by Dani Atkins
‘Exactly how many operations are we talking about?’ That voice didn’t sound like mine at all. Like everything else in my body, that too appeared to be broken.
‘It’s impossible for us to say at this point,’ answered the surgeon, his face giving nothing away. ‘But I think it’s important for patients and their families to know from the very outset that we have a journey ahead of us, and some of it will be tough.’
My lower lip was trembling and I was very much afraid that I was going to start bawling soon, which I really didn’t want to do in front of these strangers. Partly it was the realisation that my recovery was going to take so much longer than I’d imagined, and the rest was because the doctors seemed reluctant to forecast the eventual outcome.
‘We simply don’t know yet,’ was the answer they gave to every one of my questions.
‘But I will be able to walk?’ I pressed on regardless, not liking the way the surgeon’s brow had furrowed into lines, like a contour map. ‘I mean, I’ve got feeling in both of my legs, so it’s not as if I’m paralysed, or anything dreadful like that.’
The doctor shook his head slowly, wearing an expression that told me he had a far better idea of the outcome than he was letting on.
‘Spinal injuries are sadly not the only reason patients find themselves confined to a wheelchair following an accident.’
My gasp was echoed by my dad’s. His question beat mine to the punch, for my throat was suddenly too tight for speech.
‘Are you saying that Bella is going to end up in a wheelchair? Nobody mentioned anything about that last night.’ He sounded almost accusatory that such an important fact had been deliberately withheld from us.
‘Last night we were all just grateful that we’d successfully managed to avoid an amputation,’ the surgeon reminded us gravely. ‘Now we have to concentrate on looking to the future and achieving the maximum level of mobility. Which, this early, is impossible to forecast.’
‘But you have some sort of idea. You must have.’
Perhaps patients don’t normally press him like that, or maybe he could see from my face that I needed to know what I was dealing with. His brown eyes softened and as he began to speak he took one of my hands in his. I saw that as a very bad sign.
‘I don’t think you’ll ever run a marathon, or climb a mountain… or even be able to dance again.’
My eyes were awash with tears of self-pity, and it wasn’t as if any of those things had been on my list of favourite activities. The trauma surgeon was quick to sweep in with more positive news.
‘But your pelvis is undamaged, and miraculously there were no internal injuries. I’m confident this won’t affect your ability to have children in the future.’
Again, not something that was looming on my immediate horizon, but still good to know, I guessed.
‘As far as walking – well, if all goes to plan we’ll see you on your feet again one day, albeit with the help of a stick and very likely some sort of limp.’
The picture he was painting was growing darker with every sentence, and he wasn’t done yet.
‘At the other end of the spectrum, we’re looking at being unable to strengthen and repair the legs enough to support you. And if that is the outcome, then obviously you will need to rely on the use of a wheelchair to get around.’
There was a long moment of silence as the bombs he had dropped on to our world exploded silently, destroying so many precious things I’d foolishly taken for granted.
‘Your injuries were some of the most severe that I’ve seen in civilian life, Bella. But the human body is a remarkable thing. It finds ways to continually surprise and astound us. You’ve got the best orthopaedic team in the country right here, and any halfway decent doctor should be willing to admit that we don’t know it all. We’re not gods.’ He gave a small ironic laugh. ‘Although don’t tell any of my colleagues I said that.’
He released my hand, which I had quite forgotten he was still holding. ‘I don’t want to set you any limitations today – it’s far too early for that. We’re going to take each surgery as it comes, and I have no intention of giving up, or giving in. I’m going to keep on fighting to get you the best possible outcome. All I ask of you is that you do the same.’
14
‘Still nothing?’
I shook my head sadly, and passed the phone back to my father.
‘What time did Sasha say she’d finally spoken to Aaron?’
