‘Just a few more steps, Lucy,’ he says in his strong Eastern European accent, which makes him sound like a Soviet gymnastics coach.
‘Piss off.’
‘Igor, I am so sorry,’ Emma intervenes, horrified.
‘I’m not. If I could actually control how I pee and I can’t because I’ve had a tube up my bits for a month then I would pee everywhere and mostly in his general direction.’
Emma shakes her head for the shame. Meg laughs from behind a hand covering her mouth.
‘It’s all right, Emma. I get a lot of abuse. An old lady hit me with a walking stick yesterday.’
‘I like this lady,’ I say. ‘Me and her can be friends. Give her my number.’
I push my walker (yes, my old lady walker) a few more steps and glare at all of them. Are you not entertained? I did the walking. Now let me rest and watch some bad television.
‘Have you been doing the stretches like we discussed?’ Igor asks me.
‘Yeah?’
Meg raises her eyebrows at me and I stick a middle finger up at her.
‘I’m putting down that your middle finger still seems to work,’ Igor says, scribbling in his notes. He’s not just into torture, he’s also into sarcasm. If only my lower leg had the power to kick him in the balls. ‘These exercises are important. You’re leaving here soon. I want you to have some basic mobility back for the everyday. To be able to take a shower, turn on a kettle, write a letter?’
‘To your mother, telling her that she bore a son who is a harbinger of pain?’
‘She loves a letter. Nice quality paper, please. Her name is Magda.’
This would be a worthy exchange if he was in the slightest bit good-looking but he has hair like he belongs on the cover of a romance novel – proper eighties Bon Jovi locks with a bit of a curl.
‘Lucy, I got in Igor because he is the best at what he does. He’s right. We need to get you back into real life and ensure all your muscles don’t seize up. Please listen to him,’ Emma pleads with me.
‘But I quite like the sponge baths in bed and people bringing me hot drinks and sushi. I don’t need to do anything. In any case, I can’t work. I don’t think I can really leave the house because my head is all shaved and stitched like a Frankenmonster so essentially I’d be lounging around anyway, waiting for my memory to come back.’
‘So you basically just want to be a lazy bitch?’ Igor says.
Meg sniggers again, quietly.
Seriously, Emma? She’s paying this man to hurt and insult me?
‘I’m allowed. I got hit by a bus. I’m owed some time off and to be waited on hand and foot.’
‘For a while but you still need to do some things independently that require mobility,’ Igor continues. ‘To get to the toilet? You want someone changing your tampons forever?’
‘Some people might find that kinky,’ I reply.
Emma is on a high blush now. Did she not warn the physio man that I come with a tongue? The knock I got to my head clearly did little to level out my disposition.
‘Well, that’s one lucky man who’ll get to do that for life.’
It won’t be you. Don’t worry, Igor.
‘Well, we are done, Miss Lucy. I will see you again tomorrow. I will leave those hand-grip trainers on the table for you. Please use them.’
I smile. ‘Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Igor.’
‘You will and you will love it,’ he replies.
I hate you.He gathers his belongings and Emma walks with him out of the room as I pull faces at his back.
