The Guilty Couple(65)

She continues to talk but the words are running together in my head. If I hadn’t given Smithy the contents of Dom’s safe none of this would have happened. She’d be sitting in her flat with her feet up and a cup of tea in her hands watching reruns of Frost on ITV3.

‘How … how do you think it happened?’

The doctor raises her shoulders in a small shrug. ‘We can’t say for sure but the brain injury could well have been caused by her falling down the stairs.’

‘And the internal bleeding?’

‘From the bruising on the stomach it seems likely that she was kicked, repeatedly.’

‘Oh my god.’ I cover my face with my hands. ‘She’s not … she won’t die, will she?’

‘We’ll do everything we can,’ the doctor says softly. ‘Is there anyone else we should call? Parents, siblings?’

I shake my head. Smithy’s dad has never been on the scene and her mum died of cancer when she was twelve. She doesn’t have any siblings and, other than some of the girls on our wing, I couldn’t name a single one of her friends.

‘Kelly’s going to be in surgery for several hours,’ the doctor continues. ‘We’ll call you when she comes out but she probably won’t be well enough to receive visitors until tomorrow. Is there anyone at home who can be with you while you wait?’

‘Yes, I’m … I’m staying with a friend.’

‘Okay, good.’ She shifts in her chair. ‘Have you got any questions you’d like to ask me?’

I’ve got a hundred questions – about the operations and Kelly’s prognosis and whether there’s any way of proving that she was pushed down the stairs – but I’m not sure I want to know the answers so I shake my head.

There’s a flash of relief on the doctor’s face. She’s busy and she needs to get back to the ward.

‘Thank you,’ I stand up at the same time she does and awkwardly reach for her hand, ‘for everything you do.’

She nods by way of reply then quickly steps out of the room. After a beat I follow her, my brain still cloudy from everything she told me and my heart aching with worry. Smithy has to get through this, she has to. My phone bleeps as I follow the signs to the exit. It’s a text message from Ayesha.

Liv, I am SO SORRY. There was an emergency at work and I couldn’t get away. I know how important today was to you and I hope everything went okay. Sorry again. I know I let you down. Xx

I’m still staring at the message when someone knocks my shoulder, sending my phone scuttling across the floor.

‘Sorry.’ A dark-haired woman ducks down to retrieve it. Our eyes meet as she stands back up but she doesn’t say a word. Instead she holds out her hand, my phone balancing on her palm.

I drop it into my bag, not taking my eyes from hers.

The make-up under Dani’s eyes is smudged and streaky and the end of her nose is swollen and red. She’s looking at me the same way she did on the street, straight through me, to somewhere far, far away. There’s no emotion in her eyes. She’s a doll on a toyshop shelf, staring but not seeing, solid on the outside but hollow inside.

‘It was all for nothing.’ The words come out on a whisper, then she blinks and seems to see me again. ‘You got it wrong, by the way. I didn’t hurt your friend.’

‘So, who did? Who took the stuff?’

‘Stuff?’

‘The evidence that Dominic paid you for your testimony. Someone took it from Smithy. If it wasn’t you, who was it?’

‘I don’t know.’ There’s no fight in her dulled eyes, no tension in her body, no fight in her voice. She’s telling the truth. She doesn’t know and she doesn’t care.

‘Think! It can’t have been Dominic because he doesn’t know where Smithy lives. And she wouldn’t have let him in.’ A porter, pushing an empty wheelchair down the corridor, glances our way. I’m talking too loudly but I’m too desperate to care.

‘Was it Ian? Did Nancy tell him about the plan? Was it him?’ Deep in my bag my phone starts to ring but I ignore it.

‘I don’t know who you’re talking about.’

She’s so robotic, so devoid of emotion, I want to shake her. ‘Dani, listen to me. Dominic is taking my daughter to Dubai tomorrow afternoon and he’s never going to bring her back. Do you understand? I’ll probably never see her again. If you admit that you lied in court you can still put this right. Please. It’s not too late.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Liv, and I really don’t care.’

A cloud of despair engulfs me as she steps around me and walks away. There’s nothing I can do now – legally or illegally – to stop Dom and Grace from getting on that plane. You could run away, a little voice calls from the back of my head. You could take Grace and just go. But where? Where could I go that I wouldn’t be found?

I dig around in my bag for my phone, hoping for a miracle. An unknown number has rung me and there’s a voicemail icon on the screen.

‘Hello?’ a voice says as I listen to the message – a voice I haven’t heard for years.

Then the call cuts off.

‘To listen to the message again press one,’ says the pre-recorded message.