‘Police?’
‘There was a scuffle too.’ That doesn’t quite describe the ordeal that Tom’s been through, but it will do for now. ‘They’re coming to take details. Don’t worry. He’s fine. Shaken, that’s all.’
‘Why didn’t he ring me?’
‘He did. If you check your phone you’ve probably got a missed call from him.’
‘And Gina?’
‘Away for the weekend.’
‘Of course,’ he mutters.
‘Tom was sensible enough to get my number from Daisy and I came straight here.’
‘Thanks, Ruby,’ Joe says. ‘I owe you.’
‘Just get here as soon as you can.’ I tell Joe where we are.
‘He’s where? What the hell is he doing up there at this time of night?’ I can feel his fury coming down the phone.
‘We can also talk about that when you get here.’
We both hang up. Tom looks at me gratefully.
‘That wasn’t too bad. He’ll understand.’
‘I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I?’ he say, woefully.
I consider offering some platitudes but, instead I say, ‘Yeah. It’s not the end of the world though. You’re relatively unharmed. Apart from the great shiner you’ll have tomorrow.’
Tom risks touching his swollen eye and winces. ‘Thanks for coming to get me, Ruby.’
‘Not a problem. You did the right thing,’ I tell him. ‘And with your quick thinking, the police have a chance of catching who did it.’
‘I’d like my bike back,’ he says woefully. ‘And a new phone.’
There’ll come a time when Tom realises that, after an attack like that, escaping with only a stolen bike and a broken phone is actually a small price to pay. It makes me feel nauseous to think it, but what happened could have turned out so much worse.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Less than ten minutes later, a squad car pulls up. They go through the details with Tom and then we both get in the car and drive round the nearby streets in case we see the thugs on his bike, but we don’t. After that, we’re asked to accompany them to the station so they can take DNA swabs and check if there’s anything useful that can be gleaned from the photos on Tom’s phone.
Joe hasn’t yet arrived, so I call and let him know that he should meet us there. We head down to the station in my car. In the passenger seat, Tom lets his head go back and he closes his eyes. He looks exhausted.
At the station, we sit together in the waiting room – Tom getting paler by the minute.
‘Do you feel sick?’
‘A bit,’ he admits.
‘What about that eye? Is it hurting?’
‘Throbbing,’ he says. I move his fringe aside to have a proper look. His eyebrow is cut and is thick with dried blood. ‘We’ll put some ice on it as soon as you’re home and get you some painkillers.’
‘Thanks, Ruby.’
Maybe we need to take him to A&E to get him checked over, but that will be Joe’s call.
Then Joe arrives and he has a face like thunder until he sees the state that Tom is in, then he crumbles. Tom stands up on shaky legs and Joe takes his son into his arms and crushes him into a bear hug.
‘I’m sorry, Dad,’ Tom says, crying again.
‘No harm done. But you and I need to have a talk when this is sorted.’
Tom nods.
‘They want to take DNA swabs,’ I tell Joe. ‘They’ll be with us shortly. Is Daisy still at home alone?’
Joe shakes his head. ‘I phoned her and told her to go next door and wait for us. We’ll pick her up when we get back. Neither of them are going to make school tomorrow.’
An officer arrives and takes Joe and Tom into the depths of the station. So I wait round, drinking tepid brown water that’s supposed to be tea from a vending machine, until the police have finished with Tom.
Midnight has long gone when they both reappear and relief lifts my heart. I feel grimy from just sitting here.
‘How did it go?’
‘Tom gave really good descriptions of the lads,’ Joe tells me. ‘The pictures aren’t great but it seems they might be known to the police already. That might help to catch them.’
‘Are you feeling OK?’ I ask Tom.
‘Knackered.’ He does look fit to drop. ‘Every time I move my mouth, my lip splits open too.’ There’s fresh blood there when he touches it.
‘Let’s go home,’ Joe says and takes my hand. ‘This has been too much excitement for one night.’
‘Should we go to A&E?’
‘I don’t think so. I’m not sure either of us could stand it now. I’ve had a good look at him. I think he’ll live to fight another day.’ He hugs his son to him and Tom winces, but bears it stoically.
‘I’ll be off,’ I tell him. ‘Glad there’s not too much damage done.’
‘Come back with us,’ Joe says. ‘We at least owe you tea and toast.’
‘I wouldn’t say no to that,’ I admit.
I watch Tom and Joe as they walk across the car park, Joe’s sturdy arm slung round his son’s slight shoulders. I hope that Tom has learned his lesson from this awful experience. Then I jump into my own car and follow them back to the house.
Chapter Seventy-Three
I take Tom inside while Joe goes to collect Daisy from their neighbour’s house.
‘Do you want something to drink?’
He nods.
‘Hot chocolate would be my go-to drink at moments like these,’ I tell him.
He tries not to smile and split his lip open again, but there’s a glimmer of one. ‘Cool.’ Tom eases himself into a chair at the kitchen table, clearly hurting all over. ‘There’s some in the top cupboard.’ He points in the general direction and, with a bit of rummaging, I find it.
‘A nice hot shower will make you feel better too. Get all that blood off you.’
Then he puts his head on his arms and bursts into tears. I abandon the chocolate and go to comfort him.
‘Hush, hush. It’s all done now.’ I sit down next to him and stroke his hair. ‘It’ll all seem better in the morning.’
‘Nothing’s been right since Mum left,’ he sobs. ‘I keep wishing she’d come back.’
That brings a lump to my throat.
‘How could she leave us for him? Mums don’t do that. There’s nothing wrong with Dad either. Some of my friend’s dads are real knobs, but my dad’s not. He’s OK. What does she want?’
‘Sometimes people just fall out of love,’ I offer as I hold him tightly. Yet I realise that it sounds rubbish. ‘Of course, you’re going to miss her, but she’s still your mum.’
They all act so hard and grown-up, yet inside they’re still frightened children who want their mother and my heart goes out to him. It’s been an awful trauma for him and no one can make him better like a mum can.
I hear the front door open and Tom quickly wipes his eyes on his filthy, bloodied T-shirt. A few seconds later, Joe comes in the kitchen with Daisy. She bursts into tears when she sees the extent of Tom’s injuries. I move over so that she can wrap her arms round him.
‘I told you not to go out, idiot,’ she wails.
He doesn’t argue back.
‘I’ll put some toast on,’ Joe says. ‘I don’t know about you lot, but I’m starving.’