There was no further sign of Daryl by the end of the day; Sarah felt responsible for taking him into the meeting, but at the same time, was aware that trying to cover up Daryl’s involvement would cause even more trouble.  Not happy to leave things as they were, Sarah went looking for Jenny, and eventually tracked her down in one of the pods at the side of the stage.  She looked as if she had been crying.  Sarah sat down next to her and took her hand.

“What’s happened now, Jenny?”

“Oliver.  He’s finding it difficult to accept that he might have been wrong about the guy who died.  We’ve explained that he was given duff information in the first place.  We all know that Natasha is behind this; and we know the lengths that she will go to in order to get her own way. Daryl’s been given the rest of the day off. He hasn’t been sacked – yet, but it was touch and go.  You and I both know that he is a good lad, and means well but if we let him go, it’s highly unlikely that he’ll get another job in media.  He asked if I could pass his mobile number on to you.  He said that you and Millie had been very kind to him after the accident.”

“Would that be alright with you Jenny? He lives alone and I’m not sure that he’s fully recovered from that blow to the head.”

Jenny handed over a piece of paper with Daryl’s details on it; Sarah knew that she had the number on her phone already, but took it anyway. She looked at her watch; almost time to meet up with Al, and her stomach was beginning to do somersaults at the prospect.  All the way down in the lift, she did her best not to grin too broadly in case any of the other occupants thought that she was demented. Al was sat behind the security desk, checking people out, and didn’t see her at first.  He looked up from the screen, and Sarah saw a smile on his face that echoed her own.  She stood to one side of the desk; waiting until the last of the stragglers had checked out and said goodnight.

“You okay?” Al asked.

“I am now.  It’s been a bit hairy upstairs. Natasha and her mother are very rude words, and poor Daryl has got dragged into the mess now.  If the Coroner’s verdict implicates Oliver, we might all be out of a job.”

“How would you feel about that?” Al asked, as he closed down the computer and locked everything away.

“Could you teach me how to paint and renovate a house?”

“I would love to.  What are we doing about dinner tonight, and breakfast?”

“I need to feed Buster and get an overnight bag.”

“Of course.  There’s a big supermarket en route to mine.  We can cook, or get a takeaway.  I’ll have to pick up some chocolate Shreddies though.”

“The way to my heart!”

“I’ll make a note of that.”

Mike, the night security guard arrived, and Al did a brief but efficient handover.  Ever wary, he checked the CCTV of the car park before offering his arm to Sarah.  She took it, and tried not to squeeze too tightly as they walked across the concourse to the car park.

“So, who have you told, and what have you told them?” he asked.

“Well, just Jenny really.  I had to tell her where I was staying tonight.  She raised her eyebrows and wanted more information but I didn’t volunteer anything unnecessary.”

“Somehow Oliver has got hold of the information.  He nudged me with his elbow on the way out, and told me that I was a man of mystery and a lucky dog.”

“That’s a compliment, coming from Oliver.  I expect he’ll have the thumbscrews and the rack ready for tomorrow morning.”

Al stopped at the entrance to the underground car park and took Sarah’s hands in his.

“I don’t want to disappoint you, Sarah.  It’s been years since my wife and I split up, and there hasn’t been anyone important since.  I was never that good at romance anyway, and well, I don’t have much to offer in terms of boyfriend material.”

Sarah felt that flutter of butterflies as she looked up into his eyes, which were most definitely a deep blue.

“I don’t want to compare you with my ex, Al, but this time I have to.  Andy took over my life and I allowed him to, because I was too scared to cope with life when my Dad died.  Gradually, I began to rebel against Andy and his weird obsessions; by eating chocolate Shreddies, takeaway pizza and watching TV in the bedroom.  Andy going off to find himself in Thailand was the best thing that ever happened to me at the time. Since then, I found Millie, a home, a job, and best of all, I found you.  Let’s get Buster fed and watered, pick up some shopping and go home. To your home.”

