The Elephant Girl(131)

‘No, I don’t suppose you are.’

‘I told you once to stay away from him, quite rudely I recall.’

‘Yes, I remember. Twenty-six bones in the foot, blah blah blah. Don’t you think it’s about time you let him live his own life? Make his own decisions about who he wants to be with and what he wants to do? If Jason decides he doesn’t want to be with me, fair enough, I’ll give him up, but I won’t do it on your say-so.’

Calmly, Moody assessed her. Then he leaned forward, fast as a snake, and hissed into her ear.

‘And what about your epilepsy? That taint is in your blood. You want my grandchildren to be freaks like you?’

Helen flinched. ‘I don’t think it’s hereditary. Even if it is, having epilepsy is not the end of the world. I should know.’

Changing tactics, Moody straightened up and regarded her from beneath hooded eyelids. ‘Your mother died horribly. So did your aunt, and your friend probably will too. It’s clear people get hurt around you. If it hadn’t been for you, your clever friend wouldn’t be fighting for her life right now. All that promise wouldn’t be joining the dodos.’

He was laying it on thick, theatrically so, yet every single word, sharp as a needle, found its way under her skin, crept up under her hairline, sent her scalp tingling. Her face stung from the truth.

Her mother had died because she’d been too young to understand what was going on and to call for help, Charlie might too, because Helen couldn’t forget the past and just get on with her life. She knew the horror would stay with her, the shocking ease with which a person could be written out of the script. All it took was a cheap screwdriver and some unprotected flesh. And Letitia had died for the same reasons.

Despite all the disastrous mistakes she’d made since her return, she’d learned one thing: family was important. Could she really spend the rest of her life with a man whose father she wasn’t sure she could ever forgive for his small part in her mother’s death? And would Jason come to resent her for his own divided loyalties?

She looked away, didn’t want to see the triumph in Moody’s eyes, because he knew as she did, that she couldn’t argue with what he’d just said. People did get hurt around her. Her shoulders slumped as a sigh escaped her.

Moody looked at her for a moment longer, then nodded sombrely and left. There was nothing more to say, and they both knew it.

The nurse finished tying Jason’s arm up in a foam-padded sling, then handed him a glass of water and a couple of strong painkillers.

‘Are you sure I can’t give you a sedative? Your body’s been through quite a trauma.’

‘I prefer to go without. Want to stay focused.’ Especially now my father is sticking his oar in, he thought. She followed his eyes to the door and nodded sympathetically.

‘Well, if you’re sure.’

Jason thanked her and stepped out into the general A&E department. A number of beds had been sectioned off by curtains, but he could hear voices and the occasional groan or muffled cry coming from behind them.

There was no sign of Helen. Disappointment tore through him, followed by a mixture of gratitude and irritation as his father came towards him with a polystyrene cup in his hand.

‘It’s probably muck but you look like you need a cup of tea. If I’d got here earlier, I’d have made sure you were taken to a private clinic, not left you with’—he flung out his arm in a general direction—‘this rabble.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Jason took the cup. ‘Where’s Helen?’

‘She went home.’

‘Just like that? I don’t believe you. Look, if you as much as—’

‘Don’t be dramatic. We had a chat, she went home.’

‘What did you say to her?’

Derek shrugged. ‘The truth. That you got shot because of her. That it was her fault your friend might die.’

Threatening to crush the delicate cup, Jason’s hand tightened around it to stop himself from flinging the contents in his father’s face. Derek was his dad after all. Instead he put it down on an empty surgical trolley.

‘I need a lift,’ he said.

‘Jason, listen to me—’

‘Now! Or I’ll never speak to you again!’

Derek’s mouth tightened and he tried to stare Jason down, but Jason met his gaze full on and didn’t give so much as an inch. Finally, his dad shook his head and turned to head for the exit. As they climbed into the back of the waiting car, his dad grumbled, ‘I didn’t spend a fortune on your education for you to throw yourself away on a girl with an incurable illness.’