‘That little shit.’
‘Don’t worry. I took him by surprise when he came sprinting out the door.’
‘You caught him?’
‘I sure did. He’s handcuffed to a post. He’s not happy at all.’
‘I’d say that’s an understatement. Help me up, please.’
She took his outstretched hand and stood gingerly. Outside, she inhaled deep breaths, trying to clear her lungs of the filaments of insulation she was sure she’d swallowed.
Barney Reynolds, in a navy Adidas tracksuit, was standing by her car, while Oscar was angrily attempting to free himself from the post, chafing his wrists on the ties.
‘What are you doing with Oscar?’ Barney Reynolds came towards her.
The siren of the approaching ambulance shattered the air. Lottie pushed past Reynolds, momentarily wondering why he was there, and peered into the car. Sharon was curled up on the seat, a garda jacket wrapped around her. She looked like death.
‘Oh Sharon, what did he do to you?’ Lottie felt her own pain pale to insignificance as she took in the girl’s fearful eyes and laboured breathing. Sharon remained mute. ‘Ambulance is here. They’ll take good care of you.’
‘Don’t tell M-Mam.’ Her lips were as white as her face.
‘I have to tell her, sweetheart.’
Behind them, the ambulance parked up and the siren died. As a paramedic leaned in to check Sharon, Lottie backed away and zeroed in on the boxing coach.
‘What are you doing here? Do you know Oscar?’ she asked.
Reynolds ignored her first question, flapping his hands, flustered. ‘I don’t know him as such. He joined the club a while back, but he didn’t like it. Why is he tied up like a turkey?’
‘He’s about to be charged with assault.’
‘Assault? Who did he assault?’
She turned around so he could see the streak of blood matting her hair. ‘Me for starters. Why are you here, Mr Reynolds?’
He shifted from foot to foot. ‘I have a storage unit for gym equipment in that building over there.’ He turned and pointed to a block behind him. ‘Needed to pick up a punchbag, not that I have to explain myself to you. Saw the lad struggling with that guard.’ He backed away. ‘You seem to have it all in hand, so if you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry. I only came over to see if I could help.’
I’m sure you did, Lottie thought as he rushed off across the courtyard. She turned to see Sharon being lifted onto a trolley. She squeezed the soft flesh of her hand in reassurance.
‘You’re going to be fine, Shaz.’
Sharon closed her eyes slowly, as if the effort of keeping them open was too much for her.
‘Will she be okay?’ Lottie asked the paramedic – Louise, according to her name badge.
‘Blood pressure is dangerously low.’
Before she pulled the restraining strap across Sharon’s waist, the paramedic lifted the girl’s top to check where the blood was coming from. That was when the full extent of her wound became clear.
‘Good Lord.’ Lottie’s hand flew to her mouth, a reflexive action. ‘That’s deep.’
Louise called over the second paramedic and they worked quickly to staunch the blood with a dressing. When they were satisfied, they speedily set up an IV before raising the strap further up the girl’s chest and drawing a blanket to her chin. Then they wheeled the trolley onto the hydraulic lift.
As the vehicle drove off, blue lights flashing and siren blaring, Lottie silently prayed that Sharon would be okay. She couldn’t imagine visiting Liz to tell her that her last remaining child hadn’t made it.
Another shriek of sirens alerted her to the approach of a second ambulance. ‘Ah no!’
She looked around for her colleague. ‘Garda Lei? I told you to cancel that ambulance.’