‘Just after six o’clock this morning.’ I wondered if Dad was aware of that little scowl he gave whenever my boyfriend’s name was mentioned. It was a poorly kept secret between us that his membership of the Aaron Weston fan club had lapsed recently. Aaron had fallen spectacularly out of favour with Dad after our temporary break-up last year. And while I might have forgiven that brief blip in judgement, Dad’s memory was more elephantine.
‘I imagine he’s probably still driving. It’ll take him quite a long time from Cumbria, won’t it?’
Dad nodded, his expression still several degrees cooler than warm. ‘You’d have thought the least he could do is answer his bloody phone, though.’
I shook my head, defending Aaron by instinct. ‘He’ll have it switched off if he’s driving. Ever since he witnessed that accident when the van driver on his phone crashed into another car, he won’t take a call – not even hands-free – when he’s behind the wheel.’
Somehow even that admirable quality couldn’t get Dad to like him more. ‘That’s all well and good, but given the circumstances, and knowing how badly you’ve been injured…’ His voice trailed away. We both remembered only too vividly that when Mum had been in hospital, especially towards the end, Dad had to be practically pried from her side. He expected nothing less than that kind of devotion for me, but I knew Aaron better than that.
And yet, even though I knew he was still many miles away, and his peculiar aversion to hospitals, I couldn’t stop myself from constantly checking the face of every new arrival on the ward.
‘It was sheer bad luck the accident happened when Aaron was away on his company’s team-building exercise thing.’
My dad gave an unimpressed harrumph. ‘What a whole load of nonsense that is. A group of posh boys running around the countryside pretending they’re Bear Grylls? What’s that got to do with working in an office?’
I gave a tired shrug, unwilling to travel down this road again, mainly because I largely agreed with my dad’s point of view.
‘And making them surrender their mobiles and not being able to contact them in an emergency. What kind of idiot idea is that?’
‘I did have an emergency contact number,’ I said. ‘It was keyed into my mobile.’ We exchanged a rueful look, knowing my iPhone had been crushed even more catastrophically than I’d been in the accident.
‘I’m sure he’ll be here soon,’ I said, with a small wince. The last round of painkillers I’d been given had worn off about thirty minutes ago and I still had another hour left before the next ones. Perhaps I could just sleep away the time until both the analgesics and my boyfriend arrived.
‘You should go home for a while, Dad. Catch a few hours’ sleep in a proper bed; have a shower and a hot meal.’ He’d existed on nothing but coffee and unhealthy snacks scavenged from the vending machine, not willing to leave my side for even a quick trip to the hospital canteen.
‘I’m fine right here,’ he said mulishly, but in truth he didn’t look great.
‘If you went home you could collect some stuff from my flat for me and maybe swing by the shop to see Wayne.’
‘Work is the last thing you should be worrying about,’ he countered.
‘I know. But I’m not sure what Sasha told him last night, and you know what a worrier he is. And what’s happened to me affects him too.’
Dad gave a small nod, his lips relaxing into a smile. He had a lot of time for Wayne, both as my business partner and as my friend. His opinion of him was virtually polar opposite to his one of Aaron. ‘Such a
shame Wayne is… you know… not your type,’ he’d said awkwardly after their first meeting.
‘I think it’s more a case of me not being his type,’ I’d corrected laughingly.
‘I suppose I could get back here for the early evening visiting,’ Dad conceded.
I tried not to look as though I’d scored a victory, even though I knew I had. Feeling helpless was the thing that would tear my father down; he just needed to have something to do, something he could fix. I hurriedly concocted a list of items for him to bring, all of which I could probably do perfectly well without.
‘You just worry about getting some rest,’ said Dad, bending down low and kissing my cheek. His beard felt scratchy and the bags beneath his eyes looked hefty enough to use for carry-on luggage.
‘You too,’ I urged, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly. Now that he was about to leave I suddenly felt like an infant on their first day of school, afraid of being alone in a strange place.
‘I’m really sorry, Dad.’
‘What on earth for?’ He looked genuinely puzzled.
