Out of the Dark Read Free Page B

for a moment and there was absolute stillness. Then two of them turned to stare at Trish. They had blood down the front of their scrubs and on their gloved hands. She was conscious of a row of gaping faces before everyone went back to work.
    ‘What?’ she asked. A hand on her back pushed her towards the bed. Two nurses moved a little way apart to clear her view of the boy’s face. She couldn’t see anything to justify all this drama, so she glanced at the doctor, then at Constable Hill, then at each of the nurses. All those who caught her eye had the same expectant look on their faces.
    ‘What?’ Trish asked again.
    ‘Don’t you recognise him?’ said the policeman.
    Trish peered between the tapes and bandages and tubes. ‘No. Who is he?’
    ‘That’s what we want you to tell us,’ he said, pulling her back, out of the way of the medical team. His gripping hand hurt her.
    Patiently Trish explained yet again about her role in the accident’s aftermath.
    ‘You’re really telling us you’ve never seen him before in your life? That you don’t know who he is?’
    ‘How many more times? Yes, that is what I’m telling you.’
    ‘Even though he was coming to find you? And he looks just like you?’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You can hardly see his face with all those scrapes and bruises, let alone the dressings. And what makes you think he was coming to me?’
    ‘Well, he had your name and address sewn into the seam of his fleece, didn’t he? What other explanation could there be?’
    With the walls closing in on her and the floor bursting up to meet her face, Trish tried to protest. As she was losing consciousness, she heard the voice say:
    ‘I bet you anything he’s her son.’

Chapter 2
    ‘God, you look terrible, Trish!’
    Her old friend, Anna Grayling, sounded so shocked that Trish hastily said she was fine. ‘I didn’t sleep much,’ she added as she sat down at the wine-bar table.
    If this lunch had been with anyone other than Anna she’d have cancelled, but the two of them were both so busy that they rarely managed to find a day when they could meet, and it had been months since their last encounter. Trish had hoped the coral T-shirt she was wearing with her black jeans and natural linen jacket would have given her some colour – and a disguise. She should have known better. Although Anna was an independent television producer these days, she’d started her career as an investigative journalist and she still saw far too much.
    Trish put up a hand to make sure her spiky hair hadn’t mysteriously flattened itself and was reassured. ‘There was a car crash outside my flat last night, and I got embroiled with the police and the hospital. I fainted, too, and then they asked all sorts of questions. It took hours.’
    ‘Poor you. But even so …’ Anna sounded genuinely sympathetic, but her eyes were full of the old professional curiosity.
    Trish buried all thought of her miscarriage. ‘When I eventually got home, I was too revved up to sleep, so I took a pill. And that’s given me the mother of all hangovers.’
    Anna pushed a menu towards her. ‘Food’s the thing for
that. Without George to cook for you, you’re probably malnourished, which will be why you fainted. Choose a lot. I’m paying.’
    A smile fought through, as Trish thought of her perennially cash-strapped friend volunteering to buy lunch.
    ‘Don’t look so sceptical. I want to feed you up. In any case, I owe you.’
    That was true enough, but Trish wasn’t convinced. They’d been friends for years, but she’d learned to be wary of Anna’s machinations.
    ‘Then thank you. I … Oh, I’d like the fishcakes, I think, with some spinach instead of chips.’
    ‘Great. And what about a bottle of Sancerre?’
    ‘Only if you can manage five glasses. I’ve loads of work this afternoon, so I can’t have more than one.’
    ‘I thought barristers slacked off all summer.’
    ‘Not these days – at least not at my level. All