'Hold on, little lady, don't rush things. You have to accept this is going to be a long and frustrating recovery. The first target is to get you out of bed and then gradually walking on crutches. If you ask the bones to take any weight or strain they won't mend and you'll end up a cripple – which wouldn't be in anybody's interest, would it? Is there anything else?'
I thought that was plenty to be going on with. I thanked him and he left me to my own thoughts.
I tried to forget everything by sleeping, but even that was difficult. My body had been given over to medical light-engineering and all that entailed. My right foot had begun to itch under the plaster, my left leg throbbed and I felt thoroughly seedy. I still had that confounded drip in my left forearm although the nurse did at least tell me she thought it would come down tomorrow. That would be Thursday. Every time I attempted to find a comfortable position or moved a lower extremity, the ensuing sharp pain woke me from my slumber and brought me back to the depressing reality of my side room.
Around about midday, or at least I thought it was, I received my first visitor. If you had offered odds on who it would be, I would have expected at least 66-1
I had never regarded Arthur Drewe as a very endearing or prepossessing character and as he raged on, I was fascinated by the way his left eye twitched in harmony with his increasing frustration. I had no intention of giving up the photograph and told him so in words of four letters.
'How dare you talk to me like that!' he stormed. 'You leave me no alternative but to report you to the police as a blackmailer.'
'Go on, go ahead. Nothing would give me more pleasure.'
I noticed him eyeing the plaster that encased my right leg and I sensed that he was debating whether to try a more physical line of persuasion. I pressed the buzzer beside my bed, and within seconds a nurse had appeared.
'Could you give me something for a headache, please?' I asked her. 'My uncle was just leaving.' I smiled my broadest smile at Sir Arthur, and presented my cheek for him to kiss. 'So sweet of you to come.'
Caught between rage and embarrassment, he leant forward and under the benign gaze of the nurse gave me a hasty peck, the hair of his moustache tickling me in the process.
'You'll regret this,' he muttered.
'Give my love to auntie,' I said loudly as he turned to leave, 'and to Annabel of course.'
He hardly wanted reminding of his favourite permit holder.
Drewe was followed a while later by Ralph and Amy. They understood that I was too weak and tired to make much conversation. I chose not to mention Drewe's visit in front of Ralph but asked him whether Admiralty Registrar was all right, as my last recollection of the horse was of following me only a few inches away through the air.
'He's fine,' Ralph answered. 'He was legless and winded for a little while but soon recovered and now he's as right as rain. The owners want to run him again this Saturday.'
'Tell them I'm willing if the doc gives me the all clear!' And with that parting comment and a mumbled apology I closed my eyes and surrendered to sleep.
I awoke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. The resulting pain in my left thigh reminded me in no uncertain terms where I was and why I was there. The room was in darkness and I wondered what time it was. I was sweating all over and my forehead was clammy, as if I'd been having a nightmare. Strangely for me, I couldn't remember a single detail of my dream; normally such experiences linger with me for hours.
My left arm was beginning to burn and sting from the drip, which already felt like a permanent part of me. For some inexplicable reason I was afraid. But perhaps it wasn't really surprising after the attacks over the past weeks and the accident on Tuesday. I tried in vain to adjust my eyes to the blackness that enveloped me like smog. I reached for the small box on the table beside my bed which contained the buzzer for calling the night nurse. I knew it was unfair but I just wanted to see a friendly face and have a reassuring chat. My outstretched right hand could feel the contours of a glass and the cover of a magazine that Amy had brought me, but that was all. I must have knocked the box onto the floor during my nightmare and now I was in no state to bend down and pick it up. At least I had stopped sweating and I was beginning to feel more relaxed.
I rolled over and tried to work myself into a more comfortable position in which to sleep. I dropped myself firmly onto my right shoulder and after wriggling my head against the pillow, began reliving my victory in the Gold Cup. I had reached the second-last fence from home when I thought I heard a rustling sound in the far corner of the room, where they had stacked the flowers and fruit. I listened carefully for another noise or movement. The back of my neck was beginning to prickle and I chided myself for behaving like a child. I held my breath for what seemed like a good thirty seconds. Not a sound, not a murmur… I shifted my weight yet again and returned to the race. Cartwheel pinged the last two fences and we galloped up that gruelling final hill to the winning post. As we passed the line, I lifted my left arm, drip and all, to give the old fellow a pat on the shoulder, just as I'd done all those weeks ago. Out of the darkness a hand shot forward, forcing my forearm down onto the mattress, and a coarse cloth engulfed my face, stifling my screams. I thought I felt the drip moving as I twisted and struggled to draw breath, before fading and falling headlong into a bottomless pit.
I awoke in a hysterical state, screaming. I opened my eyes expecting to see the face of my intruder and was puzzled and relieved to see the gentle smiling face of a nurse.
'Who are you?' I asked, almost in a whisper.
'I'm Agnes, your night nurse,' she replied with a definite Italian accent.
'Where's he gone? Did you catch him?'
'Who?' asked Agnes, calm and comforting.
'The man who came in here just now and attacked me.'
'There was no man. You've just been having a bad dream. You've been through a lot lately, poor thing.'
I wasn't going to stand for that. 'I'm sorry, but there really was a man. I wasn't dreaming. He grabbed my arm and did something to the drip. Look,' I said, holding up my arm for her to see. 'The bandage is loose.'
'The safety pin must have come off while you were asleep, that's all. Let me tidy it up for you.' Agnes took the bandage off and then wrapped it round my arm, fastening it again with a safety pin.
'You go back to sleep and I'll ask Dr Fox to see about taking the drip down first thing in the morning.'
She doesn't believe me, it's obvious, I thought to myself. Nobody's going to believe me. I kept on repeating it to myself until I fell asleep and dreamt I was on trial for my own murder.
Dr Fox did not inspire quite the same degree of confidence as Mr Maddox. It might just have been his youthful looks, or the blond curly hair that made him look as if he'd be more at ease on a plinth in Ancient Greece than in a hospital in Surrey. I would have bet any money he was a ladies' man who liked to start the day with a nurse for breakfast, preferably sunny side up.
'Good morning, Mrs Pryde. I hear you had rather a disturbed night.'
'That's an understatement. A man came into my room and attacked me.'
He didn't reply and concentrated his attention instead on the clip board he had just picked up from the foot of my bed.
'Some of those pain killers you're taking are very powerful, you know,' he said, flicking over the pages of the chart and deliberately avoiding my eye. 'Are you drinking all right now?'
'Yes, I am, but I did
'You're going through a very difficult time, Mrs Pryde, I do understand. I'll tell staff nurse to come and take your
