Widow in White

Chapter Twenty: Locked In

Perhaps Laura fainted. It seemed that one moment she was lying on the cold floor of the cellar with her head spinning, and the next Neil was patting at her cheeks, speaking to her. The sounds resolved into words. He was swearing. She moved, and he spoke again.

"Where are you hurt? Is it bad?"

Her head ached. She wished Neil would go away.

"Talk to me," Neil said. "Laura, say something."

"Go away."

He did not go away. He fumbled his way down to her wrists to feel her pulse. "Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?"

"I don't know." Wincing, she tried to sit up. Neil had to help her. Her head pounded and spun. She took shallow, hesitant breaths of air through aching lungs.

"What are you doing here?" she rasped.

"I heard you scream," Neil said. "Followed you into the woods and saw that man with the knife. I didn't dare come closer while he was close enough to hurt you, so I followed from a distance, but I lost you at the clearing, or I would have stopped him sooner."

There was a shadow of guilt to his voice. Laura wondered if Neil realized if he'd been a few minutes later, she would probably be dead. Another time, perhaps, she would tell him that. Right now, her throat hurt to speak, and her heart hurt to think of it.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Neil asked.

"Everywhere," Laura said. "Let me stand up."

Her legs were weak, so Neil half-lifted her to her feet. Her head was still dizzy and throbbing. Her chest was tight where Fordham had stood on her, and she was bruised on her side where she'd fallen down the stairs. Her neck ached where he'd strangled her, and there was a sticky, stinging spot at one side where he had cut her. But there was no ache inside, no pain in the belly or between her legs, and Laura felt, with relief, a little flutter of movement low on her left side. Perhaps the baby was protesting at its treatment.

"I think I'm alright," she said.

"We'll get you home and to a doctor," Neil said, letting her go and limping stiffly up the stairs. He stopped before the rim of light coming through around the edges of the door and pushed. The door did not move. He pushed again, harder. Flakes of dirt fell from the ceiling. Then he stopped. "I'm afraid we're locked in."

Laura gave a choking little laugh. Neil came back down the short flight of stairs and stopped before her. He was still limping.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm just fine."

"You're limping."

"Bastard kicked me in the knee. You're the one I'm worried about. What did he do to you?"

"Strangled me, mostly." Laura shuddered and her ribs protested. "Then he stopped. I think he had second thoughts. But he wants to kill me."

Her voice quavered. Neil put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently.

"I won't let him hurt you."

What happened next was later rather embarrassing to Laura, and probably very embarrassing to Neil too. She clung to him. He was very much taller than her and very lean, so it was not very comfortable. Her hands were a bony lump between them, and one of the buttons of his coat pressed hard against her eyebrow. Nor was she crying, which might have excused it. She was simply clinging. Neil made no attempt to remove her, but his arms dangled by his sides for a long moment before it seemed to occur to him to wrap them around Laura. That was better. That gave Laura the strength to, after a moment, break away from him, swallowing hard. Then Neil slipped out of his coat and held it out for her.