His mind began to race with the possibilities.
‘Oh, before I forget.’ The nurse pointed at the pile of belongings on the chair by his bed. ‘ICU brought those up whilst you were in surgery. Your friend must have been sorting through them before she had to go. Would you like me to put them away for you?’
Fin’s stomach contracted violently. Something was trying to fight its way to the front of his awareness, but the cotton-wool lining of the anaesthesia was keeping it at bay.
‘No.’ He shook his head slightly. ‘Can you pass them here, please?’ There was a quake in his voice that he prayed only he’d noticed.
‘Sure.’ She hurried around his bed and handed him the pile of items. ‘I’ll be back in a bit with that morphine. Meanwhile, stay put and don’t wander off anywhere, will you?’ She laughed loudly at her own joke, tapping the plaster cast around his leg gently.
Impatient to look through the heap of damaged goods inhis hands, Fin could only offer half a smile in response. He waited until he was alone before he began his inspection. There was his watch, frozen in time and cracked. His phone, dead to the world, covered in scuffs and scratches. Fin turned them over in his hands, mourning their wounds just as keenly as his own. But there was something more important he needed to find; everything else would have to wait. He sifted through the remnants of his torn and bloodied clothes until he found his jacket. The sleeves were ripped and hanging limply by their stitches, but the main body was still intact. Fin reached inside and felt for the letter. The letter he had placed carefully in the inside pocket so that it would be safe, hidden from the world and kept close to his heart.
Where the hell is it?
He turned the material inside out and shook it. It had to be here. Someone must have found it and put it with his stuff. Panic joined the pain throbbing in his head. He rifled frantically through the rest of his stuff but it wasn’t there.
She’d found her letter.
And she’d left.
She’d read his words.
And she’d gone.
She couldn’t even bear to say goodbye.
*
The rest of the night was spent in a series of disturbed dreams and fitful waking. Fin’s mind couldn’t settle. Images of Eleanor reading his words and fleeing continued to haunt him and the pain in his body was making it hard to relax. By the time the morning came, he was desperate for somethingto take the edge off and lull him into a deep and mindless sleep.
‘Good morning.’ A different but still oddly familiar nurse poked her head around the curtain. Fin was lying wide awake, his body so tired it was frozen still, but his mind continued to whirr relentlessly. ‘How did you sleep?’ she asked, unable to hide the flicker of concern on her face as she registered him properly.
‘Not great,’ he replied flatly, the effort of speaking already proving an exhausting task.
‘I can see that. You look spent! Was it the pain?’ She picked up his notes from the end of his bed and began to study them intently. ‘It says here you had the maximum dose of morphine so it should have taken the edge off somewhat.’
‘Hmmm,’ Fin replied pathetically. ‘Bad dreams.’
‘Ah.’ The nurse nodded. ‘That would make sense.’ She came back round to stand by his head, placing a warm gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘Let’s get you some breakfast and see how you feel after that. I’ll check with the doctor if there’s anything more we can do. Sound like a plan?’
‘Thank you.’ He sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head sink back fully into the scratchy pillow beneath him.
‘Try and rest, I’ll be back with your food shortly.’ He heard her soft voice disappear behind the swish of the curtain.
And try he did. The entire morning was spent with his eyes half closed and his mind focused determinedly on sleeping, but it was no use. At best he drifted off into a strange half-dream state where flashing lights and screeching car tyres woke him abruptly. He had no true memory of the accident, only fragments of sensations. The smell of the tarmac as he lay face down in his own blood. The sound of panicand screaming. The crushing impact as the force of the car hit him. Maybe it was better that way. Not knowing fully what his own stupid actions had led to.
Ignorance is bliss.
He sighed and tried to find another comfortable position, a task made extremely difficult when his range of motion extended to turning his head and moving his arms. How the hell was he supposed to get back to LA in this state? Surely he wouldn’t be cleared to fly for at least a few weeks. Cold dread snaked through his veins, but he didn’t have too long to dwell on it as he heard voices approaching his bay.
‘He might be asleep so let me pop my head in and check. He had a rough night last night and so if he’s dozing, I don’t want to wake him. Fin?’ a tentative voice called out.
The red-haired nurse’s face appeared between the blue cloth curtains. ‘Oh. Hello there, wide awake I see.’ She beamed cheerfully. ‘There’s someone here to see you if you’re up for it?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Fin tried to sound calm but his heart was beating furiously. Had she come back? What on earth was he going to say to her? Maybe he could pretend it was all a joke? The questions were suddenly silenced as the curtain was drawn back.
‘Freya?’ He couldn’t help the tone of surprise.
‘Fin!’ she cried, almost flinging herself on to the bed. ‘What thehellhappened? You look awful.’
