7 comments/ 9745 views/ 4 favorites Not Just for Christmas Ch. 07-09 By: Alwaysraining Decree Absolute: the final legal dissolution of a marriage Chapter Seven Mike leapt up, his chair rolling back and smashing against the wall. He ran for the car to find Rosemary ahead of him. God!, he thought fleetingly, her reactions are quick! He drove too fast but almost safely. If they were to pick up a police car on the way, so much the better. As they drove, Rosemary phoned the police and then Liam Truscot in case the local lads didn't take it seriously. They arrived at the house, Rosemary using the remote to open the gates while they were a hundred yards away. The front door was wide open and they ran in and shuddered to a stop in the hallway. Claire was lying on the hall floor in a pool of blood, completely naked and unconscious. She had been savagely beaten and stabbed and slashed a number of times. He took in the ugly slash down her cheek and her bruised face, her bruised body and the cuts to her breasts, stomach and thighs, the blood. Rosemary ran to her and seemed about to move her. "Don't!" he cried. "We don't know if she has a spinal injury!" She shot him a look of contempt and bent to try for a pulse on her neck. "Alive," she said. Rosemary was gently calling her name, and she stirred. She opened her eyes but she was only semi-conscious. "Shania!" she said, quite clearly, and then lapsed back into unconsciousness. Then it hit Mike. Gary had finished with Claire thinking he'd killed her; now he was after his daughter. "Tell the police about the alarm," he shouted as he left. "The cameras will have been working. I'm going after Siobhán at school. Tell them that." He drove hard to the school and skidded to a halt in the space reserved for buses. He ran towards the main entrance, only to be stopped by the caretaker. "Sorry sir," the man said. Mike wondered why the most officious characters always call you 'sir'. "You can't park there, and you can't go in there either. There's a madman in there." "Yes," Mike shouted in his face, "and he's here to kill my daughter so get the fuck out of my way." The man saw the wisdom in Mike's argument immediately and stood aside. Mike approached the entrance only to be confronted by a strange tableau. A slim but well built handsome dark haired man, dressed in what could only be called a flashy suit, was behind a woman dressed in a flowery tabard, a dinner lady perhaps. He was holding one of her hands behind her back and had a knife against her throat. Somehow the suit he was wearing made the whole thing seem incongruous. Neither was moving. Not surprisingly. As Mike gingerly made his way through the entrance doors, the man who Mike took to be Sonter was shouting at the office staff through the glass partition, which protected them from just this eventuality. "I'll give you one minute to get my daughter or I cut her throat," he yelled. "I've got nothing to lose. Move!" Mike could see one of the secretaries dialling a number. He doubted it was to a classroom. Then another woman emerged, sidled past him and ran off down the corridor. From what the man shouted, Mike knew it was Sonter. Sonter hadn't seen Mike, so intent was he on holding onto the dinner woman. Mike knew he needed to distract him and divert him from her. "Gary," Mike spoke quietly but firmly. "I'm the man Claire left you for." It worked. His head jerked round, he let go of the woman and turned to face Mike. The knife was a longish thin kitchen knife and now it was pointing at Mike. Out of the corner of Mike's eye he could see the woman stumbling away. Sonter laughed, "If the bitch isn't dead already, you won't want her now. I've seen to that. But you! This is a bonus." The distance between them was about ten yards. Mike kept to the middle of the entrance hall; he needed room to manoeuvre. He suddenly realised that he was in a short-sleeved shirt and light trousers; it was a very warm day now after the early rain, and he had rushed from the office as he was. Somehow it made him feel more vulnerable, almost naked. Sonter began to move towards him, an evil grin on his face. "What d'you want your daughter for?" Mike asked. "She's not done anything to you." "She's as bad as her mother!" he snarled. "I said I'd kill the lot of them. If I can't have them no one will." "You're a bit of an idiot then," Mike mocked him, playing for time; Sonter was edging closer. "You'll not get either of your daughters or your son," Mike nodded at the office reception. "They've already phoned the police. You're done for. The two young ones are out of your reach and I'll not let you near Siobhán." Sonter stopped, perplexed, "Who's Siobhán?" "She's changed her name," Mike told him. "She hated the name Shania that you gave her. Come to think of it, she hates you. You bastard! Beating up and kicking your own daughter. They'll love you in prison." "You cunt!" he muttered. "They may get me, but you won't be alive to see it." He was now within arm's reach. Mike braced himself to dodge his attack. Sonter waved the knife to and fro in front of him, then suddenly his arm flashed forward too quick for Mike. Mike felt a searing pain as the knife sliced his left arm above the elbow. The knife was not razor sharp and it hurt. He instinctively brought his right hand to cover the wound and that allowed Sonter to make a second jab, this time at Mike's left thigh. Another flash of intense pain. In the split second after that, Mike realised he was going to die unless he did something drastic. Sonter laughed mockingly. Mike dropped his right hand to his side, though everything in him screamed to hold the wounds. "Well, well!" Sonter crowed. "Not quite quick enough are we? A few more cuts before I finish you off? Like that would you?" He lunged forward. This time it was going for Mike's chest to stab rather than cut. Mike swayed to his right, holding his injured arm out, and Sonter missed his chest. Instead he caught his ribcage a glancing blow. Another cut, another shot of pain, though by this time the adrenaline must have cut in because it seemed less intense. As Sonter's arm passed under Mike's armpit Mike trapped it with his arm. The pain coursed through him but he held on. Mike knew he was too near Sonter to land any blows. It was not enough, Mike was losing strength. Sonter pulled the knife out with surprising force for such a slim man and the blade caught Mike's ribcage a second time. Mike leapt back as he came free, and took another two or three steps to get clear of Sonter who came after him. Sonter was enraged, his face red and his eyes wild. Mike knew then for certain that he was going to die. Sonter came forward, the knife pulled back and low ready for a strike to Mike's stomach, but as he took his second and third steps, and Mike his fourth backwards, Mike was saved by a voice. "Dad!" It was Siobhán. "What the hell are you doing?" Sonter lost his focus. He half turned to see his daughter. The distraction meant he lowered the knife and it no longer pointed at Mike. It was enough, all Mike needed. He closed on Sonter and as Sonter's head jerked round to find Mike again, Mike gave him what is known as a 'Glasgow Kiss'. He head-butted Sonter's nose and between the eyes with his forehead as hard as he could. It hurt his head but it did worse to Sonter, whose nose was broken and flattened. Sonter began to fall backward, arms out to save himself. Mike dived forward and with both his hands caught Sonter's right wrist which still held the knife, twisting it hard. The pain Mike felt was excruciating, but the knife flew from Sonter's hand and Sonter's own backward momentum did the rest. Mike heard a bone crack a second before he had to let go to prevent himself from falling on top of Sonter. Mike looked down, the floor was red with blood, his own, and his left side, arm and leg were bleeding profusely. The pain all came back, everything became blurred and distant and he sank down onto the