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*Author's note: Well, this is my second fanfic. I was amazed that I got a few nominations for awards, so thanks to everyone who nominated me! I didn't make it into the finals, but that's okay. Well, this is one weird story. It's taken me over two weeks to write, and is really long, but stick with it! There are some real juicy bits in it! Not romantic though, I can't stand writing romantic stories! Please tell me what you think of my story, e-mail me at sydneygirl2b@hotmail.com . So, enough of my yack, enjoy the story!
Disclaimer: Hey! My dolls! Nuts, it's Christmas Hal! Why can't you be nice and let them stay with me in New Zealand for a holiday? Sure, Rachel's Jewish and celebrates Hanukkah, but it's Christmas! Oh, come on! Please? Hmph. Well, Hal, your Rachel doll took one heck of an emotional beating here, and a bit of a physical beating too, and maybe what happened to her in the story is why she's so unlucky in love? Haha, you'll have to read it, because I'm not telling you anything else. I don't own them, sadly, I'd buy them if I wasn't stone-broke! And I take no responsibility for the mischief those two get up to, the brands and stuff they mention, and basically, you can't sue me, so there. And, McDonalds, I'm giving you a promotion here, even though I don't know who you are and am not affiliated with you, I'm always open to gifts of McChicken Supercombos.
Warning: This has got naughty, naughty language in it, mostly from the naughty female detective. You've heard it all before though, so you shouldn't get too warped by what you're about to read. And if you don't like graphic descriptions of bruised knees, don't read the first part of it, okay?
***** An Ape In The Sydney Opera House By Nikki Kirk *****
Rachel threw herself on top of Grant Hemmingway as he tried to escape. He'd
murdered his neighbour's daughter a week ago, and was now being arrested.
Hemmingway fell to the ground with an almighty thud, Rachel grazing her knee as
she skidded along the concrete, still holding onto his suit jacket with both
hands. Frank ran up and jumped on him. "Hands behind your back! HANDS BEHIND
YOUR BACK!!!" Frank yelled in Hemmingway's ear as Rachel picked herself up,
brushed her black suit jacket and black short skirt off, and picked a piece of
gravel out of her now-bleeding left knee.
"You okay Rach?" Frank asked, having cuffed Hemmingway.
"Yeah, just fine." Rachel replied, grabbing Hemmingway's jacket and yanking him
towards the light green Magna that the detectives used as a police car, and
often chase vehicle.
Rachel shoved Hemmingway into the car, smacking his head on the car doorframe.
"Ouch!" Hemmingway protested.
"Ooh, I forgot, watch your head." Rachel said bitterly, going around the back
and thumping on the boot as Frank got in the car.
Frank popped the boot, not saying a word, and Rachel rummaged around in the boot
bad temperedly to find the first aid boot. "Shit, where is it!" Rachel said,
grimacing as she looked down to see her blood dribbling down her leg onto her
expensive new shoes.
Rachel suddenly spotted it, diving into the boot to get it. "SHIT!!!" she yelled
as she hit her head on the boot as she grabbed the kit.
"Rach?" Frank asked, stepping out of the car to go and see what had happened.
"This is all your bloody fault Francis Holloway, if you'd tackled him I wouldn't
be hitting my head on the bloody boot with a bloody, bloody knee!" Rachel yelled
at Frank bitterly.
Frank didn't say a word, pulling a large plaster out of the First Aid Kit,
wiping up the blood running down his partner's knee with cotton wool. He dabbed
dettol onto Rachel's knee, ignoring the swear words eventuating out of Rachel's
mouth at the sting of the liquid, then gently placing the plaster over her wound
and standing up to meet a look that could kill.
"Are you two finished?" Hemmingway yelled from in the back seat of the car.
"Shut up Hemmingway." Rachel snarled as she got into the passenger seat, wincing
as she moved her leg a bit too much.
Frank shut the boot after replacing the kit, and looked shocked when he saw that
Rachel wasn't driving.
"What? You mean I get to drive this time?" Frank asked Rachel as he plopped
himself into the driver's seat, ignoring another deadly look from his fellow
detective.
"Shut up and drive Holloway." Rachel hissed, looking totally peeved by the turn
of events, and of course, it had to be a Monday.
*****
"Rachel! You okay?" Helen looked concerned as Rachel walked in, trying not to
limp.
