Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4) by Mel Sherratt Page B

on.
    ‘I would have clouted you with this if I’d had it near me,’ she said, rising it an inch from the floor.
    ‘I’m not sure what I would have done if you had,’ Lewis admitted.
    She glared at him for a moment, then, seeming to relent, she handed back the envelope. ‘How about you do me a favour instead of giving me this?’ She pointed to her garden. ‘I do my best to keep everything tidy but I struggle with those hedges. I don’t have any family to help, so I don’t suppose …?’
    Lewis looked at them. It wouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours to cut them down to a decent size. He glanced up at the clear sky. It was perfect weather for it and it would give him something to do.
    ‘Unless you’re too busy in your day of causing trouble?’ the woman added with a sly grin.
    ‘Lewis’s brow furrowed. ‘Why are you letting me off?’
    ‘Because you came to make amends. I see people for what they are and not for what they do. Sadly, most people aren’t like me.’ She looked up at him, despite being two steps above the level of the path. ‘Besides, it’s not my car.’
    Lewis grinned. He’d been wondering about that.
    ‘Well, I suppose it will pass a few hours away,’ he said.
    ‘Perfect.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’m Elsie, by the way.’
    ‘Lewis. Lewis Prophett.’
    ‘Well, Lewis Prophett, once you’ve finished the hedges, perhaps I can persuade you to run the mower over the lawn and we’re quits.’
     
     

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    Of all the wards that Megan Cooper helped to keep tidy on her shifts at the hospital, number twelve was her favourite because of the variety of people she got to see. It was a holding bay for emergency patients who needed surgery for injuries caused that day. Once the operations were done, patients were either discharged or moved to a more specialised ward for further treatment. It was also her last ward to clean before she went home for the day.
    The ward was mixed, with beds segregated for males and females, fitting six in a bay. She turned the corner into the first bay, mopping the floor as she went, her tiny frame lugging the cleaning trolley behind her. There were three patients that morning. To her right, two elderly men were sitting in chairs beside their beds chatting to each other, their arms waving around as they spoke. She tried to work out what was wrong with them but there didn’t seem anything obvious. They looked too well to be in hospital but she knew that people could change in an instant on this ward as they were being monitored.
    On the other side of the bay, sitting on top of the covers in the middle bed, was a man that looked familiar, although Megan couldn’t think why at first. Even though he was scowling, she could tell a smile would light up his face if he ever let it. He didn’t look too much older than her nineteen years; she would bet his spiky black hair wouldn’t usually look so messy too. He wore pyjamas, his legs crossed at the ankles, new slippers on his feet. His right hand was lying on top of the covers, a bandage around it. In the other, he held a newspaper. He dropped it to the bed as he caught her eye.
    ‘Hi, there.’ Megan smiled broadly. ‘I think I remember you from school. It’s Sam, isn’t it? Sam Harvey?’
    ‘Yeah.’ His eyes narrowed.
    ‘I’m Megan, but you probably won’t remember me as I was a couple of years below you, I think. Did you have a sister? Keeley or something like that?’
    ‘Keera?’
    Megan nodded. ‘How are you feeling today?’
    ‘Like someone has tried to rip my fucking hand off.’
    ‘Oh, dear. What happened?’
    ‘Had an argument with a chainsaw.’
    ‘Euw.’ Megan grimaced.
    ‘It’s not that bad!’
    ‘It’s never that bad, you see?’ She smiled. ‘Do you need an operation?’
    ‘Had one last night.’
    Megan continued to mop the floor as she saw Sue, one of the staff nurses on duty, walking towards them. She hoped she wouldn’t get into trouble for chatting,