by Alec Birri
Adams paused before answering. ‘No, I mean the accident you had here.’
‘But I’ve been unconscious for six months.’
Adams glanced at Tracy. ‘No, you haven’t.’
Dan dropped his head back towards the pillows, so Tracy withdrew her arm. He stared at the wall opposite. ‘There’s something seriously wrong with me, isn’t there?’
The two medical professionals nodded. Dan felt nothing. It was as if emotions were something that could be used up and he was now on empty.
‘Take me there,’ he said.
The doctor picked up Dan’s chart and made an entry. ‘Could you arrange that please, Tracy?’ He looked at his watch. ‘It’s one o’clock – you may as well take the squadron leader for lunch at the same time. I’ll meet you both there shortly.’
He left the room and Tracy walked over to a hoist in the corner. ‘Do me a favour, Dan, press your buzzer – we’re going to need some help.’
Dan turned to his left and did as he was told. The bedside clock caught his eye. It still read eight-twenty-six in the evening. ‘Even that’s broken,’ he muttered.
‘God, I hope not. I don’t mind shifting you up the bed on my own, but I draw the line at lifting you out of it.’
‘No, I meant the clock – it’s broken.’
Tracy seemed puzzled, and was about to say something when the door opened. ‘Ah, Mike, can you give me a hand?’
Within a few minutes, the two nurses had Dan up and into a wheelchair.
‘Do you want a blanket for your knees?’ Tracy asked.
Dan shook his head.
‘Are you sure? We don’t want to risk making a spectacle of ourselves again, do we?’ She nodded towards his groin. Mike put a hand over his mouth and left the room. Laughter trailed away down the corridor.
‘You’ve told everyone, haven’t you?’
‘No,’ Tracy said with fake innocence. ‘I’ve only mentioned it twice – once to Mike and once to the rest of the nursing staff.’
‘God, I hate you.’
‘No, you don’t, and we both know why.’ Breasts pressed against the back of Dan’s neck as she kissed the top of his head.
Tracy pushed Dan out into the corridor and parked him there. He found himself looking into the room opposite. The movement of the wheelchair caught the occupant’s eye who took hold of a handle above his bed to get a better view.
His arm was bare, and straight away Dan noticed injuries similar to his own – heavy scarring with much of the flesh and muscle either damaged or wasted. Dan guessed they were about the same age, but burns to the other man’s face made him look much older.
The occupant presented a toothless smile. Dan ran his tongue over his own teeth to make sure they were still there. The poor guy was missing a leg too, which made Dan feel both sorry for his neighbour and better for himself at the same time. A pang of guilt ensured Dan understood there were still people in this world worse off than him.
Tracy pushed her patient down the corridor. They approached a couple of hospital porters, who grinned at them both before bursting into fits of laughter as they passed.
Dan sighed. ‘I suppose being the hospital joke is part of my treatment?’
Tracy chuckled. ‘You make me laugh – that’s a good thing.’
‘Well, as long as I’m still of some service to society.’
Tracy chuckled again. ‘See? It’s important for a man to make a woman laugh. Much more attractive than looks alone.’
He took it as a compliment, but the jury would have to be out on her statement until after the plastic surgery. A porter approached with a patient in another wheelchair and Tracy stopped to talk to him. Dan thought it only polite to pass the time of day with his charge.
‘Good afternoon.’ No acknowledgement. ‘Lovely day.’ Dan knew he wasn’t trying. God, I’m an awful person, he thought.
The woman in the wheelchair was wearing a robe with a hood that covered her face, and the only reason Dan assumed she was female was because of its feminine design and colour – bright pink.
He couldn’t see her hands either, but judging by her small size and posture assumed her to be old and frail. Dan leaned forward to see if he could catch her eye, when she spoke.
‘Have you seen my mummy?’
She was a little girl! Dan still couldn’t see her face, but guessed she was about his daughter’s age.
‘No, I haven’t I’m afraid. What’s her name?’
‘She said she would come back for me, but she didn’t.’
A lump came to Dan’s throat. Whatever had happened to or was wrong with this poor child, he knew there was nothing he could do and he felt helpless – which, of course, he was. He couldn’t even help himself. A doll fell to the floor. With a great deal of effort and considerable pain Dan picked it up.
A tiny hand reached out from under the robe. Dan’s blood ran cold – it had been burnt almost to a crisp. No dressings, bandages – or flesh. Just the same sickening sight of exposed veins, tendons, and scarring. No wonder she didn’t want to look at him. She took the doll and held it close to her. Tracy and the porter finished their conversation and continued on their respective ways.
‘Who was that?’ Dan asked. ‘She wanted to know if I’d seen her mother.’
‘You mean Alice?’ Tracy seemed surprised by his interest. ‘Very sad story, I’m afraid, and patient confidentiality forbids me from telling you anything – it’s private.’
Dan wasn’t impressed. ‘Hmmm. Whereas broadcasting the confidentiality of my privates across the hospital would appear to be a medical necessity.’
Tracy turned to face him. ‘It’s not a joke, Dan – her mother’s dead.’
Dan was embarrassed. ‘Sorry,’ he said meekly. ‘That’s awful. Poor thing – what’s going to happen to her?’