"Fine." Rachel mumbled, dragging Hemmingway up the stairs by his collar, with
Frank trailing along like a lost puppy behind them.
"Sit." Rachel said, shoving Hemmingway into a chair in the interview room.
"Rach, do you want me to do this?" Frank asked, noticing Rachel's dishevelled
hair and bloodstained leg.
"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good." Rachel looked gratefully at Frank and walked out,
with all the attitude she could muster.
"Rachel, what happened?" Helen interrogated Rachel as she walked with her into
the ladies' room.
"I tackled Hemmingway, in a bloody short skirt. Grazed my knee. Nothing serious
Helen, just hurts." Rachel replied, soaking a paper towel and cleaning up what
Frank didn't back at the car.
"You sure you're okay?" Helen asked, rummaging around in Rachel's purse, then
producing a comb.
"Yeah." Rachel sighed, taking the comb from Helen and running it through her
dark hair.
"Okay then." Helen said, patting Rachel on the shoulder, and walking out.
Rachel shoved her comb back in her black leather bag with force, and wiped up a
stray bit of eyeliner.
*****
"Rach, he confessed." Frank said happily as he bounced back into the office,
seeing Rachel sitting at her immaculately organised desk doing some paperwork.
"Great." Rachel muttered in reply, not looking up.
"Guys, got some work for my two favourite detectives." Helen breezed into the
office and leaned on the doorway.
"There's an armed robbery in progress at McDonalds down on Bond Street, we
suspect that it's the guy that robbed those people down at the marina. Can you
guys attend?" Helen asked the pair.
"Yeah, we'll be right there." Rachel said, grabbing her bag and standing up with
a wince.
Frank walked out of the door behind Rachel, after giving up the car keys. Rachel
smirked and trotted down the stairs, ignoring her pulsing left knee.
*****
"Okay, we'll wait for reinforcements, then go in." Rachel informed Frank as she
stopped the car in an alleyway near the takeaway outlet.
"Sounds good to me!" Frank said, pulling his gun out of the holster, hearing the
sound of sirens.
A woman started screaming from nearby, and Rachel leapt out of the car with
Frank right behind her. She yanked her gun from under her jacket, and moved
cautiously onto the main road. Seeing the suspect through the window with his
back turned, Rachel kicked the door open, hitting it against the stopper with an
almighty bang, which shattered the glass in it. "Drop your gun! Drop it! DROP
YOUR GUN!!!!" Rachel roared at the gunman who was now facing her, his gun aimed
at her chest.
The gunman hesitated as he heard Frank burst in the rear door, realising he had
no way out. The gunman turned around and grabbed a young man in his twenties
wearing a grey suit, pressing a gun to his temple. The gunman turned to Frank,
and glared at him. At that moment Rachel leapt forward, silently as a cat,
pushed his hostage to the floor, and kicked the gunman's hand which was a metre
off the ground. The gun flew onto the white linoleum as Rachel tackled the
suspect, slamming him onto the floor with force. Frank ran forwards and
handcuffed him, as Rachel again picked herself up, rubbing her poor knee which
had just had another encounter with the ground.
*****
Rachel stood leaning against a uniform police car, sipping a free Coke from the
manager of McDonalds, when the young man approached her. "Thanks." The young man
said to Rachel, looking a bit shaken.
"Anytime." Rachel grinned at him.
"Look, I'm Francis Cassidy, a journalist with the BBC, and I was wondering if...
well...." He began.
"Yeeeeessssss......." Rachel prompted him.
"Well, I was wondering if I could possibly do an article on you and your
partner? I mean, it'd be an inside look on your professional lives, what you
have to do, what you're faced with, and I wouldn't get in your way...." He added
quickly when he saw Rachel's face turn from interested to totally uninterested.
"Look, you'll have to ask the boss. Inspector Jeffrey Hawker at the Sydney Water
Police Headquarters.
"I'm not sure how keen he'd be on the idea, but if you really want to do this,
call him and see what he thinks, okay?" Rachel said to the young journalist,
noting his admirable enthusiasm in his job.
"Okay, I'll think about that. Thanks." Francis said, shaking Rachel's free hand,
and walked off with the waiting "uniform" to make a statement.
Frank walked over to Rachel, who was now deep in thought leaning on the car.
"Rach? Earth to Rachel Goldstein? Oi! Rachel..." Frank chuckled as Rachel
snapped out of her daydream and glared at him.
"What?" She snapped.
