pretty quiet, but the place still had a hectic energy.
The staff flitted around silently, and whispered words floated from every corner.
It smelled of disinfectant and cleaning products, a mix that stung not just my nose but my eyes as well.
Though perhaps that was just the tears I was already holding back.
I blinked and stepped up to the information desk.
Unlike the man at the police station, the woman behind the counter greeted me with a gentle smile. Fine lines appeared around her eyes.
“Hello. How can I help you?”
“Hi. I’m looking for Garrett Griffiths. He’s a medical student and works here at the hospital.” At least, I hoped he still worked here. I hadn’t considered until now that he might have left. But the woman behind the counter nodded.
“May I ask what this is about?”
“The accident involving his girlfriend, Amy Claymore. I’m her sister, Grace.”
The woman’s eyes softened sympathetically. “I heard about that. My condolences to you and your parents.”
“Thank you. So, could I speak to Garrett, please? It’s urgent.”
“I’ll see what I can do. You can take a seat for a moment.”
I thanked her again and sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs.
They reminded me of the police station—and of Ethan.
I wished he were here to have my back, perhaps even to hold my hand.
But he was in Cambridge for the weekend visiting his best friend James.
I missed him more than I ever could have imagined, which was a pretty alarming realisation.
I didn’t know what had happened during the two months I’d been away from the hotel, but it was clear Ethan had changed during that time.
It was as though a switch had been flipped in his head.
The selfish, arrogant, self-absorbed playboy had somehow turned into a considerate, helpful, and attentive man—one who could very well be my downfall if I wasn’t careful.
Because no matter how much I might want to, I couldn’t give him my heart.
It was too broken. And you shouldn’t gift broken things.
I pulled out my phone to message him anyway.
Me:
How’s Cambridge?
His reply came almost instantly: a selfie of him and James on the sofa in James’s flat.
In the background, a huge TV showed whatever game they were playing, and the table in front of them was covered in takeaway boxes.
But my eyes lingered on Ethan, who grinned into the camera with tousled hair and, unusually for him, a hint of stubble.
Me:
You look happy.
Ethan:
I’d be even happier if you were here.
Me:
You’re sweet.
Ethan:
I know. What am I missing in London?
Me:
Not much. I’m at the hospital.
I had just pressed send when my phone started ringing. Ethan. I declined his call.
Me:
Don’t worry. Nothing’s happened. I just want to get hold of Amy’s medical file. Maybe there’ll be something in it that could help us.
Ethan:
Don’t scare me like that! I was all set to hijack James’s Maserati.
“Grace?” I looked up to see Garrett a few steps away.
He’d changed quite a bit since Amy’s funeral.
His auburn hair was shorter now, and he’d grown a moustache that made him look older than his twenty-six years.
Though that also might have been thanks to the dark circles under his eyes.
I wondered if they came from working night shifts or from grief over Amy.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Hey, so you’re still alive.”
He grimaced. “Sorry I never called you back.”
“Let me guess. You were busy.”
“That too. But mostly I was trying to avoid you,” Garrett confessed, running his hand over his cropped hair. His honesty caught me off guard. “You just look so much like her. You’re even wearing her coat.”
I stroked the mustard-yellow fabric. “It reminds me of her.”
He nodded. “I still have her things at my place. One of my flatmates packed them into a box so I don’t have to keep looking at them, but I still take them out every day. I just can’t let her go.”
I bit back the remark that he should have shown this much interest in Amy when she’d still been alive. But reproaching him wouldn’t change anything. At worst, it would annoy him, and I needed his help.
“I need to ask you a favour,” I said, not acknowledging his confession. “Is there any chance I could take a quick look at Amy’s medical file?”
Garrett stared at me for a moment with the same pained look in his eyes that my parents had. I wasn’t sure he’d even understood my question.
“Garrett?”
“Sorry.” He blinked, pulling himself together. “Do you have a court order giving you access to her file?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t. I was hoping we could sort it out between us.”
Garrett stiffened and shot a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure nobody had heard. “That would be illegal,” he said through clenched teeth.
“It’s really important.” I couldn’t—and didn’t want to—take the official route.
Firstly, processing my application would take weeks.
Secondly, there was no guarantee I’d be granted access to the file.
And thirdly, I didn’t want to risk the wrong people, or even my parents, getting wind of what I was doing.
Garrett pressed his lips together. “I could get into real trouble.”
“Please,” I begged. “It’ll only take a minute. For Amy?”
He was silent for a few seconds, and I thought he would send me away, but then he surprised me again. “Fine. But if you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny everything. Understood?”
I nodded.
Garrett sighed. “Come on, then.”
Heart pounding, I followed him. We didn’t talk as we walked side by side, even though it was now clear to me that we shared the same pain. We stopped outside a door, and Garrett checked that the room was empty before we slipped inside.
It was an archive of sorts, with a desk and a computer. I looked around while Garrett logged in to the computer. His concentrated expression gradually gave way to one of confusion.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
He shook his head, a puzzled look on his face. “Amy’s file isn’t where it’s supposed to be. And neither is her pathology report. They should be right here.” He pointed at the empty screen.
