The Broken Man Part 27

As he swung himself over the wall, he caught his foot in a deep crevice between the boulders. Propelled forward out of control, he tumbled headlong down the rough, slippery bank until there was nowhere to go but into the murky waters below. He tried desperately to keep himself from going under, but the harder he struggled, the quicker the waters seemed to cover his head and draw him down.

Being some distance ahead, Adam had no idea that Jim was in trouble, though he wondered why he'd given up the chase.

Jim had been yelling for him every few minutes but now there was only an eerie silence. Adam was puzzled, but somewhat relieved.

Stopping to catch his breath, he smiled to himself. Jim wasn't as fit as he thought. But something felt wrong. It wasn't like Jim to give up.

In the short time he'd been with the family, Adam had grown close to Jim. He knew his ways and, knowing them, he now grew uneasy. Jim's family were everything to him. If Jim thought he'd hurt Alice, he would never give up. So, Adam thought, Jim had either found a different route and he was planning to waylay him at the other end or, for whatever reason, he had decided to let Adam go. But that idea didn't feel right to Adam.

Now convinced that Jim was in trouble, he stuffed his travel bag between the knotted roots of an ancient tree, then he ran as fast as his legs would take him. He carefully retraced every step and kept his eyes peeled at every turn.

When he got to the ca.n.a.l, he saw that the boulders had been disturbed, and the earth was stripped in a jagged line from the boulders to the water. He suspected Jim might have slipped.

'Jim, where are you? It's Adam. Answer me!' he shouted.

On hearing a weakened cry from somewhere beneath the ca.n.a.l bridge, he swiftly ripped off his jacket and shoes, and eased himself into the water. Straightaway he caught sight of Jim. Visibly s.h.i.+vering, and badly bleeding from the head, he was desperately clinging to an overhanging branch, which was too thin to hold his weight so he might climb out, but it was st.u.r.dy enough to help him keep his head above water.

'Hold on ... don't let go, I'm here.' Adam swam to him. 'I'll get you out, but you'll have to trust me. All right?'

Jim nodded. He was never more relieved than when he saw Adam approaching.

'Don't worry, we'll get you out, Jim,' Adam continued to rea.s.sure him, though he soon realised it would not be easy. It was obvious that if he were to go for help, Jim would not have the strength to hold on. 'There's no time to go for help, but you'll be all right ... I promise. I'll get you out.'

Going under the water, Adam discovered an even more desperate situation than he'd feared. Both of Jim's legs were badly tangled in a ma.s.s of thick, binding weeds. Also, judging by the gaping wound and the peculiar angle of a jutting bone, his left knee appeared to have been broken in the fall.

Coming up for air, Adam was concerned to see Jim drifting in and out of consciousness. 'Stay awake, Jim. You have to stay awake!' he yelled. As gently as he could he explained that the weeds were tangled round both his legs, and that his knee appeared to be broken.

He saw the despair in Jim's eyes. 'I will get you out,' he promised again, 'but you have to help me. It's going to hurt, but I need to free your legs. You must try to stay awake!'

Growing weaker, Jim was concerned for Adam. 'Leave me,' he said. 'Go for help!'

Grabbing the collar of his jacket, Adam yelled back, 'There's no time! I won't leave you here to die, like a drowned rat!'

Cold and weary, Jim could hardly keep his eyes open.

'Keep awake, Jim. Hang on. You can do it, I know you can.' Smacking Jim's face, Adam hardened his voice: 'Jim! Don't make me ashamed of you!'

When Jim smiled at his last remark, Adam felt a huge surge of relief. 'You have to trust me, Jim. I need to release you from the bindweed, and then we'll work together and get you out of here. OK?'

Jim gave a curt little nod, then he laid his head on the crook of his shoulder, and watched as Adam slid back under the water.

Adam quickly set about loosening the bindweed that was tightly coiled about Jim's legs. It was a long and laborious task, but eventually the legs were free. With the removal of the bindweed, the broken knee was now hanging open.

From above the water line he could hear Jim screaming in pain as the dead weight of the lower leg seemed to be tearing the knee apart.

Adam came up for air, before going back down.

Breaking off some lengths of the drifting weeds, he loosely plaited a makes.h.i.+ft bandage. Tying one end above the knee, he wound the bandage down the leg, to secure the other end around Jim's ankle. That done, he drew the two ends together as far as was possible without actually bending the leg until the gap in the knee was made smaller, thereby taking away the drag of the lower leg.

Jim's agonised cries told Adam it was a painful procedure for him to bear, but he urged Adam on.

