Paws for Alarm by Marian Babson Page B

go.’
    â€˜Did they get your wallet?’ Donna was intensely practical.
    â€˜No – they just seemed to be after blood.’ Arnold gave a shaky laugh. ‘They sure spilled enough of it.’
    â€˜Did you have to have a transfusion?’
    â€˜That’s enough, you kids,’ I said automatically, but I raised my eyebrows at the policemen, waiting for the answer.
    â€˜The doctor said it wasn’t necessary.’ The policeman’s tone hovered between reassurance and disapproval. ‘But he’s to take it very easy for a couple of weeks. Until the stitches come out.’
    â€˜Stitches!’
    â€˜Lot of damnfool nonsense,’ Arnold said. ‘I’ll be perfectly all right after a good night’s rest.’ Again he shook off the policemen and started for the stairs. He achieved two steps before he buckled at the knees.
    They were there to catch him.
    â€˜Oh, thank you,’ I said. ‘If you could just help me get him upstairs -?’
    â€˜No problem.’ They hoisted Arnold between them and lifted him up the stairs.
    I followed behind. So did the twins.
    â€˜Look, you kids, why don’t you go and watch television, or something?’
    It was useless. Real life had suddenly become a lot more exciting than television and they were not going to be fobbed off with what had become a pale imitation.
    The policemen carried Arnold into the bedroom and helped me to get him into his pyjamas. In feet, they did all the work. I nearly fell apart when they got his shirt off and I saw the extent of his injuries. If those knives had struck just a few inches closer ... if he hadn’t raised his arm ...
    â€˜The doctor said to give him two of these.’ One policeman produced a small envelope from his pocket. “Two now, and two more every four hours – but don’t wake him up to give them to him. If he’s sleeping, let him sleep through to morning.’
    â€˜And that’s another thing —’ Arnold rallied briefly, indignantly. I’m only wounded – not feeble-minded. I’m perfectly capable of taking charge of my own medication.’
    â€˜Of course, you are, dear.’ I popped one of the pills into his mouth as he paused for breath and brought a glass of water up to his lips. He swallowed automatically and I repeated the process with the second pill.
    â€˜Good old Nancy –’ He grinned feebly. ‘Flo Nightingale could have taken lessons from you.’
    â€˜And don’t you forget it!’ I pushed him back against the pillows gently. He struggled briefly, then relaxed.
    â€˜It’s good to be home –’ He caught my hand. ‘I’m glad I made it back to you, Babe.’ His eyes closed.
    â€˜I’m glad, too.’ I fought against tears. Not in front of the policemen and the twins. Later, when I was alone with Arnold, watching him sleeping ... counting his breaths ... realizing how close I had come to losing him ...
    â€˜If there’s anything else we can do -?’ one of the policemen suggested.
    â€˜No. No, thank you so much. It was good of you to bring him home.’ I led the way downstairs. ‘Is there – Is there anything else we should do? Does Arnold have to appear in court, or anything?’
    â€˜Not unless we catch them.’ Something in his voice told me how unlikely that was. ‘We’ll let you know.’ He edged towards the door.
    â€˜Fine.’ I took the hint and opened the door. ‘Thank you again.’
    That’s all right.’ They nodded and disappeared into the night.
    I had barely closed the door behind them, leaning against it for a moment to pull myself together, when the doorbell rang sharply, startling me out of what was left of my wits. I peered suspiciously through the glass. It was Lania.
    â€˜Is everything all right?’ She came into the hallway eagerly. ‘I couldn’t help noticing that you had the police