Page 43 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Nothing in Josie’s life has prepared her for being captive in a bed in a hospital ward, completely reliant on other people, not even able to wee for herself. Or do other things.

That’s really the worst part – worse than the pain that comes when her medication wears off and goes when she takes more of it.

Bodily functions. Things no one has helped her with since she was a very small child – so small she can’t remember her mum taking her to the toilet.

It’s really humiliating, having to ask a nurse to help you with … you know. YOU KNOW.

When she said something to her mum about it, Erin just said, ‘Try having a baby, then you’ll find out about humiliation. You’re like a piece of meat on a slab and everyone’s poking you.’

Was that meant to make her feel better? Especially since she had been the baby in question?

She supposed her mother was trying to be sympathetic but it didn’t work.

And Josie really needs sympathy. Really, seriously.

Her father, when he visits, looks miserable and says little, so she’s not getting it from him.

The nurses are brisk and their smiles don’t seem genuine, and she can’t really blame them when they have to spend all day tending to you know , among other things.

What a horrible job. Josie couldn’t do it.

That’s why she’s doing hair. Was doing hair.

Does she still have a job? Her apprenticeship is stuffed.

Except Trudy came to visit, with Evie. So that must mean Trudy still wants her around. She didn’t say anything about the job other than ‘you just take your time getting better’. Which could mean ‘take your time because there’s no job to come back to’ or ‘take your time and I’ll hold it for you’.

At least those two were sympathetic. They gasped – loudly – when they walked in and saw her with her legs in casts.

‘Oh god, Josie, you poor little thing!’ Trudy cried when she entered the room.

Erin looked up from her magazine. ‘Hello, Trudy,’ she said.

At least she put the magazine down and stood up to properly say hello.

Most days she just sits in that chair and reads, and Josie wonders why she bothers coming here.

Josie even said that to Erin the other day when she was feeling really low.

‘Where else would I be?’ her mother said. ‘I know there’s not much excitement for you having me around, but if I were at home I’d just be worrying about you.’

It wasn’t about excitement, Josie wanted to tell her. It was about privacy. She has none. No point saying that, though, because Erin will get upset and make her feel guilty, and Josie can do without the guilt. It’s bad enough her car was written off – she’s been feeling bad about that for days.

Her mum and Trudy chatted along like old friends, which made Josie wonder how many times they’d spoken before.

Evie gave Josie the chocolates she’d brought; Josie didn’t tell her she couldn’t eat chocolates because her stomach is sensitive at the moment and chocolates make her you know .

These are things she actually wishes she could say to people because they might be sympathetic – we all have issues with digestion from time to time – but she knows her mother would flip, and as her mother is always around when Josie is conscious, that won’t happen.

The only time her mother did give her some space was when Trudy and Evie visited.

‘I’ll just duck out for a while and leave you to chat,’ Erin said, taking her book with her, so Josie knew she was going for a while.

They pulled up chairs on one side of the bed, which was considerate, because then Josie didn’t need to turn her head from side to side to talk to them.

‘How are you going, pet?’ Trudy reached across and patted her hand.

There was such care in her voice and on her face that Josie started to cry.

‘Um …’ she said, sniffing and wiping her face with her hand until Trudy gave her a tissue.

Neither Trudy nor Evie looked uncomfortable, which Josie was so glad about. There’s nothing worse than crying involuntarily and having people look as if they’d rather you sink into a hole in the ground.

‘Better out than in,’ Trudy said with a reassuring smile. ‘I still cry over my Laurie and it helps me feel better.’

Josie has barely heard Laurie’s name mentioned but she knows he’s Trudy’s late husband.

So she guesses that Trudy has a lot of sadness about that.

More sadness than her mother has about the babies she lost, although that’s quite heavy too.

And probably the reason why Erin won’t leave the hospital unless Josie is asleep: she waited so long and went through so much to get Josie, then Josie almost did herself in over an argument about a boy who hasn’t even been to see her.

Not that she wants him to see her in this state.

No bloke would be attracted to a girl with her lower half in a cast and a WEE BAG at the end of the bed.

She cringes each time a male doctor comes in to check on her – and there have been a few, which makes her feel like a freak show, everyone coming in to gawk – so she absolutely, no way, does not want Brett to see her.

Except …

Except she wants to know he cares. Is that weird? That she doesn’t want to see him but she wants to know he wants to see her? Shouldn’t there be a word for that kind of feeling? Maybe there is. She isn’t good at words, after all.

While Trudy was here she wanted to ask if he’d been by the salon, but she didn’t.

It’s been over a week since the accident, though, so wouldn’t he be wondering where she is?

The last time they saw each other he’d promised to arrange a drive to Newcastle so they could go to Merewether, which is one of his favourite beaches. He thought she’d love the baths there.

Turned out she didn’t have to ask Trudy, because she volunteered some information.

‘Your young man,’ she said, and Josie held her breath. ‘I saw him outside the shop on Tuesday, but he didn’t come in. I was with a client so I couldn’t go out to tell him. Haven’t seen him since. Have you seen him, Evie?’

Evie shook her head. ‘No, but I’m usually gone by the time Josie finishes. Gotta get Billy.’

So that was that. The visit was nice but Josie was tired after ten minutes and glad when her mother re-entered the room and suggested she needed a rest.

‘We understand, pet,’ Trudy said. ‘Talking takes work, and you need your strength to get better.’

After they were gone, though, and it was just her and her mum again, Josie felt lonely.

Which was strange, because her mum was right there, but it was the sort of loneliness that comes from thinking no one understands what you’re going through and there’s no way to tell them.

She used to feel it at school when girls were mean to her.

There was no one to talk to about it, no one who could say, ‘Yes, I’ve been through that myself.

’ She just had to put her head down and get through it.

She does remember one thing from history class that keeps coming to mind, and her teachers wouldn’t believe it if she told them that’s what she retained.

It’s that thing Winston Churchill said during World War II: ‘If you’re going through hell, keep going.

’ She’s not in a war, of course, but there are times when lying here in this bed, unable to get up, feeling like she’s wasting away and wasting her life and wasting her time and wasting everyone else’s, is a form of hell.

Or maybe she’s just bored. Anyway, that thing Churchill said helps, because it reminds her that she got through the hell that was school so she can get through this too.

If only Brett would call. Or something. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so alone.