Adam tried his hardest to be brave. He was grateful that his mother would get help, yet he was terrified she might be crippled or made to stay a long time in hospital. She would be unhappy about that, because her greatest joy was walking the countryside, just the two of them together.

'Move away, son,' Phil urged him, as the ambulance men hurried in.

Adam backed away as they brought the stretcher forward. 'I love you, Mum,' he whispered. The tears made a bright trail down his face. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I'm sorry, Mum. I'm truly sorry ...'

But he was not sorry about the promise he had made, to make his father pay for what he had done. When he was big enough, he would go after him, and when he found him, he would make sure to punish him.

No, he was not sorry for any of that. The only thing he was sorry for just now was having made this vow out loud, and making his mother anxious.

From the back of the stairway, he watched as they treated his mother to ease her pain. He saw them cut into the rungs of the stairway and tenderly lift her clear, before securing her to the stretcher. Then they carried her to the ambulance where they raised the stretcher to slide her gently inside. In that moment, she made a feeble cry for her son.

He wanted to go to her, but he was too afraid. What if she was calling for him so she could tell him she would never see him again? What if she was in terrible pain and he couldn't stop it? What if ...? What if ...? Hopelessly mixed up inside, and more frightened than he had ever been in his young life, he took to his heels and ran.

Panic-stricken, he hid behind the shrubbery, where he sobbed as though his heart would break. 'Don't die, Mum,' he whispered brokenly. 'Please, Mum ... don't leave me.'

Realising the boy's fears, Phil found him and lovingly drew him away. 'I know she called for you, son, but she's delirious. There is nothing you nor I can do for her. She's getting the best care. If you want to go in the ambulance with your mum, you'd best be quick.'

'Will you come too?'

'I'm surprised you feel the need to ask.' Phil was already hurrying him to the ambulance where the attendants had executed the necessary safety procedures and were about to leave.

Phil and Adam climbed inside, and then they were swiftly away; the ambulance tearing along the lane with the sirens at full scream.

These fine, experienced men had seen it all before. They had learned to deal with desperate situations in a professional manner.

This particular call-out, however, was deeply disturbing. As they were both family men with young children, they found the boy's distress difficult to deal with. The disclosure that it was the child himself who had discovered his mother lying bloodied and broken on the stairway was shocking. Such a discovery could prove to be the stuff of nightmares for years to come.

Another concern was their shared suspicions with regard to the 'accident' itself. In their considered experience, the woman's extensive injuries did not appear to coincide with a tumble down the stairs.

For now though, getting her to hospital was their main priority.

Inside the ambulance, Adam sat quietly beside Phil, his attention riveted on his mum, and his eyes red and raw from crying. Every few minutes he would whisper to Phil, 'She will be all right, won't she?' And Phil would pacify him as best he could, though secretly, he had his own doubts as to whether Peggy Carter could survive.

He wondered about Adam's father, and the way he'd fled from the house like a guilty man. His instincts told him there was far more to Mrs Carter's so-called accident than met the eye.

Throughout the journey, the medic remained by Peggy's side, softly rea.s.suring and constantly tending her while she drifted in and out of consciousness. Not once did he glance across to the two anxious figures seated on the small bench at the back of the ambulance. He had a job to do, and if there was the slightest hope that this patient might survive, then time was of the essence.

To Phil and Adam the journey to the hospital seemed to have taken for ever, when in fact they were there in under an hour.

On arrival, the ambulance doors were thrown open and Phil and Adam scampered down onto the tarmac. The driver ran from his cab and climbed into the back, where the two men set about securing Peggy to the stretcher again. Phil and the boy waited anxiously, but it was only the briefest of moments before the two medics manhandled Peggy out of the ambulance. With one of them at each end of the stretcher and Peggy now deeply unconscious, they went at a run towards the hospital emergency doors where, having been forewarned, the medical staff were there to collect the patient and rush her straight to theatre.

While Peggy was hurried away, Adam and Phil were taken aside; though Adam tearfully insisted that he wanted to go with his mum. 'Where is she?' he wanted to know. 'What have they done with my mum?' Traumatised by the fear that he might never see her again, he called for her over and over.