‘For giving you something new to worry about. For scaring you.’ For putting that look back into your eyes, I added silently.
His hands felt hot as they squeezed mine back – the ward was now warm enough to grow orchids. I realised it was something I was going to have to get used to.
‘You’ll be all right until Aaron or Sasha gets here?’
I nodded vigorously, aware that my eyes were once again beginning to tingle. Another ten seconds and I’d be blubbing like a baby again.
‘Go. I’ll be absolutely fine.’
*
The bouquet was so big I couldn’t initially see who was carrying it; and there was a box of chocolates, roughly the size of a paving slab, tucked beneath his arm. They were lovely gestures, but I’d gladly have sacrificed both in exchange for what I really wanted from Aaron. Where was the light in his eyes, which always ignited whenever he saw me? Or that slightly crooked smile, with the sexy undertones, that had the power to recalibrate even my very worst day? And as far as bad days went, this one was right up there in my all-time top five.
If he’d brought those things with him, they’d instantly evaporated when he walked into my hospital room. His gaze was fixed determinedly on my face as he approached the bed, as though driving past roadkill. The nurses had pulled back the blankets earlier, uncovering my legs in the overheated ward, but if Aaron’s expression was anything to go by, perhaps I should keep them hidden from visitors.
He spent longer than necessary setting down the flowers and chocolates and had managed to get his features under some sort of control by the time he turned to face me.
‘Oh my God, Bella. When Sasha told me that you’d been hurt, that you’d broken your legs, I had no idea they’d be so…’ His words ran out, leaving an uncomfortable gap for me to insert my own: Gross. Disgusting. Shattered.
‘I even bought a Sharpie at the petrol station, so I could write something funny on your plaster cast.’
He risked a quick sidelong glance at my legs, and caught a glimpse of a bolt and some kind of screw device disappearing into my thigh. There was an unhealthy pallor to his skin, the kind people get just before they faint. And for a moment Aaron’s face seemed to disappear and in its place I saw Will’s, right before he’d passed out on top of me. Despite asking several members of staff, so far no one had been able to give me any information about the man who’d been by my side throughout the accident. Will’s parting words were that he’d see me soon, but I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever meet again.
‘Is it okay to kiss you, or give you a hug?’ I jumped guiltily at Aaron’s question, as though he’d read my thoughts and known they’d been of another man. There was something quite touching about his hesitancy as he stood at my bedside, asking for permission to touch me.
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ I replied, opening my arms to him.
He held me weirdly, as though I was made of angles and spun sugar. The last time we’d seen each other was two mornings ago, when I’d climbed reluctantly from his bed, leaving him in a tangle of sweat-dampened sheets. Standing beneath the jets of his shower, my body had still been tingling from our lovemaking. There were things I’d quite like to change in our relationship, but our sex life wasn’t one of them. Was that all over for us for now? It was a question for the doctors, although definitely not one to ask when my dad was in the room.
I lifted my face for Aaron’s kiss but somehow his lips missed mine and grazed my cheek instead. But at least his hand was holding mine, our fingers entwined like vines.
‘You can sit down, you know,’ I said gently, trying not to think that he looked like a runner on the starting block, ready to bolt at the sound of a pistol.
‘Perhaps I ought to see if someone has a vase for the flowers.’ The words ‘flight risk’ flashed into my head and stubbornly refused to leave it.
‘I’m sure they’ll be all right until someone next comes in. They’re in and out of here all the time.’
Aaron nodded and pulled the visitor’s chair closer to the bed, perching uncomfortably on the edge of its seat.
‘Are you in a lot of pain? You must be.’
I pushed the hair back from my forehead, letting it fall in a chestnut-coloured fan across the pillow. ‘I’m on pretty strong meds most of the time. They make me kind of dopey.’
Regular Aaron would have made a quip then, asking how I could possibly tell the difference, but Hospital Visitor Aaron had a different reply. ‘Maybe I should leave, and let you get some rest?’
