The Graft Read Online Free Page A

sure was to come. Why else anaesthetise her?
     
    ‘Maureen, has Jude rung?’
     
    The young woman shook her head.
     
    ‘Not a word. I am going to the hospital in a minute, Mummy.’
     
    Verbena nodded absently.
     
    She knew it was a lie, a kindly one but a lie all the same. The news had arrived by one of those text things, she guessed, having heard the noise earlier on. The incessant beeping that told the young people of the world they were attached in some way to the rest of their peer group. The rum would give her heartburn, she knew, so she took a couple of Tums. But her heart was heavier now than it had ever been. Her boy, her Sonny Boy, was dying and there was nothing she could do about it.
     
    She looked around the room and pictured him there, lying on the sofa listening to Beenie Man or Bob Marley, singing along to the music, his eyes dancing with happiness and his body flourishing from her love and good cooking. All wasted now. But forever in her mind’s eye, no matter what anyone else thought, he was her heart and always would be.
     
    Verbena braced herself for the bad news she was sure was going to come.
     
     
Judy Hatcher was holding on to Tyrell. She could smell the distinctive mix of cigarettes, grass and deodorant. He looked as good as he smelled. She was shaking with sadness and hurt and he held her to him gently as they watched their comatose son.
     
    ’All right, Jude, everything will be all right.’
     
    It was just something to say, crap, because they both knew nothing would ever be all right for her or him again.
     
     
Nick Leary looked at the policeman’s face on the monitor and buzzed him in. It seemed an age before the man had driven up the drive and reached the front door. Tammy put the kettle on and smiled half-heartedly at her husband. For the first time in ages she felt protective of him. It was usually Nick protecting her. But seeing the whiteness of his face and the shaking of his hands she wanted to cry for him. In twenty-four hours their lives had been turned upside down, and all because some kid had decided he wanted to take what they had. What they had worked for all their lives.
     
    It was wrong, all wrong, that they might have to fight to defend themselves in court. Their brief had already warned them about that.
     
    Nick was not a saint, she knew that. But he did not deserve all this. He had ducked and dived, but that was for his family, his wife, his kids.
     
    As Tammy poured water into the teapot the policeman entered the kitchen with her husband. Detective Inspector Rudde was sound. She knew he was on their side.
     
    ‘Mr Leary.’
     
    He nodded his head respectfully.
     
    ‘Mrs Leary.’
     
    She smiled back at him and raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows.
     
    ‘Can I get you a cup of tea? A Scotch?’
     
    ‘Both, if you don’t mind.’
     
    They all grinned, the ice broken but the fear still tangible; still there between them all like a pane of glass.
     
    ‘I’ve got a good malt in the study, twenty years old.’
     
    Nick left the kitchen as fast as his legs could carry him. He could feel his own heartbeat, hear it roaring in his ears. He hoped that this would all come to a head. He was even at the stage where if they were going to nick him, he hoped it would happen soon. Anything was better than this limbo, this endless waiting.
     
    In the kitchen Tammy stared into Rudde’s eyes.
     
    ‘What’s going to happen to Nick?’
     
    He smiled gently.
     
    ‘If it’s left to me he’s in the clear, but obviously I can’t speak for the CPS. My recommendation is that the whole thing is dropped, forgotten about.’
     
    ’And the boy?’
     
    ‘They are going to turn off the life support.’
     
    She nodded. After swallowing deeply she asked, ‘So it could be a murder charge?’
     
    Rudde nodded.
     
    ‘But I doubt that very much. Manslaughter, maybe.’
     
    She busied herself with the tea, her fear of losing Nick overwhelming her once