For now, though, he rea.s.sured himself, both Paula and Lucy would be concentrating on the wellbeing of their parents.

Reflecting on Lucy having seen them together, he blamed himself for not locking the back door. But he did not regret being with Paula. His only regret was that Lucy had discovered the truth before he could tell her that he and Paula were hoping to make a life together.

Telling Lucy of his and Paula's long-term plans was not something he looked forward to, although, to give Lucy her due, she was not a spiteful, excitable woman and would probably deal with it in her own sensible, quiet manner.

When they arrived at the hospital, the receptionist directed them to Lucy, who was anxiously waiting in a separate room for the doctor to arrive.

While Sam walked with his grandfather along the corridor, Martin went ahead.

Lucy was greatly relieved to see her family arrive, but when Martin stepped forward she quickly side-stepped him and went straight to her father, who looked sad and worn, and older than she could ever have imagined.

'Come and sit down, Dad.' Wrapping her arms round him, she walked him to the seat next to where she had been sitting. Sam followed and sat the other side of his grandfather.

Understanding Lucy's obvious snub, Martin sat opposite. 'What did the doctor say?' he asked Lucy. 'I expect your mum has to stay in for a while, does she? I mean, they'll need to give her a thorough checkup, especially as she's fallen twice now. Try not to worry, though. I'm sure she'll be all right.'

Lucy was shocked that he could be so natural after what she had witnessed between him and Paula. Nevertheless she acknowledged his rea.s.surance with a curt nod of the head, before turning to her father.

'A few minutes before you arrived, the nurse went to have a word with the doctor. Hopefully, it won't be too long before he comes to give us a progress report.'

'So you don't know how she is then?'

'No, Dad. Not yet.'

'Ah, well, they do say as no news is good news ... so if that's the case, we might be taking her home yet, eh?'

'Well, we won't know until he comes out, so don't get your hopes up. Like Martin said, they should keep her in and check her thoroughly. I mean, she hasn't been at all well lately, has she?'

'No.' The old man's face crumpled in disappointment. 'Lucy! Did you tell them about her fall some weeks back, when she was in town ... how she's never been the same since then? Did you tell them that she refused to see a doctor?'

'Yes, Dad, I told the nurse everything.'

'And did she say whether or not your mother would have to stay in ... or can we take her home with us? I'll look after your mother. I'll make her a bed in the sitting room; then she won't have any reason to go up and down the stairs, because I'll take care of everything.'

'No, Dad.' Lucy could see how upset he was becoming. 'From what the nurse was saying, Mum's injuries are very serious. I think they're too concerned about Mum to let her be looked after by you just yet. But, don't you worry, I'll come and stay with you at home while she's in here, then after she comes home I'll stay a while longer, help her to settle in ... make sure neither of you overdoes it.' She smiled lovingly. 'We don't want you wearing yourself out, do we, eh? Not when you've got me to help you. And don't concern yourself about my work, because they'll understand when I explain to them.'

In the light of her mother's bad fall, and what she had discovered about Paula and Martin, keeping her employers happy was not Lucy's top priority.

Right now, like this darling old fella, she just wanted her mum to be all right.

She glanced around. 'Where's Anne?'

'It's all right, Mum.' Sam could see the strain on his mother's face. 'Anne and Paula are on their way.'

'That's good.' She hoped Paula would have the decency to keep a distance between them.

Five long, anxious minutes pa.s.sed before the nurse returned. 'The doctor is on his way,' she informed them kindly.

The words had hardly left her lips when the doctor entered the room. 'Doctor ... oh, thank goodness!' The old man sat up straight. 'How is she? Has she been asking after me? Can I see her?'

The look on the doctor's face set Lucy's hopes plummeting, but his next words broke her heart. 'I'm so sorry.' His voice and manner said it all.

With much compa.s.sion he explained quietly to Lucy's father, 'Your wife suffered serious head injuries.' When he paused, they suspected the outcome even before he said it. 'We were not able to save her. I am so very sorry.'

In the wake of the full, devastating truth of his announcement, the silence was palpable; apart from a thin, broken wail of disbelief from the old man. Suddenly, he was shaking uncontrollably, his voice breaking as he called out 'I need to see her!'

Tears of grief flowed down his face as he stared at the doctor in disbelief. His voice fell to a whisper, as though he was trying to reason with himself. 'She was all right. She just fell ... that's all.' Struggling to stand, he stumbled back into the chair, his voice shaking with anger as he demanded of the doctor, 'Why couldn't you help her? You could have done something ... you should have done something!'

Sam came over to his grandfather and wrapped his arms round his leathery old neck. 'Oh, Granddad, what will we do now? What will we do without Grandma?' His sobs were terrible to hear.

This was his first experience of grief, and it was too much for him to cope with. Being the only grandson, he had always been close to his devoted grandparents.

