THIRTEEN
NOT PART OF THE PLAN
Alex
I woke at six, like I always did. Old habits and all that. But instead of getting up like I always did, I lay still for a few minutes.
Paddy’s snoring from Grainger’s room was a low, rhythmic rumble that had been going on for most of the night, but I’d managed not to let it bother me.
More old habits left over. Snoring was the least of my worries.
I checked my phone. Even though I’d changed my number, I was still on alert for any unwanted messages.
I hadn’t had one since the last time I was here.
I could only think of one person who it might be.
Hopefully, I was out of reach now and they would realise they couldn’t get to me.
Outside, the wind had died down, and hopefully that meant no more snow, especially if we were driving over to the hospital today to fetch Grainger.
From the kitchen, I could hear movement and guessed it was probably Oliver up and about already.
I should have got up, but I needed a bit more time. Last night. I couldn’t avoid thinking about it anymore.
Had I embarrassed myself?
Undoubtedly.
I had walked out of my room in the early hours of the morning, found a man I barely knew, who was also my boss, standing at the window and asked him, without words, without explanation, to hold me.
And he had. And I’d let him. And then I’d pulled away like a startled cat and had gone back to bed without a single coherent sentence between us.
Brilliant, Alex. Absolutely brilliant.
I sat up and looked at the ceiling for a moment. Then I did what I always did when I’d let something get too close. I got dressed, pulled my hair back and decided to behave as though nothing had happened.
With any luck, Oliver would too.
He was standing at the hob with his back to me, a pan of water heating. He was wearing a sweatshirt and grey joggers, looking entirely comfortable and relaxed. He turned when he heard me, and there was a moment where he simply looked at me. Not judging. Just looking.
Then he turned back to the hob. ‘Tea or coffee?’
‘Tea,’ I said. ‘Please.’
I sat down at the table. Neither of us spoke. It was still dark outside. Morning light didn’t show up until around eight or nine. Such a slacker.
Oliver set a cup of hot tea down in front of me and sat down across the table with his own coffee. Not beside me. Across. A considered distance.
‘Snow’s stopped,’ he said, tilting his ear towards the window. ‘Roads should be passable. Paddy can fetch Grainger.’
‘I’ll go with him,’ I said. ‘They’re more likely to discharge Grainger into medical supervision than just Paddy’s custody.’
‘Knowing Grainger, I expect the hospital will be glad to get rid of him.’
I gave a small laugh. ‘I expect you’re right.’
‘But go, all the same.’
A silence settled between us, not a comfortable one but one that almost sucked the air from the room.
‘Alex.’
I looked up. ‘Yes?’
He wasn’t smiling. He was watching me in that way that saw far too much. ‘You okay?’ he asked.
Just that. Two words. Nothing elaborate.
I held his gaze for a moment. ‘Yes,’ I said.
He nodded slowly but didn’t say anything. He took a sip of his coffee.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘For last night.’
‘You don’t have to thank me.’
‘I know. I’m doing it, anyway.’
Then Paddy’s door opened with a sound like an earthquake, followed by the heavy treads of boots across the floorboards. If Oliver had been planning on saying anything else, he’d have to wait.
Noah was up soon after Paddy, and Oliver made us all breakfast. I got the feeling he needed something to do.
‘Best bacon and eggs this side of Risk,’ said Oliver as he set the plates down on the table.
‘Looks good,’ I said, matching the light-hearted tone.
‘Dad is a good cook,’ said Noah.
‘Don’t forget, I’ve experienced your dad’s cooking,’ said Paddy.
‘You’re still here to tell the tale,’ said Oliver, reaching for the salt.
‘We won’t mention the poached egg incident, then,’ said Paddy.
‘You’re right, we absolutely won’t mention it.’
I looked between the two men. ‘Well, one of you is going to have to tell me. What happened with the poached eggs?’
‘I was bad for six days,’ said Paddy. ‘Lost half a stone.’
‘It had nothing to do with the cooking. It was how they were stored.’ Oliver looked pointedly at his friend.
‘I’ll have you know those eggs were stored perfectly well.’
They ribbed each other some more, and I felt the charge in the room dissipate. I breathed a gentle sigh of relief.
We finished our food, and Oliver insisted on clearing away.
‘You two should get off,’ he said. ‘I’ll phone through to the hospital to let them know you’re on the way.’
‘Ready when you are, Doc,’ said Paddy.
I got to my feet and took my jacket from the peg, fastening it up.
Noah wandered over, still in his pyjamas, his hair ruffled. ‘You are coming back, aren’t you?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I am coming back.’
