Читать книгу A Christmas Knight - Kate Hardy - Страница 7

‘WHAT happened?’ Louisa asked.

Mrs Livesey was ashen with worry, cradling her two-year-old son. ‘It’s all my fault. The children were playing nicely and I was chatting to my friend over coffee—I should’ve been watching them more closely. Julian slipped and cut his head open on the piano. I put a cold wet cloth on it to try and stop the bleeding, but it wouldn’t stop, so I brought him here.’

‘That was the best thing to do,’ Louisa reassured her. ‘Scalp wounds always bleed a lot, so they often look worse than they are. Has Julian been sick at all, or had any kind of fit?’

‘No.’

‘Did he black out, or has he been drowsy since?’

Mrs Livesey shook her head.

‘That’s good,’ Louisa said. She assessed the little boy’s limb movements, then shone a light into his eyes; she was relieved to see that his pupils were equal and reactive. She took his pulse and temperature—both of which were in the normal range—and gently examined the cut on his head. ‘It’s clean—you did brilliantly there,’ she told Mrs Livesey, ‘but it’s a little bit too deep just to glue it.’

‘Glue it?’

‘You’d be amazed at what we can do nowadays,’ Louisa said with a smile. ‘I’m going to put a couple of stitches in there, because it will heal better with less scarring.’ She stroked Julian’s hair. ‘I’m going to put some magic cream on your head now to stop it hurting. But to make the magic work even better, we’re going to have to sing a song. Do you know “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”?’

‘Yes,’ the little boy said. ‘Tinkle tinkle.’

‘And can you waggle your fingers like starlight?’ She demonstrated, and he copied her.

‘Brilliant,’ she said. ‘And we’ll get Mummy to sing, too, shall we?’ From experience, Louisa knew that often parents needed as much distraction as toddlers. And Julian was giving a normal two-year-old’s verbal response, which made Louisa fairly sure that the worst of his injuries was the cut.

Once the cream had numbed his skin, she got Mrs Livesey and Julian to sing with her, and gently but swiftly made sure the wound was perfectly clean, then sutured the cut.

‘That was brilliant singing, sweetheart,’ she told the little boy. She glanced up at Mrs Livesey. ‘They’re dissolvable stitches, so you don’t have to worry about bringing him back to have them taken out. You need to keep an eye on him over the next couple of days; if he starts being sick, has a fit or is drowsy or just a bit unwell and you feel something’s not right, come straight back. A mother’s instinct is usually pretty sound and you know your child best.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a lot to take in, so I’ll give you a leaflet about head injuries.’

‘And I have to keep him awake, right?’

‘No, it’s perfectly safe to let Julian go to sleep—he’s going to be tired from crying and the stress of hurting himself. If you’re worried, try waking him after about an hour. I can tell you now, he’ll be pretty grumpy about it, but that’s normal. If you can’t wake him easily, that’s when you need to bring him back.’

She answered a few more questions and, once Mrs Livesey was reassured, Louisa gave Julian a shiny ‘bravery’ sticker and called in her next patient.

When she walked into the staff kitchen for a swift coffee break, Dominic was there.

‘Good timing. The kettle’s hot.’ He smiled at her. ‘Want a coffee?’

That smile was lethal, Louisa thought. Those dimples…no wonder her heart felt as if it had just done another of those odd little flips. But Dominic was her colleague. There wasn’t room in her life for him to be anything more than that. And, even if there was, she’d got it so badly wrong last time that she was wary of repeating her mistake. Handsome is as handsome does.

She strove to sound normal. ‘Thanks, that’d be wonderful. Milk, no sugar, please.’

‘Same as me.’ He paused. ‘How’s the little one you were giving stitches to?’

‘He’s fine.’ She looked at him in surprise. ‘How do you know about that?’

‘I was passing through Minors earlier, and I heard you singing a magic song.’

She felt herself colour. ‘Um.’

‘Hey, don’t be embarrassed. I’m all in favour of whatever it takes to make a child feel less frightened, and singing’s great. I learned three magic tricks when I was a student, precisely so I could make a child concentrate on something other than the reason they came in to see me.’

‘Magic tricks?’