The nurse gently a.s.sured him, 'The doctors are helping your mother now. Don't worry, she's in safe hands, and they'll come and tell you when you're able to see her. Meantime, there is nothing you can do. She truly is being taken care of, so please ... I know how hard it is, but you must try to be patient.'

She knew the boy might have a very long wait; especially since the message relayed from the ambulance crew to the hospital as they drove there had described the patient as having suffered life-threatening injuries.

'Look, I'll tell you what ...' She pointed to the little tuck cabin down the corridor. 'If you go and see Mavis, she might let you have a bottle of pop. Tell her Nurse Riley sent you, then she won't charge you a single penny for it.'

Phil understood her kindly motive. 'That's a good idea, Adam,' he encouraged the boy. 'In fact, I wouldn't mind a bottle of pop myself.'

With sorry eyes, Adam glanced at the green baize door through which they had taken his mother. 'All right then.' Reluctantly, he gave a little nod. 'But you have to promise you'll wait here, Phil. You won't leave me, will you?'

Phil choked back a tear. 'Me? Leave you?' He cradled the boy's face in his hands. 'I would never leave you, never in a million years!' Digging into his trouser pocket he withdrew a shiny coin, which he handed to the boy. 'There! You run off and see Mavis ... there's a good fellow.'

'Your grandfather is right,' Nurse Riley said. 'Mavis will be pleased to see you.'

Phil and the boy exchanged curious glances at her reference to Phil as 'your grandfather', but wisely, neither of them made mention of her remark.

A short time later, when they had drunk their pop and were seated in comfortable chairs in a small room off the main corridor, the silence between them was heavy.

All they could think of was Adam's mother, who lay just a short distance away, fighting for her life.

Every few minutes either Adam or Phil would go into the corridor and look to see if there was anyone they could speak to about how the boy's mother was doing, but there was no one about, except a man in a long white coat, in a great hurry, and a nurse rushing about with a trolley, piled high with newly laundered linen.

'They all have jobs to do,' Phil rea.s.sured Adam. 'I know you're worried, but we have to be thankful that the doctors are looking after her. No doubt someone will come out soon and tell us what's happening. Until then we'll have to be patient.'

Adam was desperately concerned for his mother. He was also concerned about what might happen to him. He reasoned that she would have to stay in hospital for at least a short while. His mother told him long ago that she had been adopted, and that when she met his father, her adoptive parents took an instant dislike to him, and forbade her to see him.

There was a huge row. Having just turned eighteen, she defied them and married his father without their blessing. Shortly after that, her parents emigrated to Australia, and she eventually lost all contact with them.

That was all Adam knew of his grandparents on his mother's side.

The only mention of his father's parents was during a heated argument between his own mother and father. He had learned that his father's older sister and both his parents were devoutly religious, while Adam's own father grew increasingly rebellious against their rigid and highly disciplined way of life. There were constant rows until, in his early twenties, he cut himself adrift from his family.

Now he had no idea where they were, nor did he want to know, because as far as he was concened, they did not exist.

During the many rows with his own wife, he claimed that she was much like his own mother; that she was domineering and saw no worth in him. He argued that instead of being grateful for the good life he provided for them both, she and Adam took him for granted. During his wild, unpredictable rants, he said they were like strangers to him; that they darkened his life and gave him nothing, yet they continued to feed off him like parasites.

He also threatened Adam's mother that if she ever mentioned his parents and sister again, she would be made to regret it. So, knowing from experience that he was more than capable of hurting her, Peggy wisely never again spoke of them.

Once, when Adam was caught eavesdropping outside the parlour, he was punished with the bunched knuckles of his father's fist across his head 'for hiding behind the door and listening in on a private conversation', he was told.

Now, with his father gone, hopefully for ever, he felt able to speak out.

'Phil?'

'Yes, son?'

'Can I tell you something?'

'Of course.'

