‘Catch you first thing at the school, guv.’ Wyre waved.
‘Jacob.’
He flinched and looked up from his phone, his hands shaking so much, he placed it face down on the desk.
‘Has something happened?’
Tapping his foot on the floor, he looked down as if avoiding Gina’s eyes. Then he stood, grabbed his jacket and phone. ‘I have to go.’ Without another word he walked out, the door slamming as he left.
Briggs turned from the board. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through.’
‘Me neither. Something’s happened. Have we had any more news on Jennifer?’
Briggs shook his head. ‘I called the hospital about an hour ago and there was no change in her condition. It’s still critical.’
‘I hate that there’s nothing we can do to help?’
‘We can catch Grant and bring him in. He has to pay.’ Briggs walked towards the door. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Wait.’ Gina ran over. Briggs too was behaving strangely. If he was with someone else, she deserved to at least hear it from him. Yes, their relationship was casual but they also knew too much about each other for this not to matter. He owed her an explanation.
‘I have to go. I’m going to be late.’
‘Late for what?’
His gaze met hers and, for a second, she felt like she saw the Briggs she knew in there. The Briggs that would like to hold her and kiss her but within a second, that look had gone. ‘See you tomorrow.’ Just like Jacob had left, Briggs had too. She stood there alone in the middle of the incident room. It was just her and the board and her muddled thoughts.
She tried to call Jacob but he cut the call. Sitting in front of O’Connor’s computer, she logged in as herself. There was no point going home to nothing. Unless… No, she couldn’t. That was beyond wrong. What was she thinking?
TWENTY-ONE
Jacob hurried past the nurses’ station, over to Jennifer’s bed. A nurse was again pumping that beige liquid in through the nasal gastric feeding tube and Jennifer didn’t even flinch. Her head had been shaved where the emergency team had treated her.
She was so deeply sedated, she wouldn’t have any idea what was happening to her. He wondered what she was dreaming about or if she was even dreaming at all. He glanced up at her monitor, not that he understood what all the jaggedy lines meant. A nurse came over. ‘How’s she been?’
‘She’s had a stable couple of hours but we’re still taking every hour as it comes.’
‘That’s good, right?’
‘I can’t say any more at the moment. We just hope she keeps responding to treatment.’ The nurse finished up, noted down a few numbers from the monitor and smiled. ‘I’ll leave you alone with her. If you need anything, just come and find me.’
Jacob sat beside Jennifer and placed his hand over hers, being careful not to disturb the cannula. The hospital had called him in to discuss Jennifer’s pregnancy. ‘You should have told me about the baby. I know I said I didn’t want to be a dad but’ – he rubbed his eyes – ‘people change. I’ve changed. Please keep fighting. I need you, I love you. Hell, I can’t stop thinking about how we argued about what colour we should paint the lounge. I don’t care anymore, Jennifer. I just want you to be safe. Fight this, please.’
‘Can I get you anything from the tea cart?’ A woman in a white cap smiled. ‘A cuppa might help.’
A cuppa wouldn’t solve a thing but he wanted one. ‘Really sweet milky tea, please?’
‘Coming up.’ The woman grabbed a polystyrene cup and made the drink. Hot water splashed and spluttered from the canteen. ‘Here you go.’
‘Thank you. Do you think she’ll be okay?’
The woman gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘I just make the tea but the way I see it is she looks young and strong. I come in here every day and I like to have hope. She’s in the best place.’
He took the tea and sipped. ‘Thank you.’ Almost as soon as she’d arrived, she’d left. He glanced up. The ward was full of distraught relatives speaking soothingly to really sick loved ones under dimmed light.
He placed his hand gently over Jennifer’s slightly round stomach. She didn’t look even remotely pregnant. He wondered how long gone she’d been. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ A rush of thoughts went through his head. Maybe she didn’t want to tell him or she didn’t even want a baby. He removed his hand swiftly. During the short journey to the hospital, he’d dreamed of him and Jennifer with a little person. A child with a mixture of their features. Jennifer’s thick hair and heart-shaped face. His nose. If he had to pick one of his best features, that would be it. The child would have brains, especially as Jennifer was a science buff. Those dreams were all for nothing. Jennifer was lying there and there was nothing he or anyone could do to help any further. It was a waiting game. Two hours of stability is what he would cling to. Given how bad things had been, that was good news and he’d cling to that.
He thought of Annabel. Maybe Jennifer had confided in her when they were out. He thought of the conversation they might have had. Jennifer may have asked her how she thought he might react to the news. She’d have told Annabel that he didn’t want a child yet or maybe never. Her final conversations made their argument about what colour to paint the living room pale into insignificance. Then he thought again. Maybe the tiff was about much more. She may have been trying to find a way of striking up a conversation about the baby. His mind flashed back to that day. Their neighbour was holding her heavily pregnant stomach while loading the other three kids into her car and he’d made some jibe about how overpopulation was killing the environment. That’s what started it.
