‘Can we tell her about the nurse having a bottom drawn on her arm?’
Nick laughed, glad to see she was returning to her usual self. ‘Yes, although we should tell her about your arm first, don’t you think?’
‘OK,’ said Emily.
‘Hey,’ said Carla, sounding distracted as she answered the video call. ‘Is everything OK?’ She glanced over her shoulder to where Nick assumed her father was lying in bed.
‘I’ll be quick,’ he said. ‘I need to tell you Emily has had an accident, but she’s OK and we’re currently waiting for an X-ray to find out if she’s broken her arm.’
‘What?’ Nick had Carla’s full attention. ‘What happened?’ she demanded.
Nick hastily told her about the monkey bars, that Emily had been at school, the ambulance had arrived quickly and here they were.
‘Hello, Mummy.’ Emily waved at the phone with her good arm.
‘Oh, sweetie, are you OK?’
Emily’s lips quivered in response to the anxious tone, her eyes filling with tears. ‘No,’ she murmured.
‘Tell Mummy what the nurse said about the bottom,’ whispered Nick, and Emily’s trembling lips turned into a smile. For the next five minutes she babbled on, but Nick could tell Carla’s focus was elsewhere now she was assured Emily wasn’t upset and was being looked after.
‘Why don’t we let Mummy go and we’ll call her when we’re home from the hospital?’ suggested Nick. ‘That way you can surprise her with what colour cast you’ve picked.’
‘Sounds like a great idea,’ said Carla. ‘I’ll speak to you this evening, sweetie. And Nick, thank you for being there for Emily.’
‘Of course,’ said Nick. Despite the stress of the past few hours, he wouldn’t want anyone else but him beside Emily in this moment.
Chapter 48
Kitty glanced in the rear-view mirror and frowned. She kept her worries to herself, as Nick was in the back, cradling a sleeping Emily. He’d had more than enough to deal with for one day. Kitty took a sharp left down a single-track lane, then checked behind. The car was still there.
It couldn’t be a coincidence that the same vehicle had been behind them ever since they left the hospital.Of course it’s a coincidence, Kitty told herself. She glanced into the footwell and saw the scrunched-up note she’d found stuck on her windscreen, and wasn’t so sure.
Her shoulders sagged with relief as she pulled her car to a stop in Nick’s driveway. Kitty climbed out and opened the door. ‘Do you want me to lift her out?’ she asked, pointing to Emily.
‘It’s OK,’ said Nick, ‘I can manage. Hold on.’ He wriggled himself out of the car, Emily in his arms. ‘Can you grab my house keys? They’re in my left pocket.’
‘Sure,’ said Kitty, grateful for the darkness that hid her blush as she fumbled around in Nick’s tight work trousers. She pulled out a bunch of keys, and he grinned at her.
‘Thanks.’
The sound of an engine caused Kitty to turn. A black hatchback slid past. She was certain the driver had been watching them, but in the dark it was impossible to see who was behind the wheel.
‘Bit late for someone to be out for a drive,’ said Nick.
‘It is.’ Kitty walked to the edge of the drive. There was no sign of the car.
‘Do you think you could open the door?’
‘Sorry,’ said Kitty, running to Nick. She unlocked the door and stepped aside to let him pass.
‘Do you mind putting the kettle on before you go?’ he whispered. ‘It’s stupidly late, but there’s no way I’ll be able to go straight to sleep. There’s a box of decaf tea in a cupboard somewhere. I’ll dig it out once I’ve got Emily to bed.’
As Nick disappeared down the corridor, Kitty checked her watch. It was one in the morning, and she should get to bed. She lifted her shoulders, letting them relax. Like Nick, she was wired, both from hours spent at the hospital and from the anxiety of being followed.
She clicked on the kettle and grabbed two mugs. Perhaps Nick needed time alone, although Kitty had a feeling he could use some company. She rummaged and found decaf teabags, the image of the black hatchback prowling around outside filling her mind. If she were honest, she couldn’t face the thought of returning to her empty cottage.
‘Oh,’ said Nick as he appeared in the kitchen. ‘I thought you would have gone home.’