ground. Then blackness crept over and enveloped him. - The police were running in as Mike disarmed Sonter and they prevented the Head Teacher, who had emerged somewhat belatedly at that moment, from picking up the knife. Just as well since it had Mike's and Claire's DNA on the blade, and Sonter's fingerprints all over the handle. Sonter was stunned and his arm was broken so he was a threat no longer. - Mike came to consciousness in semi-darkness. He didn't know where he was but he did know he had the mother of all headaches. There was a cannula attached to his hand, and that informed him that he was in hospital, and a bottle of plasma on his other side. "He's awake." The voice was Rosemary's and he felt her take his other hand in hers. He turned his head to see her and the pain in his head was blistering. "How d'you feel, our hero?" she asked, smiling. "There's someone in my head hammering to get out," Mike groaned. "We can sort that out," said another voice and a nurse came into view. The nurse had stubble on his chin and Mike thought he must have had a long shift, but he put a needle into the cannula on the back of Mike's hand, and the next Mike knew it was a bright late sunny morning and he felt fragile but better. It all came back to him. He started up and immediately a gentle hand pushed him back. "Lie still Dad," said a familiar female voice and there was Siobhán. She kissed his cheek and there was a tear in her eye. "You've been out of it for two days, just relax." "Claire? What about Claire?" he groaned; he had remembered, and he was worried sick. The picture of her lying unconscious on the floor came back with unnerving clarity. "Dad, Dad," she soothed. "Mum's out of danger. All the stab wounds missed vital organs, and they've operated on her. She's still in Intensive Care, but out of danger. Don't worry." "Have you seen her?" he was calmer now. "Yes," she answered. "She's not conscious yet; they're keeping her sedated." "I must see her!" he started to sit up again. "Dad, you lost a lot of blood. You're very weak. Just lie still. Rosemary's with her." She was right. He felt dizzy and faint from just trying to sit up. Pain jabbed into his left arm and his chest; there was a duller throbbing from his thigh. "What about Ginny and Ryan?" "Safely off to school. Rosemary's been great, and Julie came in while she was here with you in hospital." "You're not at school." "Full marks for observation Dad," she laughed. "I'm supposed to be in shock. Anyway, I'm not going back until one of you is out of here." "You're calling me Dad again," he admonished her. "That's right," she said with an air of stubbornness. "From now on that's what you are. You rushed to save my life. You would have died to save me; you nearly did. That's what Dads do. That bastard, sorry Dad but he is one, wanted to kill me. He's not my dad; I'm ashamed he's my father. Let me call you Dad, please?" What could he say? In any case the conversation was getting too much for him and he started to nod off. She stroked his forehead and planted a gentle kiss on it, and he drifted back into sleep. He woke again when a nurse, female and pretty this time, brought him some lunch. There were no visitors. He realised he was hungry and ate everything on the tray. He immediately felt better. He pressed the bell and asked for some more tea, after drinking which he felt even better. He discovered he was wearing pyjamas. It had been so long since he had worn anything to bed, that he wasn't sure they were his until a nurse assured him that his 'daughter' had brought them in. Later he was allowed to walk or rather hobble with a nurse fussing by his side, to the toilet. She asked if he needed a hand and when he answered that he thought he could just about hold his own, she obligingly laughed. Next day, Rosemary visited him in the afternoon before leaving to meet Ginny and Ryan from school. In the evening Siobhán brought the two younger children in to see him. Ginny looked a little overawed, but Ryan was unperturbed. They prattled about school and about Rosemary and Julie, and soon it was time to go. Siobhán returned a while later to tell him that Claire was out of intensive care and would be brought round slowly from sedation beginning the following morning. Next day he was allowed out of bed and took some limited exercise up and down the ward and the corridors outside. In the afternoon he was told he would be allowed home the following day. Siobhán came to tell him that Claire was 'sort of conscious', as they were bringing her out of sedation slowly. They were worried about the head injuries. By the next morning he was feeling a lot better, and the stitched gashes on his arm, leg and chest were beginning to heal nicely though they still hurt. The dressings would have to be changed often but he had mobility. He tried to see Claire, but was told she was being treated and would not be back on the ward until evening. Rosemary as always came to his rescue and drove him home. She had moved in at home to look after the children. The day of the attack she had cleaned the blood off the floor and the walls of the entrance hall, once the SOCO team had finished, so the house was clean. [SOCO: Scene Of Crime Officers, otherwise known as CSI] That evening he drove back to the hospital himself. It hurt his arm and chest. He was admitted to Claire's ward and was shocked at her appearance. She looked dreadful and his reaction must have shown in his face. "Bit of a shock?" she said in a flat tone. "You forget I saw you on the floor at the house; you look much better." He tried to sound upbeat but he could see she was very depressed by her appearance. He got down to business. He said he needed to get a live-in nanny for the children, to which she agreed, and he promised to bring a likely candidate to her for her approval. He made a mental note that the woman must not be too good looking. He managed to see the doctor and got a run down on her condition. She checked he was Claire's next of kin, than sat with him and did not hold back. "She's very morose," she said. "She will be badly scarred on her body, but the stab wounds in her legs are healing well. Her assailant cut a muscle when he slashed her cheek, so one side of her face is paralysed at the moment. There will be another operation to attempt to improve things for her, but it's unlikely she will fully recover." "Can anything be done cosmetically for her face?" he asked. "Well," she replied, "the National Health Service will only pay for essential surgery. You'd have to go private for purely cosmetic work." She named a local private hospital with an excellent reputation for cosmetic work. Mike indicated cost would be no object and she reckoned Claire would be able to move out to that hospital after a week or so, but the cosmetic surgeon would come into hospital to examine her and even begin treatment before moving her to the private hospital. So the next days were passed in whirl. He was not back at work, but Rosemary was well capable of running things. There was a flurry of media interest in the attack and the arrest. There were reporters at the gates to the house and a couple of TV crews, all of whom attempted to interview him about his 'heroic' saving of Claire and Siobhán. When he remembered his poor showing against Gary he shuddered. Far from him saving Siobhán, she had saved him with her timely interjection. He was accordingly vague and non-committal, and this raised his credit with the other parents at Siobhán's school. Apparently he was a hero at the school thanks to the dinner lady and the secretaries. Siobhán glowed with pride. The interviewers did ask him about his relationship with Claire and the children. He merely said she was his live-in housekeeper. Was it odd that he had a whole family living with him? He replied that she could hardly have left them at home with Gary, given his character. What, they asked, should be done with Gary? He replied that