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‘You’ve been like any excited bride,’ Annie attempted, ‘just a bit... ’
‘I’ve been awful,’ Jackie moaned. ‘You know, when Jeremy asked me, I wanted something quick and easy. I mean, I’m forty-two—who the hell wants a big white wedding at forty-two?’
‘You do.’ Annie smiled softly, taking her friend’s hand and welcoming her back, even teasing her as she would have in another life—one before the engagement. ‘You want the church and the flowers and the bridesmaids all color co-ordinated and all the trimmings that go with it. And that’s fine, Jackie. You’ve waited a long time and you want your day to be perfect.’
‘I’m just so worried that something will go wrong if I don’t stay on top of everything.’
‘Nothing’s going to go wrong,’ Annie assured her. ‘It’s going to be wonderful. Now, you’d better get going. I’ll see you tonight at the rehearsal.’
There was a whole day to get through before then, though, and her leg was really starting to hurt. Heading over to the nurses’ station, Annie offered her apologies to Cheryl but she waved them away.
‘Iosef told us what happened. You’re to register and pop into cubicle two.’
‘What?’
‘He said you gashed your leg.’
‘It’s just a cut, there’s no need—’
‘I wouldn’t argue with Iosef if I were you,’ Cheryl sighed. ‘He’s like a thundercloud this morning. He’s only been here ten minutes and he’s upsetting everyone. If I were you, I’d just go and register.’
Sitting on the chair in cubicle two, Annie dabbed at the cut with some antiseptic, dreading him coming in and pathetically grateful that, thanks to Jackie’s unwavering schedule, she’d had her legs waxed yesterday. Not that he’d care. As he swept in to the cubicle he barely even looked at her as he instructed her to climb up on the trolley.
‘I don’t need to lie on the trolley.’
‘I would rather you did.’ He stood his ground. ‘Because I’d rather not bend.’
God, he was loathsome. Annie prickled as she climbed up onto the trolley and sat up with her legs outstretched. But even if he was an arrogant brute of a man, he was, she reluctantly if gratefully conceded, a very gentle doctor, gloved fingers gently probing the swollen bruise, then pouring antiseptic fluid over the wound to clean it rather than probing it.
‘You need a couple of stitches.’
‘I don’t!’
‘When was your last tetanus injection?’ he asked, completely ignoring her response.
‘I can’t remember.’ Annie frowned. ‘When I was training—eight, nine years ago, I guess.’ She gave a rather pathetic shrug. She must give out fifty tetanus injections a day, and yet here she was not up to date.
‘So you need a tetanus shot as well as stitches. I will put you on some antibiotics, too.’
‘It’s a small cut...’
‘It’s deep; it was sustained on the top of a damp shower cubicle. Tell me, when do you think the last time was that the cleaners went up on a ladder to disinfect the top of the partitions? Of course, we could leave it, wait and see.’ He was scribbling on the pad as he wrote his orders. ‘Maybe on Saturday you’ll come back when it’s swollen and infected and we can start you on them then. Oh, but you have a wedding to go to on Saturday, don’t you?’
She didn’t want stitches. Really, after the morning she’d had, all Annie wanted was to be left alone. But as he disappeared, returning moments later with a stainless-steel trolley laden with suture material and packs, all she could do was lie back and get it over with.
‘Poor thing...’ Cheryl tutted as she came in and headed to the sink to wash her hands before assisting. ‘Let’s hope it’s OK for Saturday—we can’t have you hobbling up the aisle behind Jackie.’
‘There’s no need for you to assist.’ Iosef’s tone was supremely polite but completely non-negotiable. ‘I’m fine by myself.’
‘Of course you are.’ Cheryl gave a tight smile. ‘But I’ll just stay and keep Annie company for moral support.’
‘I can manage that, too!’ Iosef responded without looking up, draping Annie’s leg and pulling on surgical gloves. ‘Actually, could you bring me a sick certificate so I can sign her off for the rest of the day?’
Annie didn’t even argue, rather grateful, in fact, for his display of brusqueness, because till now it had seemed solely reserved for her. But her mind was too fuddled to work that one out, though she was kind of relieved not to have a colleague holding her hand and murmuring the ‘right’ thing while Iosef stitched her up. Nobody needed to witness her grimacing over a few measly stitches when they witnessed so much worse every day. But, damn, it hurt.
‘That’s the worst over.’ His voice was low and soothing as he gave her a local injection. ‘I’m gloved so I can’t give you a tissue—there are some beside you.’
‘I’m not crying.’
