“A car crash.”
He sighed. He knew about that. “Yes, but I was all right. We were both all right. Where’s Tal? Tal Whittaker. Is he here too? Is he… Is he dead?” It almost killed him to push that word out of his mouth.
The nurse patted his hand. “Rest. You can talk to the doctor in the morning.”
“But Tal…”
The nurse walked away and Corey was too shocked to stop her. Why couldn’t she tell him about Tal?Please, please let him be okay.Corey wanted to get up and check the other beds tosee if Tal was in one of them, but his brain and body weren’t cooperating. His eyes were already closing and he just couldn’t keep them open. Maybe everything would make sense when he woke. Maybe he’d be back in the hotel with Tal.
He wasn’t. A clattering noise jerked him out of Tal’s arms. He heard hospital noises then. People hurrying, calling out. Beeps in the distance. He didn’t want to open his eyes. This wasn’t like that episode on the stairs where he’d found himself somewhere else, this was his reality now. His eyes opened and he took in the ward where he was lying.Where’s Tal? If I’m here and he’s not…Panic surged.
Corey tried to sit up and the pain in his head and side roared to life, overpowered everything and kept him down. The room was moving and his heart galloped out of control. He was going to be sick again. He grabbed the dish the nurse had left on the bed and threw up nothing but stringy liquid. Corey forced himself to take a deep breath, and his stomach settled. A nurse appeared, wiped his mouth, gave him another drink and though he wanted to ask about Tal, his eyes closed again before he could.
The next time he woke, he didn’t feel sick, he just hurt. The pain inside his skull had settled into a dull throb. He hoped the agony of before had gone for good. But confusion reigned. Where was he? What hospital? Where was everyone else?
They came round with breakfast which he didn’t want but was encouraged to eat. No one would talk to him about Tal. He managed a piece of dry toast and a nurse said, “Well done,” as if he were a baby. But then he was as helpless as a baby.
Everyone he called out to was too busy to answer his questions, so he lay against the raised back of the bed and worried.Is Tal here? Is he all right?Whatever had occurred, had happened to both of them, so he couldn’t be all right. Building anxiety made Corey’s heart hurt.
When someone finally stayed long enough at his bedside to listen to him, he asked, “Where’s Tal Whittaker?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you find out? Is he here? In a different ward? What about my things?”
“Everything you came in with will be in the locker. Is there something you want me to get out for you?”
“My phone, please. If it’s there.”
Except when he had it in his hand, who did he have to call? He didn’t know Tal’s number, nor that of the hotel, though he could google. He didn’t want to phone his uncle. He knew what he’d say—You’re not dying are you? Ha ha– He didn’t want to hear his dismissive tone. Googling was a good idea. If something catastrophic had happened, it would be in the news. But when he tried, his shit phone was out of power. He didn’t feel strong enough to get out of bed to look for his charger.
Tal hadn’t told him the name of the firm he worked for. Nor where he lived. But he could searcharchitectand Tal Whittaker, maybe even look for where the architect worked who’d designed a penguin enclosure for a German zoo. There was a charger in his bag but the nurse hadn’t pulled a bag out of the locker, just his jacket and taken the phone from his pocket. His outdoor jacket, not his military one. Why had his phone been in that?
What the hell was going on? He felt as if he was in deep water and struggling to get to the surface. Corey closed his eyes and swallowed his moan.
“Good morning.”
He looked up when a man spoke. A doctor held Corey’s chart. Two other white-coated medics stood behind him. “How are you feeling?”
“Confused.”
“Well, you injured your head in the crash and you’re concussed. Your ribs are bruised, we had to remove your spleen—don’t worry you can manage without it—you’ve broken your foot, narrowly escaped frostbite and hypothermia, and you’re pretty much battered from head to toe. Not a surprise you’re confused. Now you’re awake, the police want to speak to you about what happened.”
Corey’s aching head was spinning. This made sense and didn’t make sense at the same time. It made sense if he’d invented everything after the crash, but he hadn’t.
“What about the other driver?” Corey asked. “Tal Whittaker.”
The doctor turned and looked at the medics with him.
“He’s in intensive care,” said one of the women.
Corey felt as though the doctor had reached into his chest and clawed at his heart. Intensive care was bad, but at least Tal was alive. “Will he be okay?”
“I can’t give you any details.”
Not the answer he wanted. For a horrible moment, Corey wondered if the police thought his car had hit Tal’s, and that was why they wanted to speak to him. But Tal was alive.I need to see him.Corey could feel tears trickling down his cheeks. “How long do I need to stay in here?”
“You’re not ready for discharge yet. The nurses will have you sitting in a chair to start with. Things move slowly with concussion. Rest is the best thing. We might be able to put you in a walking cast instead of plaster depending on the X-ray. Should have you out for Christmas though.” Big smile from the doctor.Fuck off.