all he wanted was for Claire and the children to be safe, and Gary shouldn't be released until the authorities were sure he was no longer a threat to them. This seemed to disappoint them. It was a one-day wonder, and the family were soon left alone. Mike collected children, took children, fed children, helped them in the evenings. Visited Claire in the daytime. Visited Claire with children in the evenings. Asked around friends and found a reputable Nanny agency. Baulked at the cost, but paid. Interviewed candidates with Rosemary. Took chosen candidate to Claire. Got the go ahead. Moved Nanny into the guest bedroom. Liam Truscot arrived at the house to tell Mike the evidence against Gary Sonter was overwhelming, the DNA on the knife was enough on its own coupled with the descriptions of the school staff and Rosemary. The visual and audio evidence from the surveillance cameras at his home was graphic and clear. Sonter's comments about his intention to kill Siobhán were self-incriminating. Liam asked if Mike wanted the DVD back after the trial, and Mike told him to destroy it. Liam reckoned Gary Sonter was looking at a life-sentence for the knife attack on Claire, which was attempted murder, and at least ten years for the violent attack on Mike, if the CPS didn't think they could get a conviction for attempted murder on him as well. Then Sonter would be charged with his violence on Claire and Siobhan the previous Christmas. Mike managed to convince Claire to transfer to the other hospital for cosmetic work on her face and body, and possible additional surgery on her cheek. The surgeon had a reputation for superb repair work involving nerves as well as muscles. Claire was still very depressed and showed little sign of coming out of it. The doctor suggested it might have been a result of the head injury she received. Much of each visit was full of reports on Mike's activities and discussions about day to day running of things at home, so there was no time for sharing their feelings for each other. They kissed when he arrived and when he left, and he always told her he loved her but she didn't answer in like manner. Mike wondered later if they should have talked more about themselves; he concluded it was a serious mistake and he blamed himself for it. -- Claire made good progress and was able to transfer on the following Wednesday to the private hospital where the cosmetic surgery would be carried out. She was to stay for a fortnight, would undergo surgery and then be able to go home soon afterwards and attend as an outpatient until she went in for more surgery. Mike left instructions at the hospital she was leaving to direct visitors to her new hospital. She went by ambulance. During his visits she was taciturn and still seemed hopeless; there was a feeling of resignation about her. He tried to make conversation but received few answers. It was beginning to annoy him but he knew she had been through a horrific experience and he would need patience. He was encouraged somewhat that she still hugged and kissed him though gingerly. She managed a lop-sided smile when he arrived and when he left. The two talked about family matters and about the forthcoming surgery, for the outcome of which which she had little hope. She had a room to herself with television and radio; there were armchairs and a desk and chair. There was also Internet access, though she did not want it. The family visited her that evening and the evening after. Surgery happened on the Friday, and she was not awake that evening. She was in pain on Saturday and they did not stay long. Sunday she felt better though she was still heavily bandaged on her face. So the week passed. Jessica, the nanny, took the children to various places, and the parents of other children rallied round and took them for days out. Mike visited Claire alone, with Siobhán or with all the children. Not Just for Christmas Ch. 07-09 On the Monday following they had reduced the bandaging. The family were in various ways busy so Mike arrived alone. As he entered a nurse was walking the other way. "Plenty of visitors today," she said smilingly in passing him. "That's good," he replied, and promptly forgot the comment. They kissed as usual but he immediately sensed her attitude had changed. She was distant, preoccupied. If he asked a question she would answer but he could tell she had something on her mind. He asked her what the matter was but was told it was nothing, just pain. He didn't believe her but this was no time to argue. One piece of information she volunteered was that she could go home at the weekend, provided there were no complications. On the Tuesday he arrived in the evening alone. The children had been to see her during the day, thanks to the school holidays, and he came straight from work. The nurse at the desk greeted him. "She'll be able to go home on Thursday," she said. "Everything is healing well." "That's good," he said. "She's been busy today with all her visitors," she added. Mike assumed, wrongly as it happened, she was talking about the children and Jessica, and made no comment. What followed put it out of his mind. He entered the room. Her face was bruised, and the scar was livid, but the paralysis seemed to be reduced. Her face seemed less lop-sided, and her lips were straighter. But when he went to kiss her lips as he always did, she turned her head so he kissed her cheek, he stiffened. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Mike," she said, in that flat tone he had almost got used to. "I've been doing a lot of thinking here on my own." "I've noticed you've been preoccupied." "Yes. And I've made some decisions." He was puzzled. "Decisions?" "I've had quite a few visitors over the past few days and I asked them questions, and from the answers I got I've come to a decision. It's about you and me." "What do you mean? You've come to a decision about us without discussing it with me?" "Yes. It's better this way," she hastened onward. "Mike, it's better we break up." "I don't understand. Is it something I've done?" He felt panic rising. "Is it the children?" "No. Listen. I've made up my mind. It's best for both of us." "No it isn't!" "It is. Please listen to me, Mike. As I said I've talked to a lot of friends. You are a person who loves beautiful things, and attractive people. With me now you'll have an ugly cripple. Why are you spending all this money on cosmetic surgery? Why did you urge me so strongly to come here? To make me beautiful again. It isn't going to happen, Mike." He was about to interrupt but she stopped him. "Mike, I couldn't stand the pity on your face every day. I saw it when you first came to visit me. You will put up with me for a while out of love I'm sure, but eventually the novelty will wear off and you'll come to resent me and then you'll be off with other women, pretty women. I've been through that with Gary, I can't afford the risk of it happening again. "Your friends speak of your sense of duty. They agreed you'll want to stick by me out of duty. I'm too proud for that, and I'd resent it in you. We'd begin to argue and I'd become bitter. I can't do that to you. "The way you've behaved convinced me of that. You've been all business, but you never once told me you missed me. You've done everything by the book, got a nanny, looked after the children, visited me every day, but there's been a distance. No don't say anything, I don't need lies. "I love you, but I can't be with you with all this baggage. It's better to part now than destroy each other later. "Victor asked me to consider moving back home now that Gary is remanded in custody until the trial and he will certainly be convicted. Victor said that the financial settlement would be better if I'm in residence in the family home. So I'm going to move back there." "This is rubbish!" he shouted. "None of it is true. I do love you, it's just been so hard juggling all these things and feeling low with my own