'All right then.' In a whisper, and with a wary eye on the door in case his father should suddenly burst in, Adam told Phil everything.

He described the awful rows and the things he had learned about his father's family; that his father hated his sister and his parents, and had cut them out of his life. 'He said they were wicked, spiteful people, and that they made his life a misery, and now I'm frightened they might come and take me away, to look after me until Mum's better. But what if they never bring me back? I'm frightened, Phil. I don't want them to come and get me.'

Phil took it all in and when Adam fell silent, looking up at him with fear in his eyes, he a.s.sured him, 'If they're as bad as all that, they'll not be allowed to come for you.'

Adam then told Phil of his grandparents on his mother's side. 'Mum said her parents wanted her to go to Australia with them, but she didn't want to, and so they fell out and she left home. Then a while ago, some old neighbour told Mum that they'd gone to Australia, but she didn't know where, and Mum never heard from them again.'

'I see.' Phil nodded thoughtfully. 'By! That's a sorry situation and no mistake. So, it seems you've no close family other than your own parents, eh?'

Because Adam was already in pieces, Phil made no mention of his deep concern with regard to the boy's care. In the light of what he had just learned, he feared there could be all manner of trouble ahead.

'Phil?' Adam grew concerned when the older man lapsed into deep thought. 'Phil!'

Brought sharply out of his reverie, Phil put on a smile. 'Sorry, son ... I was just dwelling on what you said: no aunts nor uncles, nor family of any kind, except for your parents. By! It doesn't bear thinking about.' Fearing that Peggy Carter might not survive, he was deeply anxious for the boy's welfare.

Adam voiced his own concerns. 'If Mum has to stay in hospital for a long time, I don't want to stay in the house all on my own, so will you please stay with me until Mum gets home?'

Taken aback by the request, Phil wisely avoided answering directly. 'Aw, look, son. It's not good to get ahead of yourself like that. Let's just wait and see how things go, and then we'll decide what's best to do.'

Adam had another question: 'If you don't like to live in my house, can I come and stay with you then?' Growing tearful, he finished lamely, 'Please say yes, Phil, 'cause there's n.o.body to look after me until Mum comes home.'

Phil glanced about nervously. 'Ssh!' He pressed his finger to his lips. 'It's best not to discuss these things just yet. Let's leave it for now, son. Let's wait and see what the doctor says, then you and me ... we'll sort summat out. Try not to worry, and the less you say just now, the better.'

'All right, Phil, but if you stay with me at the house, I promise I'll be good. I'll do my homework, and if you want, you can fetch your little dog to stay with us.'

Phil's heart went out to the boy. He knew the situation could never work, and besides, it wasn't right not for him and not for Adam. And yet he was made to ponder what alternative there might be.

'Listen to me, son ...' Sidling closer to Adam, he spoke in a whisper. 'It seems they think I'm your granddad, but you and I know that is not the case.'

'We don't need to tell them, though, do we, Phil? You can still pretend to be my granddad ... until Mum comes home.' His voice shook with emotion. 'Please, Phil ... please!'

Phil felt torn. 'I'm sorry, son,' he said, being sensible, 'I don't know as I can move into your father's house. It would be wrong of me, and what if your father comes back? Like as not he'll have me arrested, and who could blame him?'

'All right! I'll come to your house and stay with you.'

'Aw, son ... I don't know.' Phil was growing more unsettled by the minute. 'It's a bad situation. I don't want to think on it right now, not until we see how it goes with your mother.'

'This is all Father's fault, isn't it?'

'I don't know, son. I'm not altogether party to the facts.' Wisely, Phil was reluctant to commit himself to such far-reaching accusations.

'It's true, Phil!' Adam spelled it out: 'He's always. .h.i.tting her, and she never tells anyone. And now he's hurt her so bad, he's got frightened and run away. He should be locked up for ever!'

Phil didn't really know what to believe, except what he had seen for himself today. And, talking about his father's brutal treatment of his mother, Adam seemed genuinely afraid.