He handed her a mug of coffee. ‘What’s this behind your ear?’ He touched her ear briefly; it was the lightest possible contact but it made Louisa very, very aware of him. When he brought his hand away again, he was flourishing a coin between his thumb and index finger—which he then proceeded to flip between his fingers, one by one.

‘That’s very impressive.’

‘It’s called a Vegas coin roll,’ he told her.

‘That’s going to beat the offer of a sticker every single time—especially for the boys,’ she said with a smile.

‘It doesn’t take long to learn. I’ll teach you some time, if you like,’ he said. ‘Actually, I was hoping to catch you today. Ric says they have a space, so come along on Saturday for a chat. Any time you like between nine and four—he or Bea will be around.’ He fished in his pocket and brought out a folded piece of paper. ‘This is their phone number, their address and directions to the stables from the centre of Brighton.’

She really hadn’t expected that, and her breath caught. An unexpected kindness. ‘Thank you. It’ll mean the world to Ty. He’s been obsessed with horses for years—but, living in London, we didn’t really get to see horses unless we went out at the weekend to one of the farm park places.’

‘And you thought that maybe he’d grow out of the obsession, get interested in something else?’

She nodded. ‘Our paediatrician said these obsessions are very common with Asperger’s children, and they tend to change as the children grow up. But he still really, really loves horses.’

‘I’m with him, there. I met my horse when he was an hour old, and I fell in love with him on the spot.’

She could identify with that. The moment she’d first held Tyler, she’d felt a rush of love like nothing she’d ever experienced before—a deep, deep sense of wonder mingled with protectiveness and sheer joy. She knew that some mothers found it took time to bond with their child, but for her it had been instant and overwhelming—and the love had grown even deeper over the years. ‘I’d better get back to my patients,’ she said. ‘And thank you again. I really appreciate it.’

On Saturday morning, Tyler was almost beside himself with excitement. She drove him to the stables, and Bea showed them around.

‘Did Dominic mention about…?’ Louisa asked quietly when they were in the tack room and Tyler was trying on hard hats.

Bea smiled. ‘Yes. I assume he told you about Andy?’ At Louisa’s blank look, she continued, ‘Ric’s younger brother. He has Asperger’s. Actually, he’s in charge of stable management—Ric and I run the classes,’ she explained. ‘So you don’t need to worry. We’re aware of the challenges, but as far as I’m concerned if a child loves horses and wants to ride, my job is to help the child do just that. We’ll work around the challenges together, because we’re all on the same team.’

Louisa had to swallow hard.

Bea patted her on the shoulder. ‘Riding’s going to be great for him.’

‘Will he be in a class?’

‘I prefer one to one with beginners, at least for the first couple of months, until they’re a bit more confident. But if he wants to come along to a class as well, once we’ve got him started, that’s fine.’

‘Dominic said you do RDA work.’

Bea nodded. ‘We have half a dozen ponies that we use for RDA sessions—they’re very calm and gentle. We run one class each day especially for RDA students. And it’s not just about physical therapy, though of course riding’s great for improving muscle tone and posture and helping to develop fine and gross motor skills. It’s about life skills, too—being with the horses helps both children and adults with communication skills, taking responsibility and being part of a team. And connecting with the animals brings in a new element to their lives.’ She paused. ‘Really, Louisa, you don’t need to worry. We’ll take very good care of him. You can come and watch, bring someone with you, or even just sit in the car and read while he’s having a lesson. Whatever makes you comfortable.’

‘I’d like to watch. Not because I don’t trust you,’ Louisa hastened to add.

‘But because he’s your baby and you don’t want to miss a thing.’ Bea smiled. ‘The first time they ride without being on a leading rein, it’s like watching them take their first steps. It always makes me tear up as much as their mums.’

And then Louisa realised that Bea would take as good care of Tyler as she would herself; as the tension in her shoulders eased, she realised how worried she’d been.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Bea said softly.

Tyler appeared before them, wearing a hard hat. ‘It fits, Mum.’ He beamed at her.

‘Come on. I’ve got half an hour before my next lesson. Let’s get Polo saddled up and you can have a walk round the paddock,’ Bea said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide. ‘Really?’

‘Really. Polo’s going to be your special horse for a while, so let’s get you introduced.’

Watching her son being led round the paddock put a real lump in Louisa’s throat. And Tyler was glowing afterwards. ‘I did it, Mum. I’m going to be a knight. Just like the man in the photograph.’