pain and these scars of mine. Don't I always kiss you when I arrive and when I leave? I get flashbacks. I'm not sleeping. Knowing you will be coming home eventually is what keeps me going. I don't know what I'll do without you." "I'm sorry Mike, but it's for the best. I know you'll find someone else." "How do you know that? Have you got a crystal ball?" "Believe me Mike I know more than you think. I'm sure you'll find someone and soon." "What about the children? You going to break everything apart just when they thought that we were getting together and were secure, and then all this? How can you?" "It'll be like a divorce," she said obstinately. "They can come and visit you." "That's stupid." "Not as stupid as us keeping together. Believe me Mike, I know there's more to this than I'm saying but I won't stand in your way. Now I want you to go. It would be better if you didn't visit me any more. I'll phone you when I'm home and Jessica can bring the children and our things." "Claire, please, you're making a big mistake and you're totally wrong about everything." "Mike," there were tears now. "I'm so grateful for all you've done. You saved my life. You saved Siobhán's life. You gave me a job and training and a car. I got back my confidence and self-respect. I want you to go because I love you. It's the least I can do. Now you can go back to..." And she stopped. "To what?" "Please go. It's what's best for you." "Claire-" "Go! Leave me!" She was clearly distressed. He did not understand but he went. He was dazed as he went out to the car. He drove out of the car park heedlessly. How he managed to get as far as he did, he would wonder later, but before long he began to cry and had to stop because he couldn't see where he was going. He bawled his eyes out. There was no thought, only feelings. It is a cliché but he felt his world had fallen apart. He had for months resisted the woman then they gave themselves to one another and the bliss was legendary. Now she had dumped him. It was over. His lover had rejected him. It was desolation. Utter loneliness. It wasn't fair. Eventually the most abject grief lessened and the tears stopped at least for a time. How long that took he never knew. But when he emerged he knew he could not go straight home. He would have to face the children if he did, and he could not trust himself not to break down again. He phoned Jessica, told her a problem had come up and to kiss the children goodnight from him. Then he phoned Tom. Twenty minutes later his car was in Tom's drive and Mike was in his living room with a quadruple whisky and water. He poured out the whole conversation as well as he could remember it and Tom listened. When Mike finished Tom sat back and thought. That was what Mike always had liked about him; he never jumped in with an instant response, but always thought it through first. At length Tom spoke. "Tell me about the previous weeks, I mean with Claire." It was Mike's turn to think. "Take your time, and try to tell me everything you can think of." Tom was not prodding; he really wanted to know everything. So Mike related everything he could remember and Tom once again sat in thought. "There's something not right about this," Tom said at last. "I can understand her feeling ugly and wondering whether you would still love her but this last reaction is strange." Another pause, during which he refilled Mike's glass. Mike would not be driving home. "Just remind me of your visits over the past few days. Trace everything from when you arrived in the car park." Tom said. Mike thought hard, and remembered the comment of the nurses on both occasions, and the comparable change in her attitude. "On both days a nurse commented that she had a lot of visitors," Mike said eventually. "Ah!" Tom said. "Who were the visitors?" "Don't know," Mike said resignedly. "I'd forgotten the comment by the time I reached her room both times. She had visitors at the previous hospital as well. She'd usually say who'd been." "Not these last times?" "No." "Perhaps not always before either?" "Don't know. Could well be." "Well, I think those visitors may hold the key to this volte-face of hers. Can you find out who they were?" "She doesn't want to see me," Mike said morosely. "Her older daughter?" "Yes!" Mike seized on the idea. "Siobhán could find out for us." "Good," Tom said. "Now I'll take you home." Chapter Eight Mike had arrived home at eleven, and the children including Siobhán were asleep. He told Jessica what had happened and her look of compassion instantly reduced him to tears. She held him, his nanny too for that moment. He did not sleep much that night and by early morning his sorrow had turned to anger and resentment. He rehearsed what he had done for Claire and her family and it made him even more angry. Eventually he fell asleep and woke about two hours later. He felt wretched. Was it the bereavement or the whisky? But the nausea and headache cooled his anger and stopped him from saying something to the children he would regret. He rang Rosemary and told her the news and she was silent and then practical. "Stay at home," she said. "It's mid-summer and work is light. Breathe deeply. Go for a walk on your own. Try to see it from her point of view. I think Tom's right; whoever visited her seems to have thoughtlessly built on her own feelings of ugliness and worthlessness. Reserve judgement, all is not lost, believe me on that Mike." She was right, he thought; it was not final. He could fight Claire on this but he would need to engage Siobhán and to do that she would have to know. He would have to tread carefully with her. He was so glad he'd phoned Rosemary. He left his room and went out into the cool of the early morning. After an hour's walk he did feel better. He realised that he ran his own business and he knew how to get what he wanted. He reminded himself of this and realised he would have to play a long game. Perhaps play dirty. Everyone but Siobhán was at the breakfast table. He got happy smiles and greetings and sat down to join them in some cereal and toast. He got a résumé of the day before, and made appropriate happy noises. Jessica had made a large pot of tea and he had several mugs. Jessica then took the children out for the morning, while he waited for Siobhán to surface, which she did half an hour later. She looked quite wide-awake as she munched some toast and drank her mug of tea. "What's up Dad?" she asked. How women knew something was up he didn't know. He thought he was emanating calm. "Finish your breakfast and join me in the study," he replied, "and I'll tell you." She shrugged and carried on eating. Mike left for the study to which she followed him five minutes later. "Sit down, Hen," he said indicating the chair opposite his. She looked surprised and then worried. He thought she had every reason to be. "Something has happened-" "It's not Mum is it? She's relapsed? Hurt?" "No. It has to do with Mum but she's well," he paused. There was no easy way to put it. "Something has happened which is going to shock and upset you, but I want you to promise me now you'll not act on this knowledge until I say you can. Can you give me that promise?" There must have been something in his tone of voice, for her worry seemed to increase. "Yes, Dad, I promise. Whatever it is." "Your Mother has decided to go back to your old house now that your father is in prison, and she's taking you all with her. She is not going to work for me any more and she doesn't want me to visit her in hospital any more." Siobhán's mouth dropped open. "But why?" "She's decided it wouldn't work out between us now she's lost her looks, and I suspect she feels unable to stay here where she was attacked so viciously." He tried to keep his anger out of it and only partially succeeded. "Oh!" she retorted angrily. "So she can't stand living here but she'll drag me back where I was attacked? Well, I feel unable to live there; I want to stay here with