Tracy didn’t respond and continued to push him down the corridor. Dan guessed Alice must have been involved in a car accident or something, during which her mother had died; but not before making a promise she could never keep. He absent-mindedly placed a hand against his bottom lip while trying not to think of his own daughter in the same situation. He dropped it again when he realised it looked a lot like Alice’s.
He brought his hand back up. ‘Tracy?’
‘Yes, my sweet?’
‘Is this a specialist burns unit?’
‘Not particularly, why?’
‘It’s just that my hand looks almost exactly like Alice’s.’
‘Stop being nosey about Alice.’
‘I’m not – the chap in the room opposite mine has similar injuries to me, and so does Alice.’
‘Everybody here has been through the mill one way or another, so there are bound to be some common ailments.’
‘I suppose so,’ Dan replied, not entirely convinced. They passed a sign pointing to a canteen and kept on going. ‘I thought we were going to have lunch?’ Dan realised he was hungry and, Lord knows, he needed to eat.
‘We are, but it’s a lovely summer’s day so everyone’s outside.’
They rounded a corner and passed through a glass conservatory. The sun streamed through and the change of light made Dan squint. It reminded him of having to close his eyes when the flames in the crash reached his face. The nausea that caused departed as he became used to the light. They passed through a set of doors at the far end and left the building.
It was indeed a lovely day. Perfect, in fact. Not a breath of wind and just enough cloud to ensure it wasn’t too warm. Tracy pushed her charge towards a group of four other patients in wheelchairs and a neat gap between them made her intentions clear.
‘Don’t put me there.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Don’t put me with those people – I don’t know them.’ Dan spoke out of t
he corner of his mouth as they were approaching fast.
‘Nonsense,’ Tracy replied. ‘Regular social contact is an important part of your recovery. It will improve your mood and make you less miserable.’
‘But I like being miserab… Hello! My name’s Squadron Leader Dan Stewart.’ The four of them barely seemed to register his presence. Typical, Dan thought.
One of them spoke. ‘Squadron leader? That’s a bit pretentious, isn’t it?’
Dan didn’t even look at him. ‘Tracy?’
‘Yes, Dan?’
‘I’m hallucinating again. I’d be grateful if you would take me back to my room, please.’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘Make an effort!’
Dan thought he already had but tried again anyway – sort of. ‘It would be pretentious if I were not a serving officer of that rank in Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force, but if you mean am I a snob? Then yes I am – and proud of it.’ He tried making himself look taller in the wheelchair, but it was more comfortable to settle back into it.
‘I suppose you want me to call you “Sir”.’
Tracy intervened. ‘Boys! Be friends.’
Dan thought it was like being back at prep school only he was being forced to make friends with a kid from the state school next door. He looked at the oik and realised they had something in common after all – fire-damaged skin.
‘You’re not taking your medication, are you?’ the oik said to him. ‘I can always tell – he’s not taking his either.’ He gestured to the man next to him, who seemed to be unaware of the temporary attention. ‘He is, though – not sure about her.’ He pointed out the remaining two in the group, who seemed to be just as oblivious.
The oik appeared to know something so Dan made an attempt to get it out of him. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Gary. Although you’ll probably insist on calling me “Corporal”, because I was in the army.’
‘That won’t be necessary.’ Dan winced at how arrogant that must have sounded.
‘Very generous of you,’ Gary predictably replied.
Dan tried again. ‘What are you in for?’
Gary looked at him with disdain. ‘You make this place sound more like a prison than a hospital. Which it may as well be – feels like I’ve been incarcerated in here for years.’
His depressing manner reminded Dan of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh. The question was rephrased. ‘I mean, what’s wrong with you?’ Dan realised he wasn’t exactly ingratiating himself with Gary, but didn’t care.
Gary cocked his head to one side and paused before answering. ‘You’re definitely not taking the drugs. Same as you, of course – have you looked at yourself lately?’
Dan knew what he meant. All five of them shared what seemed to be the now obligatory burns and accident damage to their hands and faces.
Tracy and another nurse arrived with trays of hot food and slotted them into place on the arms of the wheelchairs – all except for Dan’s.
‘Where’s mine?’ Dan could feel himself sounding more like a child all the time.
‘Doctor Adams says you’re to get it yourself – you need the exercise.’
‘Charming! Just who does that stuck-up excuse of a human being think he is?’ Dan turned to Gary for moral support, but the other man just smirked.
‘Welcome to the club, comrade.’
Dan assumed Gary wasn’t particularly fond of Doctor Adams either – that made two things they had in common.
Gary reached down to his bacon sandwich and lifted a corner of it. Tomato ketchup ran out like blood. The sight made Dan nauseous.
Gary stopped grinning. ‘Ketchup,’ he moaned. ‘Never brown sauce – always red.’
Dan lost his appetite. ‘I think I’ll give it a miss, Tracy – thanks all the same.’
‘Nonsense, you’re coming with us.’ She lifted away his blanket, put it over her shoulder, and held her hands out to him. ‘Come on, let’s try standing up.’
‘You’re joking, aren’t you? I haven’t stood up for, er, days? Weeks?’
