Chapter six
The trees were swaying gently in the autumn breeze. People passed carrying out their daily lives. Sam was sat on the bench in the peace garden outside the hospital. She gazed up at the birds as they flew overhead. She wondered what it would be like to have that much freedom, to be able to fly away whenever things got too hectic.
"Penny for your thoughts?" asked a voice behind her.
"You don't want to know, Charlie" she sighed.
He seated himself next to her, "Ah, one of those days is it? We've all had them." He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before continuing, "The trick is … not to let them get to you."
Someone shouted, "Charlie, you're needed." from the ambulance bay.
Just as he stood to leave he turned to her and said, "This place is like quicksand: as soon as you think you've struggled free, it sucks you back in." Sam allowed a smile to spread across her face.
Back in resus Zoe was, stood at the end of her patient's bed, jotting down notes on a clip board. Her mind was elsewhere. She was busy trying to recollect her actions last night. Nothing made sense; it was just a blur of random events. That was when John Doe's eyes fluttered open. She walked over to his side and placed the clipboard on the bed bar. "Hello. Can you hear me? You're in Holby City ED"
His eyes were glazed over and he looked disorientated. He began to cough and splutter as he was beginning to breathe on his own. Zoe placed her hand on the tube, removed the tape, and ordered him to blow out as she removed it.
Once he had regained full consciousness he spoke, "What… what happened?" His voice cracked but there was something about his northern accent that Zoe recognised. Then she placed his voice in the club she was at the previous night. He was the tall, dark, handsome one who asked her for a dance. James Bond. He looked completely different now with his battered and bruised face. "You were knocked down by a car this morning. You sustained some major injuries which include a compound fracture to the tib and fib, a perforated spleen and multiple facial lacerations, you're going to need surgery. You may have also cracked some ribs but we won't know until further x-rays."
He was taken aback by this. Zoe waited a while to allow the news to sink in.
"James, is there anyone you'd like me to call for you?"
He glanced up at her. "My mum. Please"
Zoe was seated in her office. After she'd phoned James' mum she had pulled up his medical notes. He was 19 years old. He was 19 and she had made-out with him. The memory of his stubble rubbing up against her neck was replaying over in her mind. She was old enough to be his mother. She couldn't help but wonder if things may have gone further. Her thought process was interrupted by Dylan who had barged into her office. His hands were on his hips and his expression was bland.
"You alright?" he asked her, "Just you've been rather quiet."
She was shocked. It was unlike Dylan to take notice of what she does, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good… Are you?"
"Of course. How's the hand?" he gestured towards her bandaged hand.
Zoe glanced down at it, almost forgetting it was there. Perhaps he feels guilty about it. "It's not too bad. Um Dylan, would you like to go out for a drink tonight, perhaps a gin and tonic?"
"Are you forgetting I'm a recovering alcoholic?" there was a sense of spitefulness in his tone.
"Fine. I'll have the gin and you can have the tonic." She joked
He smiled and agreed to the drinks.