Free The Wire in the Blood by Val McDermid Page B

she’d expected, based on her past experience with male sporting heroes. Nor, even more surprisingly, was he wallowing in self-pity. Micky’s visits might have started out as cynical self-interest, but within a very short space of time she was sucked in, first by her respect for his stoicism, then by an unexpected pleasure in his company. He might be more interested in himself than in her, but at least he managed to be entertaining and witty with it.
    Five days and four visits later, Jacko asked the question she’d been waiting for. ‘Why do you keep visiting me?’
    Micky shrugged. ‘I like you?’
    Jacko’s eyebrows rose and fell, as if to say, ‘That’s not enough.’
    She sighed and made a conscious effort to hold his speculative gaze. ‘I have always been cursed with an imagination. And I understand the drive to be successful. I’ve worked my socks off to get where I am. I’ve made sacrifices and I’ve sometimes had to treat people in a way that, in other circumstances, I’d be ashamed of. But getting to where I want to be is the most important thing in my life. I can imagine how I would feel if a chain of circumstances outside my control cost me my goal. I guess what I feel for you is empathy.’
    ‘Meaning what?’ he asked, his face giving nothing away.
    ‘Sympathy without pity?’
    He nodded, as if satisfied. ‘The nurse reckoned it was because you fancied me. I knew she was wrong.’
    Micky shrugged. It was all going so much better than she’d anticipated. ‘Don’t disillusion her. People distrust motives they can’t understand.’
    ‘You’re so right,’ he said, an edge of bitterness in his voice that she hadn’t heard there before, in spite of the ample reason. ‘But understanding doesn’t always make it possible to accept something.’
    There was more, much more behind his words. But Micky knew when to leave well alone. There would be plenty of opportunity to broach that subject again. When she left that day, she was careful to make sure the nurse saw her kiss him goodbye. If this story was to be credible, it needed to leak out, not be broadcast. And from her own journalistic experience, gossip spread through a hospital faster than legionnaire’s disease. From there to the wider community only took one carrier.
    When she arrived a week later, Jacko seemed remote. Micky sensed violent emotions barely held in check, but couldn’t be sure what those feelings were. Eventually, tired of conducting a monologue rather than a conversation, she said, ‘Are you going to tell me or are you just going to let your blood pressure rise till you have a stroke?’
    For the first time that afternoon, he looked directly into her face. Momentarily, she thought he was in the grip of fever, then she realized it was a fury so powerful that she couldn’t imagine how he could contain it. He was so angry he could barely speak, she realized as she watched him struggle to find the words. At last, he conquered his rage by sheer effort of will and said, ‘My fucking so-called fiancée,’ he growled.
    ‘Jillie?’ Micky hoped she’d got the name right. They’d met briefly one afternoon as Micky had been leaving. She had the impression of a slender dark-haired beauty who managed sultry rather than tarty by an inch.
    ‘Bitch,’ he hissed, the tendons on his neck tensing like cords beneath the tanned skin.
    ‘What’s happened, Jacko?’
    He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his wide chest expanding and emphasizing the asymmetry of his once perfect upper body. ‘Dumped me,’ he managed at last, his voice thick with anger.
    ‘No,’ Micky breathed. ‘Oh, Jacko.’ She reached out and touched the tight fist with her fingers. She could actually feel the pulse beating in his flesh, so tightly was his hand clenched. His rage was phenomenal, Micky thought, yet his control seemed in no real danger of slipping.
    ‘Says she can’t cope with it.’ He gave a grating bark of cynical laughter. ‘She can’t cope