A Sense of Discovery(a Gripping Psychological Suspense Novel) Read online

  A Sense of discovery

  Peter Martin

  Kindle Direct Publishing

  Copyright © 2016 by Peter Martin

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  A Sense of Discovery/ Peter Martin. -- 1st ed.

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  Dedicated to my wife whose help, untiring work and encouragement made this novel possible.

  “Having a blood family means suddenly revising a definition of family that I have, over many years, learned to accept. How can I hold both concepts in my mind or find room for both families in my heart?”

  ― Soojung Jo, Ghost of Sangju .

  ―QUOTATION SOURCE

  Contents

  A Sense of discovery

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter One

  October 2004

  When the phone rang Garry groaned. He was reading a good book and didn’t want to put it down. Perhaps if he ignored the rings, it would stop. But it didn’t. On and on it kept ringing and ringing. Half-heartedly he picked the receiver up saying under his breath, ‘Who on earth can this be?’

  ‘Hello.’ he mumbled.

  ‘Garry! Garry…’ The caller whispered in a soft quivering voice.

  ‘Mum! Is that you?’

  ‘Garry, please come quickly. I’m not well. I… I’ve got a terrible pain in my chest,’ she rasped, hardly able to breathe.

  He panicked. ‘Mum, try to keep calm. I’ll call an ambulance and come straight over.’ The phone was slippery in his hands. ‘H... hold on Mum, don’t move - I’ll be there in a minute.’

  He slammed the receiver down, just missing its target in his haste, then picked it up again and dialled 999.

  Two minutes later he rushed out of the house and got into the car. His hands were shaking, but as he turned the ignition key, the car wouldn’t start. Shit! Shit! Shit, he whispered almost inaudibly. At long last after four attempts it sprang into life. God, what was the matter with him?

  With a screech of tyres, he sped off towards the main road. The early evening traffic looked bad for a Saturday.

  ‘Come on ... come on you bastards,’ he mumbled. It took an eternity to get through the traffic.

  Adrenaline and anxiety pumped through his body as the car stopped right outside his mother’s bungalow. He got out, hurrying to the front door. Breathing in deeply, not knowing what to expect, he unlocked the door and went inside.

  When he called out her name, she didn’t reply. Terrified he ran towards the living room. As he opened the door he saw her frail still body lying face down on the carpet. He heaved as if about to throw up, and for a second wasn’t sure what to do. Please no, God, he said to himself.

  He bent down and turned her delicately onto her back. Picking up her bony hand he could just detect a weak pulse. Where was the bloody ambulance, he thought in frustration?

  Five minutes later, he heard the sirens. Then came a knock on the front door which he’d left open on purpose.

  ‘In here!’

  He almost wept with relief when, what he took to be a paramedic followed by an ambulance man carrying a stretcher, entered the room.

  Quickly moving away so they could examine his mother he asked, ‘Do you think she’ll be all right?’

  ‘It’s far too early to say, her breathing is laboured and her pulse is weak. Are you the next of kin?’ Garry nodded, and as the paramedic placed an oxygen mask over the patient’s face he said, ‘We need to get her to hospital straight away.’

  Garry’s eyes smarted as he watched her being skilfully put on the stretcher and then taken to the ambulance.

  ‘Don’t worry sir, we’ll soon have her sorted out.’ The paramedic reassured him.

  ‘All right if I come with her?’ Garry asked.

  ‘Of course, sir. She’ll feel more comfortable knowing you’re with her.’

  As they drove, the paramedic sat in the back continually monitoring his patient; Garry watched, wondering if she’d survive, and felt helpless just sitting there.

  With sirens blaring and lights flashing the ambulance sped through the traffic. He held his mother’s cool hand and began to feel guilty, fearing this was all his fault. Had he neglected her? He’d been so wrapped up in finding himself another job after redundancy, his visits had dwindled. Perhaps if he’d seen more of her this would never have happened. Just before his dad died from cancer three years ago, he’d promised to look after her, but now he’d let his father down and broken that promise. What if the chance to put it right never came?

  Immediately as the ambulance came to a halt outside Dexford Hospital, the doors were opened by two medical staff who carefully placed Garry’s mother onto a gurney, wheeling her swiftly into the hospital. Garry walked alongside her until they reached the doors of Intensive Care. One of the nurses had assured him he’d be kept informed of her progress.

  Now in the quietness of the waiting room, he felt a little concerned his mother hadn’t moved a muscle since they’d left the house, and added to that he faced the task of informing the family.

  He glanced at his mobile phone and selected Delia’s number. His wife had taken their daughter Cassie and six-year-old grandson Adam out on a Saturday afternoon shopping expedition. He hoped to God she hadn’t switched off her phone.

