The Babysitter(21)

Dammit! ‘Mel, the key!’ he shouted, and headed out to the garden, where the dog’s cries were growing more urgent by the second. What the hell had happened? All became clear as he neared the workshop and saw that the window – which he’d added to his mental to-do list but hadn’t yet fixed – was missing. The cat must have gone in, chased by Hercules, who was now stuck inside the workshop.

‘Stay, Hercules,’ he said, calmly but firmly, as he approached the empty frame. ‘It’s okay, girl.’ Mark peered in, and swallowed, hard. ‘Okay, girl, stay. I’m coming.’

‘Mark?’ Evie in her arms, Mel was behind him as he hitched himself up to climb through after the dog. ‘Where’s the key?’ she asked, as he was poised to drop the other side.

‘Missing,’ Mark replied tersely, noting Hercules had sunk to her haunches and was emitting no noise now but a low, pathetic whine.

‘What’s happened? Is she all right?’ Mel called urgently, as he dropped carefully down to crouch beside the dog, talking softly to her and trying to coax her to turn so he could reach to apply pressure to the wound.

No, Mark thought. She’s very much not all right. How in God’s name was he going to get her out without injuring her further? ‘She’s bleeding,’ he said, as calmly as he could. He didn’t want to panic the dog, or Mel. ‘Badly. Front leg. We need the key, Mel. Can you remember where you left it?’

‘It’s on the hook. I’m sure I hung it… Oh God.’ Evie clutched close to her, Mel peered into the garage after him, clearly shocked when she saw the fountain of rich red blood Mark was trying to stem with his fingers.

‘Ring the vet,’ Mark instructed. ‘See if they can send someone urgently. I’ll have to try and lift her back through—’

‘Melissa!’ It was Jade, shouting from the other end of the garden. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

‘Hercules!’ Mel shouted. ‘She’s injured. I’ve lost the key. We can’t—’

‘It’s on the hall table,’ Jade cut in. ‘I’m sure that’s where you put it. Hold on. I’ll go and look.’

Thank Christ for that. Mark thought, relief surging through him. The girl’s timing was impeccable. From the amount of blood she’d lost, there was no doubt in Mark’s mind the dog was going into shock. Lifting her back through the window would probably kill her. He should try to elevate the leg, he was aware, which would slow the bleeding. But how was he supposed to do that without an extra pair of hands?

Had Mel called the vet yet? Or the fire brigade, who could at least break the door down? A neighbour? Anybody would do. Where was the damn key? Frustrated, and trying hard to suppress his own panic, Mark leaned down to wipe the blood from his face against his shoulder. With combustible and toxic substances stored in here, the place was an accident zone. They’d discussed it. Agreed to keep the key on the hook, should it be required at short notice, and well out of Poppy’s reach.

Yes, and he’d agreed to get the damn window fixed ASAP. If anyone was at fault here, he was. Mel had a million things on her mind with Poppy and Evie’s needs to attend to alongside her work. Mark doubted he could perform the juggling act she did on a daily basis half as successfully.

‘Hold on, girl,’ he said softly. ‘You’re not called Hercules for nothing, you know.’ Praying silently, he glanced upwards, and then snapped his gaze to the door as it opened.

‘Mel’s rung the vet,’ Jade said, coming in and dropping down beside him. ‘He said to keep pressure on the wound and take her straight there. Mel’s just popping Evie back in her cot. What can I do?’

Mark nodded. ‘I’ll carry her. I’ll need you to stay with me and take over the pressure bit. You’ll need two hands, here and here.’ He indicated where his own hands were placed. ‘Are you okay with that?’

Jade immediately jumped to her feet. ‘I’m right by your side,’ she said determinedly.



* * *



Mark’s mind was still on Hercules as he finally arrived at the station. And Mel, who was obviously blaming herself for what had happened. He shouldn’t have been so short. He’d meant to apologise, but then he’d received another text from Lisa, informing him that DCI Edwards wasn’t impressed by his absence, and Mel had slipped back to the workshop while he’d been replying.

At least it looked as if Hercules was going to be okay. Thank God for Jade, who’d certainly gone above and beyond her babysitting duties, even offering to pick the dog up from the vet’s later while Mel tried to rescue what was left of her workshop and organise a glazier. Jade had only been with them ten minutes and already Mark was beginning to wonder how Mel had managed to keep all the balls in the air without her. She had though, allowing him to get on and do what he had to do. And by way of appreciation, he’d acted like a dickhead as soon as there was a blip on the domestic front, as if it was a major inconvenience to his work agenda. He’d left her in the workshop, plucking pieces of smashed sculpture from a pool of coagulating blood. She’d said it didn’t matter when he’d asked her about it, but she hadn’t looked him in the eye. She’d dragged her hair from her face, and kept her gaze fixed firmly on her task. Not sure what to do, what he could do, and running desperately late by then, he’d brushed her cheek perfunctorily with a kiss and said he had to go. No doubt Mel would quite like the freedom to sail out and leave someone else to pick up the pieces sometimes too. He really was going to have to apologise.