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Even with so many awful things going on, he had so much to be grateful for, most especially this wonderful woman. God bless you, Mrs Cotteridge, he thought as he leaned in and gave Hope a quick kiss. When he pulled back, he held her gaze. ‘I know this is the worst timing in the world, but I need you to know that I love you too.’
‘You do?’ Hope’s golden sunshine laugh filled the air. ‘Oh, Cam, I think you have the best timing in the world.’ She flung her arms around his neck and he let himself be swept away on a kiss so right, he knew he wanted to kiss her like that forever. When they broke for air, Hope gave him a puzzled look. ‘What did you mean when you said I love you too? I’ve never said it to you.’
‘Yes, you did. When you drove away this morning.’ God, was it really only that morning? It felt like a lifetime ago.
‘Did I? I certainly didn’t mean to.’ Her wonderful laughter filled the air again. ‘Oh, don’t look at me like that!’ She cupped his face in her hands. ‘I love you, okay? I love you, I love you, I love you!’
The only way he could stop her from saying it was to seal her mouth with another kiss.
EPILOGUE
Amelia parked her car in front of the cottage and grabbed her handbag from the seat. She locked the car more out of habit rather than any fear someone would steal it. Stourton-in-the-Vale wasn’t exactly a hotbed of crime, and nobody would be desperate enough to steal a clapped-out old Fiesta with nearly 120,000 miles on the clock. It was getting to the point where it might end up costing more to get it through an MOT than to buy a replacement. She shook her head. Who was she kidding? If the Fiesta broke down, she’d be going to work on the bus.
She hooked her bag on her shoulder, trying to ignore the nagging weight of the phone inside it. She’d had several missed calls while she’d been in the office. One from Hope and another from Rhys. Amelia leaned against her car and closed her eyes. She loved her friends, she really did, but she didn’t want to talk to anyone tonight. All she wanted was to slip into a hot bath and crawl under her duvet for an early night. She was beyond exhausted, the kind of tired where she didn’t even have the energy to eat, even though she knew she needed to keep her strength up. She couldn’t afford to get ill. With all the bloody debt her father had saddled them with, she literally couldn’t afford it.
Beans on toast would keep her going. She could skip the bath and take them straight up to her room and eat sitting cross-legged on her bed. At least then she wouldn’t have to face her mother’s constant sighing and worrying over that deadbeat she still wanted to call her husband. It was almost too much effort to push herself upright from the car, but she couldn’t stand out in the street all night. The curtains were probably already twitching across the road. That was enough to get her moving.
Heading up the path, Amelia rummaged through her bag for her keys, before remembering they were still in her hand. God, she really needed a decent night’s sleep. Raising her key towards the door, Amelia spotted the sliver of light shining past the edge and frowned. Had her mum heard her and already opened the door? Thinking that must be it, Amelia pushed it open and put on the brightest voice she could muster. ‘Mum? I’m home. Sorry I’m a bit late, but the traffic was a nightmare.’
Silence.
‘Mum?’ Amelia chucked her bag on the sofa in the empty living room and walked back through the little house towards the kitchen. Maybe she was in bed? The doctor had warned Daisy to rest, but she wasn’t very good at taking it easy, knowing how much of a burden her illness was on top of everything else. ‘Mum?’ she called again, louder this time.
‘In here.’ The words were hard to make out and Amelia clenched her jaw. Oh, God, she couldn’t be crying again over that useless bastard, could she? It was the last thing Amelia needed to deal with.
‘Come on, Mum,’ she said, pushing open the kitchen door. ‘He’s not—’ Amelia’s words froze in her throat as she took in the scene. Her mother was crouched on the kitchen floor, half-sobbing, half-wheezing, the front of her T-shirt covered in blood.
Daisy Riley raised her eyes from the man sprawled on the floor beside her. ‘I can’t get the bleeding to stop. He won’t let me call an ambulance.’ She was clutching a tea towel as red as the front of her shirt, which was wrapped around Amelia’s father’s arm.
‘No ambulance, I’ll be fine.’ The words were slurred. No doubt he was drunk again.
‘You can bleed to bloody death for all I care!’ Amelia snapped. ‘What the hell happened? Why aren’t you at the clinic?’
‘Stuck up bastards,’ Keith mumbled. ‘Tryinatellmewhadado. I bloody showed ’em.’ His eyelids flickered and then his head dropped back to the floor with a thud.
‘Dad? Dad!’ Oh, God, maybe he did need an ambulance! Amelia turned on her heel and ran back into the living room to find her phone, almost bumping into Rhys. What was he doing here? And why was he looking at her with those big puppy dog eyes full of sympathy? Could this day get any bloody worse?
‘Get out of the way, I need to get my phone. Dad’s had an accident.’
Rhys’s expression turned from one of concern to one of anger. ‘He’s here?’
‘Yes!’ Amelia grabbed her bag and snatched up her phone. ‘He’s in the kitchen with Mum. Where are you going?’ She blew out a breath. There was no point in talking to his brick wall of back. Jabbing at her phone, she dialled 999.
‘Ambulance service. Is the patient breathing?’
The question startled Amelia. ‘Yes. I think so. He was a moment ago. Sorry, it’s my father, he’s cut his arm badly and there’s a lot of blood. I think he’s lost consciousness.’ What if he really was hurt? Was he going to die? Amelia might have wished him gone a thousand times, but the reality of it almost took her knees out from under her.
The operator’s calm voice filtered through her panic. ‘I’ve got an address in Stourton-in-the-Vale, is that current?’
‘Yes,’ Amelia managed to get out. ‘Primrose Cottage. We’re almost opposite the church.’
‘That’s useful information, thank you. Help is being arranged. Is the patient there with you? Can you check for a pulse, please?’
‘He’s in the kitchen, hang on.’ Amelia ran through the door to find Rhys on his knees beside her father. He’d taken over from her mother, who was curled up in the corner, still coughing and crying. Amelia needed to get her to bed before they had two emergencies to deal with, but she needed to address the most immediate problem first.
The bloody tea towel was on the floor beside Rhys and he’d grabbed a clean one from the drawer – because of course he knew where everything was kept – and was pressing it hard against her father’s forearm, which he was now holding up in the air. ‘Is he breathing? The operator needs to know.’
Rhys glanced up at her through his thick fringe and nodded. ‘Yes. Tell her the wound is about six inches long and very deep. I’ve got pressure on it and it’s elevated. It’ll need flushing out because he did it on one of our fences so there’s a high chance of infection.’