you!" "Well, Siobhán," he temporised, "you'll have to discuss that with your mother, but I can't see her allowing that." She thought for a moment and her face clouded. "But you love her!" He nodded. "But she doesn't love you?" she asked. "After all you've done for us?" "She says she does. She says that's why we have to part. She thinks I would stay with her out of pity or, what was it? duty to her, and that would destroy our relationship." "This is so stupid!" she grumbled. Then, "You just going to let her do that?" "I've not a lot of choice, but I've not given up. Tom has some ideas, and that's where you come in." "Are you going to tell Ginny and Ryan?" "No," he answered, his anger showing through. "This is all your mother's idea so she can tell them. I only told you because there's something you can do for me." "Anything, Dad," she asserted firmly. "Well, you'll have to use your brains and be a bit devious. I want you to find out from her who came to visit her since she was taken to hospital. I think someone's stupidly been putting ideas into her head. She mustn't suspect it's for me or she won't tell you." "Mm." She thought for a while. Then a smile crossed her face. "OK," she said. "And you can take a letter to her." "Fine!" She smiled but tears were starting in her eyes. "Dad, can I come and stay if Mum won't let me live here?" "This is your home Hen," he said. "Love you, Dad," she sobbed. "And I love you sweetheart," and the tears were coming in his eyes too. Then she stood up and stood looking at him. Then she scowled, turned and left the room. Mike turned to the computer and began the letter. It took a while and there were many alterations before it was as he wanted it. Then he printed it off and wrote it out again by hand. My Dearest Claire, Since I have no choice, I have to accept the decisions you have made, though you could not be more wrong in all your assumptions about me. You are making a huge mistake. I wish you would believe me about this. I am glad you did not get round to resigning formally from your work for me, as it means I can now terminate your employment, which puts in train a number of consequences which I list below. So this letter notifies you that I terminate your employment as of now. You no longer work for me. Since I am sacking you, you are entitled to compensation in accordance with the contract you have with me, which exceeds statuary compensation. You are entitled to three months salary. This will be paid monthly. You are also entitled to a redundancy payment equivalent to one year's salary which will be paid in a lump sum, and as such is, I believe, free of tax. You agreed to this and Victor has the agreement if you don't believe me. You may keep the car until the tax and insurance runs out in eight months' time. I will pay your removal costs, which I assess at five hundred pounds. I trust this will meet with your agreement. Any debts you think you owe me from the early days are, according to contract now cancelled. Please keep your personal current account open as any moneys will be paid into it. Since you began your hospital treatment while in my employment, that will continue to be funded until you decide you no longer need treatment. I urge you to follow the treatment until the doctors say there is nothing they can do further. The same applies to Jessica. She will stay with you until your leg heals properly. You must decide whether you wish me to remain the children's legal guardian and your next-of-kin. I am prepared to remain as such. As I am their guardian at this moment, I am setting up a trust fund for them for their education. This will be sufficient to pay off any university debts they may incur and leave them a reasonable sum to set them up afterwards. Even if you decide to cease all connection with me as it seems you have, this trust will stand. There is nothing you can do about it; when it matures it will go directly to them. They will be legally adults and may do with it as they please. Finally I'm telling you that I love you, not your face, or your body, but you. As to your wishes that l not contact you again, those I cannot accept, I love you too much for that. I hope you will eventually see sense and come back to me. I warn you I am going to do everything in my power to bring that about. It saddens me to say goodbye. All my love Mike. Yes, he wanted her to feel as guilty as hell. He wanted her to smart at her selfishness. He hoped the kids would give her hell and perhaps it would bring her back. It was calculated and did not in the slightest reflect his feelings. At that precise time he wanted to get her back. It was totally selfish and born of anger and resentment. The younger children came home for lunch and were full of the exploits of the morning. He watched Siobhán who looked preoccupied but she said nothing to them. In the afternoon they all went off to visit Claire and Mike went back to Tom's to collect his car. He was in his study when he heard the sound of the family arriving. They were subdued. Jessica came in to see him. "I've just had the worst day of my life," she said. She was a very placid woman but she was seething. "How could she do this to her family?" He sat and nodded and listened as she told him the story of the tears and tantrums when Claire told them they were leaving the next day. The arguments and the language! She said that Siobhán had kept quiet, and when Jessica took the two younger children out she stayed behind. When they returned Claire was in sombre mood and Siobhán looked mutinous. "You need to talk to the children," Jessica said. "It's really tearing them up." He sighed a deep sigh and asked her to send them in to him. "It's just not fair!" exclaimed Ginny as the pair of them settled into one of the armchairs, Ginny's arm round Ryan. Mike was still at his desk though turned away from it on his office chair. "Can't we stay here with you?" "You know that's not possible, Ginny," he said. Best to get false hopes dashed early. Ryan began to cry, "I like it here with you," he sniffed. "I hate that house. It smells." "Look," Mike said, "your mother has promised me that you can come and visit me. You'll probably be able to stay for whole weekends. I'm not going to let you go easily you know. But you need your mother and she needs you." "But how will you manage without Mum?" asked Ginny, ever practical. "Well, I managed for four years before you lot arrived. I can manage again." "And you won't have us under your feet." She smiled for the first time. "I love having you under my feet and I'll miss you, but things have a habit of turning out for the best. Be good to your Mum, she loves you so much and she's fought for you more often than you know." "I know Daddy used to hit her," said Ryan, "and she brought us here." "Mike brought us here," corrected Ginny. "Your Mum took you away from danger," Mike corrected the correction. "And God sent you because Mum was so good," said Ryan. He did not need to say anything. Being a Divine emissary was good enough for him! "What about school?" asked Ginny, "I like it here." "Me too!" echoed Ryan. "Talk to your mother about that. She's got the car, so she could bring you to school here. Perhaps you could come here after school and she could pick you up from here. You need to ask her." That mollified them and they went away, if not happy, less unhappy and with something to plan for. No sooner had they left than Siobhán came into the study. Not Just for Christmas Ch. 07-09 "You cheered them up," she said with a resigned air; she sounded ten years older than she was. "How did things go?" he asked. "You know how stubborn Mum is," she smiled, almost in spite of herself, "but it is really weird. She didn't read your letter just put it away. I asked her why she had gone off you, and she said she hadn't but it wasn't fair on you. Just like you said. I told her she was wrong but she wouldn't have it. "So I changed the subject and asked if