Her Perfect Family(12)

I can hear one of the nurses arguing with the intruder and then an older male voice, presumably our police guard. ‘You need to put that down right now. You can’t go through. We’ve told you that. Let’s keep this calm. Let’s move this downstairs and talk this through calmly . . .’

He’s immediately interrupted by a loud thud and a woman screaming. I can feel my heart racing wildly and let out this low groan.

Next, we hear more shouting, unintelligible, and the sound of apparent scuffling followed by loud clanging as if something metal’s been knocked over. A chair? No. The noise suggests something much bigger. Maybe some kind of trolley as there is a cacophony of different metal notes and the sound of breaking glass. I imagine various instruments strewn across the floor. One note continues – a horrible low whirring as if a metal bowl is circling on the floor. Round and round. Round and round.

I’ve moved to the side of Gemma’s bed. Ed has stretched his right hand across to the bedside table, his left hand still tight around the door handle. He grabs my iPad and holds it up high as the only available weapon. I’m now standing between the window and Gemma’s bed, stretching out my arms to widen my shield and trying not to think of the cathedral and how useless an iPad will be if the man is armed.

Don’t let it be a gun. Don’t let it be a gun again.

There’s another little impasse – this strange and chilling moment of quiet – then a male voice calling out in pain. I’m holding my breath when a nurse suddenly appears on the other side of our cubicle window. She has her hand up to signal for us to keep still. She glances across the room then back to us to mouth, ‘It’s OK.’

Next, we hear the voice of our police guard giving instructions, apparently to a hospital security guard. He says there’s police backup on the way and the young man is to be held until backup arrives. We wait. One minute. Two minutes.

At last there’s a knock on our door. ‘It’s your police guard here. You can open up now. It’s all clear.’

Ed slowly opens the door to find the guard still on his radio. ‘Thank you. Yes. He’s cuffed. The situation’s contained.’ He’s leaning his chin down as he speaks into the radio while also checking his watch. ‘I have assistance from hospital security but I need that backup fast. And we need to update DI Sanders. Will you do that for me?’ A pause. ‘Good. And keep me posted.’

He then takes his finger off the radio and turns to us. ‘I’m so sorry. I just want to let you know that you’re absolutely safe. The young man making the scene claims he’s your daughter’s boyfriend. Alexander.’ He lowers his voice. ‘He’s making various accusations. Demanding to see Gemma. We’ve got him handcuffed in a side office. He’ll be taken to the police station for questioning. But I just wanted you to know what’s happening. I’ll be staying here with you, once backup arrives to take him to the station.’

I can’t believe it. Alex? All that rage.

‘Was he armed?’ My voice is so high that I hardly recognise it. Alex. The boy who came on holiday with us. The boy who always seemed so kind around Gemma. Devoted.

‘No, no. Not armed. Well – not exactly. He grabbed a water jug. Threatened one of the nurses who wouldn’t let him through. No formal weapon. Just very overwrought. DI Sanders will be here soon, I’m sure. She’ll talk to you once we know what he’s saying.’

‘Was anyone hurt?’ Ed’s voice is steadier than mine.

‘No. He knocked over a trolley at the nurses’ station. There’s broken glass, which needs clearing up, but no one hurt. Are you both OK? The nurses are talking to all the patients in the other cubicles. I’m very sorry you’ve been put through this.’

Ed reaches out to touch my arm and lets out a long sigh. ‘Thank you, Officer. We’re fine. Just a bit shaken. So what’s he’s saying? Why did he come here? He’s her ex, you know. Not her boyfriend now. He sent us a card, asking to see Gemma, but we didn’t reply. I mean – she broke it off with him. We were respecting her decision.’ Ed turns to me and then back to the guard. ‘So do you think it was him? At the cathedral, I mean?’

‘Best we don’t jump to any conclusions. I suggest you wait to speak to DI Sanders after he’s been interviewed properly. Do you still have the card? She’ll want to see that.’

I nod. There have been so many cards from people but I’ve kept them all. I move to my holdall in the corner to look for it, struggling to take this in. The venom in Alex’s voice. The bitch has been lying to me . . . Unrecognisable. And what did he mean – cheating on me?

I can feel my lips trembling and put my hand up to my mouth, suddenly remembering Gemma. Horrified that she may have heard all this.





CHAPTER 7


THE DAUGHTER – BEFORE

Essay notes – romanticism module. Third year.

OK, so these are obviously not my notes on the romanticism module . . .

The truth? It’s Thursday night, late. I’m sitting at my laptop, and it tells you everything that my hands are actually shaking and I’m hiding this in an ‘essay prep’ folder in my coursework files because I need to be as sure as I can that Alex won’t somehow read this. Find this.

Paranoid? Going off the rails? Maybe a little bit of both. I don’t know.