Read Online The Liverpool Trilogy by Ruth Hamilton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ruth Hamilton
Ads: Link
have been pleased, might have lived longer and been a great deal happier.
‘Lucy?’
‘Yes?’
‘Why did you escape? It was an escape, I take it?’
She sighed heavily. ‘I thought they were old enough to manage without me. As for my husband, he’s a fraud, and I was one of his victims. In truth, I was his main victim. He took my money, then mortgaged my family home.’
‘Without permission?’
‘He thought I didn’t know what was going on. I kept quiet for the twins’ and Lizzie’s sake. Alan is an angry man. I didn’t want the children to be caught in a battle. So I came here as soon as they seemed old enough. But I know now that if it all ends up in court, none of us is old enough.’
‘Why here?’
‘A pin in a map. The pin stuck in the Mersey, actually, but this was the nearest land, so here I am. And it’s all going terribly wrong. My bankrupt husband has got himself thoroughly drunk and is in hospital. He’s had two heart attacks, and the next may be his last. If he stops working, he’ll die. If he continues to work, he’ll die, but he’ll be happier.’ She sighed heavily, her breath escaping on a sob that made her shiver.
‘A mess, then.’
‘Yes.’
He parked the car outside the hospital. ‘Lucy, it’s not your mess. It seems that you’ve been the peacekeeping force for long enough. Get a clear idea of what you want from life before starting to cobble together a plan for the man who hurt you, and for children who are grown. Right. I’ll stay here while you visit, then I’m taking you home. It’s time I had a look at your blood pressure. Go on, now. Shoo!’
He watched as she walked away. She was a lovely woman, bright, sweet-tempered and considerate. And she was built like a perfect Venus, good legs, beautiful hair, excellent teeth and . . . Moira was right. It was impossible to describe Lucy without reference to her magnificent bosom. Yet while he and most other men would like to bury their heads in her magnificence, she also brought out the paternal side of him. She needed looking after. But he had never been unfaithful to his wife. Small dalliances didn’t count. As long as he didn’t get involved, he was merely relieving himself of some tensions. This one was different.
Anyway, Lucy, too, was married. He found himself hoping almost desperately that she would not return to Bolton, that she would stay and continue her friendship with Moira, who was definitely benefiting from the new contact. It didn’t matter as much for him, he repeatedly told himself. Moira enjoyed and needed Lucy’s company. And that was all there was to it.
Alan Henshaw, who was a substantial figure of a man, had shrunk considerably. Or perhaps it was all the tubes, wires and machinery that made him smaller. The equipment seemed to be the size of a small symphony orchestra, while the soloist at the centre of it all was diminished by the plethora of pipes and bells with which he was surrounded. His heart was being monitored, and his blood pressure was taken automatically at set intervals. Fluid dripped into his body from above, and trickled out into a bag fastened to the side of his bed. Many of these appliances gave out beeps, alarms and ticking sounds, while the person at the centre of all the drama never so much as blinked.
Freddie Mercury singing ‘I Want to Break Free’ popped into Liz’s head from time to time. Her dad was in there somewhere, and he needed to break free. His stomach had been pumped and, after tests and close examinations, the liver had been declared fit to be used to sole shoes. It didn’t look too promising. She didn’t want Daddy to die.
His nurse, a plain-spoken woman, arrived to make a routine check. ‘Don’t worry, love,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen worse than this walk out on its own two feet after a few days. Mind you, if he doesn’t come off the sauce, he’ll probably bleed to death. Get him to sign into a clinic. He needs weaning off before he goes into a
‘Lucy?’
‘Yes?’
‘Why did you escape? It was an escape, I take it?’
She sighed heavily. ‘I thought they were old enough to manage without me. As for my husband, he’s a fraud, and I was one of his victims. In truth, I was his main victim. He took my money, then mortgaged my family home.’
‘Without permission?’
‘He thought I didn’t know what was going on. I kept quiet for the twins’ and Lizzie’s sake. Alan is an angry man. I didn’t want the children to be caught in a battle. So I came here as soon as they seemed old enough. But I know now that if it all ends up in court, none of us is old enough.’
‘Why here?’
‘A pin in a map. The pin stuck in the Mersey, actually, but this was the nearest land, so here I am. And it’s all going terribly wrong. My bankrupt husband has got himself thoroughly drunk and is in hospital. He’s had two heart attacks, and the next may be his last. If he stops working, he’ll die. If he continues to work, he’ll die, but he’ll be happier.’ She sighed heavily, her breath escaping on a sob that made her shiver.
‘A mess, then.’
‘Yes.’
He parked the car outside the hospital. ‘Lucy, it’s not your mess. It seems that you’ve been the peacekeeping force for long enough. Get a clear idea of what you want from life before starting to cobble together a plan for the man who hurt you, and for children who are grown. Right. I’ll stay here while you visit, then I’m taking you home. It’s time I had a look at your blood pressure. Go on, now. Shoo!’
He watched as she walked away. She was a lovely woman, bright, sweet-tempered and considerate. And she was built like a perfect Venus, good legs, beautiful hair, excellent teeth and . . . Moira was right. It was impossible to describe Lucy without reference to her magnificent bosom. Yet while he and most other men would like to bury their heads in her magnificence, she also brought out the paternal side of him. She needed looking after. But he had never been unfaithful to his wife. Small dalliances didn’t count. As long as he didn’t get involved, he was merely relieving himself of some tensions. This one was different.
Anyway, Lucy, too, was married. He found himself hoping almost desperately that she would not return to Bolton, that she would stay and continue her friendship with Moira, who was definitely benefiting from the new contact. It didn’t matter as much for him, he repeatedly told himself. Moira enjoyed and needed Lucy’s company. And that was all there was to it.
Alan Henshaw, who was a substantial figure of a man, had shrunk considerably. Or perhaps it was all the tubes, wires and machinery that made him smaller. The equipment seemed to be the size of a small symphony orchestra, while the soloist at the centre of it all was diminished by the plethora of pipes and bells with which he was surrounded. His heart was being monitored, and his blood pressure was taken automatically at set intervals. Fluid dripped into his body from above, and trickled out into a bag fastened to the side of his bed. Many of these appliances gave out beeps, alarms and ticking sounds, while the person at the centre of all the drama never so much as blinked.
Freddie Mercury singing ‘I Want to Break Free’ popped into Liz’s head from time to time. Her dad was in there somewhere, and he needed to break free. His stomach had been pumped and, after tests and close examinations, the liver had been declared fit to be used to sole shoes. It didn’t look too promising. She didn’t want Daddy to die.
His nurse, a plain-spoken woman, arrived to make a routine check. ‘Don’t worry, love,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen worse than this walk out on its own two feet after a few days. Mind you, if he doesn’t come off the sauce, he’ll probably bleed to death. Get him to sign into a clinic. He needs weaning off before he goes into a
Similar Books
