CHAPTERTEN
George stared at the homemade steak and kidney pie on his plate. Normally one of his favourite meals from his mother’s extensive range of delicious home cooked food. He stuck his fork into the flaky pastry and watched the succulent gravy ooze out onto the plate next to the runner beans, spreading its browness into the mashed potato.
‘I made it specially for you,’ his mum said, placing a few more beans onto his plate. ‘I know how much you like it.’
‘I do, mum, yes. Thanks.’
George scooped some potato on to his fork and quickly swallowed it. He wasn’t hungry. After five days suffering hospital meals, he should have been ravenous for his mother’s cooking.
‘Eat up. It’s blackberry and apple crumble with ice cream for dessert.’ Sally Halcyon pulled her chair up to the table and speared some beans on her own plate.
‘Where’s dad?’
‘Busy. I’ve put his supper in the oven to keep warm.’
‘He’s not done anything, has he?’ George asked, raising the subject that had been bothering him ever since his father had learned about the attack.
‘No, not yet. Not as far as I know. Are you seeing Millie tonight?’
‘Hope so.’
George felt his mother’s worried eyes examine him and moved the food around on his plate, attempting to be like his normal self.
‘She visited you regularly in hospital, didn’t she?’
‘Yes.’
‘She’s a good girl.’
George put his fork down. ‘Sorry mum, this is too much for me.’ He glanced miserably at the food. ‘Would you mind keeping it warm in the oven with dad’s? I can try again later, when I’ve got an appetite.’
‘What’s bothering you, Georgie?’
‘Apart from the thought of dad killing one or all of those kids?’
‘He won’t do that.’ Sally pushed her own meal aside. ‘At worst, he’ll give them a taste of their own medicine. That’s all.’
‘But the police are looking into it now. I couldn’t help it. The hospital had to inform them. If Dad does those kids over, the law will know he did it.’
His mother slowly shook her head, a sad, knowing look clouding her eyes. ‘No, Georgie,’ she said, stretching across the table and touching his fingers. ‘Your dad’s not stupid, as he is so fond of telling me all the time. He’ll get outsiders to help on the job. Someone else needing something done in their manor, separate from us. They’ll do a swap. Each helping the other out, both unconnected with the initial event, so no way the law can match them to the crime.’
‘I wish he wouldn’t.’
‘I know. You’re a kind boy.’ She squeezed his hand.
‘It’s nothing to do with kindness, mum.’
‘Why then? You’re not worried about your dad, are you?’
George heard the incredulity in her voice and said, ‘Of course not. It’s nothing to do with him.’ He swiped his hand through his hair, an increasing level of desperation making him feel dizzy with panic. There had to be something he could do to stop the retribution.There just had to be.
‘Then what is it?’
‘I was the one that got beaten, so if I don’t want to have a go back at the kids, why can’t he leave it?’
‘You’re his son. You have your differences and I know he sometimes says things that are hurtful, but you are his only son. He won’t allow anyone to get away with harming you.’
‘But I’ll lose Millie if he does anything, even at arm’s length. If it gets into the local press, and it’s bound to, and Millie make the connection. If that happens, she’ll end it with me. I know she will.’
