There's No Accounting For Love

Chapter Twenty Four

There was a knock on Alan's office door and Angie walked in, her face a picture of horror.

"Oh, Alan. Clare's mum's been on the phone. Clare's had an accident and had to go to Casualty."

"What's happened now?" asked Alan raising his eyebrows. He pushed his calculator aside and put down his pen.

"She's fallen down the stairs and cut her head. She's had eight stitches and she's also hurt her ankle and her wrist. Her mum says she's covered in bruises and she's got two awful black eyes."

"What?" muttered Alan.

"It's not fair, is it?" spluttered Angie. She threw herself down onto the chair at the desk, rested her head on her arms and began to cry.

Alan rose from his chair and went to her. He patted her arm and gave her a fresh handkerchief to wipe her eyes. "Look, she'll be okay. Kathy's there and..." Alan was so shocked by what Angie had said, he couldn't continue.

"I'm finding this really hard." said Angie looking up at him wide eyed as she dabbed at her face. "Everyone thinks I'm tough, but I'm not. I loved Hal, he was so lovely and I've never had a friend die before. This is all new to me."

"We're all finding it hard." said Alan.

Angie rubbed at her nose with the handkerchief. "Clare's still not eating or sleeping and she fainted when she came down the stairs, that's how it happened. I don't know what to do now. What do we do?"

"Well, we're in this together, you and me." said Alan, frowning. "I'll pop round to see her tonight and tell her not to worry about coming back next Monday, she obviously won't be well enough. Bob will understand. He said only yesterday, did I think she'd be ready."

True to his word, Alan visited Clare that evening and was standing now at Clare's front door saying goodnight to Kathy. Kathy looked very tired and strained, which was not surprising after all she'd been through.

"Thanks for coming round Alan." said Kathy "Clare has been worrying about going back to work, so I'm sure you've set her mind at rest."

"Anything we can do to help and you only have to ask." said Alan. "I'd better get off, I need to get to the Off Licence before it closes."

"Goodnight then, Alan." said Kathy.

"Goodnight. And make sure you take care of yourself." Alan replied.

He walked down the garden path and waved to Kathy, who then closed the front door. He went along to his car and opened the door. He climbed in, grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and sighed deeply. Seeing Clare this evening, covered in bruises and with two shiners had pulled at his heart-strings. He knew now he was falling in love with her. And when she had cried such bitter tears of anguish he had known, without a doubt, that he could love no other woman.

He felt shattered and stunned. Had he been a six year old, he would have said an invisible alien standing in the room had zapped him with a stun gun. That's the effect it had had on him. This was so strange, seeing Clare looking so hurt, both physically and emotionally and yet here he was, feeling this way. Was there something wrong with him? He wondered if he was human. Perhaps he was the alien?

Alan made his way to the Off Licence in his BMW, desperate for a bottle of whiskey. This was something else, he'd never thought he would fall for anyone again, but here he was falling for Clare and it felt so odd. He was guilty and confused. Clare was after all a widow, a very new widow and in deep grief. Surely this wasn't right? But seeing her tonight was akin to being hit by a ten-ton lorry. What was he going to do?

Clare hated Americanisms. She'd said so to him this very evening at some remark he'd made. But nevertheless he knew what he was and the thought made him smile. He was a 'Heel'. It was lower than a bum, for obvious reasons.

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