‘All the more reason to then.’
Dan knew it was pointless arguing and, anyway, he had to start getting fit sometime. He reached out to take her hands and the other nurse moved to his side. Dan grasped, but stopped when pain wracked him. He tried letting go, but the two women had other ideas and, the next thing Dan knew, he was in a standing position. The pain dissipated.
‘Now, that wasn’t too bad, was it?’
Dan had to agree. The feeling was incredible. Like being set free. He looked down at Gary in more ways than one, before saying to Tracy: ‘Come along, my dear, allow me to escort you.’
Gary said something sarcastic which Dan ignored. He tried walking normally, but all that happened was the bottom half of his body remained in situ while the top half tried to overtake it.
‘Whoa!’ said Tracy, catching him before he fell over. ‘One step at a time.’
Dan recalled Adams saying the same thing. Dan couldn’t even manage that. Elation turned to disappointment – Gary tittering through his sandwich didn’t exactly help.
Tracy persisted. ‘Come on. Try moving your right leg.’
Dan looked down. There was grass beneath his feet. Small wild flowers too. He suddenly got the feeling he was being played for a fool.
Dan didn’t know why, but knew there was more to this than much-needed exercise. He looked up, expecting to see Doctor Adams and, sure enough, there he was – just a few yards away. A sensation of dread washed over Dan.
His right foot left the ground and Dan realised one of the nurses was taking the pace for him. Tracy had moved to his other side for support and, as she pulled him forward, he had no choice but to lift his left foot to join his right. Two more steps were taken like this, before Tracy decided he’d got the message. The next thing Dan knew, he was staggering like Frankenstein’s monster towards his creator, with Tracy and the other nurse nearby – just in case.
After thirty seconds or so all three reached the doctor. Dan was shattered, but very pleased with himself. He was out of breath and had to take a deep lungful just to speak.
‘Go on,’ he gasped. ‘Say “interesting”.’
‘Actually, I think “well done” would be more appropriate.’ Adams paused before saying: ‘Well done.’
Dan still couldn’t warm to him. He assumed Gary couldn’t warm to either of them. Adams looked down before he next spoke.
‘Help yourself to some food, Dan.’
Dan followed the doctor’s gaze and realised he was now standing next to a barbecue where sausages, burgers, steaks, chops, and various other meats were all sizzling and popping away. Fat was dripping onto the hot coals beneath, which caused tongues of fire to leap up and envelop them.
The distinct smell and look of the burning flesh caused Dan’s nausea to return and he became dizzy. He put out his right hand to steady himself only to watch in helpless horror as it plunged towards the flames.
Adams and the nurses grabbed their patient just in time but, instead of steadying him, laid Dan down on his side. His head was so close to the grass he could see the individual blades and even the wild flowers nestling within. A bumble bee flew into view.
Chapter Three
‘When are you coming home, Daddy?’
Dan opened his eyes. He was back in his bed. Lucy was sitting next to it. He felt for the buzzer and pressed it. ‘Er, soon darling, soon. Daddy’s not been very well.’
‘But it’s been ages and I hate it when you’re not there. It’s not fair.’
She pulled the teddy bear she was holding closer to her. Dan had a momentary flashback to Alice’s doll. The door opened and Mike walked in. Dan beckoned him over and motioned for him to bend down so he could whisper.
‘Silly question, Mike, I k
now, but… my daughter is sitting in that chair, isn’t she?’
Mike looked at Lucy, back at Dan, smiled and nodded. Dan relaxed. Mike raised his eyes to the ceiling as he left.
‘Oh, darling, you’ve no idea how pleased Daddy is to see you.’
He stretched out his arms to hug her, but hesitated when he saw how monstrous they looked. Lucy jumped off the chair and hugged him anyway. Claire was right. His appearance didn’t seem to bother her at all.
‘Oh, Daddy, please come home. It’s not the same without you. Mummy tries really hard, but she’s not as good as you at reading stories and she doesn’t play any games.’
Claire and Dan were used to Lucy playing them off against each other.
‘Now, I’m sure that’s not true, darling. And you have to understand that while Daddy’s in hospital, Mummy has to work twice as hard and you must help her – by being twice as good. Okay?’
Lucy dropped her head and stuck out her bottom lip. Dan would normally push it back in with his finger before tickling her under the chin, but he didn’t want his hands anywhere near her face.
‘What’s that noise?’ Dan looked towards the door.
Lucy started giggling as if she knew what was coming.
‘There it is again!’ He looked out of the window. ‘And again!’ Dan glanced towards a wall and then back at his daughter. ‘Can’t you hear it?’
Lucy shook her head, still giggling. Dan farted.
‘You must have heard it that time!’
Lucy broke into fits of laughter and ran out of the room, holding her nose.
Dan flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling in his own fit of giggles. He calmed. ‘Ah, kids, eh?’ he said, to no one in particular.
‘What about them?’
Dan continued to stare up at the ceiling. He was getting used to Adams appearing out of thin air. ‘Only a man with no children of his own would say such a thing.’ He turned to look at the doctor. He was holding a tray of food.
‘As you missed lunch, it occurred to me you might still be hungry.’
