Page 7

Broken bones

I thought about the little iron gate as the doctors put me under for my tibia surgery. I remembered how cool it felt under my fingers before I was dragged away. Thankfully, I didn’t remember exactly how my leg had been broken, or much of that night before I was found.

It was too easy to deny that I knew my attackers and to lie about what happened – old habits die hard, and all that.

The clinical room faded away and the smell of chemicals lined my throat. I pictured the smirk that had been plastered on Marcus’s face; his slicked back hair moving with the effort of the beating he enjoyed so obviously; the yellow of his teeth and the smell of old, cheap whisky.

My eyelids grew heavier.

I dragged my tongue around my dry mouth, tuning in to the voices around me amongst bleeping machines. My lungs attempted to expand for a deep breath, forgetting the bruising on my ribs.

“Elle?”

It was a woman’s voice. A voice I knew.

Lucy.

My eyelids shot open, and I saw her leaning over the edge of the bed in her blue uniform, her thick hair tousled and her mascara slightly smudged.

“Lucy?”

I croaked.

She immediately reached behind her and held up a plastic cup and straw. I drank, the water washing away the artificial taste in my mouth.

“What happened?”

she asked desperately. “And don’t give me that crap about being randomly mugged.”

I coughed, groaning as the effort pulled on my bruises. Everything inside and out felt swollen and tender.

“I told you to text me, or call me,”

she continued in a rant.

“Sorry,”

I whispered hoarsely, not knowing what else to say. I wiggled my toes, feeling the new cast pressing against my ankle.

“Oh, shut up,”

she retorted, regret in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Elle. I knew I should never have left you. I knew something was wrong. The one time I listen to my stupid, ignorant brother… I’m going to kill him. The amount of shit I’ve put up with from him, Elle.” She looked straight at me. “I’m officially over it. How’s your pain?” She looked up at one of the drip bags.

I shrugged, trying to move as little as possible.

“I should never have let you get on that train. I’d seen the bruises, for god’s sake. I knew you were vulnerable, knew something was going on. I’ve been a nurse for enough bloody years to know I shouldn’t have just let you get on that train alone.”

I reached over and placed my hand on her arm, my elbow creaking. “It’s not your fault,”

I tried to say, as a tear slid down my cheek. I tilted my head to face her more. “You didn’t tell them about the photo, did you?”

A nurse reading a nearby machine shot us a sideways look when Lucy didn’t answer.

I shook my head against the overly springy pillow, wincing as I tried to move myself up the bed. “Please, no.”

Lucy instinctively pulled the pillow for me, leaning closer to speak quietly. “I’m only letting you get away with this extremely poor decision making because you look like shit. I haven’t said anything. Yet.”

I nodded gratefully as she pulled away. The other nurse collected my notes before wheeling me towards the ward, away from the post-surgery bay. Lucy followed, busying herself with asking medical questions I let go over my head. I watched the ceiling tiles as they passed, one after the other. When I looked ahead to the nearing double doors, my breath caught and it hurt.

Ben was standing there.

I blinked, twice. His navy suit was crinkled, jacket slung over one arm as he clenched the collar. I rolled my head to look at Lucy.

She pouted. “I know. Look, I’m mad at him, but he was going crazy. I’ll throw him out in a bit.”

As pathetic as it was, I had thought about him, while I was cowering in that park. After a while, the pain had all merged together into a single, all-over ache. I’d thought about how it felt sitting in the arbour with him, looking up at the night sky. How, if this was really it, if this was the end, maybe it was worth it to have had one evening of peace.

The doors squeaked open.

“What happened?”

he demanded across me to Lucy as the bed was wheeled into the corner by the window.

Curtain hooks clattered as Ben pulled them shut.

“She’s awake, Ben,”

Lucy stated, picking up an empty plastic jug and heading out of the cubicle.

I looked at the strange stain on the ceiling tile above my head. It looked like tea. The legs of a chair creaked as Ben sat between the bed and the window.

“Elle?”

he murmured.

I stared at the adjacent, stain-free ceiling tile, pulling my top lip between my teeth, the muscles in my cheek twitching as I tried desperately not to cry.

It was no use.

My body shook as I sobbed, the grey frames of the tiles quivering as my eyes blurred. The tears were warm against my cool cheeks as they streamed down, dampening the pillow. I heard hurried footsteps as Lucy burst back through the curtain and draped her arms around me. She smelt like disinfectant and vanilla, her hair tickling my face; the cannula pulling on my hand as I lifted it to her back.

“We’ve got you,”

she said into my ear as I cried.

It didn’t even feel like crying; it felt like bleeding.

Lucy lay next to me in bed after she’d mopped at my face and given me another drink. Ben had sat silently through the whole thing; stiff and unreadable.

