‘I don’t need sorting.’
‘I think you’ll find you do.’
Yeah, he could guess what kind of sorting she would like to do to him.
With the crutches in position, he hopped forwards, his progress slow and hesitant. Despite the rubber ends, Walter was scared they would slip and he’d fall, as Beth had predicted. Nowthat she’d put the idea in his head, he couldn’t shift it. Thanks, Beth.
As he gingerly hopped and swung his way through the dining room, he was all too aware of Beth inches from his elbow, ready to catch him should the worst happen. What use would she be if he did topple over, was anyone’s guess. He was more likely to take her down with him and Dulcie would then have two patients on her hands, not one.
‘No need to stand so close,’ he hissed. Dulcie was on a call, headphones on, her eyes focused on the computer screen.
‘There’s no point in me being four feet away, is there?’
She was so close Walter could smell her perfume. Or maybe it was her shampoo or the washing powder she used. Whatever it was, he liked it.
Dulcie shot them a look and put her finger to her lips.
‘I don’t need you to accompany me to the toilet,’ Walter insisted.
‘Don’t be stubborn. Otto had to take you this morning.’
‘That’s because I wasn’t used to the crutches.’
‘And you arenow?’ Beth sounded incredulous.
‘I’m getting the hang of them,’ he insisted.
‘Shh!’ Dulcie was frowning and shaking her head.
Beth said, ‘Get a move on, you’re disturbing Dulcie.’
‘I’m going as fast as I can. And you’re the one who’s disturbing her, not me.’
‘Excuse me, for a second,’ Dulcie said, and removed her headphones. ‘Do you mind? I’m trying to deal with a customer complaint here.’
‘See?’ Walter hissed. ‘I told you that you’re disturbing her.’
Dulcie huffed. ‘It’s both of you. Please keep the noise down. If you want to bicker, do it in the living room – quietly.’
‘I don’t want to bicker,’ Beth said. ‘He started it.’
‘You sound like Sammy,’ Walter retorted.
‘Better than sounding like a miserable old codger.’
‘I’m only miserable because you make me miserable.’
‘Mum! Walter!Stop it. If you don’t keep the noise down, I swear I’ll go and work at the restaurant and leave the pair of you to slug it out on your own.’
Walter was immediately contrite. ‘Sorry, Dulcie.’ He stared at Beth, who glared stonily at him before adding her own apology.
Walter carried on walking (if you could call it walking) and managed to get as far as the bathroom without pausing. Once inside, he bolted the door and leant against it.
His shoulders were sore, his arms were aching, and so was his good leg. Being injured was no joke when you were his age, and he briefly wished he had accepted the hospital’s offer to refer him for assessment for a wheelchair. But, then again, he would never get a wheelchair through the farmhouse’s narrow doorways.
There was nothing for it, he would have to get used to the crutches. Short dabs, every so often, would give him a bit of practice without overdoing it. But right now, making it to theloo and back was practice enough. Maybe he’d feel a bit stronger tomorrow.
And maybe pigs might fly. He was kidding himself if he thought he would bounce back in a matter of days. It was going to take a couple of weeks. He hated having to admit it, but the fall and the operation had taken it out of him, and he felt he was almost back to where he’d started when he’d suffered the collapse last year.
