Still Human jh-2 Page 4

  “Sorry I wasn’t here when you went into surgery this morning,” he says.

  “That’s okay, they took me earlier than they said.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “You can find out if I’m allowed to eat something, I haven’t eaten since yesterday lunchtime and I’m starving. What time is it?” I ask.

  Max looks at his watch. “Four thirty.”

  “What? How long did the surgery take?”

  “About an hour and a half, you came back here at eleven and you’ve been in and out ever since.”

  “Oh.”

  “The nurse has been backwards and forwards, she says it’s normal. Some people just go under fairly deep.”

  “Have you been here the whole time?” I ask.

  “Yep.” He smiles. “I’ll go and find out if you can eat. What do you want?”

  “Something good.” I grin and sip my water.

  For the first time I think about my ankle and as Max goes out to the nurse, I have a look under the covers at what is keeping me here. At first I’m surprised that it’s not in a cast. Instead it’s wrapped in bandages. It looks like a comedy broken leg, it’s huge. Fear stops me testing it and as I look at it I feel strangely detached. Luckily the cut on my head is nothing, because I didn’t black out. I suppose I might have a scar, but I scar myself willingly in every colour of the rainbow, so a natural one isn’t exactly something I will worry about. It’s right in my hairline anyway.

  Max comes back with a thumb’s up. “She says you can have whatever you like, so Josh is on his way over with a goody bag from Jake.”

  “You’re a star.” I smile. I don’t know what I would do without him. But things should have been so different.

  “No problem.” He grins. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, can I have a hug?” I feel suddenly needy and emotional. He rushes over and squeezes me a bit too tight, but I don’t care. I need him.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m here.”

  “Sorry,” I say, my voice strained with emotion as I wipe big tears from my eyes.

  Max sits back and assesses me while keeping hold of my hand. He says nothing, just stares. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say. It’s almost unheard of for him to not know how to help me. We are so in tune that we normally alienate people, so this is a strange experience. I know he completely disagrees with my decision to cut Danny off. But he is usually more vocal when we have a difference of opinion. He probably feels like he can’t say anything because I’m fragile now. Who knew injuring myself would actually protect me?

  I’m just finishing my club sandwich with a side of chips, when the surgeon appears at the door. I guiltily put the rubbish in the bag and Max scurries away to dispose of it.

  “Don’t stop on my account he insists, we like a healthy appetite around here.” He jokes.

  “It’s fine, I was finished anyway,” I say and wipe my mouth.

  “So, everything went perfectly this morning,” he says, all business. He goes over to the light panel on the wall beside me and switches it on. Then he slots my x-ray onto the front. It looks grizzly.

  “You can see here, you have shattered everything in this area. We call it a trimalleolar fracture.” He sounds way too jolly. “To repair it, we have made two incisions here and here.” He points to each side of my ankle. “And we have used a plate and screws to secure the pieces of bone where we want them and hold them there while they heal back together.”

  He swaps the x-ray for a new one that looks a million times grizzlier. Max walks back in at that moment and baulks at the sight of the x-ray, which looks like something from a hospital drama. The surgeon points to a large screw that goes horizontally across the ankle. “This screw is temporary, we will need to remove it in a few weeks. The rest are permanent.” He smiles.

  “Now, you won’t be able to bear any weight whatsoever on this foot for about six weeks until the bones have sufficiently knitted together, particularly while this screw is still in. Once we have taken out your stitches, we will put you in a proper cast. Until then, you are sporting this.” He laughs. “It’s a metal back slab, it will be quite weighty.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot to take in.” I exhale.

  “We will give you pain relief and anti-inflammatories to take home. You will need to keep it elevated as much as possible, I’d say the majority of the time. You’ll obviously use crutches to get around, making sure that this foot stays off the ground at all times.” He thinks for a moment. “I might even see if I can get you a wheelchair for a couple of weeks.”

  “Brilliant,” I mutter. Max stifles a laugh.

  “Are you able to organise things at home to accommodate you while you recover?”

