‘I’m Nurse Angles and I’ll be overseeing your treatment while you’re here. I know you’re not comfortable talking, so whenever I ask you something all I need is a simple nod yes or shake no – can we at least manage that? Otherwise it’s going to be hard for me to make sure you’re comfortable.’
Maybe she could forgive the term of endearment if this nurse wasn’t going to try and force her to talk.
Alice nodded.
‘Wonderful. Well, welcome to the Moira Gladstone ward. Let’s do a quick change of your dressings and then we can discuss the treatment plan.’
Alice glared at Nurse Angles, keeping her arm just out of reach.
‘I know it’s uncomfortable but I will need to change the dressing.’
Uncomfortable? Just lying still was scarcely bearable. The itching of the skin as it tried to heal itself, knitting together with the foreign slabs of flesh they’d stitched on to her. Any movement, even breathing, would tug and pull at the skin, making her wince in pain. Sometimes it was a sharp pain, like a hundred knives slashing and tearing at her; other times it was a deep dull ache that would sit in her bones and weigh her down.
‘I need to make sure your dressings are clean, Alice.’ The nurse tentatively reached for her arm again. ‘Please.’
Reluctantly Alice allowed herself to be taken and tended to. She hated it when they did this. Not only did she have to feel the covering being peeled off her raw flesh, but it alsomeant she had to see the damage in all its glory. No hiding. No masking. A melting pot of skin and bone, fighting to heal but still falling short. Yet the exasperation in the nurse’s voice pulled at something inside her. She didn’t mean to cause a fuss, but she had gone too long without saying anything and it felt too hard to break the silence now.
‘I’ve been given the handover from your doctor and there’s a lot we need to start doing to get you fit, healthy and out of here.’ Nurse Angles scanned the sheet of paper on her clipboard. ‘You’re off the oxygen now, which is great, wound care will remain pretty much the same, pain relief can start to be decreased slowly, and we’ll have to start physio.’ She squeezed herself into the chair next to Alice’s bed. ‘And that, honey, means you’re going to have to get yourself up and out of this bed.’
Fear drenched her like ice-cold water. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t get up. Alice started to shake her head furiously; adrenaline made her stomach churn and her fists clench tightly. Nurse Angles rested her hand on the bed.
‘It’s OK, Alice. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to panic you.’ Alice felt her breathing slow just a little; the weight of Nurse Angles’ hand next to her was having a calming effect. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but we do need to get you moving. You’ve been lying down for so long it’s important we build your strength up quickly. Let me speak to the physio and see what we can do, OK?’
Alice closed her eyes and drew a long deep breath into her lungs.
It’s OK. It’s going to be OK.
‘I’ll let you rest now, sweetie. Like I said, leave it with me and we’ll work something out.’
Just work out how you can stop this hell. Please.
8
Alfie
He knew his neighbour had arrived the moment he woke up. The curtains around the bay next to him were fully closed, and from inside he could hear the familiar sound of Nurse Angles running through her routine introduction. It was a rare occurrence to transfer people at night, so everyone on the ward knew the red carpet really was being rolled out. Alfie could see the familiar faces of the other patients craning their necks to try and sneak a glimpse, as Nurse Angles expertly extracted herself from the curtains without revealing an inch of what lay within.
‘Did you see her?’ Mr Peterson mouthed, waving at him from across the room.
Alfie shook his head; it was too early and he was too tired from a rather disturbed night’s sleep to respond properly. He tried to settle himself back down, longing for a few more hours of rest to help him get through the day. But just as he closed his eyes he heard it.
A cough. A ragged, heavy and painful cough coming from behind the tightly closed curtains.
He bit his tongue and resisted asking if everything was OK. The sound alone told him it was a no. The rest of the morning followed the same pattern. Silence punctuated by that excruciating cough, over and over again. It took Alfie a huge amount of self-control to stay quiet. It was in his nature to care; in fact, all Alfie ever wanted to do was help. That desire for good coupled with his uncanny ability to connect with people was the main reason why Alfie was so good at his job. ‘Those that can’t, teach’ everyone would joke. Fuck that, he always said. Those that can change lives, teach. But he had promised Nurse Angles to stay clear, and so he needed to be cautious.
For the rest of the day, Alfie did his best to distract himself. He managed to pass a good hour or two with his puzzle books, but it was hard not to get caught up in the hushed excitement that was mounting in the ward. The nurses would come and go, talking at her as they went, but still the lady behind the curtain said nothing. The other patients became so intrigued as to who the mysterious new guest was that they started to gather in small groups, whispering their suspicions and throwing wild guesses around like confetti.
‘Do you think she’s even in there?’ Jackie asked.
‘This isn’t some elaborate joke they’re playing on us! Of course she’s in there.’ Mr Peterson laughed dismissively.
‘I’m going to ask the nurses about her. The young ones always let slip things they shouldn’t.’ Sharon’s voice rose in excitement.
Alfie lay in his bed, half listening to the mutterings of his friends and half worrying that the lady next to him could hear them. Maybe she was asleep? Perhaps that would explain her silence.
‘Can we not just stand around here like lemons, please?’One of the nurses strode through the ward. ‘Surely you have better things to do with your time?’
His friends shifted uncomfortably.
