ROLE CHANGE CHAPTER FOUR
Ethan continued to improve after his operation, though, to the impatient young doctor it wasn't soon enough. He certainly proved the cliché that doctors make the worst patients, to be true.
His particular gripe the week after the operation was that he was desperate to eat solid foods.
"It's not as if I injured my guts" he groaned.
"Yeah, and it's not as if they starve you. Look at that massive soup and that king-size yoghurt you just had." Cal had decided that teasing was the best option for Ethan in his present frame of mind. Ethan, however, growled:
"I want a bloody steak!"
He also loathed the back brace that he was forced to wear despite Cal's assurance that he looked like a cop or superhero in it.
"And don't tell me it helps with my bone fusion; I KNOW it does, but I'm sick of it, Cal. I just want to be normal again."
"Were you ever normal, Nibbles?"
Ethan turned his face into the pillow but Cal could see from the twitch of his brother's shoulders that his gibe had brought a little light relief.
What was preying on Cal's mind was the warning the surgeon had given Ethan and himself that it could be a good six months before it could be determined whether the operation had been successful or not. They both just wanted Ethan's back to heal and the nightmare to be over.
For all his grumbling, Ethan toed the line and when he was next examined was told that he could go home at the end of the week if he had somebody to perform carer's duties twenty-four seven.
Cal's voice was so cheerful neither his brother nor the consultant would have known he was groaning inwardly:
"That'll be me then."
Cal hadn't realised just how much he'd have to alter his lifestyle to look after Ethan. The back brace that his younger brother wore had to be washed daily with mild soap and water, then the inside dried with a hairdryer. As Ethan wasn't able to shower or bathe, Cal had to sponge-wash him every day. Despite the grumbling that Cal had fully expected about this, "having to be washed like a baby", Ethan began to accept his situation and even make light of some of it.
"Hey look" Ethan waved the doctor's notes at Cal, "I can loosen my brace to eat."
Then, when he spotted something else,
"Now there's a tragedy. I can't have sex till after my next appointment. When the hell do I ever get to have sex anyway?"
He gradually came to appreciate everything Cal was doing for him. After a busy shift Cal would come home and massage Ethan's back. He paid for a 'riser' to be fitted on the toilet seat and a chair for use in the shower.
"It's looking more like a Travelodge wet room every day" Ethan said of the bathroom.
"I had some of my finest moments in a Travelodge wet room" Cal replied, sounding perfectly serious.
Over in Corvaine, Ben Chiltern was going through a different set of procedures altogether. Fortunately his acting experience, although
amateur, helped him significantly. He soon mastered Stefan's clipped tones. "Snotty" he privately described his Stefan voice. His speed at
reading lines meant he memorise the copious notes handed to him by Karl and David, and, as they'd advised, was able to take several pages
a week to the shredder. For once they'd not told him to ask a servant to perform this duty; it was better that Ben saw the documents
destroyed. He could also imitate Stefan's stiff-backed walk to perfection. Not that he was taught by the poor, terminally ill prince, a tutor who
had been threatened with the consequences of talking about his mission, drilled Ben daily in parroting the Prince's voice and movements.
He fared less well with the dancing lessons. Stefan had a sound knowledge of different ballroom dances, including the tango. Ben could
dance the kind of steps needed for musical theatre but there was always room for improvisation in these dances. With Bachetti, his dance
tutor, every movement had to be spot-on. Bachetti had a cruel tongue and knew some hurtful insults, and Ben learned them all in the four
weeks up to his marriage to Princess Sara.
The thing that he had to work at the hardest – at least that was what he thought then – was riding a horse.
"Surely Princes use cars now?" he asked, shocked, earning David's patronising smile and Karl's sneer.
"Stefan is a renowned horseman. He exercises his horse for at least two hours daily."
Ben wished he'd brought some soothing cream with him from the ED. His butt would be needing it.
Back in the ED Max commented on Cal and Ethan's changed lives during a break.
"I don't know if I could do all that for somebody."
"You would if it was your brother, Max" Charlie assured him.
"Maybe. But I think Cal's going to struggle, especially if it means not dating any more. You know Cal and his ladies."
Cal went to check his post one morning. He saw an official-looking letter addressed to him, and read it. His heart dropped. Before, when he
and Ethan had hoped the back injuries weren't as extensive as they could be, he'd applied for a voluntary job as a health visitor who would
supervise a mini-bus service that took physically handicapped people to the local gym. They'd accepted his application and wanted him to
attend an interview.
He sighed and slipped the letter to the back of a drawer.
Later, he settled Ethan in a favourite armchair, after giving him his breakfast, and put the dvd of 'Cloud Atlas' into the player. Not realising that
he'd put the discs back into the wrong cases and Ethan would actually end up watching – or starting to watch – Magic Mike, which amused Cal and bored Ethan. Then he went out to buy the paper and some basic groceries.
When he came back Ethan was glaring at him.
"What's wrong, Nibbles? Hungry?"
Ethan picked up the letter and brandished it.
"WHY haven't you acted on this?"
Cal recognised the letter and looked away.
"It's not possible now, Nibbles."
"You mentioned getting a carer in for me now and then. Why can't I have a carer tomorrow so you can get to your interview – you'll have to move fast if you want to ring them up to confirm you're going – and back again? And if you get the post, why can't I have the carer on those days?"
Ethan couldn't stand up to Cal any more but his angry eyes followed Cal round the room until Cal had first of all booked a carer for Ethan the next day and then called to confirm that he'd be attending the interview.
"I'm sorry it's at such short notice" he began, and the man on the other end of the phone laughed.
"Mr Knight, the other interested applicant just called us to let us know that he's not interested in unpaid work. Eleven o' clock suit you?"
Cal nodded, and ran across to Ethan. He wanted to scoop his brother into a bear hug but settled for patting his arm and thanking him.
"You're okay. And next time, keep your rotten Magic Mike in its own cover!"
Ben patted Melusine. He'd grown to love her over the past three weeks despite the bruises when she'd thrown him. But with dogged perseverance he'd kept trying.
"You and me against the world, Horsey."
His world would change even more the next day when he'd meet his fiancée Princess Sara. He knew it was shallow but he hoped she'd be
pretty. Pretty or not, what really made him uneasy was that she would be a stranger to him but she'd met Stefan already some years ago
when she'd spent time in Corvaine.
The Grand Reception took place the next day, according to Corvanien tradition. He sat formally, but not too stiffly, on the hard backed gold
chair in the Reception Room. At exactly six o' clock, the doors opened and Sandor Van Arlen, the Prime Minister, entered with Stefan's fiancée on his arm.
He rose gracefully to his feet – it had been a long time before he had been able to do it gracefully – and extended his hand as Sandor
announced:
"Prince Stefan Alexander Edwin of Corvaine; Princess Sara Fleurette of Doranis."
She was small and slight, and more attractive than pretty. Her large hazel eyes dominated her face; her lips were full and her teeth perfect.
Her long chestnut hair was piled on top of her head in a loose French knot. But Ben would notice those details later. All he noticed now was
that, under the brief, practised smile that she gave him, her face was clearly full of loathing for him.