‘The man in the photograph?’ Louisa was mystified.

Bea looked at her. ‘Ah. You didn’t know.’

‘Know what?’

Bea blew out a breath. ‘I feel as if I’m breaking a confidence here. But I guess you need to see it.’ She took Louisa and Tyler back to the tack room and showed Louisa the photograph on the wall in silence. A man on a white horse, wearing black armour and carrying a lance.

When Louisa peered more closely at it, she realised that the helmet’s visor was up and she could see the rider’s face. Someone she recognised. ‘Dominic?’

‘He still has Pegasus, but he doesn’t joust any more,’ Bea said.

Dominic was a knight—or, at least, he had been one. But, given that he’d been so open about the fact that he had a horse, and that he’d helped her arrange riding lessons for Tyler, why on earth hadn’t he said anything to her when she’d mentioned how much her son wanted to be a knight? ‘Why did he give up jousting?’ she asked.

‘I think it’d be better if he told you,’ Bea said. ‘It’s not my place.’

‘Was he hurt?’ But she could see the mingled concern and awkwardness on Bea’s face. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s not fair to you. Forget I said anything.’

‘That’s what I want to be. A knight,’ Tyler told her.

‘A knight on a white charger, hmm?’ Louisa asked.

‘The horse isn’t white, he’s grey,’ Tyler corrected.

‘He looks white to me,’ Louisa said.

‘White horses are always called grey, Mum,’ Tyler informed her, rolling his eyes.

She ignored his impatience. In Tyler’s mind, if he knew something, it followed that the whole world must know it, too. And in the same painstaking amount of detail.

‘He’s a Percheron. They come from Normandy in France,’ Tyler explained, ‘from a place called Le Perche. It’s thought that Percherons are descended from des-triers, but they’re bigger and heavier than the medieval warhorses. Destriers were trained so you didn’t have to use the reins, because your hands would be full carrying your sword and your shield.’

‘Absolutely right,’ Dominic said. ‘Hello, Louisa.’

Louisa jumped. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He looked at Tyler. ‘And you must be Tyler. How was your first riding lesson?’

‘Brilliant, thank you,’ Tyler said politely. He peered at Dominic. ‘And you’re the knight in the picture, aren’t you? Bea says your horse is called Pegasus. That’s a cool name. How big is he?’

‘Seventeen hands.’

‘And how much does he weigh?’

‘Nearly nine hundred kilograms.’

Tyler looked serious. ‘That’s quite a lot.’

‘It feels like even more than that if he stands on your foot,’ Dominic said with a wry smile.

‘Does he live here?’

‘Yes.’ Dominic paused. ‘You can come and see him, if you like—if that’s all right with your mum.’

‘Please, Mum? Can I?’ Tyler’s gaze was full of entreaty.

‘He’s very gentle,’ Dominic reassured Louisa.

And huge, she thought, when Dominic took them over to the stables.

Tyler duly admired the horse, asking if he was allowed to stroke him and then, at Dominic’s agreement, stroking the horse’s nose. ‘He’s beautiful.’

‘He certainly is,’ Dominic agreed.

‘Are you jousting this weekend?’

‘No.’

His voice was even, but Louisa noticed the shadows in his eyes. Time to head off her son’s line of conversation. ‘Ty, we ought to—’ she began, but Tyler spoke over her.

‘But there’s that picture of you. You’re a knight. You had a lance and you were wearing armour, so you must be a jouster.’

‘Not any more.’

‘Why not?’

‘Ty, you can’t ask questions like that,’ Louisa said.

‘Why not?’

‘It’s rude.’

‘But I didn’t say a swear.’

How was she going to explain this? ‘Ty, let’s talk about this later, OK?’

‘But I wasn’t rude,’ Tyler said, looking puzzled.

Dominic raked a hand through his hair. ‘It’s a fair question. I don’t joust any more because there was an accident and someone got hurt.’

He frowned. ‘My mum’s a nurse. She makes people better. Why didn’t your friend go to see a nurse or a doctor?’

Dominic took a deep breath. ‘It doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes even a nurse or doctor can’t fix things.’

‘Oh.’ Tyler digested the information. ‘Do you miss jousting?’

