Holding her easily, he waited while Ally locked the door of the barn and followed her to the car. Ally stopped dead as she saw a brand new BMW parked next to her old Fiesta.
‘What’s that?’
Sean grinned. ‘Your carriage, Cinderella. Let’s just say I decided that a motorbike and a semi-rural GP practice in the middle of winter don’t really go together.’
‘It’s fabulous.’ Ally climbed inside and fingered the upholstery with awe. ‘You lucky thing.’
‘Surely you could afford a decent car if you wanted one?’ Sean frowned across at her as he fastened his seat belt. ‘I can’t understand why you struggle so much financially. You must earn a reasonable salary.’
Ally’s jaw set as she stared out of the window. She did. A very reasonable salary. But she also had debts. Debts she didn’t want to explain to him.
‘We’re going to be late, Sean,’ she said pointedly, and he stared at her for a moment and then gave a little shrug.
‘None of my business. Fine.’
He released the handbrake and they drove to the park where the fireworks were being held.
There was a huge crowd there already and Charlie gasped when she saw the size of the bonfire.
‘Oh, Mum, look! Can I go closer—please?’
Ally hesitated, naturally protective. ‘Well, I don’t know. You have to be careful, sweetheart—’
‘I’ll take her,’ Sean said easily, swinging the little girl onto his shoulders and pacing across the field. Ally watched them go, trying to work out why she felt so anxious. Was it really because of the fire or was it because Sean was striking up such a good relationship with Charlie? Was this just another of his ploys to get close to her? Shaking off her worries, she made her way to the refreshment tent, smiling at people she knew and queuing up for some coffee. There was a slight commotion in the crowd of people just outside the tent and, peering out, she recognised Mary Thompson’s husband, laughing loudly—too loudly. His wife was hovering anxiously at his elbow. Was he drunk?
Forgetting about the coffee, she pushed her way back outside. At first there were no signs of the Thompsons and then she heard raised voices and saw them on the edge of the field under some trees, obviously arguing. Geoff Thompson was shouting at his wife aggressively, and as she watched he raised his arm and hit Mary so hard that she staggered.
With a cry of outrage Ally sprinted across to them, giving no thought to what would happen when she got there. She just knew she had to stop him. As she ran up she saw that Mr Thompson was indeed very, very drunk.
‘Just leave me alone and stop nagging, you stupid woman!’ He rocked slightly on his feet and turned his head, bleary-eyed, as he noticed Ally for the first time. ‘Wha’ do you want?’
‘Oh, Dr McGuire!’ Mary covered her mouth with a hand to keep back the sobs which were shaking her body. Blood was pouring from a nasty cut on her head. ‘Go away, please.’
‘He hit you, Mary.’ Ally’s voice was controlled but her blood was boiling.
‘And I’ll hit you if you don’t keep your nose out of it.’ Mr Thompson stepped towards her, grabbing Ally by the jacket and giving her a rough push. She kept her balance—just—but now she was really angry.
‘I don’t advise it, Mr Thompson,’ she said coldly, turning her attention back to Mary. ‘I need to have a look at that cut, Mary.’
‘I said keep your nose out of it! Come any closer and you’ll have more than a cut to worry about,’ Mr Thompson growled, and stepped towards her again, his fists raised.
‘Lay one finger on her and you won’t be walking for a month.’ The icy words came from behind her and Ally felt a surge of relief as she heard Sean’s voice. ‘Ally, get Mrs Thompson to the first-aid tent. I’ll see you there in a minute.’
Without arguing, Ally slipped an arm round the woman’s shoulders and glanced at Sean. There was something menacing about the hard set of his jaw and the glint in his eyes. Mr Thompson obviously thought so, too, because he started to bluster about it all being a big mistake.
‘Sean, where’s Charlie?’
He didn’t turn. ‘With Jack.’
Of course. She should have known he wouldn’t bring her daughter into danger. She hurried Mary towards the tent and settled her in a chair. One of the St John’s Ambulance crew came across and offered sympathy while Ally assessed the damage. Fortunately the cut was fairly superficial.
‘This looks much worse than it is, Mary. Scalps always bleed a lot, but it doesn’t need stitches. I’ll just put some paper strips across it but you’re going to have a glorious black eye.’