"We can go now. Keys?" Frank asked, holding out his hands, hoping that Rachel
was so out of it she'd let him drive.
"Yeah.... Eh? Get stuffed Holloway! I'm driving!" Rachel snatched the keys back
out of Frank's reach.
Frank grimaced. He'd been that close! The pair walked back to the car, Rachel
still deep in thought about the journalist's proposal.
*****
Rachel turned over in bed, grimacing as she opened one eye to find sunshine, the
drinkers' enemy. Last night she'd obviously had way too much to drink at
Cutter's. She uttered a strangled squawk as her alarm clock began to ring
uncontrollably, and threw it across her bedroom where it hit her wall with a
loud thud. Tuesday. Great. Tuesdays were always fun. Not. Rachel pulled herself
out of bed and stumbled over to the door. She wandered out to the kitchen and
put the kettle on, then banged her knee on the bench - the one she'd hurt
yesterday. "Ow! Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!!!" Rachel yelled, grabbing
her knee and hopping back to her bedroom.
She hastily drew back the curtains, and peeled the plaster off gently to see why
the heck it was hurting so much. She saw why immediately. Her whole knee had
turned an ugly olive green-ish navy-ish purple. "Bloody hell." Rachel muttered,
hopping into the bathroom and pulling a packet of plasters out of a draw. She
groaned as she found that there were none left. Oh well, it wasn't bleeding, it
just looked really bad, besides, the plasters were way too small to cover this
thing. She went back into her bedroom to get changed, not bothering about going
back into the kitchen to make a coffee, it was already 8.15pm and she was
running late. "Trouser suit.... What the hell?" Rachel pulled out her last
remaining trouser suit to find it had ice cream on it.
Frank. He'd bought an icecream on Friday. Then they became involved in a
high-speed chase, and while going around a corner, Frank's ice cream had come
loose from the cone, then fell onto Rachel's jacket. Great. So Rachel grumpily
yanked out her favourite light blue skirt suit, got changed, and rushed off to
work.
*****
Rachel walked into reception with half the station staring at her multi-coloured
knee. "What?" She snapped at them, and quickly the station was back to it's busy
little self.
Helen stared at Rachel's knee for a second, then dragged her upstairs to the
ladies'. "Helen? What are you doing? It's fine." Rachel protested, wincing and
uttering a yelp as she bumped the bruise against the doorframe to the bathroom.
"Why on earth didn't you put a plaster on it? Or at least wear a trouser suit?!"
Helen complained loudly, ferreting around in the vanity unit, then producing a
large bandage.
"Helen! Oh, come on, it's fine!" Rachel muttered, as Helen bent down to put it
on Rachel's knee, like a mother fixing up her child.
"It'll get infected if you don't keep it covered." Helen grumped, gently putting
a cotton wool pad onto the bruise, then beginning to wrap the plaster around
Rachel's slightly swollen left knee.
Rachel moaned, and stood there feeling totally useless, being fussed over by
Helen.
*****
"Good morning! Am I late?" Frank waltzed into the office with a large cheesy
grin on his face. Rachel looked up, acknowledged his comment with a glare, which
meant, "Yes, where the hell were you?" then went back to reading the Sydney
Times. "So, what happened to ya knee?" Frank asked Rachel, pointing to her leg
which was resting on a chair with a coldpack resting on her bandaged knee.
"It's just bruised. Helen should be a bloody nurse." Rachel grumbled, poking at
the cold pack with a long, tapered index finger.
"Oh. Helen's influence eh?" Frank grinned, remembering the time when he'd cut
his hand on some glass and Helen had fussed over it like it could have been
fatal.
"Yep." Rachel sighed, going back to finish reading the paper.
Frank laughed and popped back downstairs to see if Helen had any jobs for them
to do.
"Anything?" Frank asked as he jumped off the bottom step.
"Well, actually, yes. Jeff wants to see you and Rachel. And Frank?" Helen looked
at Frank's tie-less shirt.
"Yeah, yeah." Frank muttered pulling his tie out of his pocket and putting it
on.
"Good." Helen smiled sweetly at Frank as he trotted back up the stairs to go and
collect his partner, then went back to her filing.
"Goldie? Jeff wants to see us." Frank poked his head around the doorframe to
their office.
"Okay, be there in a sec." Rachel mumbled, gently removing the coldpack off her
knee, and slowly standing up, gingerly testing her foot on the ground to see if
it hurt.