she'd had many visitors. She was so relieved I'd changed the subject she rabbited on about who came and what they said. She was surprised that some of your friends came to see her. I wrote their names down and who came with whom after I came away." She smiled broadly at the success of her mission. He realised that the girl had a prodigious memory. "Well done!" he said. "That'll help us a lot." "I don't get what you'll use them for." "Neither do I at the moment. Tom has ideas, and I'm sure all will be revealed in time. Anything else?" "I said for her to read your letter, in case you needed a reply." "And?" "Well, she wasn't going to but then she changed her mind. She read it. I think she wanted to cry at some of it. She just said you're a good man." She smiled at him. "I told her I knew that already." "Is she going to reply to it?" "Don't know. She didn't say." -- Mike brought Tom the results of Siobhán's clever eliciting from Claire the names of the people who visited her. They went over it together. They dismissed Jessica, and Julie-from-next door: they were obviously friends of Mike as well. "Let's see," Tom said. "Hey, what are Sharon and Tracy doing visiting Claire? She doesn't know them." "Sharon met Claire the Saturday before the attack. We were in the club that night and she came over. She told Claire I wouldn't sleep with Bryony because of Claire." "You have fucked Tracy though," Tom said. "A long time ago, after the divorce, but she wasn't there with Sharon that night at the club." "How did they know Claire was there in hospital?" "Come on, Tom!" Mike said. "We were all over the papers and the local news." "OK," he agreed. "Who are these two? What does 'next door' mean?" These were a married couple that Siobhán had described on the list as 'Next Door'. "Claire's next door neighbours." Mike told him. "These?" Tom asked, pointing to a list of about seven names. "Friends from College." Mike said. "I recognise Laura's name. She came to see me once. They all seemed to come and see her. Nice people, but I notice the bloke who nearly raped Claire didn't turn up." The next name was Dylan Johnson. "Didn't you lend him money about five years ago?" Tom asked. "150,000." Mike answered. "He's still paying me back, very slowly." It was supposed to be a short-term loan. Cheryl had gone on and on at Mike to lend it to him, it was a cash flow problem with his small photography company. Mike charged him interest at the rate of inflation. Five years later he still owed him 80,000. At the time he borrowed it, Mike was beginning to suspect Cheryl was playing away, and he thought Dylan was one of the players. He could never prove it though and had no interest in trying. "So what's Dylan doing visiting Claire?" Tom asked, intrigued. "Siobhán said he came with Tracy," Mike answered. "So she came to see Claire twice?" Tom noticed. "Seems so." said Mike "But why?" Tom said thoughtfully. "She didn't know Claire." "Siobhán said Sharon and Tracy told Claire they'd come to see me and decided on the spur of the moment to call in on Claire, but I never saw them. Perhaps I'd already been discharged. Perhaps Tracy was just being kind, she's a nice woman." Then Tom exclaimed in surprise, "Oh I don't believe this, Bob French?" "Says here he came with Tracy and Dylan, they were all going on to a party. This is weird. Why are all these other people we know and Claire doesn't, coming to see her?" "I can't see Bob French putting himself out for a woman he couldn't shag," said Tom. "That's all he ever thinks about. Bloody layabout. I know at least three married women he's doing during the day." "It's said that he's got a big prick," Mike suggested with a naughty grin. "And girls say size isn't important!" Tom said and they both laughed. "Mike," Tom said decisively. "I don't buy this. We need to talk to Tracy about it. Fancy going clubbing on Friday night? Meet a few more of these altruistic people who visit strangers in hospital and put them off their boyfriends?" Mike laughed, then thought for a moment. The children would be gone the next day. He would be free to go the day after and could probably do with cheering up. Tom had already begun the cheering up process. "OK," Mike said. "The kids are going back to Claire's tomorrow. I'll be free." It was Mike's last evening with the children. So he left Tom, having arranged to meet him at 'their' club the next evening for a meal. Then they would see if they could find any of the hospital visitors. The last night with the children was fun. He determined that there would be no time for tears. They played rowdy board games with a lot of laughter. The children jumped on him and they had tickling games. Jessica laughed but kept well clear. Finally the two younger ones were off to bed and they read a bed-time story together. It had been a practice of Mike's to buy three or four copies of a simple story book and then they would read the story taking the parts of the characters, each of them taking on more parts as characters appeared in the story. It had had a dramatic effect on Ryan's reading and caused much laughter, as they would often fail to pick up on their cues or read each other's lines, but everyone read and enjoyed it. Once they were abed and asleep, Jessica, Siobhán and Mike put all their things together, though Mike kept back some books for when they came to visit. Everything was packed, and they laid out the children's clothes for the next day. Toiletries were left until they had washed in the morning. As Siobhán was hugging him goodnight she asked, "Can I come back Saturday and stay till Sunday?" "If your mother doesn't mind, yes of course." "She won't," said the teenager meaningfully. Next morning, the atmosphere was charged. Mike was ready for work as the children came down to breakfast and that included Siobhán surprisingly, who, being a true teenager usually slept in during the holidays. He promised to come back as soon as Claire was ready to arrive at her house and wanted the children to join her. Jessica would load the car with their luggage and Rosemary would drive the children there in his car. He got a full day's work done by two o'clock and at three thirty the call came. So Rosemary and Mike went back to the house. They hugged and kissed their goodbyes, and he repeated his promise to have them over as often as they wanted and their mother allowed. Then they left, waving to him from the car, their faces looking back at him until the car disappeared. When Rosemary returned she looked grim. "What's up?" he asked. "Any problems?" "Oh, no," she said, "I asked her why she was messing everyone up and she said it was in your best interests. I told her she was being patronising and was being a bloody fool. Then I left." He sighed. Rosemary was always direct but it didn't always help. She was in a rush to get home. The evening was quiet, eerily so. Before Christmas he didn't feel lonely in the house but now he felt it with a vengeance. He left the house and went for a long drive to a local beauty spot where he parked and looked out over the countryside. Birds were singing, he could hear sheep bleating and cows lowing. The sky was blue and the air still. To his right the red sun was sinking towards the horizon. All this would be here long after he was gone and was here long before he was born, he thought. He was a very small part of this universe. That didn't really help; he still felt a deep sense of loss and he resolved again that he would not relinquish this fight. He would not let her go without a struggle. He had a few whiskies when he got home and went to bed early only to be woken by his mobile phone. "Dad?" "Hello Siobhán." "Mum says I can come on Saturday and stay till Sunday night if you bring me home." "That's good. I'll look forward to that." "Love you Dad." "Love you too Siobhán." Chapter Nine On Friday night Mike took a taxi as he always did when clubbing in Manchester. One never knows how much drink will be