Read Online The Night the Angels Came by Cathy Glass - Free Book Online Page B

to the front door. We could hear Adrian and Michael telling each other of the daring diving stunts they were going to perform when we went swimming, while Paula, less sure of the water, sat quietly listening.
    ‘It’ll do Michael good to have a weekend away from all the responsibility,’ Stella confided as I saw her out. ‘I haven’t seen him look so excited about anything in a long while. Usually all his talk is of his dad’s medication – which tablets he has to take and when. This will give him a complete break and a chance to be a child again. Thanks for all you’re doing.’
    ‘There’s no need to thank me,’ I said, embarrassed. ‘Michael’s a lovely lad. I just wish I was looking after him in different circumstances.’
    Stella nodded. ‘So do I, Cathy. So do I. It’s all so very sad.’
    Having seen Stella out I returned to the sitting room and announced it was Paula’s bedtime. ‘School and nursery tomorrow,’ I reminded them, ‘so no one is going to be very late.’ Adrian and Michael pulled a face. ‘Boys,’ I continued, ‘once Paula is clear of the bathroom and is in bed, I would like you two to start getting ready. Adrian is usually in bed at eight on a school night,’ I added, addressing Michael.
    ‘So am I,’ Michael admitted, ‘but what if my dad phones when I’m in bed?’
    ‘I’ll get you up. Don’t worry, you will speak to your dad when he phones: of course you will. I’ll take your bag up now and put it in your room. Paula, say goodnight to Adrian and Michael.’
    ‘Good night,’ she said reluctantly, not wanting to leave them. She stood and offered her cheek for kissing – first to Adrian as she usually did, and then to Michael, who gave her a little peck.
    ‘Good girl,’ I said.
    She came over and gave a little wave. ‘Night, night,’ she called as we left the sitting room.
    ‘Night,’ the boys chorused behind us. ‘Sleep tight. Sweet dreams,’ Michael added, which I guessed was probably what his father said to him at night.
    Upstairs, I put Michael’s holdall in his room and then ran Paula’s bath, all the while listening out for the phone. It was 7.15 and Stella had said she thought Patrick would phone at the end of visiting time – about 7.30. I hoped he didn’t leave it too late as, in my experience, children can become very fretful, with worries and sadness escalating if they become over-tired. Problems and anxieties always seem more manageable in the morning after a good night’s sleep. Fortunately at 7.45, just as I was tucking Paula into bed, the phone rang.
    ‘Cathy! The phone!’ Michael shouted from downstairs. ‘Shall I answer it?’
    I was already on the landing, going to my bedroom to answer the extension. ‘Just a moment,’ I called down to him. I wanted to make sure it was Patrick.
    I picked up the extension and said hello. Even before he spoke I knew it was him, for I heard the small gasp as he caught his breath before he spoke.
    ‘Hi, Patrick. How are you?’ I bubbled. ‘Good to hear from you.’
    ‘And you, Cathy,’ he said, taking another breath. ‘Thank you for looking after Michael at such short notice.’
    ‘No problem.’
    ‘I think I’m going to have to postpone our dinner date on Saturday,’ he said with a small laugh. ‘Pity, because I’d bought a nice bottle of wine especially.’
    ‘The lengths some people will go to to avoid my cooking!’ I said. He laughed again but I could hear it was a lot of effort for him to talk and his breathing was more laboured than when I’d seen him before. ‘I’ll put Michael on,’ I said. ‘He’s waiting by the phone downstairs. Perhaps we could have a chat when you’ve finished talking to him?’
    There was another pause in which Patrick took a long-drawn-in breath before he spoke. ‘Would it be all right if we had a chat tomorrow, Cathy?’ he said. ‘I’m not so good at present. I’m exhausted. The doctors have told me that once I’ve have this blood I’ll feel much