“What ha—”

“Shut up, Ben,”

Lucy interjected. She pushed herself up, moving to sit on the end of the bed so she could face me. “I spoke to the doctors, Elle. It was a displaced fracture, but the repair went well. There are no other broken bones and the worst of the concussion will have passed now. They’ll send you home with some anti-sickness meds and wanted to book a follow-up. But…”

I blinked, looking at her as she hesitated, struggling to focus

“They need an address.”

I nodded slowly. An address. Because technically I was now homeless. The word rung in my ears. I was without a home, without a place to go. Broken.

Lucy continued, reading my mind. “I know a couple of local refuges where you will be safe, but it’s complicated medically. I—”

“She can stay with me.”

My gaze darted to Ben’s before I could stop myself. His dark eyes were bloodshot and his brow furrowed – he looked exhausted.

“Are you on crack?”

Lucy blurted.

For a moment, he just stared into me, offered what was almost a sympathetic smile. Then he turned to her. “You’re a nurse, Lucy, have some decency, for Christ’s sake.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you on cocaine or any other illegal substances that may be making you act out of character, Ben? Seriously, you slate me for picking her up, you both act like you want to kill each other, then you invite her to move in with you? God, you two must have had really great sex last week.”

My cheeks warmed as she glared at him.

He scoffed. “You’re foul, you know that? Of course we didn’t have sex. How is that even relevant?”

“Because she’s vulnerable, Ben.”

“She’s awake!”

he snapped, repeating her earlier words.

I swallowed. “I’m fine, really.”

They both glared at me.

“You’re joking.”

Lucy rubbed her forehead. “I need more wine. You said you would bring the wine next time.”

“Elle, I mean it,”

Ben insisted. “I have a spare bedroom. You need to recover somewhere safe. You can stay as long as you need.”

“I was going to say she could stay with us. The kids would love it and I could keep an eye on her injuries.”

“Right, between childcare and a full-time job?”

“Lucy, that’s—”

I tried to butt in, my voice barely a whisper.

Lucy pointed at Ben, ignoring me. “Oh, right, like you don’t live at the office. You meant you’d set her up in the stationary cupboard, did you?”

“I can work from home.”

Lucy laughed loudly, rolling her eyes. “Right. Of course. You? Work from home?”

“I’m serious.”

Ben looked at me, prompting Lucy to groan loudly. “What do you want to do, Elle?”

I looked between them, my head pounding. How was I supposed to have any of these answers? I had no bloody idea what I was doing, clearly. Mum was right; they had all been right. Maybe I should have stayed. I couldn’t live like this. What was I doing?

“I can’t cause you any more trouble. You’ve both done enough. I’m very grateful, but I never should’ve stayed with you. I never should’ve gone looking for Maeve’s parents, and now I need to finally make a sensible choice, one where I’m alone. So, I can figure this out.”

I said the words I needed to say, but they didn’t feel genuine. They were empty. So I tried again as they both looked at me doubtfully. “I was lucky, I convinced them.” I coughed, pausing as Lucy passed me a tissue. “I convinced them that I was just asking about the photo. That I’d leave them alone… build a life.”

“But why won’t you speak to the police?”

Lucy asked. “Help us understand.”

I looked at Ben, who was leaning forwards in his chair.

“The police aren’t interested in helping me.”

“Why?”

Lucy pushed.

“Because it’s not in their interest to. Because they’d come to the site for whisky… for perks.”

Lucy stilled, suddenly stiff. Thankfully, a doctor came in at that exact moment, stopping abruptly as if he sensed what he was walking into. He started talking to me and Ben, explained that they wanted to keep me in overnight to monitor for infection. I didn’t mind; it gave me a night in a warm bed to think about what the hell I was going to do.

As he left again, Lucy turned to me, still on the end of the bed. “Elle,”

she said, quietly.

The pity in her voice stung. I saw it on her face, the judgement. What must she think of me?

“It’s fine. I didn’t think I could get away from Henworth, but maybe I can now, properly, not just running. They found me and they let me go.”

“Let you go?”

Ben rested his elbows on the bed. “This is them letting you go?”

I pushed my hands down, wincing as I tried to sit up further. He stood and grabbed the cushion, holding it back for me as I adjusted. My bones were like red-hot rods burning as I moved. Ben pulled the sheet back over me as I dragged my leg up. Lucy was rolling her head from side to side, deep in thought.

“I’ll heal. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine,”

I asserted, as much for myself as them. “Really, you guys can go, get on with your lives.”

“I told them you and Ben were engaged,”

Lucy blurted out.

“What?”

Lucy grimaced nervously, averting her eyes from her brother’s stare. “I didn’t want it to look like I was taking advantage of my hospital privileges.”

I looked at Ben, waiting for him to snap at her again.

