Tea & Biscuits

Beth didn't know it but he came every day for a week. He couldn't explain why he did it, he just needed to know she was OK, safe.

After some discussion with the Ward Sister, there was an arrangement for him to visit outside of normal visiting hours. He wanted to be discreet and avoiding the general public was the best way.

Sometimes he would sit by her bed, reading while she slept. When she was restless he sat nearer the door to avoid distressing her with his presence. After all, she didn't even know who he was and he couldn't bear the thought of distressing her further.

The Sister told him they would be reducing Beth's sedation on his last visit, because the Police couldn't wait much longer before speaking with her.

Sitting by the bed, he took her pale hand in his and gently looked at her face, bruised and bandaged. It occurred to him he didn't know what she looked like under all of the mess.

He left a get-well card by the bed and left, quietly. Although he thought Beth was unaware of him, subtle changes in the room were filtering into her mind. A male fragrance, the warmth of his hand... the feeling of being watched over.
This sense of a safe and reassuring presence would come back to her in the weeks to come and she wouldn't be able to explain why.

*****
The following day Beth woke up to pain the like of which she had never felt before. Her face ached, her nose didn't feel right and she coughed up blood for the first half an hour.

Beth gave her statement to a female Police Officer, what she could remember of that night. It had reassured her to know that Steve was in custody and would remain there. The Officer had mentioned counselling, support groups...terms that went over Beth's head. She had left a card with the words 'Women's Aid' and a telephone number in red ink.

Alice Lewis had hardened her heart in the week since the incident. She was angry, vengeful and didn't know what to do with the feelings that were welling up inside her. But on this day, she softened because Beth needed her to be the same caring mother she had always been.

Alice walked into the room and gently hugged her daughter. Pulling up a chair, they talked for the first time and cried together.

'Who's Alan?' Beth asked, when there was a lull in conversation.

'Alan is the man who found you Beth...' Alice's eyes clouded at the memory of the police introducing her to the man who helped her daughter and hearing him recount the incident.

'He is a very nice person. He has visited you I think. One of the nurse's told me'.

'He left me a card....' Beth lifted the Get Well card and handed it to her mother. On the front was a picture of a Cala Lily, hand-drawn and lightly coloured. Inside, in neat, angular writing the words 'Get well soon Beth' and signed simply 'Alan'.

'I want to see him Mum... to say thank-you' Beth looked at her mother.

Alice smiled. ' He will be pleased to see you on the mend. He was very concerned about you. We all were. I will call his secretary and let him know, he left me her number'.'

Later that day, a man carrying a small bunch of daffodils and a packet of chocolate digestives knocked on the door of Beth's room.

Beth drowsily lifted her head from the bed, pushed herself upright and called for the person to come in.

The man opened the door and closed it again before turning around and Beth had a fleeting thought that he looked like Alan Rickman.

'Hello Beth' Alan smiled and walked towards her, placing the flowers and biscuits on the locker beside her.

Beth's jaw had dropped and she speechlessly stared at him for a full minute until she finally sputtered

'Fucking hell....Alan Rickman!'.

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