‘Right, Alice, can you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and we can help lower you into the chair?’
What if she said no? If she refused to move, what was the worst that could happen? Were they really going to force her out of bed? Judging by the look on Nurse Angles’ face, she knew she didn’t want the answer to that question.
Alice shifted ever so slightly to sit up taller. Slowly she began to slide her right leg across the bed and down. She didn’t know what all the fuss was about; sure, it felt a bit stiff, but she was fine. Then came the left leg. The first attempt at movement set her nerves alight. The wound coverings shifted across her skin, sending shivers down her spine. How had she become so weak?
‘Try to use your arms, honey.’ Nurse Angles was watching her with such intensity it hurt to look.
Alice planted her hands down either side of her hips. Her face had tightened in concentration and she could feel the frown lines digging deep into her forehead.
Come on, just lift yourself up.
Alice pushed down as hard as she could but immediately felt her arms give way.
She sensed the room hold its breath.
‘Do you mind if I help you?’ Nurse Angles stepped forward cautiously. What else could she do? Hang off the side of the bed until she practically fell on to the floor? Thehumiliation of it burnt a hole inside her chest. What had she become? This accident had taken more than just her looks; it had sucked every last drop of pride and strength she had left. The shame of it was too much to bear. Reluctantly Alice nodded her head.
‘OK, sweetie. I’m going to really gently move this leg, OK? Just squeeze my arm if I’m hurting you.’
Slowly and ever so gently, Nurse Angles lifted her left leg up and round. It felt so foreign to be held like this. Sadness and repulsion collided, making her head swim with nausea.
Let it be over, please God, let it be over.
‘Wonderful, you’re doing amazingly. Now, I’m going to ask you to shift your weight on to me and I’m going to lower you into the chair, OK?’
It was like being a child again. Helpless, useless, and entirely dependent on someone else. The ordeal made Alice want to rip herself apart and scream until the entire hospital felt her pain, but instead she surrendered, falling limply into Nurse Angles’ arms and allowing herself to be carried into the chair.
‘Perfect. Now, let’s wheel you out quickly and get you to Darren.’ Her calm controlled voice was the only anchor keeping Alice from losing it. ‘Sally, open the curtains, please.’
And just like that, she was rolled out into the big wide world of the ward.
10
Alfie
Alfie had tried not to listen to the sounds of the scene next door, but it was impossible not to. He winced listening to the encouragement of Nurse Angles, remembering all too well how it felt to struggle to hold yourself upright. The unbelievable amount of strength it took to move even an inch. How demoralizing it was to be carried like a defenceless infant. Alfie knew how any scrap of pride or ego could be shattered overnight, as in the blink of an eye your survival was placed in the hands of a team of strangers.
Guilt and – as much as he was loath to admit it – pity started to rise up inside him. How unfair they’d all been. Sharon had been wrong. His neighbour hadn’t demanded anything; this had all come from Nurse Angles as a ploy to help her. He vowed to put the record straight and tell Sharon as soon as he could.
The sound of the wheelchair being rolled back across the floor to her bay was the signal they’d all been waiting for. An hour later the session had finished. It was over. But no one dared move an inch until Nurse Angles had spoken.
‘Right, everyone, you’re free to get up.’ Nurse Angles’ voice rang out over the ward.
‘About bloody time too!’ Mr Peterson groaned loudly.
‘Until next time you herd us all back in like cattle again!’ Sharon barked.
‘How long are we going to have to do this for, nurse? I’ll make sure I’ve got snacks next time.’ Jackie smirked.
‘Every other week, until I say otherwise. So you’d better get the food supplies sorted sharpish.’
Disgruntled mumblings and restless shuffling rippled down the ward, but despite the green light no one moved. Curtains remained firmly closed and the patients stayed dutifully in their beds. Whether it was out of lethargy or protest Alfie couldn’t be sure; all he knew was that even his trusted puzzles couldn’t distract him. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept wandering back to her. When he’d heard her being wheeled through the ward, an overwhelming urge to take a look had come over him. All he’d have to do was take a small peek through his curtains. All he wanted was a glimpse of the person at the centre of the whole charade. Who was this woman? How badly was she hurt? Even to see the back of her head would have given him some kind of satisfaction, but he knew better. All eyes would be on red alert for any peeping Toms, and Alfie didn’t fancy being called out as the rule breaker in front of everyone. Plus, curiosity was no excuse for disrespect.
Taking a deep breath, he hauled himself up, reaching this time for his crutches over the dreaded prosthesis. After walking, his stump would often be sore and sensitive, so he’d allow himself a few moments to take a break. Even though the confinement had ceased, he still felt nervous about leaving his bay. An old childish fear of being told off lingered over him.
‘Mother A, have you got a minute?’ Alfie approached the nurses’ station cautiously.
‘Of course.’ She looked flustered and a bit out of sorts.
