Abby smiled, hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. “Well, you better go get the chocolate before it’s too late and you collapse.”
She was off her mum’s knee and running for the pantry before the sentence was out of Abby’s mouth, proving once and for all that her energy was entirely depleted. Abby chewed her bottom lip as she stared at the door her sister had stalked through.
She wouldn’t let them take Katy. It was unthinkable. As much as she wanted to tell Victoria to go to hell, one week was a small price to pay if it meant her daughter wouldn’t get upset. Katy had been through so much already in her short life. She deserved the security of knowing she wouldn’t lose her only remaining parent. And Abby would do whatever it took to give her child security.
Even if it meant making a deal with the devil.
Abby reached for the phone, hands shaking, and dialled Jena. “I need help,” she said by way of hello. “My family want to take Katy away from me. They’re using Flynn’s bad behaviour against me. They didn’t like my appearance on the news. I need help talking to Flynn. I need him to be on his best behaviour this week while my sister is here, assessing me.”
There was a silence for a moment. “I think you’ve already seen Flynn’s best behaviour, honey,” Jena said. “I’m not sure what else we can do.”
Abby felt tears prick her eyes. She blinked them back. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. She listened as Matt asked what Abby wanted and Jena explained.
“Give me the phone,” she heard Matt bark. “Abby?” he said in her ear. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got this. Be at Flynn’s parents’ house tomorrow morning. I’ll sort Flynn out for you.”
Before she could say a word, he hung up. Abby spent a few minutes staring at the phone. She quietly placed it in the dock and sat on the chair behind her. She really hoped Matt’s confidence wasn’t misplaced. If she lost her baby to her cold-hearted family all because Flynn Boyle couldn’t behave like a grownup for one single week, she would... She would do nothing. If they took her baby, they would take everything. And Abby wasn’t sure she’d survive long enough to exact vengeance on Flynn.
6
“I’ve had fourteen bookings this season—eight of which were my fault, but seven of which were disputable.”
Paul Gascoigne, former England national soccer player
Flynn waited until the camera crew had gone home for the night before he went round to the back of his van and bent over to open the hatch underneath it. He smiled into the darkness when he heard the tiny squeaks.
“Look who’s hungry.” He picked up the three miniature hedgehogs and placed them on the grass.
The babies were about five weeks old, as far as he could tell. He’d found them beside their dead mother one night when he’d been out walking in the woods. Well, hobbling in the woods. He wasn’t sure what killed the mother, but the babies had been mewing softly beside her, hungry and scared. Flynn had scooped them up, as he’d done with many an injured animal over the years, taken them back to his van and set up a home for them in the cabin under it. In a couple of weeks they would start foraging for their own food, but for now they still needed him.
Flynn fetched their food from his kitchen, sat on the grass beside them and hand-fed the hoglets. They would have been fine eating straight from the dish, but he needed the comfort of caring for them more than they needed the comfort he could provide. For a precious few minutes they helped him forget his life was screwed up six ways to Sunday.
“Wouldn’t it be great if everything was as simple as dealing with you guys?”
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Flynn called his agent’s number again. Professional athletes didn’t tend to keep office hours so Flynn knew there would be someone to take his call.
“I’m sorry, Mr Boyle,” the secretary said. “As I told you earlier, he’s unavailable.”
Flynn ground his teeth together as he stared out into the darkness. “He’s been unavailable for days. I keep leaving messages, but he doesn’t get back to me.”
“I’m afraid all I can do is take another message.” The woman sounded as though she’d rather boil her eyeballs.
“Great, take another message. Tell him, again, that I want him to get me out of this documentary shoot. I’ve had enough. I want it done. He needs to talk to the sports studio and break the contract.”
“No problem, Mr Boyle.” The line went dead as the damn woman hung up on him. Again.
Flynn let out a stream of curses, most of which he’d learned on the soccer pitch, and let his head thud back onto the van behind him. His agent was dodging him. Michael was right: now there were no huge contracts in his future, or megabuck endorsements, his representation had lost interest in him. If this kept up he’d have to go to London in person and camp on his doorstep until he dealt with him. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the pain in his leg spiked. Powerless. He was so bloody powerless. The injury had robbed him of his career and the respect it garnered. He’d been so used to having a voice. People fell over themselves to listen to him. Now, he couldn’t even get his agent on the phone.
One of the hoglets demanded his attention by trying to climb over his leg. Flynn smiled and helped the little guy. Life was so much simpler with animals than it was with people. Maybe he’d take the money he’d made from investing in his brother’s big brain and buy an island somewhere. He’d fill the place with all sorts of animals and become a hermit. Aye, it was a great idea. No more people. No more criticism, or whining, or bullying. No more living up to someone’s expectations or disappointing them when he didn’t. The more he thought about it, the better the idea became.
Flynn closed his eyes, listened to the noises of the night and planned a future away from it all.
???
The walls were closing in on Abby. As soon as Katy was asleep, she locked the house up tight, snatched the baby monitor and made the short walk across the corner of Flynn’s property to the stream. She knew from experience she would hear Katy perfectly from her spot by the water and could be back at her side in a moment if needed.
The darkness folded around her like a blanket. The weight of the night soothing to her nerves. Behind a copse of trees, hidden by the overgrowth, was a fallen log. Abby brushed her fingers over the worn wood. Years she’d come here to sit. First with her husband and then alone. She remembered the times she’d sat wrapped in David’s arms as they whispered their hopes for the future. He’d had such wonderful dreams. All of which revolved around having a family, something he hadn’t known as a child. He’d wanted a house full of laughing children, a thriving business, a place in the community and to love her for the rest of his life. They were simple desires, but each one infinitely precious. Remembering David’s whispered hopes brought back the gnawing pain deep in Abby’s chest. The pain that never quite left her. The one throbbing with memory.
Abby sat on the log and stared out over the water. The soothing sounds of it trickling over the pebbled bed eased her clenched muscles somewhat.