Phil now voiced his own concerns. 'There's a possibility that you could be wrong about what happened. Maybe they had an argument and there really was a terrible accident, and if that's the case, your father will be worried sick when he gets home. I know one thing for sure, though, he will not be best pleased to see me and my dog taking up residence in his house. After all, I'm not even a relative. I'm just the driver of the school bus who's got himself caught up in a shocking accident-'

'It wasn't an accident! He did it, I know he did!'

'Sssh!' Phil instructed Adam, slightly unnerved. 'Like I say, just now, it's best not to talk about it too much. Let's just wait and see how things go. We'll have a better picture of the situation once the doctor tells us what's happening. Until then, however difficult it is, we have to be patient.' He looked the boy in the eye. 'Agreed?'

With a reluctant nod of the head, Adam had little choice but to agree. 'When Mum comes home, everything will be all right, though, won't it, Phil?'

'Let's hope so, eh?' Phil was well aware of the seriousness of this situation.

'Adam?' Phil asked.

'Yes, Phil?' Adam looked up.

'I have an idea to pa.s.s the time.' The child's small, anxious face made Phil immensely sad. 'Do you know what I was just thinking?'

'No.'

'Well, I was thinking how you and me could say a little prayer for your mum. What d'you think?'

'Oh, yes, please, Phil, I'd like that.' The tears brimmed over. 'Do you think it might help Mum to get better? I so much want her to come home. She will, won't she, Phil?' Throwing his arms round Phil's neck, he hugged him so hard that Phil found it difficult to breathe.

Phil held him at arm's length. 'Listen to me, Adam. Even if we say a prayer it doesn't mean that everything will come right. It doesn't always work like that. All I'm saying is, at certain bad times in my own life, I've always found a deal of comfort in saying a little prayer; hoping that somebody up there in the Heavens might be listening, and that somehow they would try and help. The thing is, sometimes, however much they might want to help, they just can't do it, and we will never know the reason for that. D'you understand what I'm saying?'

'If you said a prayer, why did they not help you?'

Phil took a deep breath. 'Well, it seems they weren't able to give what I really asked for, but they did help me ... a little.'

'In what way?'

Phil was beginning to wish he had never started this, because the painful memories were flooding back. 'Well, you see, when my dear wife was very ill, I prayed for the Lord to make her better ...' Composing himself, he went on in subdued tones, 'Sadly, my prayers were not answered, because that was not to be. Thankfully, though, they did stop her pain and I was grateful for that. Maybe she had to leave me, because she had important work to do in Heaven. Maybe someone up there needed her far more than I did.' Though he could not imagine how that might be, because for almost thirty years she was his world. His reason for living.

And now he had to stop tormenting himself, or the boy would see him cry and that would never do.

Adam's angry voice penetrated his thoughts: 'So, you said a prayer and asked for her to get better, then she died and you were sad. I think that was cruel.'

Phil nodded. 'It was cruel for me, yes, because I miss her every waking moment. But in a way, it was not too cruel for her, because you see, she was no longer in pain. Maybe she would never have got better, and that was why the Good Lord stopped her suffering. Yes, you're right in one way, because she was taken away from me, and I miss her. But I have so many wonderful memories to keep me warm.'

'You loved her very much, didn't you, Phil?'

Phil simply nodded.

'Did you love her as much as I love my mum?'

'Oh, yes. I'm sure I did. Y'see, we were together for a very long time.'

'So, did she say a prayer as well?'

'Well, I don't know for sure, because if she did send up a prayer, she never told me. Maybe her pain was so bad, she prayed for it to be gone, and in their wisdom, and because it was her that was in pain and not me, they decided to grant her wish instead of mine. That's fair enough ... don't you think?'

'I don't know.'

'Me neither, son, but we have to believe it was the only way.'

His life was not the same since losing his one and only love, and as long as he lived, it would never be the same again. Like it or not, he had to accept the situation.

He returned to his question, 'So, knowing that you can't always have your wish granted, do you still want us to say a little prayer for your mum?'

The boy smiled through his tears. 'Yes, but I only know the one that Mum used to say before I went to sleep.'