‘You’ve only just got here,’ I protested, knowing even this early that I was glimpsing a peek into the future, and not liking what I saw. Was it really a surprise that Aaron looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world right now? I’d known how weird he was about illness and hospitals, and yet I’d always believed that if the patient was me he’d be able to overcome that phobia.
‘The accident is all over the media,’ he told me, while his right leg jiggled up and down in what could only be anxiety. ‘It felt pretty surreal hearing it on the radio as I was driving back down.’
‘How was your team-building exercise thing?’ I asked, more to take his mind off his surroundings than anything else.
‘Excruciating. Bloody torture, in fact. I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my entire life.’ I tried very hard to keep my features neutral, wondering if yomping over the hills of Cumbria was anywhere near as painful as being crushed on a roller-coaster.
‘Have the doctors given you any idea yet of how long you’re likely to be stuck in here?’
I chewed nervously on my lower lip, realising Aaron still wasn’t fully aware of how severe my injuries were. This was probably the time when I should tell him; he deserved to know. And yet as my lips parted to reveal the truth, a lie slipped past them instead. ‘They’re not sure. There’s a slim chance I might need another operation.’ I glanced around the room, guiltily imagining what the doctors would say if they heard my watered-down prognosis.
Aaron’s eyes flickered, but I wasn’t quick enough to read the look behind their blue depths. ‘I saw on the internet that some people on the ride had to wait hours to be freed from the wreckage.’
Once again, the memory of a tall, good-looking man filled my head. Will was starting to haunt my thoughts like a living ghost.
‘It did take hours. We were the people they were talking about.’
‘We? I thought Sasha hadn’t been on the ride?’
My cheeks suddenly felt hot. Had someone turned up the thermostat even higher on the ward? ‘Not Sasha,’ I corrected. ‘She changed her mind at the last moment. A boy from the single rider queue took her place. We kind of helped each other get through it.’
Why had I done that? Why had I referred to Will as a ‘boy’ when I knew perfectly well he was the same age as Aaron, or even older?
‘Well, I’m glad you had someone with you. I would
probably have been useless in that situation.’
Yes, you would have been. The thought popped into my head with such crystal clarity that for an awful moment I thought I might have said those words out loud.
*
Knowing how uncomfortable hospitals made him, I was quietly impressed with how Aaron was coping on this first visit. I told myself his feelings for me must be strong enough to outweigh his reluctance to be there. It was almost heroic… if you chose to look at it that way, which I decided I would. Although when a nurse trundling a medication trolley entered my room, he did leap to his feet as though spying an open cell door. ‘I really ought to top up the car park ticket. I only had enough coins for an hour. Don’t want to get clamped.’
‘But you’re coming back?’
‘Of course,’ he replied, easing past the nurse who was handing me a small paper beaker full of pills. ‘I just need to pop into one of the shops and get some more change for the meter.’ He was like a man in a sauna who’d just reached his upper tolerance of steam and sweat. ‘I won’t be long.’
I watched him go with a feeling of inevitability and then turned my head to focus on the blue, cloud-scattered sky, perfectly framed in the window beside my bed. In less time than it would surely have taken for the lift to reach the ground floor, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching my bed once more and a male voice clearing his throat.
‘Did you forget to kiss me goodbye?’ I asked with a smile, turning away from the window to face the man standing beside my bed.
‘Well, they had me strapped to a stretcher at the time, so it would have been kind of tricky,’ said Will, looking far better than a man with a great big bandage around his head had a right to. ‘I could kiss you hello, if you like?’ he volunteered with a grin, perfectly aware that my comment must have been intended for someone else.
Hopefully the Barbie-pink hue on my cheeks could be attributed to the warmth of the sun lasering in through the glass beside me, rather than embarrassment.
‘Will. How are you?’ I tried to dial down the pleasure in my voice at seeing him again, but I’m pretty sure my delight was plastered all over my face.
