As she sat with Hannah in her arms she tes
ted each part of her body slowly and was relieved to find nothing seemed to be broken, although everything was hurting. How could she have been so stupid? She shut her eyes helplessly.
She was usually so careful, so cautious.
After a few minutes Tiger's striped head peered warily round the kitchen door, only to disappear abruptly again as the front doorbell rang stridently.
"That will be Grandma." Why hadn't her mother used her key? she thought wearily as she struggled painfully to her feet, Hannah trotting along by her side like a scared puppy.
She could feel each step in her head as she walked slowly to the door, and the short journey took all her concentration. She hadn't been aware her head had bled, but just as she reached the door she saw her white blouse was smudged with red, and as she raised her hand to her brow it came away sticky.
Great, just great. If her mother hadn't panicked already she would throw a blue fit at the sight of blood. But it wasn't her mother who faced her as she opened the door: "What the hell...?"
The shock of seeing Wolf on her doorstep was almost too much, and as she swayed he caught her arm firmly before bending slightly and whisking her up into his _arms. It was only a step through the minute hall into the small but cosy lounge, and the open door at the far end which led into the kitchen was wide open, the stepladder bearing evidence of the accident.
"I'm all right, really...” she murmured faintly as he deposited her with startling gentleness into the depths of the sofa.
The expression on his face told her how stupid her words had sounded in the circumstances, and he knelt down at her side before turning to speak to
Hannah who was standing just behind them, her eyes wide and her face tear-smudged.
"Are you OK, sweet-pea?" She had never heard him speak in that tender tone of voice before and it did something to her heart that was almost painful.
As Hannah nodded uncertainly he reached out an arm and drew the small child close, hugging her reassuringly before speaking again.
"Your mummy is going to be fine.
She's just bumped her head a little, like you bump your knees if you fall over. Understand? “The small nod carried more assurance this time.
"That is all you've-done?" He turned back to Lydia suddenly.
"No broken bones, no sprains?"
"I don't think so." She tried to smile but the effort was too much.
"I've just got this awful headache."
"How awful?" he asked grimly as his gaze took in her cloudy eyes and trembling mouth.
"Did you pass out?"
She nodded, but the action caused such excruciating pain that she gasped out loud, the whiteness of her face standing out in stark contrast to the blood on her forehead.
"Where's your husband? Matthew, isn't it?"
As Hannah opened her mouth Lydia jumped in first, her voice high with strain.
"Hannah, go and get ready for bed, darling. Just pop into your nightie, we'll have a wash in the morning." The kitten made a cautious reappearance as she spoke, its bright green eyes enormous in the delicate face.
"I'll bring Tiger in to stay goodnight when you're in bed."
That did the trick, and as Hannah's feet disappeared up the stairs Wolf stood up slowly, his eyes concerned as he quietly glanced round the room.
"What's going on, Lydia?" She stared up at him, quite unable to speak.
"He's not living here, is he?" It was a statement rather than a question, and with the sick pounding in her head a lowering of her eyes was all she could manage. She ought to explain, she told herself weakly, now was the perfect opportunity and he wouldn't be too mad, would he? Not with her like this? But somehow, as he stood in front of her, his face uncharacteristically gentle and his eyes warm, she couldn't bring herself to speak, to see his expression change from one of tender concern to hard condemnation of her deceit.
"I thought something was wrong for the last week or two," he said almost to himself.