There was a short silence.
‘Right … Uh. Okay.’ He hesitated. ‘He was actually shot? With an actual gun?’
‘You can come and inspect the holes, if you like.’ My voice was so calm I almost laughed.
We discussed a couple more logistical details – calls that needed to be made, a visit from Head Office, and before I rang off, Richard grew silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘Louisa, is your life always like this?’
I thought of who I had been just two and a half years ago, my days measured in the short walk between my parents’ house and the café; the Tuesday-night routines of watching Patrick running or supper with my parents. I looked down at the rubbish bag in the corner, which now contained my bloodstained tennis shoes. ‘Possibly. Although I’d like to think it’s just a phase.’
After breakfast, my parents left for home. My mother didn’t want to go, but I assured her that I was fine, and that I didn’t know where I would be for the next few days so there would be little point in her staying. I also reminded her that the last time Granddad was left alone for more than twenty-four hours he had eaten his way through two pots of raspberry jam and a tin of condensed milk in lieu of actual meals.
‘You really are all right, though.’ She held her hand to the side of my face. She said it as though it wasn’t a question, although it clearly was.
‘Mum, I’m fine.’
She shook her head and made to pick up her bag. ‘I don’t know, Louisa. You do pick them.’
She was taken aback when I laughed. It might have been leftover shock. But I like to think it was then that I realized I wasn’t afraid of anything any more.
I showered, trying not to look at the pink water that ran from my legs, and washed my hair, bought the least limp bunch of flowers I could find at Samir’s, and headed back to the hospital for ten a.m. Sam’s parents had arrived several hours previously, the nurse told me, as she led me to the door. They had headed over to the railway carriage with Jake and Jake’s father to fetch Sam’s belongings.
‘He wasn’t very with it when they came but he’s making more sense now,’ she said. ‘It’s not unusual when they’re recently out of theatre. Some people just bounce back quicker than others.’
I slowed as we reached the door. I could see him now through the glass, his eyes closed, as they had been last night, his hand, strapped up to various monitors, lying motionless alongside his body. There was stubble on his chin and while he was still ghostly pale, he looked a little more like himself.
‘You sure I’m okay to go in?’
‘You’re Louise, right? He’s been asking for you.’ She smiled and wrinkled her nose. ‘Give us a shout if you get tired of that one. He’s lovely.’
I pushed the door slowly and his eyes opened, his face turning slightly. He looked at me then, as if he were taking me in, and something inside me weakened with relief.
‘Some people will do anything to beat me on the scar front.’ I closed the door behind me.
‘Yeah. Well.’ His voice emerged as a croak. ‘I’ve gone right off that game.’ He gave a small, tired smile.
I stood, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I hated hospitals. I would do almost anything never to enter one again.
‘Come here.’
I put the flowers on the table and walked over to him. He moved his arm, motioning for me to sit on the bed beside him. I sat, and then, because it felt wrong to be looking down at him, I lay back, positioning myself carefully, wary of dislodging something, of hurting him. I placed my head on his shoulder and felt the welcome weight of his head come to rest against mine. His lower arm lifted, gently hooking me in. We lay there in silence for a while, listening to the soft-shoe shuffle of the nurses outside, the distant conversation.
‘I thought you were dead,’ I whispered.
‘Apparently some amazing woman who shouldn’t have been in the back of the ambulance managed to slow my blood loss.’
‘That’s some woman.’
‘I thought so.’
I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his skin against my cheek, the unwelcome scent of chemical disinfectant emanating from his body. I didn’t think about anything. I just let myself exist in the moment, the deep, deep pleasure of being there next to him, of feeling the weight of him beside me, the space he took up in the atmosphere. I shifted my head and kissed the soft skin on the inside of his arm, and felt his fingers trace their way gently through my hair.
‘You scared me, Ambulance Sam.’
There was a long silence. I could hear him thinking the million things he chose not to say.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said eventually.
We lay there for a bit longer, in silence. And when the nurse finally came in and raised an eyebrow at my proximity to various important tubes and wires, I climbed reluctantly off the bed and obeyed her instructions to get some breakfast while she did her medical thing. I kissed him, a little self-consciously, and when I stroked his hair his eyes lifted slightly at the corners and I saw, with gratitude, something of what I was to him. ‘I’ll be back after my shift,’ I said.
