‘Fin, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, OK?’ Someone was by his head, talking loudly in his ear. ‘My name is Mike and I’m going to be getting you to a hospital as quickly as I can.’
It’s too loud and too bright.
I just need to sleep.
‘Fin, can you hear me?’ the voice asked. ‘I need you toopen your eyes. We’ve called your friend Eleanor and we’ve asked her to meet us at the hospital.’
No. She can’t see me like this.
He tried to speak, to tell this man that no matter what, Eleanor must not see him like this, but his mouth was too full of blood and his tongue too heavy and swollen to form words.
‘Don’t try to talk, we need you to keep as still as possible.’ Fin felt himself being lifted into the air. ‘It’s going to be OK. You’re going to be OK,’ the man repeated.
Eleanor
‘Next, please,’ the receptionist called.
‘Hi!’ Eleanor practically hurled herself at the young man. ‘My friend was brought here yesterday morning. I don’t know where he is but I was told to come to this hospital,’ she blurted. ‘A man named Mike … a paramedic called Mike left me a message and I only listened to it last night because I’m a complete stubborn idiot. I came here as quickly as I could but you turned me away because visiting hours were over, but now I’m here and I’d really like to see him, please.’ She had barely paused for breath, and the young man was looking as though he’d been hit by a hurricane.
‘Name?’ he said slowly, his face still a little startled.
‘I’m Eleanor Levy.’
‘No. I meant the patient’s name.’
Eleanor blushed at her mistake. ‘Oh … it’s Finley Taylor.’
‘One moment, please.’ He began typing into his computer, all the while his eyes flicking back to Eleanor asthough she herself could do with being admitted. So what if she hadn’t managed to wash her hair this morning, or even put a brush through it? And did it matter that she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday because she’d barely been able to sleep all night and her brain couldn’t function properly?
‘OK, he was moved out of intensive care to orthopaedics so you’ll be needing the third floor. Follow the signs and check in at the reception there,’ he announced.
Intensive care.
The words sent shock waves through her.
God, Fin, what have you done to yourself?
‘Thank you,’ Eleanor mumbled, darting her head back and forth, trying to find the stairs.
‘The stairs are over there.’ The receptionist pointed to the left, clearly sensing her flustered disorientation.
‘Right, yes, over there.’ She dashed across the foyer, weaving between the milling crowds. Everyone was going too slowly – didn’t they have somewhere to be? Someone to see? Eleanor raced up the stairs, through the door and along the third-floor corridor. She didn’t care that she was breathless and sweating by the time she arrived at the reception. She had to know he was all right. That was all she needed.
‘Hello, are you OK there, sweetie?’ A jolly red-haired lady looked up from her computer.
‘Hi,’ Eleanor panted. ‘I’m here to see my friend. His name is Finley Taylor.’
‘Oh ho! You must be Eleanor?’ The lady’s face shone even brighter than before.
‘Err, yes, that’s me.’ The confusion gave way to guilt. Clearly they had been waiting for her to arrive.
‘Wonderful. Let me see if he’s out of surgery yet.’ She peered over the desk. ‘Helen?’ she called. ‘Helen, my love.’
A thin, tired but cheery-looking nurse poked her head around the corner. ‘Yes?’
‘I’ve got Eleanor here for Fin. Is he out of surgery yet?’
‘No, he only went in a couple of hours ago.’ She turned to look at Eleanor. ‘I can take you through to wait for him, if you’d like? He shouldn’t be too long.’
