Free First and Only by Peter Flannery Page A

this? ’
    ‘Then there’s the loan for the
research costs…’
    Steve’s heart was pounding in his
chest. ‘ He knows what this means to us… He knows what this will cost us. ’
    Steve’s hands withdrew from his
throbbing temples; the joints of his knuckles cracking ominously as they
tightened into fists.
    ‘The car will have to go back… We
won’t be able to get Sally to school…
    ‘ How could he do this? ’
    ‘Steve, what are we going…?’
    ‘I don’t know!’ shouted Steve
and, lashing out, he punched the half-open door.
    Even in the grip of angry
frustration Steve knew that something was wrong. His awareness had registered
two sounds, two impacts… His fist denting the solid wood of the door and then,
a fraction of a second later, a second impact. And there had been something
else… the tiny, choked off whimper of a little girl.
    Steve stood there, frozen to the
spot, as Christine moved past him to open the door.
    There, lying insensible on the
hall carpet, was Sally their five-year-old daughter. There was blood on her
face and her perfect little nose looked misshapen and nudged to one side.
    ‘Oh God!’ whispered Christine
kneeling down beside her daughter.
    ‘Oh Christ!’ breathed Steve as he
looked down on the two people who meant everything in life to him.
    Sally stirred as Christine bent
to check on her. She tried to open her eyes but her left one would not open,
the previously unblemished flesh starting to redden and swell.
    ‘Lie still baby,’ said Christine
as Sally began to cry.
    ‘Steve,’ said Christine in a
voice of cold necessity. ‘Get me a damp cloth and the first aid kit from the
kitchen.
    As a trained nurse Christine knew
what to do but Steve just stood there. Years of combat and training to deal
with crisis situations had not prepared him for this.
    ‘Steve, a cloth, please!’ said
Christine in that same harsh tone of control.
    Steve started towards the
kitchen.
    ‘And phone for an ambulance,’
Christine called after him. ‘I want to get her checked out.’
    Steve grabbed the first aid kit
from the kitchen cupboard and rinsed a clean cloth under the tap. ‘ Oh my God ,’
he thought. ‘I’ve put my daughter in an ambulance… my little girl… Oh my
God! ’
    Steve’s vision was blurred with
tears as he made his way back to the hall. He handed Christine the first aid
kit and cloth then went back into the living room to call for an ambulance.
‘They’ll be here in a few minutes,’ he said in a hollow voice when he returned
to the hall.
    Sally had stopped crying but she
still snivelled and moaned while Christine tried to keep her from getting up.
    ‘Is she okay?’ asked Steve. The
paralysis of shock was starting to leave him and he went to crouch down beside
Sally but Sally recoiled from him in confusion and fear and Steve backed away
in dismay. He had never had a reaction like that from his little girl before.
But until now he had never given her reason to fear him, never given her reason
to doubt his love.
    ‘Just leave her,’ said Christine,
her tone softening a little as she nodded Steve back towards the living room.
    Feeling more lonely and worthless
than he ever had in his life Steve went and sat in his comfortable living room.
He listened to his wife’s gentle voice as she soothed and reassured their
daughter. He listened as the ambulance arrived and Christine briefed the
paramedics on Sally’s condition.
    ‘I think she’s okay,’ Steve heard
her say. ‘But she did lose consciousness and she’s complaining of a sore neck.
I didn’t want to move her…’
    ‘You did exactly the right
thing,’ one of the paramedics told her as he bent down to examine Sally. ‘Now,
what happened?’
    Steve had passed through the
brutal psyche evaluation of the SAS selection process, where would-be recruits
are placed under severe psychological stress to simulate what they might
experience during interrogation by the enemy. Psyche week was notoriously
difficult to