Rachel smiled, relieved, and followed Frank into Jeff's office.
Rachel and Frank looked a little shocked when they walked in to see Francis
sitting in a chair in front of Jeff's desk.
"Ah, Frank, Rachel. You two know Francis Cassidy?" Jeff asked the pair as they
stood near the door, staring at him asking for some kind of explanation.
Rachel looked at Frank. Frank looked at Rachel. Rachel looked at Jeff. Jeff
looked at Rachel. Jeff looked at Frank. Frank looked at Jeff.
"Yes..." Rachel said slowly.
"Good. Then you know he's a journalist then? He's going to be doing an article
for television about your work." Jeff explained, giving the pair a look that
said this was not negotiable.
"Uh huh." Frank said, then looked at Francis.
"Well, I expect you two to be helpful, co-operative, and polite while he's here.
Is that clear?" Jeff asked, giving an annoyed-looking Rachel a warning look.
"Yeah." The detectives muttered in unison.
"What was that?" Jeff asked, wanting a 'yes' out of the both of them.
"Yes, sir." They both muttered again in unison.
"Good. Mr. Cassidy, if you have any problems with these two, come and see me.
"Will do, sir. Thank you." Francis grinned a sweet-as-sugar grin at the
Inspector.
Rachel turned and walked out of the door quickly when Jeff nodded at them to
show that they could go. Frank was close behind her, and Francis wasn't far
behind him. The three walked into the detectives' office, and stood staring at
each other awkwardly for a minute or two.
"Look, I know you two obviously aren't very happy with this arrangement. I just
want you to know that I'm going to start filming tomorrow, alright? And I'll try
not to get in your way." Francis spoke up.
"Correction. You won't get in our way." Rachel said slowly, emphasising the
'won't.
Frank just sat down, looked at the others with a goofy grin on his face, then
went off to make some coffee.
*****
The rest of the day went past in a blur. It was all normal stuff. Filing, then
checking out a property on the waterfront which had been broken into, then
rescuing a bo
at that had blown its engine. Frank and Rachel managed to leave
early after bribing Jeff with a chocolate bar.
The next day, Rachel drove to work with the radio on full blast to try to drown
out her thoughts. She wasn't going to tell anyone, but she hated being on TV.
She'd been on TV once before for a news item, and she had hated it. She'd have
to cope though, orders were orders.
*****
Helen was sitting at the desk in reception looking hassled as Rachel walked in,
still limping slightly. "Are they here?" Rachel asked Helen quietly, only to
find that she needn't have asked, a camera flew around the corner at the second
she said a word and ended up shoved in her face.
"Oh, Francis, come 'ere." Rachel muttered to Francis, back in the grey suit.
She latched onto his collar and led him around the corner, pushing the camera
away as it tried to follow. "Look, if you're going to film this thing, I'm not
having that damn camera shoved in my face every time I MOVE!" Rachel said
bitterly, gritting her teeth.
"Okay, okay! I get the hint. We'll take long shots of you and zoom in then."
Francis said, looking scared and eager for a compromise.
"Whatever, but if that thing comes anywhere near me, I'm going to shove it down
the soundman's throat." Rachel hissed, pushing the camera away again as it
swooped in for another shot.
Rachel let go of his collar, and stomped her way up the stairs, not caring if
the camera was following her or not.
*****
Frank jumped as Rachel came into the office and slammed the door in the
cameraman's face.
"Got mugged at reception did we?" Frank grinned, the same thing had happened to
him earlier.
"Yeah. Got any cases yet?" Rachel asked, plonking herself down into her chair,
grinning as she noticed that Francis was talking to the cameraman about filming
her.
"Yeah." Frank replied.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"You reckon?"
"Yeah."
"Well?"
"Um, well, a girl's been found half dead on Manly Beach. Helen wants us to
investigate, they reckon there's foul play involved --she was found half-naked,
poor thing!" Frank explained.
"Great. We get all of the best jobs don't we?" Rachel sighed, grinning as she
noticed the cameraman give up trying to get into the locked office, and stood
outside the window holding the camera.
"I'm sick of them already, are you?" Rachel had just had a brilliant idea.
"Yeah." Frank replied.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Okay then." Rachel walked across to the window, and yanked on the cord which
shut the venetian blinds, waving a sweet little goodbye to the cameraman as he
went out of sight behind the white metal bars, turning on her heel, and plonking
herself back down at her desk.