consumed or where one will end up. Especially that night. After the meal, the first person they saw was Bryony and she saw them. "Hi!" she greeted them, "Good to see you back to normal Mike. How are things with the love of your life?" "I wouldn't know," he replied. "She's left and taken the family with her." "Sorry?" "She's left me." "Left you? But you were getting back together." "Bryony, you're talking riddles. Claire's left me and taken her family back to her ex-husband's house." Long silence. Then, "Oh, Fuck!" "Problem?" Tom asked. "Mike, I'm soo sorry!" she said disconsolately, "I always thought you were talking about your Cheryl." "What?" Mike was astounded. "It never crossed my mind you were 'with' Claire," she hastened to add. "Oh, Mike, when you were in hospital I was out on the town with Sharon and Tracy." She stopped. He nodded, "Go on!" "I told them about our night together and you loving someone else and I told them it was Cheryl! I never thought you were with Claire! "Tracy and Sharon came visiting you but you'd been released. So they visited Claire as just your housekeeper. Tracy said she was telling her about whether she'd be still living in when you and your ex. got back together. No wonder she looked puzzled." "She told her we were getting together? Cheryl and me? Why would you think that for fuck's sake?" "Tracy was telling me and Sharon. She said your ex., Cheryl, and you were talking about getting together again. She didn't think Claire's family would go down well with Cheryl." "But there's no chance of Cheryl and me getting together. We've not talked since she came to the house a while back and I threw her out. Where did Tracy get that from?" "I don't know," she replied, looking very uncomfortable, "but apparently she said to Claire, 'Didn't you know? Well don't tell Mike you know, I'm sure he'll tell you in time. Probably wants to be sure.' Sharon said she felt uncomfortable, because Claire looked upset." "I'm not fucking surprised!" Mike said angrily. She paused, looking embarrassed. "Sharon said that that when they were going out of the hospital Tracy said something like, 'Silly cow, thought she had a chance with him,' and she laughed." Another pause, she looked horrified. "Mike I'm so sorry!" She was almost in tears. "I really didn't realise Claire was the one you wanted." The normally effervescent and carefree Bryony embraced him and kissed him. He smiled. "Don't worry, Bryony," he said. "You weren't to know." They hugged again and she walked off, no spring in her step or wiggle to her hips. Tom had kept very quiet throughout. Now he spoke. "Tracy's not here, and I can't see any of the others we want to talk to. Let's have a couple of drinks and go." Which they did. In fact the couple of drinks turned into five or six, and when they ended at Tom's place they took to the whisky. They rambled round the topic of Claire but got nowhere. They knew they needed to talk to Tracy. Next day Mike awoke early with a headache, and roused Tom, who drove him in the silence of a joint hangover to the house. Siobhán arrived and settled herself in her room to do some holiday schoolwork. Mike took her out for lunch. She wanted to know what Tom and he had done but he put her off until they had more information. She did not like it but accepted it. In the afternoon he took her shopping, or rather she went shopping and he paid. Then they took in a film in the evening. He left her to sleep on Sunday morning and was downstairs, showered and dressed by nine. He walked to the newsagent, bought a paper and returned. He made coffee and baked some frozen croissants and ate and drank while reading the paper. He was still reading at eleven when the doorbell rang. He opened it and to his surprise there stood Cheryl. This time she did not give the cheery greeting she had used last time, but stood looking anxious. "Cheryl!" he said. "What are you doing here? Sunday morning at eleven? When were you ever up before lunchtime on Sunday?" She gave a self-conscious half-smile. "Mike," she said, becoming solemn, "I was stupid last time. Can we talk? Now you're alone again?" He was about to tell her about Siobhán, but for some reason decided not to. "I can't see any point in it but if you insist." "I'm in no position to insist on anything," she said. She actually sounded contrite. "OK." He stood back and she entered and stood waiting. "How about the living room and I'll make some more coffee?" He gestured to the room and she smiled and went in. She was dressed demurely in a summer blouse, skirt and sandals. The material was opaque so he had no idea what lay beneath, nor did he want to know. While he made the coffee she wandered round the living room, touching the things they had bought together, picking things up and putting them down again. He brought in the coffee. She sat down on the sofa. He detected an invitation which he refused, and sat in his armchair instead, pouring the coffee and adding milk and sugar as he knew she liked it. "You remembered," she said with a smile. "We did live together for four years you know," he said and couldn't stop a small smile. She smiled back. "So, Cheryl, what do you want to talk about?" he asked. It was obvious she had rehearsed the speech, probably even refined it complete with pauses and appropriate glances and even the odd pout. Sometimes a pout has the opposite effect from that intended. "Mike, my darling," she began; he let the term of affection go. "I've been a fool. So stupid. I was immature and selfish and thought our life together was boring. I was so wrong. Those four years were the best in my life. "Gordon seemed so lively and dynamic, a real risk taker, but once he and I were together life was even less exciting than when we were together, if you see what I mean. He did nothing round the house; I was just his maid and bed-mate. He was good in bed, but he didn't love me like you did. We had sex; we had lots of sex. As I say, he was very good, but it was sort of empty. "My problem was that I was trapped. I'd divorced you and I heard you were having a great time playing the field; I knew some of the girls you had, and they would tell me what a fool I'd been to dump you. You were out on the town every weekend. I was so jealous. I knew what I'd lost. "Then Gordon did one dodgy deal too many and lost everything. He threw me out. I took the jewellery he bought me and sold it; it kept me going for a while. I got a small flat and then I got this job at the Echo. At least I was able to party again, but Mike darling, it didn't do it for me any more. "My love," she shot a glance at him to see his reaction to the word, "I realised that it was you I needed. I understood what we had in those years. So I had the silly idea that I could just waltz back into your life. You were right to throw me out. I got a shock to see you there with that housekeeper of yours and her kids, and you had a nice ready-made family so I hadn't a chance. "But now... Well, they've gone and you are alone again. She's walked out on you, even after you did so much for her. If you hadn't rushed to her she'd be dead, and you risked your life for that daughter of hers. And she still walked out." Again she searched his face for a reaction. He did not give her the satisfaction though he felt deep anger, but was it at Claire or at this conniving woman? That he did not know. "I promise you, Mike," she went on. "If you'll give me another chance I'll never walk out on you again. This time it really will be for life. Please, Mike, could you find it in your heart to forgive me and give me a chance? I'll show you how good it can be. We had good times together and you know our lovemaking was out of this world. Let me show you all that love again." He remembered the wheedling tone of her voice whenever she wanted something in their marriage. Here it was again and it put him right off, but she hadn't quite finished and her voice took on a note of desperation. "Now