“Nick? Don’t move. The ambulance is coming. They’ll be here in a minute. It will all be alright. Just hold on.” My sobbing breaths join the disappearing moos of the cows and the distant wail of a siren as I sink down on the wet road, gripping his hand.
If something happens to Nick now … I can’t finish the thought. It feels like all my worst fears are coming true, and I did this to myself. I think I hear him mumble, but I can’t be sure over the wail of the siren as Teddy pulls up.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Nick Pierce,” I whisper.
Teddy laughs when I fill him in on what happened as his offsider opens up the rig and slides out the gurney. I’d laugh at the absurdity, too, if Nick wasn’t unconscious on the road.
“Oh, Teddy. Please be careful. It’s Nick. I think I heard him groan. I think he might have fractured his skull. Will he be alright?” I can feel the hitch in my breath as I start to hyperventilate.
Teddy takes me by the shoulders, pulls me to my feet and moves me out of the way.
“We’ve got this. Stay out of the way.”
The ambos fly into action, talking to Nick and each other the whole time, serious but calm. I don’t understand most of what they’re saying, but I do hear the occasional moan from Nick. It’s impossible to stand still, and I pace on the narrow road until I realise Dad won’t know what’s happened. Calling him at least gives me something to do.
“Da. Nick has had an accident,” I gasp out.
Dad and Morag arrive as Teddy and his partner are getting Nick onto the gurney, with a brace around his neck and some sort of board at his back. His eyes are rolling around in his head, but at least they’re open.
“I’m going with him.”
Teddy looks like he might argue but thinks better of it.
Dad moves Nick’s rental to the side of the road. “You go. I’ll follow in the Range Rover,” Dad says, climbing into the car I’ve left in the middle of the road, the door hanging open.
There’s no hospital in the tiny village nearby, so we head down the coast to a little hospital near the mainland. It’s not far, but it seems to take forever. At least they let me hold Nick’s hand, until they rush him out of the ambulance and into emergency.
Dad arrives only minutes after us, and I fall into his arms.
“Oh, Da. I only just got him back. What if …” I can’t even give voice to the words. This right here is why I don’t do relationships. But it’s too late now. I’m in. Pain and loss and all.
“Now, now. Don’t be thinking like that, pet. He’s young and strong. He’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”
I can feel the tears leaking from my eyes, running hot and fast down my cheeks and disappearing into the cashmere scarf I have wrapped around my neck. Dad wrestles my wet socks off my freezing feet, cajoles the nurse into giving me some of the blue booties they wear on their shoes in theatre and puts me in a chair.
It feels like hours, although the clock on the wall tells me it’s only been twenty minutes, before a young doctor I don’t know comes through the doors to the emergency department. Da appears to know him though.
“Mr MacLeod. I understand you’re here to see Nick Pierce. Are you a relative?”
“Oh, give over, Malcolm. You know who I am. He’s from Australia. There are no relatives here, yeamadan.”
“Yes. I’m his fiancée.” I jump up. I have no qualms about telling the lie. I will be his fiancée. As soon as he wakes up. I squeeze the ring box I dropped into my pocket before leaving home.
“I see. Well, we’ve a concern he’s fractured his skull, so we want to do an MRI to rule out a brain bleed. We can call you when it’s over if ye like.”
My heart plummets. “Fractured skull? Brain bleed?” The panic I had almost managed to get under control starts to build again, and I can feel my breathing and heart rate ratcheting up.
“The MRI is a precaution. The fact he’s conscious suggests a bleed is unlikely. Probably more like a grade three or four concussion. Otherwise, there’s a couple of cracked ribs from the coo horn and a few cuts and bruises. Nothing too serious.”
My knees buckle and I feel a strong arm around my shoulders, as Da gently pushes me into the nearest chair.
“Your bedside manner could do with some work, Malcolm.” Da says, in his best Laird of the Manor’s voice, causing Malcolm to wince. “We’ll wait.”
I feel faint, my head swimming, black dots peppering my vision. I wish I could put my head between my knees, but my stomach gets in the way, reminding me I need to keep a lid on my anxiety, if only for the sake of Nick’s baby.
We wait as people come and go through the swinging doors for what seems like hours, but when I check my phone, it’s not been much more than an hour. I’m close to losing my mind when a middle-aged woman in scrubs pushes through the swinging doors. “Nick Pierce’s family?” Her eyes are tired, but she’s smiling.
Da leaps to his feet and has his arm around my shoulder again before she has a chance to speak.