  Max isn’t able to stifle the laugh this time. “Well I live alone, in the flat above my busy restaurant and bar and the only access is via a long staircase.” I reply, while shooting Max a ‘thanks-so-much-for-your-love-and-support’ look.

  “Oh,” he replies.

  “She can stay with us.” Max kindly offers.

  “No, I want to be at home,” I insist. “Once I’m up, or down, the stairs, I’ll be fine. You will have to help me.”

  “We have to make sure you can safely negotiate stairs before you go home. The first couple of weeks will be the hardest, while you have this heavy bandage, but I want you to try and rest with your leg elevated as much as possible, so you’ll be fine.”

  He leaves us, promising that I would be discharged tomorrow morning after meeting the physio and being checked over once more.

  “Can I push you around?” Max asks excitedly, falling about laughing. “And can we get some of those flashing wheels?”

  “Oh fuck off!” I snap.

  “Sorry,” he says, hanging his head slightly.

  The physiotherapist arrives at my doorway bearing crutches and a wheelchair. Max is once again incorrigible. She shows me how to get myself into and out of the chair and how to put the leg rest up to keep it elevated. I’m astonished at the weight of this massive bandage, it weighs a ton. I’m glad I’m supposed to rest it as I don’t fancy carting it around much.

  Once she’s happy that I’m not a complete danger to myself, she gets me up on the crutches.

  “This thing is so heavy, how am I supposed to keep it off the ground?” I ask in frustration.

  “Well you will be resting it most of the time. I just need to show you how to do the basics.”

  Stairs on crutches are a nightmare! I give it my best effort and she seems satisfied, then she shows me two exercises she wants me to do every day, to keep everything moving, and then finally leaves me alone to rest.

  “Please go home, Max. You’ve been here all day and I haven’t been much company.” I’ve been very lucky that no one has been put in the other bed, so visiting hours have been overlooked by the staff.

  “It’s okay, I don’t want you to be on your own,” he replies.

  I stroke his cheek. “I’m fine, honestly. Go on, have some dinner and see your man. He’ll have forgotten what you look like.”

  “If you’re sure. What will you do?”

  “Sleep probably.”

  “Okay.”

  Max spends ten minutes, fussing around, putting everything within reach, insisting on helping me to the loo and buying me a couple of drinks and a bar of chocolate.

  “See you in the morning.” He kisses me on the forehead before he goes.

  “See you,” I reply cheerfully as he walks out of the door.

  I don’t want him to know how I really feel. I was dreading being on my own, to the extent that I forced him to go, just to get it over with. I’m at a really low ebb. The stuff that has happened to me over the past couple of weeks is too much to digest in one chunk. I can’t take any more. Fighting tears, I plug my headphones into the TV and put some home improvement show on. I wish I had a film to watch. Music is too meaningful and I don’t want to think right now, so I try really hard to watch the program without dr
ifting into thought.

  Danny’s hand slides over my stomach as his tongue twists around my hard nipple. I’ve never wanted him more. It feels so urgent, like it could be taken away at any second. “oh!’ I moan, startled by the sound. Why does it feel odd to make that sound?

  His fingers slide into my underwear and I groan again, another strangled sound which takes me by surprise. My whole body aches for him, but he misses out the place I want him most. I try to move to guide his fingers, but this just makes him move further away.

  He pulls his lips away from my nipple and I gasp. I beg him to take me, but he laughs. His gaze falls over something behind me and I turn to see what has taken his attention from me. But my body lets me down, I can't turn. I can only lie flat and the ache I thought I felt for Danny now feels like a physical pain, restricting my body. A woman appears beside me, it’s her…Brooke.

  “Look at me,” I beg him. “I need you.” Tears sting my eyes.

  They both laugh at this. With his hand still circling inside my underwear he begins to kiss her. I watch helplessly, sobbing and pleading with him to love me. I cry out as he finally pulls his hand away from me and turns it to her. My pained cry jars me and my tears have made my head hurt. I’m shaking from the violent sobs wracking my body.