  Luckily she answered straight away and was shocked at Garry’s news; promising to come over to the hospital once they’d dropped Adam back home and saying she’d phone Tom their son.

  He sat now in the corridor, waiting for news of his mum, trembling with dread. Every five
minutes he glanced at his watch, trying to imagine what was going on. He recalled how three months earlier in June, he’d talked about relocating with his employer from Dexford, a town about five miles from Birmingham, up north to Leeds, and had it not been for Delia’s unwillingness to move he would have done just that. Thank God she hadn’t budged. It seemed sad when the company’s plans for relocation had been announced, as he’d only been promoted to Foreman some eighteen months earlier. He’d started working for the car manufacturer at the age of seventeen after dropping out of college and had been with the company for nigh on twenty- five years. How would he have got back here to mum in time had they moved to Leeds? Better to be out of work than have her death on his conscience. He prayed the doctors would save her.

  A little time later, he looked up to see the slim figure of Delia, with Cassie, their faces tear-stained and ashen, rushing towards him. Both of them, walking easily into his arms, crushing him with emotion.

  ‘Delia, Cassie,’ he whispered.

  ‘Oh Dad, I do hope she’ll be all right.’

  ‘How is she Garry?’ Delia asked. ‘And how did it happen?’

  ‘I don’t know - she’s in Intensive Care.’

  He was just about to speak again when his attention was drawn to the nurse walking briskly towards them.

  ‘Mr Garry Flynn?’

  ‘Yes. I’m Garry Flynn,’ he glanced anxiously at Delia and Cassie.

  ‘I have some news about your mother.’ They gathered round, and she continued, ‘She’s weak, but stable and is asking for you, so I suggest you see her alone.’

  ‘All right, I’d better go to her.’

  ‘Thank God she’s alive,’ Cassie whispered.

  ‘Garry, please tell her we’re all thinking about her,’ Delia began, but he was already hurriedly following the nurse.

  On entering the Intensive Care Unit, Garry noticed three cubicles each containing a bed.

  The nurse pointed to the bed closest to the window, and as Garry got nearer he could see his mum lying quite still, her mouth and nose covered with an oxygen mask. He pulled up a chair and took hold of her hand, squeezing it lightly, hoping for a reaction, but there was none. He was overwhelmed by a feeling of foreboding and what the next few days might bring.

  He sat gazing at the still form on the bed and was surprised when her eyes flickered open. Recognition showed on her face and a faint smile indicated she was glad to see him.

  ‘Garry,’ she whispered through her mask, trying hard to lift her head from her pillow.

  ‘Please Mum, be still. Try to conserve your energy.’

  ‘I love you… so… much.’ She grabbed hold of the sleeve of his shirt, which quite shocked him. He put his hand over hers.

  ‘Love you too, Mum.’

  ‘I’m dying son… I know I am…’

  ‘No Mum, you’re not. You’ll get better, I promise you. The doctors have said you will.’

  She shook her head in disagreement. Though gravely ill, he detected no fear in her dark brown eyes, perhaps only regret that she might never see him again.

  Lifting her other trembling hand, she beckoned him closer, to hear her better through her mask.

  ‘Garry… please God forgive me… but there’s something I must tell you….’ She whispered again, her breathing erratic. A tear trickled down the side of her face. What was causing her so much concern at a time like this, Garry thought perplexed?

  ‘Don’t talk now Mum… it’ll only make you feel worse.’

  ‘But I must, this is my last chance. Your dad… we should have told you years ago, but… frightened. Got away with it… when he died... but you deserve the truth… before it’s too late.’

  He didn’t understand – whatever it was, didn’t matter. All that mattered was her getting better.

  ‘We’re not your real parents,’ she said quietly, tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes and wetting the pillow.

  ‘Mum, what are you talking about? That’s nonsense, and you know it. Please, I don't want to hear any more of this.’ He began to think she’d gone a little funny in the head.

  ‘I’m not your mum… you have to believe me… only wanted you, nothing else,’ she mouthed, the grip of her fingers on his shirt slackening as if life was draining away. Then shrinking away from him, her eyes widening with fear, she appeared to accept the inevitable saying, ‘love you so much…’ her last words before death overcame her.

  The monitor beside the bed bleeped which set off a flurry of activity around him, doctors and nurses flocked round the bed. Someone asked him to go outside while the medics tried to revive their patient – but it was futile. A few minutes later a sombre looking doctor informed him their efforts had been in vain. ‘I’m so sorry Mr Flynn; we did everything we could to save her…’

  The doctor gripped Garry’s shoulder with his hand, recognising his grief, saying, ‘Would you like to see her? She looks very peaceful.’