Shocked to her roots, Lucy bowed her head and quietly sobbed; a great wave of loneliness consumed her. Her darling mum was gone. How could that be? Her caring, loving mum ... was gone. It was too hard, too soon, and her tortured mind refused to accept it.

She looked up and saw her father, bent and desolate, and her son, holding the old man, both of them broken by the unbelievable loss. Her father needed her, and Sam, her son. They both needed her, and she must be strong for them. Her own grief would have to wait. She was needed. She must try and be strong for the family. Oh, but how would she cope?

'Why could you not save her?' Martin was asking the doctor.

'I'm afraid her injuries were many,' the doctor explained. 'The broken wrist and collarbone we could of course deal with, but she must have fallen heavily ... awkwardly. She had suffered severe brain damage. I'm truly sorry ... we did everything we could. But it was never going to be enough.'

Having just entered the room, Paula and Anne heard everything. Anne ran to Lucy, who held her daughter fast. Paula stood silent at the door, unable to believe what had happened.

Sam held on to his granddad, the two of them drawing comfort from each other.

The old man came from a time when a man might hide his grief, but all he could think of was the impossible: that his beloved wife was gone for ever. And in his unbearable grief he clung to his grandson and sobbed like a child.

Lucy came to sit beside him. 'Dad ...' her soft, loving tone was greatly soothing, '... do you want to see Mum?'

When he looked up, there was a world of pain in his face. 'Lucy?' He choked back a sob. 'You know, don't you?'

'What do I know?' she asked.

'Your mum you know she was my life ... my beautiful girl. The only one I ever loved.'

Like everyone else, Lucy could not hold back the tears. 'I do know that, Dad,' she whispered, 'and I know what you must be feeling right now. Mum was a huge part of all our lives and we will miss her terribly. We will always be there for you, Dad, and I promise to look after you. I'm the elder so it's my place, and Mum would not want you to be on your own. Now, though, is not the time to talk about such matters. For the moment, we need to say our goodbyes.' She held out her hand.

Reaching out, the old man laid his hand over hers and squeezed it tight. 'You're a good girl, Lucy. You and your sister ... good girls. But just now, I need my Susie. Tell them, Lucy. I have to see her.' His voice broke with emotion. 'Please, Lucy, I want to be with her. I have to tell her how sorry I am, and how very much I love her ... always have, always will. She needs to know that, Lucy ...' His voice broke, shivering in a sob. 'I need to see her.'

'Are you sure, Dad?' Lucy was worried that such an ordeal might be too much for him.

The old man was adamant. 'I'm sure.'

Lucy looked up at the doctor. 'Is it all right? Can we see her?'

'Yes, of course, but could you give us a few minutes?' The doctor was used to family reaction after losing a loved one, but the old man's sorrow in particular cut him deep. His training, however, dictated that he must not show his feelings.

'Thank you, Doctor.' Lucy understood. She believed her father might also welcome a few minutes to prepare himself for the ordeal ahead of him.

Her mother had been his constant companion for many years, as dear to him as was his own life. She was his beautiful wife, his sweetheart, his friend and lover. And the caring mother of his two daughters.

Lucy knew how very close they had been, something few people ever encounter in a lifetime; herself included.

Having to say goodbye for ever to this remarkable woman was too cruel. Too final.

At that moment, the doctor turned to the nurse and gave a discreet nod.

'Right away, Doctor.' She fully understood, and hurried away.

Paula, Anne and Martin decided they would rather not go in just now, but would pay their respects later.

Sam, though, was undecided, until Lucy a.s.sured him, 'You'll have a chance later to say your goodbyes, but if you really want to see your grandma now, I won't try and dissuade you. The thing is, my darling, you've had a huge shock to deal with we all have. It might be wiser to say your goodbyes later, when we'll all be there alongside you.'

Paula and Anne made no comment, but Martin and Sam's granddad agreed with Lucy. So, having been persuaded, Sam returned to sit beside his father, his sorry gaze fixed on Lucy and Granddad, as they walked out the door and down the corridor behind the nurse.

With a breaking heart, Lucy offered her arm to take the weight of her father. As he leaned against her, he seemed to grow smaller and sadder with every reluctant step.

While they were gone, Martin went outside to smoke a cigarette. When Paula came to join him, he felt greatly comforted.

'Where in G.o.d's name does Lucy get her strength from?' he asked.

Paula shook her head. 'I honestly don't know. You can see how devastated she is at losing Mum as we all are but whenever there's a need for someone to take the lead and be strong, she's there. She seems to know what has to be done, and she steps forward without hesitation.'

Martin was curious. 'Was she always like that, as a girl, I mean?'

'Yes, always. At least as far back as I can remember.'

There was a short span of silence while they thought of Lucy, and what they had done to her.

'Paula,' Martin glanced back, lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, 'are we wicked, you and me, planning a life together, when this awful business will surely cripple her? I mean, she actually saw us together, yet so far she hasn't said a word about it. It's like it never happened.'

'That's Lucy for you. Like I say, she's strong. She takes the blows, and deals with it in her own way.'

