EMBRACE YOU Lone(liness Book Two)(24)
"NO! Not for helping my friend!" Melanie stands and begins screaming as she tries to stride out from behind the defense table.
Guards jump and race to restrain Melanie, pulling her back to the defense table so she can hear the rest of that the magistrate has to say.
"As I was saying, you will serve a life sentence behind bars, with no possibility of parole. You attempted to capitalize on your childhood and diagnosis of borderline personality disorder, and that is shameful. You attempted to rip a baby from her parents' arms. I don't buy that you were trying to help your friend. You simply wanted to be involved in causing pain to others, for whatever reason. Society must be protected from you - for the rest of your life. Take her back to jail. She will be transported to a prison in Scotland. She will have no opportunity for contact or communication with Miss Wells."
My eyes open suddenly. Our tour is still more than one month away, just after Christmas. I think about the juries and the magistrate, pondering their decisions. I hope it won't take that long for the jury and magistrate to give verdicts and sentences! They have got to be found guilty!
"Can't sleep, luv?" Marcus voice drifts from the other side of our bed.
"No. Just had a freaky dream about the trials."
"You, too? What was yours about?"
"The jury's verdicts and the magistrate's sentences. Both Cara and Melanie were found guilty in my dream. Both lost it when they learnt what their sentences would be. Life for both, no parole. Did you dream the same thing?"
"Hah! I wish! Your dream is the one I wanted to have. No, in mine, they both got off scot-free, then came after us."
"Oh, Lord, Marcus, no! I'm telling you, if they get off, I want to leave England. Go live somewhere else in Europe or in America somewhere."
"I'm thinking the same, actually...but, you know, with technology and that damned 24-hour news cycle, it would make not one jot of a difference. All they would have to do is plug into the Internet and they could find us..." Marcus snaps his fingers. "Just like that."
Oh, Marcus, that is so depressing!" I turn and wedge into his side, seeking comfort and warmth. All of a sudden, I am freezing cold inside. The fear overwhelms me and I begin to cry.
Marcus wraps his arms around me and rocks me like a small child.
"There, there, luv, we'll figure something out. Let's just pray they're both found guilty. It's clear they both have mental issues. At the least, they'll be remanded to some kind of mental institution."
"Yeah! Mental issues out the wazoo! I wonder...does England have any legal provisions for life-long commitments to mental hospitals?"
"Don't know, but I'm sure we can find out. I'll Google that before practice tomorrow. If I can't find anything, I'll ask the prosecuting barrister. Come on. Tomorrow's a busy day for both of us and we need our sleep," Marcus says.
I roll over and we sleep spoon-style. Feeling Marcus' warmth surrounding me, I feel much safer, and a random thought flits through my sleepy brain. Maybe things will turn out as they should. It's clear they're nuttier than a field of pecan trees.
We wake the next morning and, when we get Lizzie up, it's immediately clear we aren't leaving the house. She's flushed, coughing, feverish and cranky.
"Oy, Marcus! Call the doctor, please. I think Lizzie is ill!"
"D'you want an appointment for this morning? How about practice?"
"Soonest appointment you can secure and call Tim. Please let him know Lizzie's sick and, save for the doctor, she shouldn't be out and about."
At the doctor's office, we are seen after close to an hour's wait. We're fortunate - others come in later and will end up waiting far longer. Still, the wait proves too long for Lizzie. She vomits, getting the sick all over herself and us. We sigh, pulling her clothing off and wrapping a blanket around her. We have no changes of clothing for us. Right after this happens, the nurse calls us back to an examination room, where she takes Lizzie's vital signs.
"Oh, you poor little luv! Not feeling well are you? Mum, dad, take these cloths and wipe the worst of the sick off you. Doctor will be in presently."
We wait another twenty minutes and Lizzie spews again. This time we're prepared and we move out of the way as I keep my hands on her feverish body and head. Shortly after, doctor comes in and examines our little girl.
"Fever, cough, congestion and vomiting. Has Lizzie had a flu shot this year?"
"Yes, we all had them," I say.
"Well, she managed to get sick, regardless. I'm prescribing an antiviral that's safe for small children. Start giving this to her immediately and she should turn the corner within forty-eight hours or thereabouts. Johanna, you need to protect yourself the most, as a singer. You should both start taking a prophylactic dosage of this medication as well. It'll prevent your voice from being too badly impacted if you get sick. Marcus, take your girls home and go pick up three prescriptions. Mum, get your little girl into bed and start giving her clear fluids. Acetaminophen only for her fever and aches, every four hours. No solids as yet. Once she hasn't vomited for at least twenty-four hours, start her on non-dairy foods, such as chicken broths with soft vegetables. Crackers. Flat soda. Weak tea. Nothing heavy, greasy or spicy. And watch out for your own health, will you?"
"Thank you, doctor. We'll do all this."