‘Ty, let’s talk about something else,’ Louisa pleaded. ‘I dunno—what the horse eats, what kind of saddle he has?’

But her son refused to budge. ‘If I’d been a knight and I didn’t do it any more, I think I’d miss jousting,’ Tyler said. ‘I want to be a knight.’

‘It takes a lot of practice and hard work,’ Dominic warned.

‘I don’t mind. I’m going to practise holding the reins at home. Bea showed me how. All I need is a ribbon.’

‘So let’s go and buy the ribbon now,’ Louisa said, seeing an opening. She caught Dominic’s eye and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’

He said nothing, and she stifled a sigh. So much for thinking he understood about Asperger’s and the way it gave a child tunnel vision. Then again, Ty had obviously trampled on a really sore spot. He hadn’t meant to: he just hadn’t been able to pick up the visual clues that Dominic was uncomfortable and she hadn’t been able to head Tyler in another direction.

‘Time to say goodbye, Ty,’ she said.

‘Goodbye, and thank you for showing me your horse,’ Tyler said politely.

Dominic leaned back against the stable door and watched them both walk over the yard. Hell. He hadn’t been prepared for that one.

Do you miss jousting?

Yes, he missed it. Missed it like crazy. Holding the lance in his right hand and the reins in his left, then focusing on the tilt, urging Pegasus to a quick canter and then closing in, focusing on where he was going to land his lance. Speed, precision and skill: the kind of thrill that reminded him he was still alive.

Except he’d been a little too precise, the last time he’d jousted. Too fast. And he’d unhorsed his opponent. Oliver had fallen awkwardly, and the armour hadn’t been enough to protect his back: he’d ended up with an incomplete spinal injury. An injury that had left him stuck in a wheelchair and ruined his career—because, as a surgeon, you needed strength as well as delicacy. And you also needed to be able to move round your patient. Stand up. Lean over. Oliver couldn’t do that any more.

Hell, hell, hell. He’d taken so much away from his brother. His career, his hobbies, his mobility, his joie de vivre—Oliver was in too much pain, most of the time, to be full of laughter the way he’d used to be.

So giving up jousting had been the least Dominic could do. To make absolutely sure he never made a mistake like that again and someone else ended up badly hurt.

Pegasus whickered and shoved his head against Dominic’s.

‘Yeah. I know you miss it, too.’ He made a fuss of his horse. ‘But we just do steady hacking nowadays, OK? It’s safer.’

On Monday, Louisa sought out Dominic at lunchtime. ‘I’ve got something for you.’

‘For me?’ He looked at her in surprise.

She went over to her locker, took out a plastic wallet and handed it to him.

He looked at it; it was a sketch of a horse. And not just any horse. One he recognised. ‘That’s Pegasus.’

‘Ty drew him for you yesterday. He just wanted to say thank you. For helping me sort out the lessons and for letting him make a fuss of your horse.’

‘No worries.’ He stared at the picture. ‘Nobody’s ever drawn my horse for me before. And he did this from memory, from seeing Pegasus just once?’ At Louisa’s nod, he blew out a breath. ‘Wow. He’s seriously good at this.’

‘I’ll tell him you liked it, shall I?’ She looked pleased, too; clearly she was more used to people being put off by her son’s directness.

‘You can tell him I’m going to frame it,’ Dominic said. ‘And tell him thank you.’

‘I’m sorry about the way he grilled you. He didn’t mean to trample on a sore spot. He doesn’t pick up—’

‘Visual cues, and he has tunnel vision,’ Dominic finished. ‘I know. I’m used to Andy.’ Andy had said the same thing, too: Why let the accident stop you jousting? He’d gone further, saying that Dominic giving up jousting wouldn’t fix Oliver’s back, so he was being completely self-indulgent and wallowing in it.

Maybe Andy and Tyler were right.

But Dominic still couldn’t see past the guilt. Oliver would never joust again, or be a surgeon again. And that knowledge was hard enough to live with; harder still was the knowledge that his brother was in constant pain. Oliver had forgiven him, but Dominic still couldn’t forgive himself.

‘Are you all right?’ Louisa asked, looking concerned.

‘Old ghosts.’ He shook himself. ‘Ignore me. I’m fine.’

And that was the biggest fib of all.