'I never meant to hurt her.'

'Well, it's too late for that, because we have hurt her ... badly.'

For a fleeting moment, Martin felt truly sorry that Lucy had seen them. 'Honestly, Paula, I feel like a right swine. What with her losing your mother and all that, she must be feeling like her whole life is falling apart.'

'So ... are you finishing with me?' She grew angry. 'Have you changed your mind? Because I haven't.'

'No! I am not "finishing with you".'

'Good! Because losing our mum has knocked me back as well, but I still love you. Lucy or no Lucy, we both know we belong together.'

Just then, Sam wandered out. 'Dad, I think maybe I should have gone in to say my goodbyes to Grandma.'

'No, son,' Martin rea.s.sured him, 'your mum was right. We can all say our goodbyes later, when we're more able to accept what's happened.' He slid his arm round Sam's shoulders. 'It's tough, I know, but I promise we'll get through it.'

He glanced at Paula, and his heart lifted. He knew she was right. However much it might hurt Lucy, and whatever price he was made to pay, it was Paula he really wanted.

The three of them made their way back inside, just as Lucy and her father returned.

Lucy's father looked ashen; his eyes red raw where he had constantly wiped away the tears. He appeared to have shrunk, seeming more like a small child than a grown man. As before, he leaned heavily on Lucy, constantly looking up at her, as though making sure she was still there.

Lucy spoke not a word. She gave the impression that she was coping, but those who knew her well realised that she was holding her grief back, remaining strong for everyone else.

Lost in thoughts of the much-loved lady left behind, Lucy and the family left to embark on their sorry journey home.

Having eased her father safely into the van, Lucy remained a moment to look back at the hospital building. 'Love you, Mum,' she whispered. 'G.o.d bless.' When the tears began to burn, she blinked them back. 'All right, are you, Dad?'

'Lucy?'

'Yes, Dad?'

'Will you stay with me tonight? I don't want to be on my own.'

'Of course I will, Dad. Or if you'd rather, you can come and stay with me at my house.'

The old man was adamant. 'No. I need to be at home.'

'That's all right, Dad. I'd best get Martin to pack me a few things, and bring them over.'

As she walked across the car park to speak with Martin, who was comforting Anne, the old man turned to look at her, a loving smile on his face. 'Aw, Lucy girl, you're just like your darling mum,' he murmured. 'It's true, your sister was always the pretty one who drew everyone's eye. Your beauty, though, was always on the inside. Our kind and loving Lucy. Nothing is ever too much trouble for you.'

His sorry gaze wandered back to the building where the love of his life lay. 'My darling Susie,' he whispered, 'why did you have to leave me, just when I need you most?' Closing his eyes, he felt desolate, remembering how it was with her in his life. 'You and me, we still had so much life to live. It was always the two of us, and now it's just me, on my own.'

He caught a glimpse of how lonely he would be from now on. It won't matter how many people gather round me, he thought, because without you, I'll still be on my own. If that's how my life is to be from now on, there will seem no purpose to it.

On seeing Lucy approach, he forced a little smile. Inside, though, his sad old heart was in pieces.

'I'm sorry if it took too long,' Lucy said, 'but I was worried about Anne. She's been too quiet by far.'

'I know.' He had a soft spot for his granddaughter. 'She never does have much to say, but I expect she's in shock, as we all are.'

'Anne has always been very deep, that's the trouble.' Lucy vowed to keep a wary eye on her daughter. 'She's never been one for sharing her feelings.'

'She's a lot like you in that way.' Lucy's father had always worried about his elder daughter. 'Since you were a little girl, you've always been the quiet one. Always believing you can carry the world on your shoulders, but you can't, sweetheart. n.o.body can. Everyone needs someone alongside them through life, like me and your mum. Always looking out for each other. That's why I'm glad you've got your Martin.'

As he continued to praise her husband it was just as well he did not see the sorry look on Lucy's face.

Martin drove Lucy and her father back to Addison Street, then he and Sam went on home. Martin promised to return with an overnight bag for Lucy. She set about making her father comfortable in the sitting room. 'I'll make us a hot drink,' she told him. 'Do you need anything else, Dad?'

'No thanks, love.' He felt so empty and desperately sad.

He glanced across at his wedding photo, standing proud on the dresser. 'I remember the day me and your mum got wed,' he reminisced. 'It's like only yesterday. She looked so beautiful. She was my princess, and I was the proudest man on earth. I can't believe that she will never again walk through that door to lighten my life.' In all his considerable years, even with his favourite daughter there beside him, he had never felt so desolate that he could barely breathe. Choking back the sorrow, he covered his face briefly with his hands.

'Never mind the tea,' he suggested, 'you get off. Go to bed, Lucy, love.' He saw how worn she was. 'It's getting late, and you look done in.'

'It's not that late, Dad.' I'll make you a mug of cocoa, and sit with you for a while. Besides, the cocoa might help you sleep.'