‘You can’t save them all, Vic.’ His tone is full of compassion.
‘Says the war hero.’
He knocks back the remnants of his drink in one large gulp. Glassy eyes stare into the distance. ‘I’m no hero.’
‘Of course you are. You even have medals to prove it.’ They might be tucked away in his bedside locker, but they’re his.
‘I should have handed them back. I don’t deserve them.’ Nudging me from his lap, he crosses the room and returns with the whiskey bottle to top us both up.
‘Archie, why would you say such a thing? Everyone speaks so highly of you. Says how amazingly well you coped with what happened when you were in the army. Positive. Hopeful. Unscarred, mentally at least.’ He flops back on the leather beside me. My fingers instinctively trace over the mottled skin lining his left shoulder.
‘Is that what you think?’ he snorts, brushing my hand from his body. ‘Those are nothing compared to what’s on the inside. I just hide it better than most, Vic. We all have our demons. Smile often, crack a few jokes, and most people don’t notice.’
The doorbell rings. We exchange a wary look.
Archie pulls up the security camera linked to his phone, and a whiskey-scented sigh whooshes from his mouth. ‘You’ve got company.’
He angles the screen so I can see. Libby and Mel stand, hopping from foot to foot, at the front door, their faces barely visible behind an enormous bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.
Archie goes to the door and my friends traipse up the stairs like a herd of noisy elephants. I don’t get up, instead, simply pat the couch next to me. The spot Archie just vacated.
‘We heard what happened on the ward today.’ Libby dumps the blooming lilies on the coffee table and throws her arms around me.
‘The whole campus is talking about it,’ Mel sympathises.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ they say simultaneously.
Archie fetches two wine glasses and pours from the bottle they brought. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her.’
Libby’s head whips round quick enough to snap her neck. Sharp blue eyes volley between Archie and me.
‘Oh my God. You two have had sex.’ Her fingers fly over her mouth like she can’t believe she said the words out loud.
‘What? No.’ It’s a battle to muster the energy to deny it. My cheeks singe and, despite the harrowing horrors of the day, a small smile tugs at my lips. I bite it back, but not before they notice.
‘So this is why you’ve been refusing my invitations to party!’ Mel’s index finger pokes me directly in the sternum.
Archie is suddenly intrigued by the contents of his glass.
‘You want to practice your poker face, guys. I can only imagine what Sasha will say when she realises her baby sister is banging the bodyguard.’ Libby slaps my thigh gleefully. ‘Tell us everything.’
‘Is he as capable as he looks?’ Mel squeals, running her fingers through her scarlet spiky hair and sloshing wine over my leather couch.
She speaks about my boyfriend as if he isn’t standing his allocated five feet away.
Boyfriend.
The word doesn’t do justice to what Archie is to me. He’s become my closest confidant. My best friend. Running partner. And lover. All in a matter of weeks. Well, I suppose there are the last five years we unknowingly pined for each other to take into consideration too.
‘Girls, I thought you came here to comfort me, not interrogate me.’
‘We came to distract you, sweetie, but clearly someone beat us to it.’ Libby raises her glass in a silent cheers, flicking her long blonde ponytail from her shoulder.
Archie shrugs and makes himself scarce while I share a couple of drinks with my amazing girlfriends.
Today’s loss doesn’t leave me, but the company of my two favourite friends eases my sorrows, for a short while at least. Listening to their shared experiences, the patients they’ve lost, helps to bring home what I already know. What Archie said. We can’t save them all.
But the lives I can’t save always mentally morph into my parents. And today, I morphed into that little girl, Lily-May.