Frank grinned, and picked up his coat. "Well?" Frank stood up.
"Well what?" Rachel inquired, frowning as she picked up a stray piece of paper
and put it gently into an impeccably organised draw.
"Are we going? They're gonna get mad at us if we take too long." Frank grinned.
"Oh, yeah, yeah, right." Rachel muttered, standing up and unlocking the door.
Immediately the cameraman was shoving the camera in their faces. "Francis. Come
here." Rachel grumped, beckoning the young journalist with a boney index finger.
Frank and Francis, walked over to her. "Not you Holloway, Cassidy." Rachel
hissed.
"Oh, right, gotcha." Frank muttered.
Francis walked over to Rachel, looking like a puppy who'd just pooped where he
shouldn't. "Francis. What did I tell you about this documentary? I told you that
if you and the cameraman get in the way, there'd be trouble. So, we're going out
to where a girl has been found, half-naked, and we want you to stay out of the
way, and not film anything embarrassing for her, alright?" Rachel grabbed
Francis by the collar, and bored into his eyes with her laser blue eyes that
looked as if they were about to shoot out laser beams that would cut through
concrete.
"Yep, yeah, sure. Will do. Okay then. No worries." Francis muttered and scuttled
off downstairs, dragging the cameraman with him to go and get the company car.
Rachel smirked at Frank who was standing staring at her flabbergasted. "You're
mean." Frank laughed suddenly.
"Mmmhmm. I know." Rachel grinned in return.
*****
Pulling up at the crime scene, Rachel looked in the rear view mirror to see if
she'd lost the camera crew. No such luck, they were right behind them, already
jumping out of the vehicle and pulling out expensive-looking equipment. "Great."
Frank groaned, putting on his shirt the clip microphone Francis had given him,
and looking over to the huddle of emergency crews where a blood-spattered figure
was emerging on a stretcher.
"Oooh, poor thing." Rachel winced as she remembered the pain she'd been in when
she'd been stabbed chasing a suspect in a faked passport inquiry. That was a
year ago now, and she was almost totally recovered, having almost died.
*****
Rachel shook herself out of it and walked over to the ambulance crew who were
loading the girl into the ambulance. "She gonna be okay?" Rachel asked one of
the crew.
"Dunno yet, she's conscious though. That's a good sign." The young man said,
looking slightly worried.
"Ta." Rachel nodded her head and went off to join Frank.
*****
"Senior Detective Rachel Goldstein." Rachel flashed her badge at a tough-looking
cop that was guarding the scene.
The guy nodded, and Rachel ducked under the tape to find blood-soaked sand and a
sickened partner.
"Jeez, what an animal. Looks like she was raped and thrown on here. No drag
marks, so it looks like she was either carried or pulled out of a waiting
vehicle. No tire marks though, so I think she was carried over here." Frank
explained to Rachel who sighed and looked away from the blood-coated sand,
noticing the camera crew standing on the road.
"Hmm. Any ID?" Rachel muttered, writing down the details.
"Yeah, Petra Elizabeth Bayhurst, 19 Coles Road, Campbelltown. She's just turned
16 yesterday." Frank replied, reading the details in Petra's wallet.
"Great birthday present. Any estimated time she got dumped here? And who was the
informant?" Rachel remarked, grimacing at the thought of what the poor kid went
through.
"Around about 4am and the informant was the lady over there with the dog; she
was taking an early morning walk at about 7.30a.m. she said." Frank replied,
pulling his ringing mobile out of his trouser pocket.
Rachel nodded. "Holloway." Frank answered.
"Yeah, Frank, it's Helen. Just wondering if you could go see the girl's parents,
don't like doing it on the phone, it's better in person." Helen said, shuffling
something around in the background.
"Yeah, the girl's on her way to hospital now, we'll go tell her parents, then go
to the hospital and see how she's doing, okay?"
"Which one's she been taken to?" Helen asked, swearing as she dropped a cup or
something and smashing it on the floor with a loud bang.
"RPA." Frank replied.
"Okay then. I'll tell Jeff." Helen hung up.
"You lot finished with us?" Frank asked the group.
"Yeah." Came the mumbles in reply.
"Great. Rachel, we're off to tell the parents." Frank prodded his partner in the
ribs with his elbow.
"Eh? Since when were you in charge Holloway? I'm the one that's meant to be
giving the orders. I tell you what to do, not the other way around." Rachel
looked crossly at Frank.
