The other nurse returned with the writing materials and took down Ronnie’s details.
‘So, you live in Whippingham? Now there’s a coincidence, so does Nurse Mason. She goes off duty soon. She’ll take the information to the police station and they’ll make sure your family knows where you are. You’ll do that for him, won’t you, Nurse Mason?’
Ronnie couldn’t help but notice that Nurse Mason didn’t seem particularly pleased to receive this additional job when she was off duty, but she reluctantly replied, ‘Yes, Sister.’
The rest of the day was a series of temperature and blood-pressure checks, lights shining in his eyes, meals on trays and bottles to tuck beneath the sheets. Eventually, that evening, they let him get out of bed and walk around a bit. The doctor had said that he couldn’t be discharged until they were sure that he didn’t have any post-concussion symptoms, no signs of dizziness or headaches, no problems with concentration or memory. He felt fine, but he knew he should do as he was told. There would be all hell to pay from Dot and Amelia if he disobeyed the rules.
Visiting hours were from eleven until twelve and from three until four. At eleven o’clock precisely the following day, Dot walked towards his bedside, a look of deep concern on her face. She kissed him gently on the forehead and said, ‘Thank God you’re all right. When the policeman told us that you were in hospital, we were so worried. He said that you were injured rescuing a child. What happened exactly?’
‘Apparently, I jumped in the sea after him. I really don’t remember much about it,’ Ronnie explained. ‘They tell me the boy is fine too.’
‘Well, you’re both safe and that’s the main thing. Quite the hero so the nurses say. They’re looking after you here, I see,’ Dot replied, glancing at the tea and biscuits on his bedside table.
‘Yes. With any luck I’ll be out of here by tomorrow,’ Ronnie said.
‘You just stay where you are until you’re fit to come home,’ Dot said. ‘I’ve been to Saunders-Roe this morning and told them that you’ll be off work for at least the rest of the week. Mr Farthing sends his good wishes and Amelia sends her love; she’ll come this afternoon.’
‘Really, there’s no need for her to come. They’ll probably discharge me tomorrow,’ Ronnie insisted.
‘We’ll see,’ Dot replied. ‘You’ve given us quite a shock. When that policeman knocked on our door last night, my heart missed a few beats. Do you realise that the last time you gave me such a scare was when you fell in the river in Micklewell? You were only five. Good job we made sure that you could swim after that little episode.’
By the time Dot had left, Ronnie felt worn out. He ate his lunch and then dozed for a while until he was woken by the visitors arriving on the ward. The hum of chattering voices circulated around him and he sat himself up. His eyes moved towards the door. Would Amelia come? He hoped not. She would have quite a rush to get here after school had finished. She worked too hard.
A young woman appeared at the entrance to the ward, holding a small child by the hand. She wore a grey dress with a bright-green cardigan and her reddish hair was clipped back from her face, a very pretty face, Ronnie thought. She said something to Nurse Mason, who pointed in Ronnie’s direction.
She stopped at the bottom of his bed and smiled at him. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I’m Sarah Jones and this is Anthony. Say hello to the kind gentleman, Anthony. He saved you from the water.’
Anthony hid his face in his mother’s skirt. She gently encouraged him to let go, and came and sat on the bedside chair, pulling Anthony onto her lap.
‘I’m so grateful to you for saving young Anthony’s life. How can I ever repay you?’ she said.
‘It’s no more than anyone else would have done,’ Ronnie replied.
‘But no one else did. It was you who jumped in after him, you who got him to the rescue boat and you who ended up in here for your troubles. I’m so sorry you got hurt,’ Sarah said.
Ronnie dismissed her concerns. ‘It’s nothing.’ He smiled at Anthony and said, ‘I suppose I look a bit like Jack, don’t I? You know, Jack and Jill went up the hill?’ Anthony didn’t respond, so he turned to Sarah. ‘Perhaps he’s too young to know the rhyme,’ he said.
‘He’s three,’ Sarah replied.’ And he loves his nursery rhymes. Don’t you, Anthony?’
The child didn’t respond, but gazed at Ronnie’s bandaged head. Anthony then put his thumb in his mouth and turned his face into his mother’s chest.
‘I’d like to thank you in some way,’ Sarah said. ‘I’ve written my address down for you. Please come and see us. I’d like to offer you tea. I’m a good cake maker, even if I do say so myself, and I always bake on a Saturday. Please come and have tea with us in a week or so, when you’re fully recovered. I expect this weekend you’ll be only too pleased to be at home with your family.’
Ronnie took in the bright, smiling green eyes that complemented her red hair and noticed the slight freckles on her cheeks. Her voice had a lilt that he found very pleasing and somehow, he felt relaxed in her company. He hoped he wasn’t staring too hard at her.
‘Thank you, that’s very kind, but you don’t have to . . .’
‘I want to. As long as you’ve not got anything else arranged?’
‘No, nothing. My aunt and guardian might have some odd jobs lined up for me, but other than that our weekends are usually quiet,’ Ronnie said.
‘You live with your aunt?’ Sarah asked.
‘Yes, in Whippingham,’ Ronnie replied.
‘I live in East Cowes, York Avenue, number three. It’s a big house divided into rooms,’ Sarah explained. ‘We have Room Two on the ground floor. York Avenue is about a fifteen-minute walk from the port — do you know it?’
‘I can find it. Thank you so much for the invitation . . . um . . . Mrs Jones.’