Ignoring the CCTV cameras, Al took her in his arms and kissed her.  They were so engrossed with each at that moment, that neither noticed the presence of one large person, and one significantly smaller person standing behind the concrete partition.  The reverie was split by the sound of a car alarm going off; shortly after that, they heard a scream.

“Stay here near the car Sarah.  I won’t be long.”

Al ran up the slope, and looked around for the source of the noise.  It stopped, and was replaced by the sound of Sarah, calling his name in a rather restrained but panicky voice.  He turned around and ran back, only to find that Marta had her arm around Sarah’s neck, and was holding a knife to her throat.  A slightly hysterical, but apparently gleeful Natasha was standing next to them, emptying the contents of Sarah’s handbag onto the floor, and moving the contents around with her still plaster-casted foot.

“What you look for Tasha?  I don’t want her money now.  I just want to get my own back, and so do you.  Don’t move any closer security man or I will slit your girlfriend’s throat with my very sharp knife.  She made promises to me and she didn’t keep them.  Same as Peter, same as my ex-husband. I will get them all in the end”

Al ventured forward a step, but stopped as Marta drew the knife blade down the left side of Sarah’s face, leaving a long and bloody cut. 

Natasha laughed.

“More, Marta! More blood! I was looking for her rape alarm but it isn’t there.  We were all given rape alarms to keep us safe, but it seems that Sarah the social worker thinks she is above all that.  Let’s see you get out of this then Sarah!  Your boyfriend will just have to stand there and watch you die while Marta cuts you open!”

Despite feeling absolutely terrified, Sarah’s mind was trying desperately to recall the self-defence techniques she had been taught on the forensic social work placement she’d done with Jude years ago.  Marta’s grip was very tight, and Sarah knew that there was no reasoning with her, nor with Natasha, so buoyed up were they with adrenalin, and a sense of their own importance.  Catching Al’s eye, Sarah slowly closed and opened both of hers twice, then began to slump as if Marta was cutting off her airway.  The dead weight of Sarah’s body took Marta by surprise, and she loosened her hold.  It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Sarah to get hold of the knife arm and shove it away from her as hard as she could.  At the same time, she pushed her legs and bottom backwards into Marta’s stomach, knocking her off balance.

Al moved very fast once he saw the opportunity; he knocked the knife out of Marta’s hand, punched her in the jaw, and kicked Natasha’s plaster cast so that she fell over. Marta was out cold, and Natasha sat on the floor grizzling from the pain, and calling for her mother.  Mike had seen it all on the CCTV, and pressed the alarm for the police and ambulance, before racing over to assist with detaining Natasha and Marta, who was beginning to come round from Al’s sucker punch. Sarah was holding Al’s handkerchief to her face, and beginning to feel a bit dizzy from the shock and blood loss.  Al opened his car door and sat her down on the passenger seat, before making sure that Marta wasn’t going anywhere.

The police arrived, and took Marta and Natasha away to their car in handcuffs. Al put his arm around Sarah’s shoulders and held her tight, relieved that she had escaped the attack, angry that Marta had hurt her, but incredibly proud of her quick thinking. A paramedic took the handkerchief away from Sarah’s face very gently and examined the cut.

“It’s deep.  Too deep for glue or steri-strips.  What kind of knife was it?”

“The police have it.” said Al.  “Looked like a standard, but expensive kitchen knife, probably supplied by dear little Natasha. Do we need to take Sarah to hospital?”

“We’ll take her in the ambulance. I expect the police will want to speak to you further.  Are you a friend of Sarah’s?”

Al nodded, and Sarah, trying not to smile because her face hurt, grabbed Al’s hand.

“Rather more than a friend actually.  Al is my partner. Will I have to stay in hospital?”

“Not down to me.  It’s always best to get checked out first though. Are you ready to go now?”