  Danny reclines beside me and watches her as she slowly pulls her hair out of its pins and shakes it loose. I beg him not to watch but he ignores me. She unzips her tight black dress and lets it fall to her feet. I try to turn away, I can’t watch. But my strange immobility keeps me flat on my back. Danny encourages her to come to him and I plead with him to stop this, but it’s too late as she climbs over him. I sob and sob until I wake with a start.

  It was a dream, but the tears were real. My head is heavy from crying so hard and my body aches. I want to curl up in a ball, but I can’t turn over. Real or not, what I’ve just witnessed is so cruel that the emotional pain physically hurts as I succumb to it. I weep for a long time; short, stuttered breaths plague me even once the tears have dried. I lie awake on my damp pillow, staring at nothing, fearful of closing my eyes again.

  Chapter Four

  Liv

  You gave us all a fright!

  “I can do it.” I snap at Max as he fusses around behind me. I’ve managed to get myself to standing on the curb and I’m just organising my crutches. Max is trying to erect the wheelchair, but I’m not being wheeled across the threshold in that thing.

  “I’m sure I can manage the ten feet to the door if you could just make yourself useful and open it for me,” I say with an irritable tone. If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate well it’s the loss of my independence and I just know I’m going to be taking it out on those I love, namely Max. The thing that irritates me the most is that I know how unreasonable I’m being. I didn’t really sleep last night after that heartbreaking dream. I know it wasn’t real, but it was so devastating, I still feel tears prick my eyes if I think about it.

  Before it happens again, I start off towards the door and Max scoots ahead to open it for me. I’m greeted warmly by the staff and a couple of customers who are surprised to see the state of me. I sit on the nearest chair slowly, so that I can just rest for a minute. Using crutches doesn’t exactly come naturally and my hand isn’t helping either. My middle two ‘gripping’ fingers are quite sore from being slammed into the ground by a power tool. As it turns out, the forefinger and thumb alone, have very limited gripping power, especially when burdened with the weight of a whole person. The little finger is obviously of no use whatsoever…so I can hardly grip the crutches, well the right one at least. It looks like I will need that fucking wheelchair if I hope to see daylight anytime soon.

  Well at least I showed everyone that I can stand on one of my own two feet, for a minute. I just couldn’t face them feeling sorry for me being pushed around by Max. Me, with no boyfriend, back from America all sad and now I can’t even walk, so pathetic. I can feel myself getting angry today. I refuse to feel sorry for myself so I have to direct it somewhere. Fucking Danny. This is all his fault. If he wasn’t so selfish, none of this would be happening. Thankfully my thoughts are broken by some of the kitchen staff coming out to see me.

  “You gave us all a fright!” says Jake. “Let me make you some lunch,” he adds, as always trying to fix it with food.

  “Thanks Jake, I’ll get settled upstairs first, then send Max down for something. Where is Max?” I ask, realising he has disappeared.

  “Taking your stuff upstairs,” says Ali.

  “Here he is,” says Jake.

  “Here I am,” says Max, looking all pleased with himself. “Come on then, let’s get you upstairs.”

  I roll my eyes at Ali, who giggles sympathetically. “Text me if you need anything,” she says.

  “Thanks,” I mouth at her as I’m helped to my feet.

  Slowly, I make my way to the back of the diner and Max holds open the door for me. I stare up the staircase, it’s longer than I remember, but I suppose the diner has high ceilings and all sorts of ducting. It’s like a floor and a half at least. Taking a deep breath, I try the first step and wobble. My weight tips back and I feel like I’m losing my balance. Luckily, Max is just behind me and I’m prevented from needing to put my foot down to steady myself.

  “Just let me carry you,” he says.

  “No!” I insist. “Here,” I say, handing him my crutches. Then I carefully turn and sit on the first step. My plan is to climb up backwards on my bottom. But as I put my hands on the step behind me and try to take my weight, pain radiates through my chest. I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus today, everything aches. Even lifting the bed covers off me in the hospital hurt. I suppose I did fall from quite a height. I burst into tears and drop my head in my hands.

