by Karin Baine
‘He’s fine with it. As long as I’m the one putting in the extra hours to accommodate our new guest.’ He flashed her a smile as he let her into the premises to show her he didn’t mind. It only served to make her feel worse about the way she’d treated him thus far when he was going out of his way to accommodate her.
They’d come to a compromise over her use of the equipment so there was no misunderstanding over their roles here. She wasn’t going to be a paying client, thus Edward wouldn’t have any input into what she was doing. There would be no doctor/patient relationship. This was a favour.
Whatever his reasons, it was difficult for her to believe anyone could be so altruistic. She’d been through so much, trust wasn’t something she gave easily. Life with her parents had made her guarded and her injuries had made her even more so. In the army she’d been forced to rely on others, at times put her life in their hands. She’d had to do the same with the hospital team who’d saved her after the blast. This was different and Edward was still virtually a stranger. Surely, she was right to be wary?
She could thank him, tell him not to put himself out on her account but that made it sound as though she owed him something.
‘Good. I wouldn’t want any disgruntled staff selling me out to the papers to get the clinic some publicity.’ She walked on in, doing her best to exude that self-entitled, regal air despite her current outward appearance.
‘No. You have my word on that score. Privacy is very important here. Now, let me give you the tour.’ The sincere comment combined with his unflinching eye contact made her believe him. That unwavering blue-eyed gaze also caused the hairs to stand up on the back of her neck. For a moment she was lost, swimming in that azure sea without a care in the world. Then he rested his hand on her elbow to gently guide her and jolted her back to the present.
Etiquette around members of the royal family included a ‘no touching’ rule. One she should be enforcing right now. Except it had been a long time since she’d felt that human connection. In hospital she’d detested being poked and prodded and having her limbs manipulated. No control over her own body. Being back home she’d been so focused on getting better, in private, she’d starved herself of basic human interaction. It was nice to have someone touch her so casually without it being a big issue.
CHAPTER THREE
‘WE’VE DONE EXTENSIVE research on the best equipment for someone living with a disability.’ Edward was proudly showing off the fitness machines in the shiny gym but his last word was a slap across the face to Georgiana.
She still thought of invalids being those who’d suffered a serious stroke or a spinal-cord injury. Even other people who’d had amputations, but not her. Despite the permanency of her loss she continued to see her situation as a temporary problem she could solve with a lot of hard work. Other people might call it denial but she knew it was her mental strength that would get her back to her physical peak along with the training.
‘A lot of this I already have at home.’ She picked up one of the dumbbells from the bench with ease. The weights and resistance bands were crucial to strengthening her upper body so she could support those weaker areas during exercise.
‘I know, and I’m not saying you should stop your home training. The extra work you do here is to supplement that. We have the arm cycles, for example. There are the free-standing machines you can use with or without seats depending on how much you rely on your wheelchair.’
‘I don’t need a wheelchair.’ She’d hated that thing from the very first moment she’d been pushed around in it like some helpless infant. The one thing it had done for her was to spur her on to her first milestone: to be able to get out of it. Some didn’t have an option but knowing she could walk on her own if she worked hard enough had been a powerful motivator. Sure, there were some days she was in pain, when it would be easier to give in and use it for getting mobile. On those bad days she’d use her crutches so there was some support but she still had to work at it.
Edward held his hands up. ‘Hey, there’s no judgement here and absolutely no shame in using them. A lot of our patients are wheelchair users. Wearing a prosthetic leg places additional stress on the body and you do what you need to in order to stay mobile. I’m simply advising you on the options available.’
Georgiana knew she was being testy but the chip on her shoulder about being seen using one of those things came directly from her mother. They were both aware it marked her out as different when it was possible for her to pull on a pair of trousers so no one would know she wasn’t whole.
‘I appreciate that but I won’t need anything to do with a wheelchair.’ It had been difficult enough coming back from rehab to find her parents had adapted half the house for a wheelchair user. As though it was going to be a permanent feature. Well, she’d showed them, putting in the effort to ensure she didn’t have to use one longer than necessary. Now the ramps that had been installed for her benefit slowed her up when she had to adjust her balance every time she walked up or down one.
‘I’m just giving you the standard tour. Take or leave whatever is or isn’t applicable to your specific needs.’ He appeared unfazed by the news and Georgiana was miffed by his indifference. It was a huge achievement when someone transitioned back onto their feet and an acknowledgement of that would be nice. Perhaps he was so used to dealing with patients at every level of rehabilitation it wasn’t as big a deal to him as it was to her.
‘I see you have the heavy boxing bag. I suppose that’s for core work.’ And relieving frustration, as long as she didn’t overbalance in her enthusiasm to punch things.
‘Yes, and the speed bag can be adjusted so you’re reaching overhead and challenge your range of motion.’