  He nodded, sniffing back the tears, and followed the doctor back into the ward, through to where his mother’s body lay.

  So many emotions went round in his head, including despair, guilt and acute sadness at losing his only remaining parent. And not least her final words to him which, if true, boiled down to the fact he’d been adopted.

  She looked at peace, eyes closed, hands clasped together in front of her. He took hold of her hand, still lukewarm despite her passing, and his heart overflowed with grief. He was totally devastated and couldn’t understand what had motivated her to say such a thing? And the more he thought about it, convinced him her mind must have been playing tricks on her.

  At last, he regained control, kissed his mother on the cheek one last time, before leaving her bedside.

  He made his way out of the ward in a daze. Why would she say such a thing if it wasn’t true? Surely it would have been better if her secret had died with her? The normal grieving process mingled with the information he’d just learnt sent his head spinning as he walked down the corridor. At the sound of his name, he looked up to see his wife and daughter approaching.

  ‘Dad, is she?’ Cassie began, bursting into tears at once as he shook his head.

  ‘Oh Garry, this is awful,’ Delia sighed, allowing him to slump into her arms.

  They were all in a little group crying, but added to Garry’s grief, was the uncertainty of just how true his mother’s words had been. He had to get to the bottom of it somehow – and soon.

  Chapter Two

  They walked to the end of the corridor where Garry slumped into a chair. Delia held his hand while Cassie placed her arm around his shoulder. Finally, he dabbed his face with a handkerchief, still desperately trying to get his head around what had happened. None of them could speak – all lost in their own sorrow.

  The silence was broken by Delia saying softly, ‘I wish there was something I could say to comfort you, love.’

  He sighed and shook his head. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone. I always thought she was fit and healthy for her age. Looks like I was wrong about that…’

  ‘Yes, but nobody lives forever. You did your best; that’s all anyone could ask. It will be hard, but you will get over this. I did after my mum died although it took a while. When you start your new job, it’ll help take your mind off it.’

  Aware that she was only trying to say the right things he didn’t comment. But nothing would take his mind off what had happened today, or shut out his mum’s last words.

  It was unfortunate, but he couldn’t even think about starting a new job on Monday, he’d have to explain the situation and perhaps they’d suggest an alternative starting date.

  Just then the doctor returned to inform Garry a medical certificate would be available in the morning unless he wanted to request an autopsy. Garry just shook his head to indicate he didn’t think that was necessary and recognising her husband’s plight Delia took over. ‘Come on now darling, we can’t do anything else. Let’s go home, we’ll deal with this in the morning.’


  Reluctantly he nodded and walked with them to the cars amid the cold October wind. Back at her parents’ home Cassie rang her husband Chris, and brother Tom who hadn’t managed to get to the hospital on time. Delia sat with her husband in the living room, clutching his hand. For the first half an hour or so he didn’t feel much like talking. Once he did speak, however, his happy memories poured out. Being an only child meant he’d been really close to his parents and had felt sheltered and safe. Now he couldn’t dispel the awful thought at the back of his mind that he should have visited her more often.

  Later that evening when they went to bed he felt physically and mentally drained. He’d found it terrible to witness the pain his father had suffered as cancer ravaged his body. But this, his mum’s death, had come without any warning, and that was hard to take.

  <><><>

  The funeral took place a week later, the first Friday in October. Despite it being a glorious sunny day, it was a sad affair. Delia felt for Garry, this was his last remaining parent, and he’d loved her dearly. On the surface he seemed in control, but she knew him too well, always one to hide his feelings. If only he’d let his grief surface, he might feel better afterwards.

  Tom and Cassie were also at his side, with their spouses, but Adam, Cassie’s six-year-old son, was regarded by his parents to be too young for such a sombre occasion. Delia had been first to suggest leaving Adam out of the arrangements, saying he asked too many questions for his own good.

  Garry had hardly uttered a word since getting up that morning which worried Delia. In all their time together she’d never seen him this distraught, causing her to think back to her first meeting with Doris. It would be about her third or fourth date with Garry, if you could call it that. They were aged sixteen and seventeen at the time, Garry being a year older. They’d spent most of the morning in Birmingham Science Museum, when Garry had said he was famished – nothing’s changed there – so they decided to go to the burger bar at the bottom of Corporation Street. Delia remembered someone calling ‘Garry’ and looked up to see that Garry’s face had flushed bright red. Then almost out of nowhere a small petite woman, stood in front of them, smiling up into their faces. Delia had taken to her straight away. So many years ago, but happy ones.