BLOOD DRAGON by Freddie Peters (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📕

“What else?”

Philippe’s face went blank for a moment. His eyes widened suddenly. He turned to face Nancy.

“The only new piece of research she was working on was a piece concerning …” Philippe’s eyes blinked a few times.

Nancy’s throat tightened. “… my father.”

Chapter Eleven

“Are you OK?” Her head turned round to the left. Nat had raised the visor of her helmet so that Cora could hear her shout. Cora gave Nat the thumbs up.

The traffic light turned green and she throttled up the motorbike. They had passed King’s Cross Station and the British Library on Euston Road. In a few minutes they would arrive at University College Hospital. DS Branning, the arty gang’s new hero, was following in his unmarked car. He had grumbled but reluctantly agreed she could ride with her friend when she had threatened to evade his protection if he did not let her.

She felt a little silly now, but it was so much nicer to ride on the back of Nat’s bike than to share a car smelling of stale cigarettes. Nat had paid attention though, making sure she did not leave him behind, stuck at the traffic light. They reached their destination and Nat dropped Cora at the entrance to UCH. She walked the bike along the wide pavement to find the bike rack at the side of the building.

Cora quickly climbed the short flight of stairs that led to the large revolving doors. She walked in and turned around to wait for Branning. Now that she was on her own, she felt more exposed than she’d like to admit. But her protection officer appeared after a couple of minutes.

He was walking up the same stairs as she had, body bent forward, pushing against the cold wind that was suddenly blowing from the North East. Cora shook her head. So British … only a flimsy jacket but a thick woollen scarf to fend off the elements.

They walked together to the lifts, heading for the floor where Ollie was being kept alive.

“You don’t mind if I join you?” Nat had just managed to catch up with them as the lift doors were closing.

Cora shook her head. It felt comforting that a friend wanted to visit, giving her hope that Ollie might yet recover. Perhaps it would do him good to hear a familiar voices apart from her own. She had read this online the day before as she was researching the impact of regular interactions on coma patients.

The PC that was watching Ollie’s room stood up to let them in. Cora stopped at the door. She could hear the clicks and the rushing sounds of the monitors that had been plugged into her boyfriend’s body. She turned towards her friend, no longer certain she wanted her to see him looking so vulnerable. But it was too late. Nat had already moved into the room. Her gaze ran over Ollie’s white shape underneath the bed covers, but Cora could not make out her expression … fascination, remote interest … Whatever it was, it was not what Cora had expected.

Cora walked in, ignoring Nat and her strange attitude. She moved slowly as though she was approaching someone asleep. She stopped when she reached the side of his bed. Her stomach tightened. She took her time to sit down and place her hand into Ollie’s.

Nat walked over and put her hands on the bars at the foot of the medical bed. “He looks so peaceful.”

“Ollie can probably hear us.”

“Really? That’s incredible.” She kept gazing at Ollie as she responded.

Cora adjusted her fingers around his, finding room amongst the various tubes and attachments. She wanted to talk to him, to tell him that she didn’t care what had happened. That she would understand if he explained why he had got involved with drugs again.

But it was no use, the words didn’t come, and Nat’s presence made it impossible.

“Had he been using a lot?” Nat’s voice sounded grating in the near silence of the room.

“I told you, Ollie can hear us.”

“Sorry … though I can’t imagine Ollie being disturbed by an honest conversation.”

She was right. Ollie liked honest conversations. He made a point of it. Still, Cora gave Nat a look that asked her to stop. But her friend did not seem to notice.

Cora squeezed Ollie’s fingers gently and raised them to her lips. She half stood up, bent towards his face and kissed his cheek.

“We should be going.” She would return later, on her own.

Nat’s fingers slowly slid from the metal bars. She moved backwards without taking her eyes away from Ollie. Cora stayed bending over him for a moment, replaced his hand gently on the sheets and turned around to leave. Her eyes were wet with tears.

“That was quick.” Branning turned from talking to the other officer.

“Could you give me a lift back home … please?” Cora made an effort to control her voice.

“Did he say anything?” Branning asked almost mechanically.

Cora nodded. “He did.”

* * *

It was not the cold, harsh wind that pushed against her that made her eyes water. Nancy had done her best to keep a clear mind and help Philippe. She wanted to tell him that there might be hope of finding Amy alive, but she didn’t believe it herself. It would have been too easy to play the hopeful card.

Philippe’s accusations, although he had not spoken them aloud, shook her because they were so true. She had asked the people she knew for help - Philippe, Amy, Pole – with her quest.

Her father had disappeared over 30 years ago. She was only a teenager when he had left the safety of Paris and his family for China. At the time she had moved from hope to grief and finally to rage. She had buried his image for years until now.

She had lived with false assumptions for far too long.

She had to know.

She had to know what the true story was.

But it was she who needed to do the