Daniel looked appalled. ‘No! I would never do that. I don’t touch people. It’s The Rule. Although . . . although I suppose I did touch you.’
Alarm bells sounded in Hannah’s head again.
‘You touched me?’
‘I had to, so I could pick you up. I’m sorry.’
‘No. No, it’s okay. The man, Daniel. Who was the man?’
‘I don’t know. He was wearing a hoodie, and the light isn’t very good by the lifts. I came home from the day centre and I saw him hitting you with a stick, and I shouted at him because you’re not supposed to hit people, and then he ran away. I didn’t see his face.’
One of the gang of lads, she thought. Most probably the one who called himself Phil, proving his manhood to his pals by showing how he wasn’t going to stand for being humiliated by a police officer, especially a female one.
‘Then I need to thank you, Daniel. You saved me.’
He looked at the floor, embarrassed. ‘It’s okay.’
‘No, really. You did a wonderful thing. Was it difficult getting me into the lift?’
He furrowed his eyebrows. ‘I didn’t use the lift. I don’t trust it.’
‘I don’t understand. How did you get me up here?’
‘I carried you.’
She stared at him. ‘What? You carried me? Up twelve floors?’
He nodded, as if it was no big thing.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘That’s impressive.’
‘Thanks,’ he said. And then, ‘What does impressive mean?’
‘It means I wish there were more people in the world like you, Daniel. You’re one of the good guys.’
He dropped his gaze to the floor again.
Hannah touched the lump on her forehead and winced, then the bigger lump on the back of her head and winced even more. She tried again to sit up, and cried out as pain fanned out across her upper body.
‘You should rest,’ Daniel advised again. ‘You can sleep there if you want. I can get a blanket and cover you up. My dad did that the other day, and it really helped.’
‘No, that’s okay. I can’t stay here.’ She looked around. ‘My things. I had a bag and some other stuff.’
Daniel held up a finger. ‘Oh. Wait. Here.’ He went to the dining table and brought back her bag and clipboard. She marvelled even more at the thought that he had somehow managed to carry both her and her belongings.
‘Thank you.’ She opened the bag and rummaged around inside for her phone, but then remembered that she’d had it in her hand when she was attacked.
‘My phone. Did you pick up a phone downstairs?’
‘No. I’m sorry. I didn’t see it. It was a bit dark.’
‘That’s okay.’ An easy thing to miss, she thought. It might have ended up in the lift or in a shadowy corner. Either that or her mugger had run off with it.
‘Do you have a phone?’ she asked.
Daniel frowned and turned on the spot. ‘Somewhere,’ he said. He scratched his head. ‘Wait.’ He went out to the hall, then returned, brandishing his mobile. He handed it to her.
It was a primitive device, designed for simplicity of use. Huge buttons rather than a touchscreen. The display was spider-webbed with cracks, and when Hannah tried depressing keys, nothing happened.
‘This is broken, Daniel.’
He looked crestfallen. ‘I know. My mum says I’m too rough with it. The answer button still works, so she can call me, but I can’t call her.’ He suddenly brightened. ‘But I think I might be getting a new one next week for my birthday. I heard my mum and dad talking about it.’
‘Do you have a landline?’
‘What’s a landline?’
‘A separate phone for the flat.’
‘No. We don’t have one of those. I’ve seen them on telly, but Mum says we don’t need one because we’ve got mobiles.’
Hannah thought about Marcel, presumably still working his way through the flats below, oblivious to his superior officer’s predicament.
‘You couldn’t do me a favour, could you? My colleague is downstairs somewhere. Probably still on the ground floor. Do you think you’d be able to go and find him for me?’
It was clear from the way Daniel began rubbing his face that he was agonising over the request.
‘I’m not supposed to do that,’ he said. ‘I’m not supposed to leave the flat after I get home. And Mum and Dad don’t like me talking to strangers.’