He just rolled his eyes, massaging his forehead.

“Lucy,”

I said quietly.

“I know.”

She reached out and placed a hand on my knee. “I’m sorry.” She looked at Ben. “Just break up, or something. I’m sorry I said it, I was in a flap.”

“Well, that explains a few things.”

Ben sighed, seeming agitated, but not angry.

A distant voice called the end of visiting hours. Lucy looked at the upside-down watch on her scrubs. “I’ll drop the kids off and come over tomorrow, sort all of this out.”

My body felt like it was being pressed down into the sterile bed. “Lucy, no, please.”

She shrugged. “Technically, this is a family emergency.”

“For god’s sake, Lucy, I’ll come in tomorrow,”

Ben told her. “You go to work and stop making this more complicated.”

Lucy objected, but we were interrupted by another nurse ushering the ward clear. Reluctantly, they left me. I hadn’t bothered to listen to the doctor about what medication they’d given me, but it must have been potent because I managed to drift in and out of sleep.

The next morning, when I’d had my observations done and the nurse seemed pleased, Ben appeared with a pair of coffees, keeping his word.

“Ben, you really don’t have to be here,”

I insisted, pleased to be able to sit up and face him this time; ready to give him the independence speech I’d been rehearsing.

He handed me a cup and tossed a brown bag onto my lap. “Don’t start. I say what I mean, you told me that, and I do, so stop telling me I don’t have to be here. It’s irritating.”

He paused, giving me a stern look. “I really don’t see what your other options are here, Elle. Frankly, you making decisions on your own has only made things a hell of a lot worse.”

“But they’re still mine, Ben, the decisions,”

I replied, peering into the paper bag to find a golden pastry. “Thank you,” I added, not the least bit hungry.

He sighed. “And you have the right to make them. I’m just telling you that you don’t have to. Okay? So, are you going to go to an ill-equipped refuge, or come and live in my spare room? Is there another option I’m missing?”

“It’s not that simple.”

He shook his head. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. “What’s not simple?”

“I can’t just move in with you. Look at me.”

I directed my own eyes over my broken body. “These people are dangerous. You don’t know me.”

“We’re getting married, don’t forget,”

he remarked, his tone rich with sarcasm. “God, sometimes I wonder if we’re even related, Lucy and I.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Regardless, I have no problem with you moving in, if that’s what you want. Do you even know what you want, Elle? Do you really want to go and face Maeve’s parents, alone?”

I tipped my head back, exasperated, the word want repeating in my head. ‘Wanting’ wasn’t something I did; wanting was dangerous. Wanting led to disappointment, or worse, you reached a point where you stopped wanting things, when your soul couldn’t do anything but survive by protecting the last of its light.

I groaned, my hands covering my face.

“It’s not a complicated question.”

I deflected. “Getting married? Oh, I don’t know, I can just imagine you making the flower girl cry, or yelling at me for stepping on your toes during our first dance.”

“Elle, the doctor will be coming around soon to discharge you. The spare room is yours if you want it, as long as you need it, or until you figure out what you want to do. I live alone; no one will bother you.”

That word again. What did I want? My mind was frustratingly blank. Didn’t Lucy say he was engaged already? Either way, no option was a good option. I knew I couldn’t go to see Susan and Derek White looking like this. I’d sworn to Marcus that I’d leave it alone – I wondered if I should. My body was screaming for Ben’s unconventional type of comfort in a way that made staying with him feel like the worst idea of the lot.

“I can’t,”

I muttered.

“You can.”

“No, it’s not right.”

“None of this is right!”

he exclaimed, pacing the room. “Nothing about this is right. You in here, them out there. Any of what happened. But, please, for Christ’s sake, make a decent choice now. You are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met and I swear to you I’m about to get up and walk through those doors and not look back.”

“So go,”

I spat, except it didn’t sound aggressive; it sounded pathetic.

Ben marched to the side of the bed, pointing his finger at me. “Tell me that’s what you want. Tell me you want me to go and I’ll go. Right now.”

“Ben…”

“Say it,”

he hissed.

I licked my lips, willing them to move. They didn’t. I felt my eyes start to round as the oncoming tears grew heavy.

“Tell me you have a better, safer option, because I’m looking at you right now and you don’t look like someone who can take much more.”

I took a shaky breath as he waited me out, not flinching, not retreating from the bedside, towering over me.

“Why? Why are you even offering? I don’t understand.”

He gritted his teeth, accentuating his strong jaw. “You jumped in that river, Elle. You saved Sophie.”

His voice softened, his shoulders lowering as he took a step back. “I have a spare room; I have the flexibility. It’s the least I can do. God, just let me help you.”

“It’s not the ‘least’ of anything. You would’ve jumped in, if you’d been sat where I was—”

“I’m not dignifying that with a response.”