“You’re a star.” I smile. I don’t know what I would do without him. But things should have been so different.
“No problem.” He grins. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, can I have a hug?” I feel suddenly needy and emotional. He rushes over and squeezes me a bit too tight, but I don’t care. I need him.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m here.”
“Sorry,” I say, my voice strained with emotion as I wipe big tears from my eyes.
Max sits back and assesses me while keeping hold of my hand. He says nothing, just stares. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say. It’s almost unheard of for him to not know how to help me. We are so in tune that we normally alienate people, so this is a strange experience. I know he completely disagrees with my decision to cut Danny off. But he is usually more vocal when we have a difference of opinion. He probably feels like he can’t say anything because I’m fragile now. Who knew injuring myself would actually protect me?
I’m just finishing my club sandwich with a side of chips, when the surgeon appears at the door. I guiltily put the rubbish in the bag and Max scurries away to dispose of it.
“Don’t stop on my account he insists, we like a healthy appetite around here.” He jokes.
“It’s fine, I was finished anyway,” I say and wipe my mouth.
“So, everything went perfectly this morning,” he says, all business. He goes over to the light panel on the wall beside me and switches it on. Then he slots my x-ray onto the front. It looks grizzly.
“You can see here, you have shattered everything in this area. We call it a trimalleolar fracture.” He sounds way too jolly. “To repair it, we have made two incisions here and here.” He points to each side of my ankle. “And we have used a plate and screws to secure the pieces of bone where we want them and hold them there while they heal back together.”
He swaps the x-ray for a new one that looks a million times grizzlier. Max walks back in at that moment and baulks at the sight of the x-ray, which looks like something from a hospital drama. The surgeon points to a large screw that goes horizontally across the ankle. “This screw is temporary, we will need to remove it in a few weeks. The rest are permanent.” He smiles.
“Now, you won’t be able to bear any weight whatsoever on this foot for about six weeks until the bones have sufficiently knitted together, particularly while this screw is still in. Once we have taken out your stitches, we will put you in a proper cast. Until then, you are sporting this.” He laughs. “It’s a metal back slab, it will be quite weighty.”
“Wow. That’s a lot to take in.” I exhale.
“We will give you pain relief and anti-inflammatories to take home. You will need to keep it elevated as much as possible, I’d say the majority of the time. You’ll obviously use crutches to get around, making sure that this foot stays off the ground at all times.” He thinks for a moment. “I might even see if I can get you a wheelchair for a couple of weeks.”
“Brilliant,” I mutter. Max stifles a laugh.
“Are you able to organise things at home to accommodate you while you recover?”
Max isn’t able to stifle the laugh this time. “Well I live alone, in the flat above my busy restaurant and bar and the only access is via a long staircase.” I reply, while shooting Max a ‘thanks-so-much-for-your-love-and- support’ look.
“Oh,” he replies.
“She can stay with us.” Max kindly offers.
“No, I want to be at home,” I insist. “Once I’m up, or down, the stairs, I’ll be fine. You will have to help me.”
“We have to make sure you can safely negotiate stairs before you go home. The first couple of weeks will be the hardest, while you have this heavy bandage, but I want you to try and rest with your leg elevated as much as possible, so you’ll be fine.”
He leaves us, promising that I would be discharged tomorrow morning after meeting the physio and being checked over once more.
“Can I push you around?” Max asks excitedly, falling about laughing. “And can we get some of those flashing wheels?”
“Oh fuck off!” I snap.
“Sorry,” he says, hanging his head slightly.
The physiotherapist arrives at my doorway bearing crutches and a wheelchair. Max is once again incorrigible. She shows me how to get myself into and out of the chair and how to put the leg rest up to keep it elevated. I’m astonished at the weight of this massive bandage, it weighs a ton. I’m glad I’m supposed to rest it as I don’t fancy carting it around much.
Once she’s happy that I’m not a complete danger to myself, she gets me up on the crutches.
“This thing is so heavy, how am I supposed to keep it off the ground?” I ask in frustration.
“Well you will be resting it most of the time. I just need to show you how to do the basics.”
Stairs on crutches are a nightmare! I give it my best effort and she seems satisfied, then she shows me two exercises she wants me to do every day, to keep everything moving, and then finally leaves me alone to rest.
“Please go home, Max. You’ve been here all day and I haven’t been much company.” I’ve been very lucky that no one has been put in the other bed, so visiting hours have been overlooked by the staff.
“It’s okay, I don’t want you to be on your own,” he replies.
I stroke his cheek. “I’m fine, honestly. Go on, have some dinner and see your man. He’ll have forgotten what you look like.”
“If you’re sure. What will you do?”
“Sleep probably.”
“Okay.”
Max spends ten minutes, fussing around, putting everything within reach, insisting on helping me to the loo and buying me a couple of drinks and a bar of chocolate.
“See you in the morning.” He kisses me on the forehead before he goes.
“See you,” I reply cheerfully as he walks out of the door.
I don’t want him to know how I really feel. I was dreading being on my own, to the extent that I forced him to go, just to get it over with. I’m at a really low ebb. The stuff that has happened to me over the past couple of weeks is too much to digest in one chunk. I can’t take any more. Fighting tears, I plug my headphones into the TV and put some home improvement show on. I wish I had a film to watch. Music is too meaningful and I don’t want to think right now, so I try really hard to watch the program without drifting into thought.
Danny’s hand slides over my stomach as his tongue twists around my hard nipple. I’ve never wanted him more. It feels so urgent, like it could be taken away at any second. “oh!’ I moan, startled by the sound. Why does it feel odd to make that sound?
His fingers slide into my underwear and I groan again, another strangled sound which takes me by surprise. My whole body aches for him, but he misses out the place I want him most. I try to move to guide his fingers, but this just makes him move further away.
He pulls his lips away from my nipple and I gasp. I beg him to take me, but he laughs. His gaze falls over something behind me and I turn to see what has taken his attention from me. But my body lets me down, I can't turn. I can only lie flat and the ache I thought I felt for Danny now feels like a physical pain, restricting my body. A woman appears beside me, it’s her…Brooke.
“Look at me,” I beg him. “I need you.” Tears sting my eyes.
They both laugh at this. With his hand still circling inside my underwear he begins to kiss her. I watch helplessly, sobbing and pleading with him to love me. I cry out as he finally pulls his hand away from me and turns it to her. My pained cry jars me and my tears have made my head hurt. I’m shaking from the violent sobs wracking my body.
Danny reclines beside me and watches her as she slowly pulls her hair out of its pins and shakes it loose. I beg him not to watch but he ignores me. She unzips her tight black dress and lets it fall to her feet. I try to turn away, I can’t watch. But my strange immobility keeps me flat on my back. Danny encourages her to come to him and I plead with him to stop this, but it’s too late as she climbs over him. I sob and sob until I wake with a start.