“Could the files have been saved somewhere else?”
“No. This is the only system we use. You enter the patient’s name and date of birth, or their patient number, and all the records come up.
Maybe the system’s just acting up. That sometimes happens.
” He shrugged, but I knew better. This was no accident.
And the system wasn’t to blame either. Whoever was responsible for Amy’s death had tried to erase their tracks here as well.
“I’m sure it’ll work again tomorrow,” Garrett continued. “I’ll let IT know. They’ll fix it.”
I gave a tight smile, because I already knew that would do no good. IT had probably already been bribed to delete the files themselves. I changed tack. “Did you read Amy’s file?”
Garrett pulled a face, as if the very thought was unbearable. “No, I didn’t. And to be honest, I think it’s for the best you don’t get to see it either. My friend Javier was the paramedic at the scene, and he said it wasn’t pretty.”
Even without the details, my stomach turned. “Can I talk to Javier?”
Garrett didn’t look keen on that idea. “Grace—”
“Please,” I interrupted. “It’s important to me.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “OK, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I nodded, ready to live with the consequences of what I might find out.
Garrett called Javier. Our timing was perfect—he had just returned from a call and was back at the hospital.
We left the building and walked over to the ambulance bays, where Garrett led me through the drizzle to one of the vehicles.
The back doors were open, revealing two men in uniforms. One was cleaning the interior as the other checked the equipment.
I assumed the younger one, who was disinfecting the surfaces, was Javier.
“Hey,” Garrett greeted them. “Who did you bring in?”
“Elderly woman, about eighty. Suspected stroke,” replied the man checking the gear.
“She’s stable,” the man who I guessed was Javier added.
“Then I’ll go see if I can make myself useful,” Garrett said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his scrubs. “But before I do—Javier, this is Grace, Amy’s sister. She’d like to know more about Amy’s accident. I thought you might be able to help.”
“Sure,” Javier replied. As I’d expected, he was the younger of the two. He had blond hair and a friendly face. I could easily picture him in emergencies, speaking calmly to people, giving them hope.
Garrett touched my shoulder. “Is it OK if I head in?”
I nodded. “Yes. Thanks for your help.”
He said goodbye and jogged back towards the hospital building.
Javier hopped out of the ambulance and gestured for me to follow so we could talk in private. We walked a few steps before he spoke.
“You look just like Amy.”
“You knew my sister?”
“No, but Garrett has a photo of her in his locker. Her death really hit him hard, poor lad—but I guess you know all about that.” He twisted his lips into a sympathetic smile. We stopped under a tree that offered a little shelter from the rain.
“So, what do you want to know?”
“Was Amy in pain?” The words burst out of my mouth before I could stop them, even though it wasn’t a question I’d planned to ask. But in that moment, I realised just how desperately I needed the answer.
Javier’s gentle, reassuring smile didn’t falter.
“I can only speculate, but it looked to me like the car hit your sister head-on. She probably went over the bonnet and hit her head on the asphalt. She didn’t die right away, but she almost certainly lost consciousness immediately. So she shouldn’t have felt any pain.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Did she die from the head injury?”
“You should talk to pathology about that. What I can tell you is that she had internal bleeding, a punctured lung, and several broken bones. We tried to help her, but her heart stopped before we could even get her into the ambulance. We tried to resuscitate her.” It was clear from Javier’s voice that, despite his job and experience, recounting all this was not easy for him.
And it certainly wasn’t easy to hear. It took every last shred of willpower not to break down in tears. “I’m sorry Amy didn’t make it.”
“Me too.” I pulled a tissue from my pocket to wipe my nose and catch the first tears before they could fall.
I would now have to live with the image Javier’s words had just planted in my mind forever, but it was a relief to know Amy hadn’t suffered.
It was probably the best you could hope for in a situation like this—a quick, painless end.
Javier studied me. “Was that all you wanted to know?”
I swallowed hard. “No, I have one more question. Do you remember anything that might give a clue as to who caused the accident?”
He frowned. “I’m sure the forensics team can tell you more than I can. But I do recall seeing a bonnet ornament lying next to your sister. I think it was the silver one with wings. You know, from that overpriced car make.”
“Rolls-Royce,” I replied without thinking.
I wasn’t interested in cars, but I’d seen plenty of fancy Rolls-Royces at The Darlington.
Not to mention that the old men at the hotel loved talking about their showy rides.
As a result, I knew more than I wanted to about the bonnet ornament Javier was referring to.
Including the fact that its official name was Spirit of Ecstasy.
“Exactly!” Javier snapped his fingers.
My heart started racing. “Amy was run over by a Rolls-Royce?”
“I can’t tell you for sure. But I don’t see why else the thing would have been lying there. Maybe it broke off on impact. But like I said, forensics probably knows more than I do. My attention was on Amy.”
I thanked Javier, not just for the information, but for taking care of Amy. Despite the tears in my eyes and the lump in my throat, I left the hospital with a sense of hope. Javier had just given me what felt like the first real lead for my investigation, and a pretty valuable one at that.