‘You might bump into my parents.’ He said it as a warning.
‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll make sure I’m not wearing my Fuck Da Police T-shirt.’
He laughed, then grimaced, as if laughing were painful.
I fussed around a little while the nurses were seeing to him, doing the things that people do at patients’ bedsides when they’re simply looking for an excuse to hang around; I put out some fruit, disposed of a tissue, organized some magazines that I knew he wouldn’t read. And then it was time to go. I had made it as far as the door when he spoke. ‘I heard you.’
My hand was outstretched, ready to open it. I turned.
‘Last night. When I was bleeding out. I heard you.’
Our eyes locked. And in that moment everything shifted. I saw what I had really done. I saw that I could be somebody’s centre, their reason for staying. I saw that I could be enough. I walked back, took Sam’s face in my hands and kissed him fiercely, feeling hot tears fall unchecked onto his face, his arm pulling me in tightly as he kissed me back. I pressed my cheek against his, half laughing, half weeping, oblivious to the nurses, to anything except the man before me. Then, finally, I turned and walked downstairs, wiping my face, laughing at my tears, ignoring the curious faces of the people who passed.
The day was beautiful, even under strip-lights. Outside birds sang, a new morning dawned, people lived and grew and got better and looked forward to getting older. I bought a coffee and ate an over-sweet muffin and they tasted like the most delicious things I had ever had. I sent messages to my parents, to Treena, to Richard, telling him I would be in shortly. I texted Lily: Thought you might want to know Sam is in hospital. He got shot but he’s okay. I know he’d love it if you dropped him a card. Or even just a text if you’re busy.
The answer pinged back within seconds. I smiled. How did girls of that age type so quickly when they did everything else so slowly?
OMG. I just told the other girls and I’m basically now the coolest person they know. Seriously though give him my love. If you text me his details I’ll get him a card after school. Oh and I’m sorry for showing off to him in my pants that time. I didn’t mean it. Like not in a pervy way. Hope you guys are really happy. Xxx
‘Right … Uh. Okay.’ He hesitated. ‘He was actually shot? With an actual gun?’
‘You can come and inspect the holes, if you like.’ My voice was so calm I almost laughed.
We discussed a couple more logistical details – calls that needed to be made, a visit from Head Office, and before I rang off, Richard grew silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘Louisa, is your life always like this?’
I thought of who I had been just two and a half years ago, my days measured in the short walk between my parents’ house and the café; the Tuesday-night routines of watching Patrick running or supper with my parents. I looked down at the rubbish bag in the corner, which now contained my bloodstained tennis shoes. ‘Possibly. Although I’d like to think it’s just a phase.’
After breakfast, my parents left for home. My mother didn’t want to go, but I assured her that I was fine, and that I didn’t know where I would be for the next few days so there would be little point in her staying. I also reminded her that the last time Granddad was left alone for more than twenty-four hours he had eaten his way through two pots of raspberry jam and a tin of condensed milk in lieu of actual meals.
‘You really are all right, though.’ She held her hand to the side of my face. She said it as though it wasn’t a question, although it clearly was.
‘Mum, I’m fine.’
She shook her head and made to pick up her bag. ‘I don’t know, Louisa. You do pick them.’
She was taken aback when I laughed. It might have been leftover shock. But I like to think it was then that I realized I wasn’t afraid of anything any more.
I showered, trying not to look at the pink water that ran from my legs, and washed my hair, bought the least limp bunch of flowers I could find at Samir’s, and headed back to the hospital for ten a.m. Sam’s parents had arrived several hours previously, the nurse told me, as she led me to the door. They had headed over to the railway carriage with Jake and Jake’s father to fetch Sam’s belongings.
‘He wasn’t very with it when they came but he’s making more sense now,’ she said. ‘It’s not unusual when they’re recently out of theatre. Some people just bounce back quicker than others.’
I slowed as we reached the door. I could see him now through the glass, his eyes closed, as they had been last night, his hand, strapped up to various monitors, lying motionless alongside his body. There was stubble on his chin and while he was still ghostly pale, he looked a little more like himself.
