Stripped Bare Read Free Page B

family.
    He stripped out of his dark blue jeans and casual tee shirt. He was already barefoot, loving the feel of the cool wooden floors in the house in the mid-summer heat.
    Matthew wandered into the en-suite bathroom and performed his nightly routine without variation. He brushed his teeth first and then washed his face. Finally he made his way to the bed, sliding in between the cool cotton sheets. He looked lingeringly over at the empty space beside him, his eyes pricking with tears.
    “Happy birthday, Sam, sweetheart,” he whispered. His throat clogged up and Matthew celebrated Sam’s birthday alone and in tears.
    He was dreaming of a dragonfly. He had no bloody idea why but his dream consisted of a very irritating and constant buzz as a large, iridescent green-winged insect flew around his head incessantly. He raised a hand to swat it away but just couldn’t seem to shut it up.
    “Bugger off, you poxy thing,” he muttered. “Leave me alone. I’m trying to sleep.”
    But the dragonfly didn’t listen, and in a sudden temper, he lashed out at the insect. His hand collided with something solid, sending a jolt of pain down his right arm. He opened his eyes in panic, only to realise the dragonfly was his mobile on vibrate and he’d just knocked over the bedside lamp. The lamp had knocked over his tumbler which now lay on its side, dripping water onto the polished wooden floors.
    He cursed and sat up, the sheet falling to his waist as he picked up his phone. The time showed 3:00 a.m. His heart sank when he saw who it was. It could only be bad news when his employer Walter Debussy called him at this time of night.
    “Walter? Is something wrong?”
    “Matty, I need you down at the hospital. Chelsea and West. It’s David. He’s been hurt and I think I might need some help.”
    Matthew, worried about David, ignored his annoyance at the man’s use of the pet name Sam had used as he swung his legs out of bed.
    “What’s wrong with David, Walter? Was he in an accident?” he demanded as he pulled on his boxers and a pair of jeans one handed. He couldn’t manage his shirt so he switched his mobile to speakerphone and put it down on his bedside table.
    Walter’s tinny vice reverberated in the quiet of his bedroom. “No, not an accident, Matty. Just get down here, will you, as soon as you can. I’ll be in A and E.”
    “Walter, how badly is he hurt—”
    The phone went dead. Matthew cursed again.
    This didn’t sound good. He might be the Debussy family lawyer, but he had no idea what he would be able to offer Walter down at the hospital. What the hell was going on down there?
    His stomach clenched when he thought of David being hurt. He and DD had known each other since Matthew’s father had become the family lawyer when they were boys. Matthew finished dressing, gave his short, thick black hair a cursory brush and picked up his car keys. He was fortunate enough to have a parking space in the street, another reason he and Sam had bought this place. It cost him a small fortune, but it was a small price to pay for having the privilege. He locked the door behind him and made his way down to his car, a deep blue Audi A3 cabriolet and his pride and joy. Matthew climbed in and settled himself in the driver’s seat. He heaved a great sigh. He wasn’t looking forward to whatever was waiting for him at the hospital.
    When he arrived at the hospital about fifteen minutes later, Matthew strode into the A and E to see a rotund but elegantly dressed Walter Debussy pacing the floor like a caged tiger. His face brightened when he saw Matthew.
    “Matty, good of you to come. Come over here, sit down.”
    Once again Matthew ignored the diminutive of his name. He felt a prickle of ire at the fact Walter knew that had been Sam’s special name for him and now, especially at this particular time of year, it seemed cruel to be calling him by the name his dead husband had affectionately used. Matthew had a feeling in his bones that