Letting out the Worms: Guilty or not? If not then the alternative is terrifying (Kitty Thomas Book 1 Sue Nicholls (best short books to read TXT) 📖

night’s congealing mugs of coffee on the coffee table, and scrolled through his messages while Megan headed for the kitchen in search of food, calling out ‘Do you want cereal, or toast?’

‘Neither.’ Lucas replied, and at his tone she popped her head back into the room.

‘I’ve got a raft of missed calls and text messages,’ he said. ‘My Dad needs picking up from the garage. Apparently, his car broke down last night, poor guy.’ He scrolled down further and took a sharp breath. ‘And Kitty’s been in an accident.’ He threw his phone down. ‘I have to go.’

He ran upstairs and put on yesterday’s clothes, weighing up whether to ignore his father and go straight to the hospital.

Back in the living room, he snatched up his phone and called Mick. ‘Hi Dad.’

‘Hello son. You OK?’

‘Not great. Kitty’s in hospital.’ Lucas looked up as Megan came in bearing two mugs of tea. She set one down and gestured at it. The handle warmed Lucas’s hand and he nodded his thanks and took a gulp. On the phone there was silence. ‘Dad, are you still there?’

‘What happened?’

‘Not sure exactly. A motor accident, I think.’

‘Is it serious?’

‘I haven’t heard. I’m going as soon as I can, but you need a lift, don’t you?’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll grab a taxi. You get to the hospital and let me know how she is.’

Lucas let out a relieved breath. ‘Thanks. I’ll call when I can.’

‘OK. Stay safe.’

Megan was sipping her tea, her face tender. ‘Don’t rush off without chanting,’ she pleaded, ‘It will give you the knowledge to do what’s best for Kitty and her family, and it will help her too.’

All Lucas wanted was to get to Kitty. ‘This isn’t the time, Meg. We can chant later.’

She gave him a determined look. ‘Five minutes. It will help, I promise.’ She pulled open the double doors to the dining room and Lucas swallowed his frustration, telling himself that if he was serious about this Buddhist journey, he should take the advice of his composed and loving girl.

‘OK. Five minutes.’

He sat beside her, and she banged her bell. Their voices merged in morning prayer, and in the drone of words Lucas concentrated on the advice Megan had given him: to seek his innate best self and listen to his chanting. As the minutes passed, the tension flowed from his body, replaced by a sense of peace and, yes, happiness. Somehow, he sensed that Kitty would be fine.

Megan turned to him. ‘OK?’

‘Much better, thanks. I don’t understand why, but ...’

‘Keep me post...’

He was already galloping down the drive to his car.

In the packed hospital car park, Lucas monitored the slow progress of a late middle-aged couple heading for a grey Mazda. The woman leant on the man; her enormous, bandaged legs borne on tiny swollen feet. In his car, Lucas crawled towards them and stopped nearby, his heart and mind calm from his chanting. The man helped his wife into her seat and passed her the seat belt. After climbing in to join her, he started the engine and put the car into gear.

A cruising car approached from the other direction and Lucas flipped on his indicator to show his intention. To his relief, the driver smiled, nodding, and drove on. As Lucas manoeuvred into the vacant spot, he thought, Thank you, Universe.

The rain held off, and as he jogged to the entrance of the A & E department, he checked that he had his wallet and phone to hand. After stating his purpose to the receptionist, he sat beside a man holding a pad of red-stained gauze to a wound on his knee. The sight took Luc back to an incident in his early childhood - something fixed into his memory by adrenalin. Soon after the breakup with Mum, when Dad was not used to single-parenting and neither were his children, Mick decided to take Lucas and Olivia for a day in the forest. The trip was a disaster from the first, awkward moment - the last moment being when Lucas tumbled from a tree and gashed his inner thigh. At the memory, he rubbed his hand over the spot where he still carried a faint scar. Recollecting the incident from the point of view of maturity, he realized that his childish tears had been not only for the blood that spurted from his cut, but also from fear. Fear that he could not have expressed it at the time. Fear that his security was under threat. Fear that his single dad could not look after him and hurt because his mum had no time for him, preoccupied as she was with her restaurant. Glancing sideways at the injury of his neighbour, Lucas experienced a hollow echo of those young feelings. To distract himself, he picked up a car magazine from a nearby table, and after about half an hour, a smiling nurse tapped his arm. ‘You can go into your friend’s room now,’ she said, and directed him to a side room where Kitty lay amid the bleeps and pulses of various monitors, watched by Paul and Sam from opposite sides of the bed.

 Lucas shook hands with Paul and hugged Sam, who clutched him for just a few seconds longer than usual. There was not a spare chair, so he took up a position at the foot of the bed and stared in horror at his almost sister. ‘She looks dreadful. What happened?’

‘They think it was a hit and run,’ Sam said. ‘She hasn’t spoken.’ His voice broke as he said the last word, and he swallowed.

Lucas dragged his eyes from Kitty. ‘I’d have been here earlier but I had my sound off. Then I had to ring Dad. He wanted a lift.’

Paul looked up. ‘Couldn’t drive himself?’

‘Broke down last night, I think.’

Paul nodded. ‘I