Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“You’ll like the guys.”
“Are they staying with you?”
“I don’t know. I told Walker they’re welcome, since I have the extra bedroom and someone can sleep on the couch, but he didn’t seem to love the idea.”
“He wants you all to himself.” She grins, and I roll my eyes, even though I know she’s probably right. Then again, I want him to myself too. These last two weeks without him have dragged on and on, even with me taking extra shifts to keep busy. “Are you still going to your parents’ in a few weeks?”
“Yeah, I’m meeting them in Florida for a couple of days, then I’ll be back. And I think Walker and I are going to Scotland for a few days after that.”
“Send me those dates. I’ll see if Mark wants to go.” We stop at the entrance to the airport, since Mark is picking her up and I’m taking the train. “I’ll talk to you later. Tell Walker I said hi.” She kisses my cheek.
“I will. Get home safe.” I wave goodbye, then head for the train platform. When I arrive at Paddington, I stop at the grocery store to pick up some stuff so Walker and I won’t need to leave my place until it’s time for us to go to Douglas’s house tomorrow evening. Then, with my hands full, I head home.
Letting myself into the building, I stop in the entryway, totally confused by the sight that greets me. Mail and packages are littering the ground, and at the bottom of the stairs, Mrs. Lewis is lying in a crumpled heap. It takes me a moment to realize what I’m looking at, and when it registers, adrenalin floods my system.
I drop everything I’m holding and begin screaming for help at the top of my lungs, rushing to her side. She doesn’t move as I call her name, and my hands shake as I feel for her pulse. I can’t find one, but I convince myself I’m wrong and search again, still calling out to her.
With the way her body is bent, I’m terrified to move her, and the blood pooled around her head worries me more than anything. With my knees shaking, I wobble to my phone that’s in my purse and fight the urge to puke as I dial 999.
The man who answers my call assures me the police and an ambulance will be to us in just a few minutes. He asks me to check for a pulse, then walks me through how to start CPR—something I’ve been trained how to do for my job but forget in the moment as terror makes my hands shake. It takes me a minute to get her off the stairs and onto her back, and I’m a mess as I start chest compressions.
“Bloody hell, what’s happened?” Josh asks, stumbling to a stop in the doorway, and I look up at him through watery eyes.
“I… I came h-home and found her at the bo-bottom of the st-steps,” I sob as he falls to his knees on the opposite side of her body.
“Nanny?” He pats her cheek, and I squeeze my eyes closed to block out the sight of him as he attempts to wake her up. “Is she alive?”
“I… I don’t know.” The question isn’t one I want to answer, and thankfully, I’m saved from having to when the paramedics arrive and usher both Josh and me out of the way so they can check her over themselves.
With my arms wrapped around him, we watch them work on her, and I think I might pass out when they share a somber look and call over the police officer to talk to him quietly. As Josh begins to cry with his head on my shoulder, I hug him and tell him how sorry I am.
Guilt eats at me. For the last couple of weeks, I haven’t been home much, and she’s been going up and down the stairs to take care of Mizzy for me, while I’ve been working longer hours. She probably came down this evening to check on her, just because she knew I was gone all day.
“We’re going to take her to the hospital,” the officer says as he stops in front of us. I don’t ask if she’s alive; it’s obvious she’s not. “You can ride with me, or in the ambulance if you’d like to go with her.”
“I can’t. I just can’t.” Josh shakes his head, avoiding looking at the paramedics who bring in a stretcher.
“I’ll go with her,” I whisper, not wanting her to be alone, and the policeman nods.
I gather my stuff and place it next to my door, not even bothering to take it inside, and then I take my purse and follow everyone outside. Sitting in the back of the ambulance, I hold Mrs. Lewis’s hand that feels suddenly cold. There is no commotion around her, just silence as we drive across town.