I’d rung her whilst Vicky had been in with the detective for the last bit of paperwork. To be honest, I was just so worried about Vicky, and I knew Mum would know what to do.
“I knew you wouldn’t have eaten, and Mum, she just… she makes everything better. I know she’ll help me make you feel better.”
“Hello, lovie,” Mum said as she pulled the passenger door open.
Vicky looked at her warily then jumped when I unclipped her seatbelt.
“You coming out of there, sweetheart?” Mum asked as I opened my door and jumped down, coming round to their side to see Vicky slowly lower herself out of the Land Rover.
“Mikey told me what happened,” Mum said softly. “I’m so sorry you were hurt.”
Vicky looked between me and Mum before wrapping her arms around herself. “It wasn’t your fault, Mrs. Mayweather,” she whispered.
“I know that, sweetheart,” Mum said, her voice even softer now. “Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry. I’m even sorrier I wasn’t there with my rolling pin to crack some heads open.”
Vicky’s eyebrows went up, and her lips twitched. She might think Mum was joking, but I knew for a fact that Hetty Mayweather could be hell on wheels when she was angry.
“Now, I know what makes my kids feel better when scary stuff happens.”
Kids? I was a thirty-four-year-old man. “Hugs,” Mum explained. “Now it’s okay to say no. But, can I hug you?”
Vicky hesitated then nodded slowly.
Mum pulled her in and enveloped her in a classic Hetty Mayweather hug—warm and all-encompassing.
Vicky’s arms were limp by her sides for a few seconds, but then she hugged Mum back, letting out a very small sob into Mum’s jumper.
“Okay, lovie,” Mum said softly as she swayed Vicky gently from side to side. “You’ve been a brave, brave girl for a long time, but you’re safe now. Nobody’s going to hurt you here. My son won’t let anything happen to you.”
Mum’s voice was shaking slightly, and when she looked up at me over Vicky’s shoulder, I could see her eyes were glassy with tears as well.
It was a good few minutes until Vicky pulled away. When she did, Mum swept the mascara from under her eyes and wiped away the rest of her tears.
“There we are,” Mum said gently. “Pretty as a picture. Now, in we go, and we’ll have some grilled cheese toasties and tomato soup.”
As Mum bustled us into the cabin, I talked low in her ear, “You remember that Vicky likes?—”
“I know what she likes, love,” Mum said. “Always easy to please as a child weren’t you, Vicky? Never seen anyone so happy with a cheese sandwich. Now, off you go and have a shower whilst I get this ready. I’ve put Mike’s softest shirt out for you on the bed and those pyjamas I got you last year for Christmas, Mike. The ones that were too small. No labels or anything, okay?”
“Er… okay,” Vicky said slowly, eyeing my Mum as if she was an alien from another planet.
An hour later, I was completely reassured that ringing my mother had been the best plan I could have had.
Vicky was tucked into my side on the sofa with a blanket over her, having eaten a cheese sandwich and even a small amount of soup, her hair back in a plait which she’d let Mum do for her.
Before Mum left, she’d gathered Vicky in for another hug.
“Men like that, they try to take a piece of you,” Mum said softly. “You stay whole though. Don’t let him stealanythingfrom you.” Her voice became fierce then. “It’s not his to take. Understand me?”
“Yes,” Vicky whispered.
“Good girl,” Mum said as she pulled back and hitched her handbag up on her shoulder. Then she turned to me. “You’ll sort out those people, won’t you, Michael?”
It was a command Mum expected to be followed.
“Oh yes,” I said firmly. “I’m going to be sorting them right out.”
Vicky and I went back inside and watched the rest ofBritain’s Secret Hedgerows. About five minutes in, she’d fallen asleep on my chest. I carried her upstairs to my bed, and she curled into a tiny protective little ball, so small, you could barely notice she was even under the duvet.
