For goodness’ sake – Anna’s timing for a deep conversation is not great. I’m freezing cold lying on this chilly platform, I’m in so much pain with my head and she now wants to tell me something important.
Someone taps her on the shoulder, and she steps out of the way. To my relief a paramedic is kneeling beside me. ‘Hi, I’m Kevin, a paramedic – can you tell me your name?’ he says, surveying my head.
Why do I get the feeling this is going to hurt?
CHAPTER29
RORY
The green curtain of the A&E cubicle swishes open. In walks a tall man carrying a sheet of white paper and a pen. He’s wearing a knitted grey jumper, beige cords, and an impressive pair of sandy coloured Timberlands. In a commanding voice which rises above the cacophony of sounds from outside the green curtain (phones ringing, machines bleeping, trolleys being pushed along the corridor, nurses talking cheerfully to patients and a small child crying), he says, ‘My name is Doctor Sidney Wilson, I’m an A&E doctor. What’s your name and date of birth?’
As I say my name, he checks what’s printed out on his piece of paper.
‘Do you want to tell me what happened to your head?’
Sitting up in the cubicle chair makes my forehead lump scream with pain. It prefers no movement whatsoever. With trembling hands I try to reach up and touch the bandage but the thought of making the stabbing pain any worse makes me nauseous all over again. So I opt to talk instead. ‘Someone ran into me, and I hit my head on a ticket barrier.’
The doctor nods before perching at the end of the bed. His dark brown fingers grip the pen, and he scribbles something down onto the form. ‘Were you unconscious?’
‘Yes, but only for a few seconds.’
‘You live in London?’
I shake my head. ‘Leeds.’
His pale green eyes study my face. ‘Are you down here for Christmas?’
‘No, I am supposed to be giving my ex-girlfriend something… a piece of jewellery.’
He stands up and walks over to where I am sat, kneeling to inspect my lump. As I watch him study my head I have a horrible thought. What if the chain and locket flew out of my shirt pocket when I collided with the barrier? Panic and fear takes hold of me. My trembling hand goes to my shirt pocket. A wave of relief floods through me as I can feel the locket through my shirt.
My joy is short-lived as I have to grit my teeth as the doctor’s long fingers gently peel back the bandage. ‘Does she live in London?’
‘No, Brighton.’
A wide smile breaks across his face. ‘My girlfriend lives near there. Whenever I’m not working up here, I am down there playing football on the beach with her daughter and looking at all the fancy shops in the Lanes.’
Gripping onto the wooden arms of the chair, I pray for him to stop staring at my swollen head.
‘We’ll need to get your head scanned. That’s quite a lump you’ve got there. Do you have any blurred vision?’
‘Nope.’
He holds up his finger. ‘Follow my finger to the left and to the right. After the accident did you experience memory loss?’
‘Briefly but only for a few seconds.’
Afterwards he gets back to his feet. ‘You have a concussion. We need to check properly there has been no significant damage. I am going to see if we can get you a CT scan but it depends on how busy we are. The results will take about a week to come through so you’ll need to contact your GP. I’d also like to take some blood just as a precautionary measure.’
I watch him scribble something down. ‘My girlfriend and her daughter have come to visit me for Christmas. It was a nice surprise to see them earlier, but I had to go to work.’
‘You’ll have a nice Christmas then?’
He nods. ‘The best yet. I have a feeling my girlfriend is up to something. She’s got this mischievous look about her.’
‘Oh?’
‘I think she’s going to propose.’ His grin returns as he writes something else on his form.