I know what I had in you, I'll show you that every day. Just a trial, a few weeks just to see if it would work? I can be so good for you. Please?" He was dumbfounded. Silenced. He stared at this woman who was twisting and twining her fingers together, her eyes begging him. He was sorry for her. She was unhappy and he didn't like to see unhappy people. But trust her? He didn't think so; in fact he knew he could never trust her. He wondered if she had some sort of plan. He had that feeling he got when someone was trying to finalise a contract and thought they'd put one over on him. If she did have a plan, and if it succeeded he didn't think he would figure in her life at all. He reacted as he did in business deals with dodgy salesmen: play along and see where it leads, get more information. He had a sudden flash of memory. "Cheryl," he began, choosing his words carefully. "You will understand that any trust I had in you has gone. You can't blame me for that, can you? I'll ask you a question, maybe two. First. Were you ever unfaithful to me while we were married? If so, how many men and who were they? Second. Did you know Claire and her family were here before you arrived that day? Be very careful with your answers." Ever since she arrived, she had that air he knew so well, that she'd get her own way in the end, but now she was rattled. It was a naughty pleasure on his part to see her scrabbling round for the 'right' answer. Eventually it came and he then knew she had a game plan for sure. "Yes," she said penitently, "I did have an affair, but only the once and it was with Gordon just before I left you. But you guessed that or you wouldn't have tested me on it." Again she searched his face to see if he believed her, but he was used to keeping a poker face in business and it came in useful here. He suspected she had regular flings and now he would try to find out from other sources. "As to the second," she continued hurriedly, "Yes, it came as a real surprise to see your housekeeper and her family." Oh no, dear Cheryl, he thought, You don't get away with that one. You didn't answer the question. Once again his face did not betray any reaction. In fact he believed it was a half-truth, she might have found out, being a reporter but still have been surprised by the reality of them in 'her' house. "When you left me," he said, "I didn't commit to anyone. I had no strings one-night-stand sex with any woman who was willing. Relief of sexual tension, that was all it was. It's taken five years to commit to anyone else and that commitment was to Claire." He saw a flash of satisfaction cross her face; she hadn't been sure that they had been an item. Now she was. "So what I'm saying," he continued rapidly, "is that the first time I committed to anyone, it was to you, and you let me down. Now Claire has done the same and it hurts. So I'm in no hurry commit to anyone again." There was an immediate look of disappointment. She had banked on his falling for her obvious charms, and sexually she had them in spades. They had had some mind-blowing sex when they were together, and he thought she banked on that memory to reel him in. Her shoulders sagged. Not Just for Christmas Ch. 07-09 "Have I a chance?" she asked plaintively. "No," he said. "You left me because you were bored. That was really the finish between us, Cheryl. Claire on the other hand has some notion that I only want her out of duty now she is disfigured. She's set me free out of love. If I end up with anyone it'll be with her. "Go and find some rich bloke and work your charm on him. Get on with your life." Further talk between them ended because Siobhán came into the room and stopped short. There was a long silence as the two females stared at each other. "I thought..." started Cheryl and stopped. "Claire might have left but I am the children's guardian in the absence of their father. Siobhán is my ward and she's come to visit for the weekend." "I'd better be going," Cheryl said, and he could not read her expression. She stood; he stood. She came to him and hugged him while he held her by the arms. Then without a second glance at Siobhán she left. Siobhán was staring at him, accusation in her eyes. "So what Mum heard was right," she shouted. "You're going back to that woman; you're talking about getting together." "What gives you that idea?" "The two of you've been talking for ages," she was still shouting. "I heard your voices." "Sit down and stop shouting at me!" he hissed. She looked shocked and sat on the sofa, where Cheryl had been sitting. "What did you hear?" "I didn't hear what you were saying. I just heard your voices upstairs." "She came to ask me to take her back now that your mother has left me. I just told her it would never happen." Silence. Then, "Sorry Dad." "You're forgiven, but you're as bad as your mother for jumping to the wrong conclusions." The day passed quickly and before long he was drawing up at Claire's house. Siobhán hugged and kissed him and got out. He waited until she opened the front door and went inside, and then drove away. There was no sign of Claire, though the curtains twitched. -- On Monday, Victor rang Mike to tell him that it was the day of Claire's Decree Absolute. He had deferred the application because of her injuries. So Mike phoned the house from work to congratulate her but got the answer phone. He gave the message anyway, with a plea to ring him back. There was no response. The folk at the Home were upset at his troubles: they had been hoping for a wedding. At least that is what Gloria was telling him. She was thirty-eight years old and had the mind of a child of seven. He thought she had her sights on being a bridesmaid. On Thursday he got a phone call from Ginny asking if Ryan and she could come for the day on Saturday. He was delighted and told them he would pick them up and bring them home again. On Friday night he went out with Tom again. They saw Tracy briefly, but when she saw them she disappeared. They searched but could not find her. They saw no one else that they knew. On Saturday he picked the children up at ten and they had a good day together, simple things that divorced Dads do with their children: the park, a meal at a trashy restaurant, board games and TV, then back home again at eight. They told him that Claire got his message, muttered something they couldn't hear and deleted it. They also told him they were staying on at the school but Claire insisted on taking them and picking them up each day. He wondered if she was avoiding any occasion when he might actually meet her. So a routine was established, meaning that Siobhán came one weekend and the children for a day on the alternate one, broken only by a trip he had to take to Germany to sort out a contract, when he was away for a couple of weeks. He didn't really need to be absent that long but felt the need for a break. He came back feeling a lot better though he was still homesick for Claire and the children. Work was hectic, and he had no time to follow up on the people who visited Claire in hospital. Claire took the children on holiday for a few days just before they went back to school. It hit Mike hard. He had longed for a family holiday before the 'trouble' and now he suffered a further exclusion from the family he had come to see as his own. This is not to say he had cut himself off from Claire though she had from him. He sent regular emails assuring her he still loved her and wanted her to change her mind. He got no replies; no reaction. He would ask the children how their Mum was, and they gave non-committal replies, she was well. Siobhán was more forthcoming. Claire was well but quiet and did not seem to be very happy. She never went out in the evenings. Apparently the children kept on at her to contact Mike early on, but eventually she told them to stop nagging her; there would be no going back. It was for the best. So they were forbidden from mentioning the matter again.