On surfacing, he could see the pain etched in Jim's face. 'I'm sorry,' he said, but there was no time for explanation.

Hauling Jim out of the water was the most difficult part of all.

Hoping that someone might be walking the fields, Adam cried out for help, but no one came so the task of heaving Jim onto the bank was left to him alone.

Little by little, Adam managed to get him onto the upper bank, where the two of them lay side by side, totally exhausted, with Jim slipping in and out of consciousness.

Jim's knee was a real concern. When he'd got his breath back Adam knew exactly what he had to do next.

'I'm going for help.' Adam threw his jacket over Jim's wounded knee. 'I'll make you safe so you don't fall down the bank ... I'll be as quick as I can.' With Jim lying prostrate, eyes closed, and his breathing unsteady, Adam was beginning to fear the worst.

'No ...' Jim raised his hand. 'Please ... help me ... up!'

Adam refused, but Jim was in such a state that Adam feared if he didn't somehow take him from there, Jim would try to follow and end up in the water again. With Jim so determined, and no time to argue, Adam reluctantly decided to help him up.

The farmer's wife was at the kitchen window, when she saw two figures struggling up the field.

Alerting her husband, who went outside to check the strangers, she continued watching from the window.

She then followed her husband out, and the two of them watched in amazement as the boy continued towards them, part supporting, part carrying a man. They both looked to be in trouble.

Realizing the emergency of the situation, they began running towards the boy.

Adam saw them coming. 'We're all right,' he said to Jim, who made no reply. By now, he was too far out of it.

Bent double with the weight of Jim, Adam was hardly able to stagger on, but seeing the couple hurrying towards them gave him renewed strength as he pushed himself forward. He'd promised Jim he would get help, and he had kept his promise.

When the farmer took some of the weight onto himself, Adam was close to collapse, but between the two of them, they managed to get Jim to the house, where they laid him on the big oak table in the kitchen.

In the front parlour, the farmer called the ambulance while his wife tended to Jim, who was slightly delirious and making little sense.

Adam bent to tell him, 'You'll be all right now, Jim. The ambulance is on its way.'

Adam had given Jim's name and address to the farmer, urging that he should call Liz, and the farmer went quickly away to make his calls.

A short time later, after Adam was rested and Jim was made more comfortable, Adam whispered in Jim's ear, 'I need you to know, I did not hurt Alice.'

Not yet fully conscious, Jim seemed not to have heard.

Deeply unsettled, Adam sat on the bench outside the farmhouse door for a while. His every bone ached, and his heart was heavy. What to do now?

He thought about going to see his dear friend, Phil. Then he wondered if he should see Liz. But Alice had put a bar between him and the family, and knowing he would not be welcome, he quickly dismissed that idea.

So, while the attention of the farmer and his wife was on Jim, Adam decided it was time to leave.

He did not say goodbye, nor did he linger for them to ask questions. He simply walked away, and kept going until he found a good spot from which he could think.

His plan was to collect his bag and make his own way in the world.

He did not plan on going back to the children's home. Nor did he feel comfortable returning to the family who had taken him in. The family he had come to love.

He thought of Alice, and he was sorry it had turned out the way it had. But thinking back to Phil's earlier explanation, he understood how she felt about his being here.

Now, though, it was time to leave all that behind, and move on.

More importantly, it was time to leave the boy behind, and become the man.

Again, he thought of Phil, and decided to contact him at the first opportunity.

Now, though, for what seemed an age, he sat down on the gra.s.sy bank some distance away from the house, just watching and waiting.

When finally the ambulance arrived, he stood up to see the ambulancemen bring Jim out on a stretcher.

Satisfied, he gave the whisper of a smile, and reluctantly turned away.

In the ambulance, Jim constantly asked for Adam, but no one knew where he was. No one had seen him leave.

All they knew was that the boy had saved the man's life, and now he was gone.

The ambulanceman questioned the farmer's wife as to the boy's condition. She told how the boy was completely exhausted and in considerable pain when they took him in, but that he was given a hot drink and some clothes that had hung in the wardrobe since her husband was a young man. The boy had changed into them, and seemed much easier in himself. He was not injured as such, but he was very concerned about his companion. 'When we told him the ambulance was on its way, he was greatly relieved,' she said.

When the farmer had called Liz and explained the situation, she was shocked, but as the ambulance was already on its way she decided to head straight to the hospital.

When the ambulance doors were closed, ready for departure, the farmer and his wife could still hear Jim calling, 'Adam ... where is he? Where's the boy?'

By then, though, Adam was long gone.

It took a deal of searching before Adam located the tree under which he'd left his travel bag. He was devastated when he discovered that the bag was gone.

