One Left Alive - Helen Phifer Page 0,46

at the end and yes, there was a huge copper sitting on a chair: one she recognised.

She smiled at Tony, who waved back, and crossed towards him, trying not to stare at the patients hooked up to life support machines and their visitors. He stood up, opening the door for her and she stepped inside.

Bronte still looked tiny in the huge bed. Harrison was sitting on a chair next to the bed holding her frail hand in his. He didn’t even look her way.

‘Hi, Harrison, how are you doing?’

‘How do you think I’m doing?’

Tony pointed to the door, and she followed him out of the room.

‘I know he’s upset, but he’s an arrogant little tosser. There’s not much point even trying to make conversation with him. I’ve given up.’

‘He’s had a bit of a shock. It can’t be good. How long has he been here?’

‘They only let him stop two hours and then they kick him out. Don’t think the nurses like him either. Anyway, look at you, why are you in your scruffs?’

‘On attachment with CID.’

‘No, you’re not.’

She nodded.

‘But, you’re only just out of company. I thought we had to have two years’ experience?’

She shrugged. ‘No idea, I think they’re short-staffed and I was probably in the right place at the right time to be honest.’

‘Well I never, what do you think, do you like it?’

Morgan stared at him. It was a simple enough question yet she couldn’t answer because she had no idea if she did. It was all a bit of a blur; she didn’t know where she fit in yet or if she ever would.

‘It’s early days and long hours. Has Bronte woken up at all?’

‘Nope, not even twitched.’

‘Thanks, I’ll go speak to the nurse.’

She turned around to walk the short distance to the desk.

‘Sorry to bother you, I’m PC Morgan Brookes. Could you give me an update on Bronte?’

The nurse looked up from her paperwork. She studied her for a couple of seconds. Morgan noticed the name on her ID card read ‘Kimberley’.

‘What’s the password?’

For a moment her mind went blank; she knew it, of course she did. ‘Caravan.’

The nurse laughed. ‘Close enough, but it’s “campervan”. The surgeon is happy with the surgery to remove the clot; the swelling has gone down significantly. He’s going to start reducing the anaesthetic later on and see how she reacts; hopefully she’ll wake up. But there’s no knowing how serious the brain damage is at the moment.’

‘So, you think she could wake up? That’s great news.’

The nurse smiled. ‘We’re hoping she’ll wake up, but we won’t know until we try and she might have complete amnesia.’

‘She won’t remember what happened?’

‘I’d say there’s a good chance she won’t, but you never know. She’s young and obviously very strong-willed or she wouldn’t have survived this long.’

‘Thank you. I’ll pass it on to my boss.’

She went back to the room where Harrison was still staring at Bronte.

Tony shrugged.

‘Harrison, I need to have a chat with you about some stuff. How about we go grab a coffee and you can have a breather?’

He shook his head, still not making eye contact with her.

‘Please, it’s important. It’s me, Morgan, I was first on scene when you called 999. You can either speak to me or I’ll have to take you back to the station and I think you’ve spent long enough in there already.’

He stared at her and a flicker of recognition sparked in his eyes. Grunting, he pushed his chair back and stood up. She took this as a good sign.

‘You lead the way, I have no idea where the café is.’

He walked out, head bent and hands tucked into his pockets. She followed him.

He led her to the stairs and down to the next floor, where he strode towards what she hoped was the dining room. Down here was much quieter than upstairs; it was darker as well. A cold shiver ran down her spine; they were pretty secluded down here. What if he was the killer? He could turn around, drag her into a side room and no one would know about it.

Then she spied the dome of the CCTV camera on the ceiling in front of them; well, hopefully someone would. The air filled with the sound of clanging cutlery and loud voices. Harrison turned left into the wide opening and she followed suit. Considering the corridor had been so deserted, the café wasn’t: it was almost full to capacity. They got in the queue and she picked up

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