Al gave Sarah another of his gentlest bear hugs; and whispered in her ear, “I’ll get to the hospital as soon as can.  Will you wait for me?”

“Always.  Is the supermarket an all-night one?”

“I won’t forget the chocolate Shreddies.” Al said as he kissed her hand, then watched as she walked slowly over to the ambulance, supported by the paramedic.

The police had plenty of questions, and unfortunately, as Al’s detective friend was off duty, there was a lot of explaining to be done about Marta’s stalking, and Natasha’s collusion in what was being considered attempted murder.  Al had to cram in a great deal of necessities on the way but got to the hospital as quickly as he could, and ran along the corridor checking in each of the cubicles until he found Sarah.  Of course, she was in the very last cubicle; sitting up on the hospital trolley with a large but neat dressing on her face.  Before leaving the Quays car park, Al had gathered up the contents of Sarah’s handbag, and her laptop bag, which had been dropped when Marta grabbed her. To say that Sarah was overjoyed at having her belongings back, would be an understatement. Her reaction to seeing Al was even more intense, in that she clung to him like a lifebelt, and pressed her unscathed cheek to his chest.

“They said that there will be a scar Al, it’s quite a long cut, and – and – if she’d pressed the knife in a little harder, and longer – well – I might not be here.”

“But you are here, and Marta is locked up.  So is her little friend, who far from wanting to apologise for her actions, is still spitting and swearing at anyone who will listen.  Do you have to stay in overnight?”

“No.  They just said I’d have to wait for you.  The nurse is bringing me some painkillers, an appointment to come back in a week to check the wound, several clean dressings, and a huge list of instructions.”

“Where do you want to go now?  I’ve been in and fed Buster, but now that Marta’s in custody, you can go back to the flat if you want?”

“What I really want is to go back to yours – if that’s okay.  It’s not just a question of feeling safe anymore.  Can you put up with the company of this drugged-up scar-face?”

“Silly question.  I put some things into a bag for you.  I was kind of hoping that you might want to stay.”

Sarah managed a feeble laugh but refrained from smiling because it hurt too much now that the local anaesthetic was wearing off.

“Any excuse to rummage through my knicker drawer.”

The nurse came in with the list and the painkillers.  She insisted on Sarah going out to the car in the wheelchair, and watching while Al helped Sarah into the passenger seat and secured the seat belt. They waved goodbye, and drove out of the hospital car park, only to reposition at the nearby retail centre that had every kind of takeaway food available.

“Eat in the car or warm things up when we get home?” asked Al as he paid for the food.  His question was answered by Sarah nibbling frantically on the chicken nuggets as soon as he offered them to her.  She had an idea that a burger would entail opening up her mouth too wide for the stitches but nuggets were just the right size.  The strawberry milkshake tasted like ambrosia from the gods, but it was once she had finished eating that Sarah found herself crying.  Silently at first, but as the every-thoughtful Al started mopping her up with the wodge of napkins he’d grabbed, the fear and shock that had been building up since the attack finally found an outlet. Al held her tight in his arms until the sobbing subsided, and both he and the napkins were drenched.

“Sorry, Al.  I’ve made your shirt all wet.”

“It will wash.  I’m not sure that your blouse will recover though, I found a couple of blouses in the wardrobe that I’ve seen you in, and put them in the bag.  If necessary, I have an extensive range of large shirts and black tee-shirts at home that you can use.”

“I think I’d rather burn this blouse than try to get the blood out of it.  Every time I look at it, I’ll be reminded of Marta.  Mind you, with this scar, I’ll have a permanent reminder anyway.”

“It will fade in time, Sarah. At the moment it’s a reminder of what a brave and resourceful woman you are.  You should see it as a mark of honour.  That’s the way policeman see scars.”

Sarah emerged from the sea of damp napkins.

“Al, you are a strange, but totally wonderful person, and I bless the day that I met you.”

“Me too.” said Al as he gathered up the takeaway detritus and took it off to the nearest bin.