Winner Takes It All by Karen Mason Page B

city far more than she did. She so wanted to berate him,
remind him that her grandmother was just as working class as he
was, that her great grandfather Mick was a poor Irish man who’d
spent most of his life serving others; that she wasn’t some rich,
chinless wonder. But she needed Jack too much to risk upsetting him
and decided to remain silent.
    Jack’s base was a penthouse flat
in a development in the Albert Dock. It was a beautiful warehouse
type apartment with high ceilings, original brick walls and a
balcony that looked out over the Mersey. He made Alex a drink and
they settled in the small office he’d put in on the mezzanine
floor. The flat was very tastefully decorated and although Jack
prided himself on being the working class man made good, he
obviously had big aspirations.
    They set up the laptop
and Alex logged onto the website where she’d seen the designer she
intended to use for the hotel. They specialised in traditional
designs, using wood and brass. Alex wanted an Edwardian feel to her
hotel, with old fashioned fittings, etched glass and rich carpets.
Too many hotels these days felt like airport lounges.
    ‘ Isn’t it a
bit quaint?’ Jack asked. ‘Would you be thinking so quaint if this
was London?’
    ‘ There you go
again!’ she spat. ‘That fucking chip on your shoulder.’
    She was interrupted by
the phone ringing. With a sigh, she got her mobile from her bag and
when she saw it was only Julie, her stepmother, she felt tempted to
ignore it. Much as she loved Julie, she normally only rang when
juicy gossip was on offer. Alex then thought again, she needed time
out from Jack before she hit him!
    ‘ Hi Julie,’
she said.
    ‘ Alex,’ Julie
sobbed. ‘Alex can you come home? It’s your dad.’
    Alex’s blood ran
cold.
    ‘ What’s the
matter with daddy?’
    ‘ They think
he’s had a stroke. Please come home Alex, he’s in the Chelsea and
Westminster Hospital.’
    ‘ I’ll be home
as soon as I can. How bad is he?’
    ‘ He’s
unconscious. Oh Alex I’m so scared.’
    ‘ Just hold on
Julie. I’ll be right with you.’
    She ended the call and
found herself shaking.
    ‘ What’s the
matter?’ Jack asked.
    ‘ It’s my dad,’
she uttered. ‘He’s had a stroke. I’ve got to get back to
London.’
    Numb with shock, Alex
stood up and stumbled around, not quite sure what she was doing.
Jack got up with her, gripping her by the shoulders to steady
her.
    ‘ Do you want
me to drive you to Lime Street?’ he asked.
    ‘ Yes. Yes,
please, thank you very much.’
    Leaving her laptop
behind, Alex grabbed her bag and coat and practically ran out to
Jack’s car. She could feel the tears prickling her eyes and fear
gripping her heart but she was unable to cry. She adored her father
and refused to entertain the thought that anything serious could be
wrong with him. It probably wasn’t even a stroke, it was probably
just his angina. He’d suffered with that for about ten years and as
normal Julie was making a big fuss over nothing. Strokes happened
to old people and Christian was only fifty six.
    Jack drove at speed all
the way back up to Lime Street Station and ignored her protests
that she could cope on her own. He followed along behind her as she
stumbled around, looking for the ticket office, even though it was
staring her in the face. Realising Alex was too shocked to do
anything, he took the lead, striding over to the booth, with Alex
wandering behind him.
    ‘ Can I have a
ticket for the first train to London mate?’ he asked the man behind
the counter.
    ‘ Trains to
London are suspended,’ the elderly man said. ‘There’s a tree on the
line just outside Runcorn.’
    ‘ How long will
it take?’ Alex cried.
    ‘ Sorry luv, no
idea.’
    ‘ Well what am
I going to do?’
    ‘ Wait and see
what happens.’
    Alex couldn’t take this.
Liverpool may have only been two hundred and fifty miles away from
London, but it may as well have been the moon. All she wanted was
to be with her