‘You sure I’m okay to go in?’
‘You’re Louise, right? He’s been asking for you.’ She smiled and wrinkled her nose. ‘Give us a shout if you get tired of that one. He’s lovely.’
I pushed the door slowly and his eyes opened, his face turning slightly. He looked at me then, as if he were taking me in, and something inside me weakened with relief.
‘Some people will do anything to beat me on the scar front.’ I closed the door behind me.
‘Yeah. Well.’ His voice emerged as a croak. ‘I’ve gone right off that game.’ He gave a small, tired smile.
I stood, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I hated hospitals. I would do almost anything never to enter one again.
‘Come here.’
I put the flowers on the table and walked over to him. He moved his arm, motioning for me to sit on the bed beside him. I sat, and then, because it felt wrong to be looking down at him, I lay back, positioning myself carefully, wary of dislodging something, of hurting him. I placed my head on his shoulder and felt the welcome weight of his head come to rest against mine. His lower arm lifted, gently hooking me in. We lay there in silence for a while, listening to the soft-shoe shuffle of the nurses outside, the distant conversation.
‘I thought you were dead,’ I whispered.
‘Apparently some amazing woman who shouldn’t have been in the back of the ambulance managed to slow my blood loss.’
‘That’s some woman.’
‘I thought so.’
I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his skin against my cheek, the unwelcome scent of chemical disinfectant emanating from his body. I didn’t think about anything. I just let myself exist in the moment, the deep, deep pleasure of being there next to him, of feeling the weight of him beside me, the space he took up in the atmosphere. I shifted my head and kissed the soft skin on the inside of his arm, and felt his fingers trace their way gently through my hair.
‘You scared me, Ambulance Sam.’
There was a long silence. I could hear him thinking the million things he chose not to say.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said eventually.
We lay there for a bit longer, in silence. And when the nurse finally came in and raised an eyebrow at my proximity to various important tubes and wires, I climbed reluctantly off the bed and obeyed her instructions to get some breakfast while she did her medical thing. I kissed him, a little self-consciously, and when I stroked his hair his eyes lifted slightly at the corners and I saw, with gratitude, something of what I was to him. ‘I’ll be back after my shift,’ I said.
‘You might bump into my parents.’ He said it as a warning.
‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll make sure I’m not wearing my Fuck Da Police T-shirt.’
He laughed, then grimaced, as if laughing were painful.
I fussed around a little while the nurses were seeing to him, doing the things that people do at patients’ bedsides when they’re simply looking for an excuse to hang around; I put out some fruit, disposed of a tissue, organized some magazines that I knew he wouldn’t read. And then it was time to go. I had made it as far as the door when he spoke. ‘I heard you.’
My hand was outstretched, ready to open it. I turned.
‘Last night. When I was bleeding out. I heard you.’
Our eyes locked. And in that moment everything shifted. I saw what I had really done. I saw that I could be somebody’s centre, their reason for staying. I saw that I could be enough. I walked back, took Sam’s face in my hands and kissed him fiercely, feeling hot tears fall unchecked onto his face, his arm pulling me in tightly as he kissed me back. I pressed my cheek against his, half laughing, half weeping, oblivious to the nurses, to anything except the man before me. Then, finally, I turned and walked downstairs, wiping my face, laughing at my tears, ignoring the curious faces of the people who passed.
The day was beautiful, even under strip-lights. Outside birds sang, a new morning dawned, people lived and grew and got better and looked forward to getting older. I bought a coffee and ate an over-sweet muffin and they tasted like the most delicious things I had ever had. I sent messages to my parents, to Treena, to Richard, telling him I would be in shortly. I texted Lily: Thought you might want to know Sam is in hospital. He got shot but he’s okay. I know he’d love it if you dropped him a card. Or even just a text if you’re busy.
The answer pinged back within seconds. I smiled. How did girls of that age type so quickly when they did everything else so slowly?
OMG. I just told the other girls and I’m basically now the coolest person they know. Seriously though give him my love. If you text me his details I’ll get him a card after school. Oh and I’m sorry for showing off to him in my pants that time. I didn’t mean it. Like not in a pervy way. Hope you guys are really happy. Xxx
