Trying Not To Love You

Part Five

Chapter Five

Sonny hated to see Carl Sullivan looking so dreadful. His shock he hid well, but then he had had a lifetime of hiding his emotions, he was an expert. Perching a hip on the end of his bed he grinned, “they treating you well?”

He hated to see the sallow face, the drooping jaw and the way that dribbles of saliva escaped his lips when he tried to speak. Carl was the only man who had given him a chance, and over the months they had become friends, more than that in some ways.

                “So your daughter’s home, kicking everyone in to touch.”

Carl was distressed by that, so he reassured him, “she seems a sensible girl,” and he went on to explain with great humour the incident with the horses. Carl smiled, but there was the underlying worry between them both. Carl tried to speak, but it was a struggle.

                “Oldbury?”  Sonny anticipated the word. Despite Carl never mentioning him being involved with his daughter, they both knew that Oldbury was behind a lot of things going on at the moment.

The slur of confirmation meant that both men met the other’s eyes, and realised the implications of the situation. “Nowhere to be seen. I promised you I’d keep everything safe, she’s now included, and I will. Trust me?”

Sonny knew that the older man did trust him, he had no qualms about that, Carl Sullivan wasn’t like everyone else. The day he’d wandered into town, five months earlier he’d been hell bent on revenge wanting to avenge the man who he felt had controlled his destiny. Carl had found him as he was about to do something stupid, something that would have sent him back inside, and talked him down. He’d done what no one else had ever done for him before, he gave him shelter, and over the months so much more than that. Helping the sick man to protect his home and his daughter was no contest. Not when he wanted to see Oldbury burn in hell himself.

Martha had been through what felt like living hell. Aunt Lucy managed to deposit the entire contents of her handbag under the seat of the Land Rover, which meant that once she’d got to town, Martha spent ten minutes fishing under the seat for Murray Mints and bingo pens, all the while the older woman shouted commands from the street. Aunt Lucy had then been suitably dispatched to her strictly timed schedule - she didn’t understand the words improvise, or spontaneity, she was all about rigour and times. And it was quite obviously Martha’s fault that she was now running late.

As she finally fell onto the ward from the lift trying to juggle bags and not drop anything, the sister on duty smiled, “do you need a hand?”

Martha shook her head, “unless you can create three more hours in the day then no! I just don’t have enough hands.”

The nurse laughed, “call if you need anything?”

With a nod she headed for her father’s bed, then froze. Sat at the foot of his bed, laughing, and making her father laugh was the lodger.

Both men looked up when she arrived and she dumped two full bags onto her father’s bed, eyes avoiding looking at either of them, “spare pyjamas, toiletries, and a sneaky half litre of whisky. Never say I don’t give you anything! Now I have to go, your sister-in-law has kept me busy far too long today. Are you ok?”

Her father smiled, nodded then reached for her hand, squeezing it softly.

                “I’ll come tomorrow Dad?”