Oliver came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Noah looked up at me and then buried his face into Oliver’s side. Oliver looked at me, and I looked back at him.
‘Let’s go,’ said Paddy, breaking the moment.
I’m not sure what sort of moment it was, but I was glad of the distraction.
I followed Paddy out to the 4x4 and climbed into the passenger seat. He started the engine, and we pulled away down the drive while Oliver and Noah stood on the step waving us off.
The hospital discharged Grainger with what I interpreted as a sense of relief and fondness. It didn’t surprise me. The grumpy veteran had a way of being cantankerous and charming all at the same time.
The nurse insisted he exit the hospital in a wheelchair, which meant much grumbling from Grainger about how ridiculous it was and claiming he didn’t need to be pushed, he could manage it himself.
‘You’ve got a fractured ankle and three bruised ribs,’ I said. ‘You’re also on strong painkillers. You’re in that chair until we get to the car.’
‘Forgot how bossy you were,’ he muttered.
‘Well, get used to it because I’m going to be around for a while.’
Getting Grainger in the back of the Jeep was a two-person operation that required the combined effort of Paddy’s considerable upper body strength and Grainger’s absolute refusal to ask for help, which at one point nearly ended in all three of us on the car park floor.
Eventually, he was in, his crutches stowed in the boot and a blanket over his legs.
Within fifteen minutes of driving away, the painkillers had kicked in, and he was asleep.
‘Peace at last,’ said Paddy.
‘It’s the painkillers. Extra strong ones,’ I said, looking at the prescription the nurse had given me. ‘He’ll be groggy when he wakes up, and he will hate that.’
‘He’ll blame us.’
‘Probably.’
We drove in comfortable silence for a while. Paddy was easy company. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with unnecessary chatter. A quality I appreciated and had noticed in Oliver, too.
I looked out of the window and tried not to think about my boss too much.
When we arrived back at Risk Estate an hour later, we pulled up outside Grainger’s lodge. Oliver and Noah came out as we stopped. Noah hopped down the steps and came up to the window.
‘Is he awake?’
‘He is now,’ I said.
Oliver went around to the rear door and opened it. Grainger was blinking himself back into consciousness but clearly irritated that he had fallen asleep so easily.
‘Welcome back,’ said Oliver.
Getting Grainger out of the vehicle was marginally more dignified than getting him in, mostly because Oliver and Paddy, between them, simply moved him efficiently and economically.
Noah held the door open for them with great seriousness and then fetched a cushion for Grainger’s foot without being asked, which made Grainger look at him for a moment with an unguarded expression of gratitude before he returned to his grumpy old man persona.
‘Right,’ I said once Grainger was settled in bed, ankle elevated, a glass of water on his bedside table and the TV remote in his hand. ‘Shout if you need anything.’
‘I will. Don’t be fussing now.’
‘Just doing my job.’
I went to leave, but as I got to the door, he called out to me.
‘Doc.’
I turned to look at him. ‘Yes?’
‘Thank you.’
Then he aimed the remote control at the TV and concentrated on flicking through the channels.
‘You’re welcome,’ I said as I left.
Oliver was in the kitchen when I went through, and he was just dispatching Noah to his room with colouring books with the reassurance that Grainger was fine and didn’t need anything for at least two hours.
‘Let him rest,’ said Oliver. And then to me, ‘Paddy’s just checking on the supplies.’
There was a folder on the kitchen table. A4, dark blue. Neatly labelled.
Oliver pushed it across to me as I sat down. ‘I put this together while you were out.’
I opened it.
It was thorough. More than thorough. Tabbed sections labelled up, medical supplies inventory, resupply schedule, emergency contacts, nearest hospital, local GP, weather monitoring websites and apps, the equipment for the mountain rescue coordinator, Aaron and Dom’s direct phone numbers,
the estate’s emergency generator instructions, the supply delivery schedule for the next six weeks, and so it went on.
I turned the pages slowly.
‘The medical supplies are in the locked cabinet in the utility room,’ said Oliver.
‘You’ll have the key. Paddy has the duplicate.
There’s a full inventory on page three. I’ve ordered a resupply, which should arrive Thursday, assuming the road’s clear, and I’ve flagged the items that need to be refrigerated.
Although you probably know that, anyway.’
He leaned forward and turned to the emergency contact page.
‘This is the most important one. Air ambulance number is at the top. They know the estate. In bad weather, they are your best bet.’
‘Oliver,’ I looked up from the folder. He stopped. ‘This is… comprehensive. When did you do all this?’
‘This morning. While you were gone.’
He said it in such a way that preparing a fully comprehensive dossier of the estate’s comings and goings was entirely normal and something people did all the time.