"Yeah, so why don't you make the orders then?" Frank picked a fight, regretting
it as soon as Rachel glared at him.
"Fine. We're going to go to Campbelltown and we'll inform the kid's parents,
okay?" Rachel hissed at Frank, feeling the PMS kick in.
"Yeah, sounds good to me." Frank grinned sweetly and innocently at Rachel as she
turned to storm off to the car.
*****
"Cassidy! Get yer butt over here!" Rachel snapped at Francis.
Francis looked absolutely terrified, wondering what he'd done, or what he was
about to do wrong.
"Right, Frank and I are going to inform the victim's family, and we don't want
you there to film them and make them feel worse than they will without you
there. Okay? This is private, not for the whole world to know about." Rachel
said slowly and clearly, making sure that every word got absorbed into his
selective brain.
"But Rach... uh, Detective Goldstein, I really need this to do the story."
Francis said slowly, making sure it sunk into her stubborn brain.
"Yeah, well, you'll get another opportunity later on, maybe with a murder where
someone's been decapitated." Rachel said sarcastically, feeling totally pissed
off at this pushy, yet wimpy, little squirt of a journalist.
"Okay then." Francis said, backing away slightly as he saw the bad-tempered,
sarcastic, disagreeable detective's eyes turn to laser beams.
Rachel opened the driver's door and got in, honking at Frank, who was chatting
up a female uniform officer at the crime scene. Frank sprinted up to the car and
jumped into the passenger's seat. "Okay, we can go now." Frank grinned at
Rachel, ignoring the look of disgust she gave him.
Rachel slammed her foot on the accelerator, and the car shot out onto the road
like a horse that had just been stung in the butt by a bumblebee.
"Jeez, you're
cranky today! What's up?" Frank asked, holding onto the sides of his seat for
dear life.
"Shut up Frank. Nothing's up." Rachel growled, hoping there was chocolate in the
glove box.
"Chocolate?" Frank asked, pulling one of Rachel's secret stash of chocolate bars
out of the glove box, reading her mind.
"Thanks." Rachel had to grin, Frank knew her too well.
*****
"Mrs Bayhurst? I'm Senior Detective Rachel Goldstein, and this is my partner,
Detective Frank Holloway. Can we come in? It's about your daughter, Petra."
Rachel said quietly as the panicked-looking woman stood at the door, obviously
thinking the worst.
"Yeah.... Yeah, sure, uh, come on in...." Mrs Bayhurst stuttered, looking more
afraid by the minute.
"What's happened? Where is she? Is she okay?" Mrs Bayhurst said quickly,
ushering the detectives into the lounge and motioning for them to sit on her
lovely, light blue lounge suite.
"She's going to be fine, but she's in hospital. She was stabbed sometime this
morning in her abdomen; the estimated time of the attack was around 5am. We also
have evidence that suggests strongly that she was raped." Frank began, as Rachel
stood up and comforted the now-crying mother.
"Where... (sniff)...where is she?" Mrs Bayhurst wept quietly.
"She's in theatre at the Royal Prince Albert Hospital." Frank replied.
"We'll drive you there now if you like, we're just about to head off there and
see if she's awake yet." Rachel offered.
"That's very kind of you, that would be great." Mrs Bayhurst said gratefully,
pausing to blow her nose.
Rachel and Frank stood talking as Mrs Bayhurst locked up the house. "You reckon
she'll be able to cope with this? Petra had pretty massive injuries..." Frank
asked Rachel as quietly as was humanly possible, watching Mrs Bayhurst's
reflection in the hall mirror locking up the back door.
"Yeah, she'll be worse if she doesn't see for herself that she's going to
survive." Rachel mumbled back, jumping slightly as her mobile phone abruptly
interrupted the silence.
"Goldstein." Rachel answered.
"Yeah, Rachel, it's Helen. Look, Petra Bayhurst has just woken up, you should
get over and see her soon." Helen spoke, sounding a bit agitated with Jeff
yelling at Woodsie in the background.
"Yeah, thanks Helen, just about to head over there with her mother." Rachel
replied, smiling reassuringly at Mrs Bayhurst.
"Okay. Bye."
"Bye."
Rachel hung up the mobile phone and put it back in her pocket. "We ready?"
Rachel asked, then led the way out to the car after getting a nod in reply.
*****
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