With his bare hands, he dug deeper into the roots of the tree, but it was definitely not there, and he was in pieces.

For a long time, he sat on the ground, rocking back and forth, thinking of Jim, hoping he would be all right. He thought of Alice and the way of things.

When he crossed his arms over his knees and the tears began to fall, it was not because of the small amount of money he'd lost. It was not for Alice, nor the lost bag, and it was not even for Jim, whom he believed was safe now.

His bitter tears were for the loss of his mother's precious locket.

It was the only part of her he had left. And after all he'd been through this was the hardest loss to bear.

Emotionally and physically exhausted, he curled up beneath the tree. It was not long before he drifted into a deep, troubled sleep.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

IT WAS LATE when Liz got home from the hospital.

Maureen had managed to get the children to sleep at long last, but was so tired herself, that she'd fallen asleep on the sofa.

On hearing the key in the front door lock she leaped up, desperate to know that Jim was all right.

Liz looked haggard. 'His knee was badly damaged,' she revealed, '... his leg was in a shocking mess.'

'But will he be all right?' Maureen was very fond of the family; it pained her to see their suffering.

'They operated, and the doctor said it went well, but that there was a long way to go yet,' Liz explained. 'Jim had lost so much blood, they had to give him a transfusion. He's sedated now and they seem pleased with his progress. I wanted to stay, but the doctor said he would be out of it for quite a time, and it wouldn't hurt for me to come home and get some sleep. They promised to call me if I'm needed.'

Maureen thought Liz was right to come home. 'I'm sure they would have let you stay if they were unduly concerned about him,' she said. 'And anyway, if you don't mind me saying, you do look like you need a good night's sleep.'

Liz didn't argue with that, though she was more concerned about the children. 'Have they slept?' She recalled how upset Alice was at the awful business of Adam running away, and her daddy having to go into hospital. 'I've been troubled about Alice,' Liz quietly admitted. 'I hope she didn't get herself in a state again after I left. Did she?'

'Well, Harriet went to sleep straight after her milk, and she hasn't woken since. But it took Alice ages to get to sleep, and even then she kept waking up and coming down ... getting herself upset all over again. In the end, I lay in bed with her until she went to sleep. She kept saying it was all her fault that her daddy nearly died and Adam ran off.'

Liz was surprised. 'How can it be her fault? Unless it was that business with Adam hurting her.'

'That's exactly what I thought,' Maureen said. 'But I told her that even though he got her daddy to safety, it still did not excuse what Adam did to her. I said it was not her fault, and she should never think that.'

'You're absolutely right,' Liz agreed. 'I will never be able to thank Adam enough for getting Jim to safety, but then again, if it hadn't been for Jim chasing after him because of what he did to Alice, Jim would never have got hurt in the first place.'

When Liz sank into the nearest chair, Maureen went off to the kitchen to make them each a cup of cocoa. 'It'll help you sleep,' she told Liz.

Upstairs, Alice had got out of bed and was sitting at the top of the stairs. She'd been waiting for her mother to come home. She needed to see her. To know her daddy was all right.

Just now, she'd overheard the conversation between Maureen and her mummy, and she felt afraid. She returned to her bedroom. There was something important that she needed to do.

Liz and Maureen were sipping their drinks when Alice came into the room. 'Is Daddy all right?' she asked her mother tearfully. 'He won't die, will he?'

Liz ran across the room and led Alice back to the chair, where she told her sincerely, 'No, sweetheart, Daddy's not going to die. He's had an operation, and he has to stay in hospital for a while, but the doctor told me that he should be all right. It might take a long time, but he'll be fine.'

When Alice burst into tears, she kissed her on the forehead. 'Listen to me, Alice,' she said, stroking her face. 'None of this is your fault. If anything, I'm sorry to say, it's Adam's fault, because if he hadn't hurt you, Daddy would never have been chasing him.'

'Maureen said Adam saved Daddy and got help for him. Did he do that, Mummy?'

'Yes, sweetheart, he did. Daddy told me that he was in a bad way. He was trapped in the water and badly hurt, but Adam managed to get him to safety, and we should all be very grateful for that. But I will not forgive Adam for what he did to you, because that was a cowardly thing.'

'But it's all my fault, Mummy!'

'No, sweetheart. None of this is your fault. Adam did a bad thing when he hurt you. When he ran away, Daddy went after him to bring him back, to explain what he had done, and why. But Daddy was hurt. It was not your fault, and you must never think that.'

Liz was surprised when, without a word, Alice got off her knee and went away upstairs.