Don't Wake Up

Greg hadn’t heard of the film. He would google both it and the man’s name when he got back to the station.

He turned to leave, but she stopped him. Her eyes were filled with regret. ‘I really am sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I care a lot about Alex Taylor, you must believe that.’

He softened his expression as best he could and acknowledged what she had said. ‘She’s going to need someone strong and supportive when we find her, Dr Cowan. She’s going to need people who care.’





Chapter forty-one

The paper bag was inflating and deflating like a bellows and Alex’s eyes were round with fear as she fought to slow down her breathing. Maggie was standing behind her, gently massaging her tense shoulders and offering words of encouragement. ‘All the way in and all the way out. Breathe nice and slowly. There’s no rush.’

It was days since she’d had a panic attack, and this one had come out of the blue while she was drying herself in Maggie’s bedroom. She’d shut the door and then seen her bridesmaid’s dress hanging on the back of it. It was identical in colour to the one she’d worn on that fateful night. Her mind had filled with the terrible memory of lying on that operating table and suddenly she was unable to breathe.

Feeling air fill and leave her lungs more easily, she removed the bag from her mouth. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said wearily.

Maggie squeezed her shoulders comfortingly. ‘We can call it off .?.?.? I’ve thought over what you said, and even though I still believe you couldn’t have been anaesthetised in the way you say it happened, I now believe you, Alex. I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through, and I’m sorry for ever doubting you.’

Alex shook with relief; her heart was pounding and quickly she turned her head and buried it against Maggie’s breast. ‘Thank you, Maggie. Thank you so much.’

‘I’m going to the police with you. I’m going to make them listen to what you have to say, and they better do something about it.’

‘They won’t believe me,’ Alex said. She raised her head, her eyes full of conviction. ‘They won’t, Maggie. The only way to prove this is to confront this man and get him to admit what he did. I want to do it. I want this over with. This man is not taking over any more of my life. It ends tonight.’

Maggie’s eyes were worried, but finally she nodded. ‘Well, I’ll be with you, don’t you forget that,’ she said. ‘We’re in this together.’

For the next hour Alex concentrated on getting ready and keeping calm. In a couple of hours she would meet Oliver Ryan again and she needed to be brave.

*

Greg didn’t like the ex-boyfriend. His righteous tone was getting right up his nose. The man seemed to be patting himself on the back for being right about Alex needing help. Greg had listened to Patrick Ford’s opinion for the last ten minutes and was still waiting for him to say something positive about Alex Taylor, but the best he got was how sorry he was not to have spotted her downward spiral sooner.

‘It’s so hard to watch someone you love behave this way. I tried to believe her. I truly did, but in the end you have to go with sanity.’

Greg would rather the man argued a case for Alex Taylor, stood by her side, insisting she be believed, until the bitter end, when truth prevailed. But he was just a normal man, Greg suspected, who perhaps could be a bit weak. Still, he’d like to wipe the satisfied look off his handsome face just the same.

Patrick Ford may well be an educated and professional man, and no doubt doing a sterling job helping sick animals, but he was a prat.

He made it sound like he was bestowing a great honour by inviting Greg into the treatment room while he examined a dog, explaining he needed to finish his surgery first, and if Greg could wait a short while he would then talk to him at length about Alex.

Greg leaned against a wall, gazing at anatomical posters of cats, rabbits and dogs, waiting while the man showered. His behaviour was odd. Greg had come to see him on urgent police business wanting to know if he had any information on Alex Taylor’s whereabouts, and the bloke was having a shower before they could carry on their talk.

Greg stared at the array of drugs on display in an open cabinet and wondered if he could get him on some law concerning keeping drug cupboards locked. The ketamine on view was surely a no-no; any member of the public could slip in here and help themselves to an ampoule.

The door opened and a sturdy young woman in a green tunic and trousers came in. She briefly studied him and then reached for a grey quilted jacket that was hung on a coat peg. She put it on, zipped it up and then banged on the door to the shower room.

‘You left the drug cupboard unlocked, Patrick. I’ll see you in the morning.’

Then, without saying a word to Greg, she left by the door she came through.

They were an odd pair, and Greg had wasted enough time in the place. He wanted to be back at the station in case any new information came in. He now banged on the shower room door. ‘Mr Ford, do you know where Alex is?’

The door opened and the man popped his dripping head out. ‘No, but when she comes here, be assured I will call you.’

Grey eyed him carefully. ‘What makes you so sure she’ll come here?’

‘We’re an item, Inspector. Alex knows she’ll be safe here. She’ll come to me for help.’

Greg really felt like punching the man on the nose. His arrogance was astounding. Then he relaxed as he realised he had an easier and more effective way to punish him.

‘Do I take it that Dr Taylor is still your girlfriend then, sir?’

Patrick Ford’s eyes shot open and his head jerked back as if punched, and Greg almost crowed. That made you think, didn’t it? he wanted to say.

‘Why would you think differently?’ he asked in a tight voice.

Greg shrugged. ‘No reason. Just checking. We’ll need your DNA for testing against bed linen and such things.’

The man’s face had turned red, and not from the heat of the water he’d just showered in.

‘Are you suggesting someone other than Dr Taylor has slept in her bed?’

Greg shrugged again, his manner feigning apology, as if trying to retract what he’d just let out. He turned to leave. ‘I’m sure it will be your DNA, sir. I shouldn’t worry about it.’

With a satisfied smile of his own, he left Patrick Ford less cocksure and arrogant than when he arrived.

*

‘You look beautiful,’ Maggie said as Alex came into the sitting room. ‘It’s a shame we’re not going to a Christmas party.’

Alex had lost weight since Pamela’s wedding and the bridesmaid’s dress was loose, but the colour suited her tawny hair and her still lightly tanned skin.

Maggie was dressed in a black tracksuit and black trainers so that she wouldn’t be seen in the dark.

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