  “You are so fucking stubborn!” Max tuts. I feel his arms around me and I’m gently lifted. With ease, he carries me up the stairs to my flat and puts me down carefully on the sofa, kissing the top of my head as he lets go.

  “Thanks.” I sniff. What would I do if I didn’t have Max?

  “Hey.” He sits beside me and lifts my leg onto a footstool I don’t recognise. “Don’t get upset. It will just take some time.”

  “I know.” I sob. “But work was keeping me sane. Now I’m stuck here.” I gesture at my surroundings. Then I notice all of the changes. Firstly three huge bunches of flowers are dotted around the room. The largest display is on the table beside me along with several envelopes. The whole place smells clean and fresh. The furniture in the living area has all shifted slightly and as well as this footstool, there is a table on wheels that I can pull over my lap, with Danny’s Mac set up on it. I wipe my eyes and notice that on the arm of the sofa are the remotes for everything including a small silver one I don’t recognise.

  “Why is it all different?’ I ask.

  “We got some stuff ready for you, so that you can keep busy while you get better.” He smiles. “Computer, remotes, footrest, your laptop is in your room, we got you a TV in there too and linked it to your Sky. That way, wherever you want to be, you don’t have to carry anything. If you want to watch TV but lie in bed at the same time, you can.”

  “Wow. But this isn’t mine,” I say pointing at the computer.

  “I know, but it’s in your flat, so I say, use it.” He winks. “I’ve had a look at it, it’s hardly been used. I’ve set up your emails and Facebook and copied your iTunes onto it, so there is no trace of it being anyone else’s.” He means he has cleared all evidence of Danny off it. Well, I’m not going on it anyway. I don’t want to check my emails or Facebook, for the same reason I binned my phone.

  “What’s this?” I ask holding up the tiny silver remote.

  “The best bit!” Max says like a kid at Christmas. He switches on the TV and then presses a button on the remote. The Apple logo appears on the screen and in a few seconds he shows me that I can access my iTunes library. “You can watch all the films you have on iTunes.”

  “I don’t have an
y,” I say incredulously.

  He selects films on the screen and there are a dozen or so of my favourites. He grins at me. “You do now.” He laughs, “And it’s in your room too!”

  “How have you managed this? I’ve only been gone a day and you've been with me most of the time.”

  “I had some help.” He says and disappears into the kitchen. He comes out with a jug of water and a glass, goes to my bag and fetches the pharmacy bag from the hospital. “Now, you need to take these and then I’ll get you some coffee and lunch from downstairs.”

  I huff as Max puts pills into my hand and hands me the glass of water.

  “What do you fancy for lunch?” he asks.

  “Surprise me,” I say as I flip through my new films on Apple TV. I must go on about these films more than I realised because it’s like my all-time favourites list, some I haven’t seen since my teens. How did he know? I put ‘The Secret of my Success’ on because I haven’t seen it in years. Then I take my jumper off carefully, still feeling like I’ve been run over, and settle down. I still feel so tired, maybe it’s all the painkillers.

  Max comes back with coffee and sits on the sofa with me.

  “Is your foot warm enough?” he asks. I frown. “I know it’s an odd question, but I always look at people with their toes sticking out of a cast and think they must get really cold.”

  “It’s fine thank you.” I laugh. “What are we having for lunch?”

  “Burgers. Is that okay?”

  “Lovely.” He settles down with me to watch the film.

  “Connie is coming later. I told her not to miss her painting class,” he says absently after a few minutes.

  “Who are the flowers from?”

  Pointing to them in turn he says, “Connie, your mum and…” There is a light tap on the door and he jumps up to open it. Our burgers are here. I might be stuck at home, but I sure do live in the right place.

  We tuck in and watch my film. Then Max clears the plates away and comes back, looking more fidgety.

  “What’s up?” I ask.