‘Hmm. Maybe I’ll take up boxing. We’re always encouraged to get involved in competitive sport. I like the idea of punching people in the face.’ They championed sport to improve fitness but also to give patients a new area of their lives to focus on and work towards. That competitive spirit gave a boost to those who might otherwise want to give up. She wasn’t going to be one of those people lying in bed all day feeling sorry for herself, but neither did she want to be on a stage celebrating what had happened to her.
Boxing, however, was a skill she could carry through with her as another defence for when her sardonic repartee failed to get people like Edward Lawrence to back off.
‘I’m not sure that’s the spirit of the sport. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you.’ Without his jacket she could see the impressive bulge of his biceps straining the cotton shirt and she knew she’d be no challenge to him. Yet she appreciated that he didn’t think of her as a fragile doll.
‘I do have military training...’ She gave him what she hoped was an intimidating glare, although her Cheshire cat impression might have undermined the overall effect.
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he said with a grin to match hers. ‘Especially when I tell you about the glider here. Yes, it’s designed for wheelchair users but I think it does help build the oblique, core, back and arm muscles.’
She pursed her lips to prevent a further tirade about why it wasn’t suitable for someone who could get around perfectly fine. He knew that now but he obviously had more to say on the subject.
‘Go on...’
The worried frown lines evened out across his forehead when she let him off the hook. ‘You can pull up a seat and just work out the arms on this one. It’s a great way to improve strength and cardio. Plus, it can strengthen your shoulder orbit muscles.’ He demonstrated the machine, pulling and pushing the levers, which she could see were replicating rowing and cross-country skiing motions for the upper body.
She had a rowing machine at home but she had to take off her leg to keep the air flow on her limb and prevent sweating. This glider would certainly complement the exercises she was already doing for her arms. By combining both gym workouts she’d hopefully improve
her overall fitness. Edward certainly looked fit. She was mesmerised by his thick, tanned forearms pumping the levers back and forth. That was the level of strength she aspired to. Her fascination wasn’t in any way an objectification of the man himself.
‘It looks...er...good.’ She cleared her throat and her mind. This man was an aid to her recovery, nothing more. Okay, maybe he was some pretty window dressing in a room dominated by ugly, functional machinery.
‘Do you need me to demonstrate anything else or help draw up some sort of plan? I know that’s not my particular area of expertise but I have learned a thing or two over the years about strength and conditioning exercises.’ He walked over to the stationary bike and though her first instinct was to scoff and tell him she knew how to ride one, a different instinct held her back.
‘You can change the gradient here depending on how much resistance you want.’ He was talking as he pushed the buttons on the electronic display panel but she was more interested in watching the bulging thigh muscles rippling with his every pedal.
‘I know how a bike works,’ she snapped eventually, not happy about the physical reaction she was having to the scene before her. It wasn’t as though she was unused to being in close proximity to men in their prime. She’d been in the army, for goodness’ sake, living and fighting along with the best the country had to offer, and she hadn’t had her head turned. Yet she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off every flex of muscle and wonder what lay beneath the fabric of his clothes.
‘We’re supposed to run through instructions for the equipment with all new patients but I guess I’m not an instructor and you’re not a patient.’
‘No. Think of it more as private rental of the space. I’m not here for the social side.’ Even if spending time with him tonight had proved an eye-opener for her.
‘I don’t suppose you’ll be needing an exercise programme customised for you either? That could be arranged along with any of our other services.’ He swung his leg over the bike and came to join her again. Georgiana knew he meant well but she’d be more at ease once he left her alone.
She shook her head. ‘I have all that from the rehab centre and I’d prefer to adapt things to suit my own body’s needs and capabilities. I know my boundaries and how far I can push them.’ Cardio and strength training had been her priority since coming home in her effort to get her body back to the way she wanted it. Short of growing her leg back. She didn’t need anyone interfering or disrupting her training and slowing her progress.
‘Right, well, don’t overdo it,’ he reiterated, managing to raise her hackles again. ‘I’ll be working in my office if you need me. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.’ He pointed to a door down the hallway. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of those open-plan, all-glass set-ups, which would have stripped away any illusion of privacy. Once he was secured behind his office door, she was free to do her thing without an audience.
As he made his way off the gym floor, Georgiana followed so she could close the door after him. He caught her off guard when he spun around again. She didn’t have time to react and move back, so they were almost nose to nose when he spoke.
‘Oh. I was just going to say I didn’t have time to show you the pool area. Not to worry. You can’t use that without supervision anyway. We’ll sort something out for next time.’ He seemed to say everything in one breath, then turned away sharply to disappear down the corridor. Leaving her breathless in his wake.
It took her a few seconds and some deep breaths to absorb what had happened. His usual cool demeanour had deserted him momentarily. Almost as though being so up close in her personal space had thrown him as much as her. She had to concentrate to remember what he’d even said. Something about the pool being out of bounds. It didn’t matter tonight as she hadn’t brought a swimsuit with her, but the pool had been the clincher for her coming here. She missed swimming but hadn’t been able to face doing it in a public area with people staring. A situation where she really couldn’t hide any more.
