Dougie and Lucy had accompanied Stu and Mary to the hospital, our friend returning to the General Hospital for one of his once-a-month check-ups. These were visits to a spinal unit specialist regarding the variety of metal plates they’d put in Stu after his fall from the school roof. He was more machine than man, now. At least that’s what he told everybody. He’d spent the first three months in a wheelchair as he recovered, and it was a miracle he could now walk. With Stu and Mary with his consultant, Dougie and Lucy remained in the hospital gardens. I kept my distance, as best I could. I hadn’t told Dougie what I’d overheard the previous day. How do you bring something like that up? ‘Hiya, pal. Your dad’s got a stonking secret. Thought you should know.’ Their relationship was already in bits. News like this would push it over the edge. Besides which, I didn’t know what that secret was. It was clearly a whopper, judging by the hold Bradbury had over Mr Hancock.