Dominic had gone back into his shell, Louisa thought over the next couple of days. He was always perfectly polite and professional if she was working with him in Resus, but she was aware of his reserve. She tried to put it out of her head; they were colleagues, so it shouldn’t matter. As long as the patients were treated properly, it shouldn’t matter that he was reserved with her.

And then, on Wednesday evening, her car refused to start after Tyler’s riding lesson. ‘Oh, great.’

‘Why won’t your car work, Mum?’ Ty asked.

‘I don’t know, love.’ She sighed. ‘I’d better call the roadside rescue people.’

She’d been waiting for nearly a quarter of an hour when Bea came over. ‘Are you all right?’

‘My car won’t start. I’ve called the roadside rescue people—hopefully they’ll be here soon and they’ll able to fix it.’ And hopefully it wouldn’t cost a fortune; the expenses of moving had eaten into her savings.

‘Come and sit in the kitchen. It’s getting chilly out here. I’ll get you a coffee,’ Bea said, shepherding them inside and switching on the kettle. ‘Ty, would you prefer juice or water?’

‘Apple juice, please.’

She rummaged in the fridge. ‘Sorry, love. I’ve got orange or cranberry. Or milk.’

‘Nothing, thank you.’

‘Always so polite. You have beautiful manners, Ty,’ she said with a smile.

Tyler was busy drawing a picture of Polo when the roadside rescue people arrived.

‘He’ll be fine in here with me,’ Bea said, ruffling Tyler’s hair. ‘He knows where you are if he needs you—right, Ty?’

He smiled at her. ‘Right.’

When the mechanic had hooked up the diagnostic computer, Dominic came over. In faded jeans, riding boots, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and no tie, he looked incredibly touchable. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘Spark plugs,’ the mechanic said. ‘Two of them. The problem is, they’ll need specialist equipment to get them out—they’re not a standard size and I don’t have the right equipment to sort it out here. The manufacturer changed them on this particular model,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘It’s not like the old days, when spark plugs were the same on every car. If just one had gone, I could’ve disengaged it for you and you would’ve been safe to get home or to the garage, but with two gone it’s not safe to do that, I’m afraid. If you ring the main dealer now, they’ll still be there,’ he suggested, ‘and they’ll book you in so I can put your car on the back of the tow truck, and all you have to do is drop your keys through the door in an envelope.’

‘Would you be able to drop us home afterwards?’ she asked.

‘Sorry, love. It’s not covered by your policy. I would’ve bent the rules for you, given that you’ve got a little one, but I’ve got another callout waiting,’ he said.

‘Fair enough. I can call a taxi.’

The dealer’s service department was just about to close, but they duly booked her in for the next morning and asked her to drop the keys through their door.

She was about to arrange for a taxi to meet them at the garage when Dominic laid a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry about calling a taxi. I’ll follow you to the garage and drop you and Ty home.’

‘I can’t impose on you like that.’

He shrugged. ‘From what Tyler tells me, you don’t live that far from me. And I’m finished here for this evening anyway.’

‘Actually, I can drop the keys through the letterbox for you at the dealer’s,’ the mechanic added, ‘if that saves a bit of time.’

‘And it means you’ll get home quicker—Tyler’s routine won’t be thrown out so much,’ Dominic said.

That was the clincher. Ty. Although he coped much better with change nowadays than he had as a small child, it would still throw him. Routine was really, really important to him, and Louisa tried hard to stick to it. ‘Thank you. Both of you. That’s really kind.’

Louisa clearly wasn’t used to leaning on anyone, Dominic thought, so she must’ve been a single parent for quite a while now. And she’d been adamant about Ty’s father not being part of his life. Whatever had happened between them, it had obviously hurt her badly. Not that he could ask. It would be way too tactless.

When he pulled up outside the little terraced house they were renting, Louisa said, ‘Would you like to come in and stay for dinner? It’s nothing special—just pasta, garlic bread and salad—but you’d be very welcome.’

Tempting. So very, very tempting. He was about to say no when Tyler added, ‘If you don’t, then Mum will have to buy you flowers to say thank you for helping, and boys don’t really like flowers so she’ll fuss about it.’

He couldn’t help laughing. ‘OK, then, thanks. I have to admit, it’ll be nice to have home-cooked food for a change.’