* * *
Once Georgiana completed the cool-down part of her workout, she longed for the soothing relief of a warm pool to ease her aches and pains. Hydrotherapy was the one thing she’d looked forward to when she’d been in the rehab unit.
When she’d first slid into the water after her amputation, the sense of movement had been a defining moment in her recovery progress. It was then she’d realised she didn’t have to be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
Her physical therapist had helped her see the benefits of exercising in the water. The warm water relaxed her body and allowed her to become vertical without bearing weight on her remaining leg. It made things more bearable in those early days compared to her land-based regime.
She’d done her cardio now on Edward’s expensive toys, so she didn’t need to do the deep-water jogging while wearing a flotation belt around her middle, which did the same job. Some sense of normalcy would be nice now, where she didn’t have to strap on fake body parts and work hard just to walk. Her mood was completely different when she was in the water because she wasn’t consumed by anxiety. She was free to enjoy a swim and move unimpeded. Without pain or fear.
A glance down the hall told her Edward was still ensconced in his office as she undertook a little tour of her own. All she had to do was follow the smell of chlorine. Georgiana had only intended to take a look, get a feel for the place, but the water was so inviting. The low-level evening lighting was preferable to the usual fluorescent glare she was forced to endure when swimming. It was calming and the empty pool was calling for her to take a soothing dip.
She could see they had all the hoists and devices for lowering disabled bodies into the water but she no longer needed any of that. The fact she didn’t have a bathing costume didn’t put her off either. She simply stripped off at the side of the pool, so she was standing in her neon-pink sports bra and mismatched black knickers. It was removing her leg that made her more self-conscious but with no one here to see she had nothing to worry about.
Using the handrail at the side of the steps, she eased herself in. Once she was enveloped in that watery embrace she could finally relax. On her back now, she floated aimlessly, letting her thoughts drift away. The glittering, morphing reflection of the water on the ceiling hypnotised her into a state of calm. Here, it didn’t matter about her appearance or abilities. She could just be.
It was only the occasional splash when her constantly swishing hands keeping her afloat slapped the surface that disturbed her reverie. She could get used to coming here to unwind at night. Edward had indicated she’d need supervision but she wasn’t one of those helpless patients who couldn’t fend for herself. There’d been a time when she had been dependent on lifeguards and physios to make sure she didn’t drown but she’d worked hard to get this independence and she wasn’t going to give it up now.
Once she thought her hydrotherapy was bordering on being self-indulgent, she rolled over onto her belly and began to swim. There were those who had special prosthetics made to swim with but she was content to be unencumbered for this short time.
After a few lengths she began to tire. Her limbs and lungs were telling her they’d had enough for one day. Regardless of what Mr Lawrence thought, she did listen to her body. She wanted to improve and regain the fitness levels she’d had pre-amputation, not make things worse. At this point she didn’t know what that could be but if she overdid things there was a fear of being laid up again.
Those weeks spent in hospital, unable to do anything, followed by relearning basic things such as standing and walking, had been the worst time of her life. It had left her weak and ashamed at being so helpless, relying on strangers to help her carry out the simplest tasks. There was no way she was returning to those dark days.
The clock on the far wall told her it was getting late. As kind as Edward had been in staying on, she didn’t want to take advantage. He had work
in the morning and there was likely to be someone waiting for him at home. Oddly, the thought of him going back to a cosy domestic scene while she sneaked back into the palace, where her disappearance probably wouldn’t have been noticed, bugged her.
She hauled herself up and over the edge of the pool where she’d left her clothes. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had the foresight to set a towel within reach. There was a bale of freshly laundered fluffy white towels sitting on the low-level lockers over by the door. She had two options: either put her clothes on over her wet underwear or hop over to get one. There was no point trying to put her leg on first when she was wet. She needed to dry off before she attempted that.
It wasn’t that far anyway, and she was used to getting around on one leg in her bedroom rather than put the blasted thing on and off when she needed to get something.
With the aid of the handrail, she pulled into an upright position and steadied herself. She propelled herself forward, letting her leg take the full weight of her body. It took a few seconds to centre herself again and get her balance. Things like this were tiring and frustrating. Such was her new norm after a lifetime of taking such a basic thing as having two legs for granted. If she didn’t believe things like this would get easier she’d have given up a long time ago.
Another hop brought her closer to her target but as her foot landed on the tiled floor it splashed in a small puddle of water and she lost traction. Though she frantically reached out for anything to stabilise her, she was powerless against gravity and landed with a thud.
The pain was excruciating as she hit the deck. When her body landed on the hard, wet surface it literally knocked the breath out of her. Her head had cracked against the tiles too and she lay there stunned, wondering how things had gone so wrong so quickly.
‘Georgiana? What the hell—?’ Edward’s angry voice reverberated around the walls and for a moment she thought she’d imagined it. Until he loomed over her. She groaned out of pain and the humiliation of him finding her lying here.
