"She already knows," says Max guiltily. "I rang her...but it's okay. We convinced her to stay put for now."
I give him a look. "For now?" That's not reassuring. "I'll talk to her in the morning, tell her you made the whole thing up." I giggle. Then my smile fades, "Oh and Max. I know none of you would talk to him, but under no circumstances is Danny to know about this."
As I finish the sentence, I catch a look flit between them. What does that mean? They wouldn’t…I dismiss the thought, they just wouldn’t.
"Everything is fine at work by the way." Max jumps in, changing the subject. "Josh called everyone to tell them what happened and, between them, they’ve rearranged everything so that you and I are not needed at all. They all send their love.” He squeezes my hand.
"Well you tell them I love them too." I say, feeling overwhelmed.
"Oh and they've finished the lights."
"Finished them?"
"Yep." Max nods, amused. "The day shift stayed behind for an hour and did it between them. There was plenty of ladder-holding!" He laughs, then his smile vanishes. "I'm so sorry I was on the phone." He whispers, glancing again at Connie. What is going on between these two?
I'm just about to ask, when the nurse comes round with my medication. Seizing their moment to escape, Max and Connie arrange that Max will come back in the morning and wait while I’m in surgery and Connie will get everything ready for me at home...Then they are gone. Once again I’m alone and feeling sorry for myself. Fucking Danny, selfish bastard. I hate the silence, I’m in a two-bed room, but the other bed is empty. I unravel the headphones and put on some music, then I close my eyes and drift into a restless, painful sleep.
Chapter Three
Liv
Can I have a hug?
My face is lightly brushed by a soft hand and it snaps me out of the deep darkness. A warmth surrounds me and I feel a peace that I haven’t felt for at least a week. Fleetingly, I want to know who the hand belongs to, but I’m deep in a foggy state and I instinctively know I’m not even close to the surface yet.
The hand skims over my skin again. It’s bringing me forward from the depths of sleep, but only enough to be aware if the comfort it brings. Comfort I want so badly it aches. The fingers traces the line of my jaw, but then withdraws and I’m left with the darkness again.
My eyes don’t want to open as I tune into the sounds in the room. I can hear Max talking to someone, but it isn’t clear who. They are speaking too quietly. My mouth is dry and my throat is sore, but I’m just not awake enough yet to tell them. Vaguely, I recall a spell in the recovery room, but I can’t place when that was. As I fight through, I manage to prise open an eye and then lift my hand. What a horrible feeling, like trying to run through treacle. But, quickly, I start to win.
“Liv,” says Max. “She’s coming round.” He says to the someone else. The someone else mutters a response.
Max pulls a chair next to me and sits down, holding my hand. “Hey, Liv,” he says gently.
I peel both eyes open and blink at the blurriness. “I need a drink.” I manage in a hoarse whisper, my throat so dry it feels stuck together.
“The nurse is just bringing you some water.” he soothes.
It feels like evening, but it must still be morning, unless the operation took way longer than expected. The room is dimly lit and cosy. I blink and look around. The curtains are closed and the slightest trace of daylight is trying to peep around them. A nurse appears and greets us warmly.
“How are we?” she asks.
“My throat is sore,” I tell her.
“Yes, that’s from the breathing tube they use during the op. Let’s get you a sip of water.”
I try to sit up, but the nurse puts her hand on my shoulder. “Just relax, these beds do all the work for you, you know.” She unhooks the control from the side of the bed and begins raising me into a sitting position. From here I can see better and I glance around for another person, feeling like not everyone is accounted for. But it’s just Max and the nurse going about her business. My heart sinks with disappointment, I don’t know what I was expecting, but I felt whole again for a moment when I was awoken by a loving touch. I know I hate Danny, but I know in my heart I thought it was him in the room and in that split second everything seemed right with the world. It was obviously a drug-induced dream and the reality is far more of a nightmare.
“Are you in any pain?” she asks.
Not physically, I want to say. It’s just this aching hole in my chest where my heart should be…But I keep it in. “No, not really.” I reply, forcing myself back to the present. I can’t wallow in this right now, tempting as it is. I have to get better.
“Well, if you feel like it is getting too much just press this button and one of us will see about a top-up.” She busies herself with checking my pulse and blood pressure. Once she is satisfied, she says, “Dr Andrews will be along a little later to chat to you, but I understand the surgery was a complete success. Now you just rest.”
After she leaves us, I turn to Max. “Who were you talking to?”
He frowns. “When?”
“Just before, I could hear your voice, but I couldn’t work out who you were talking to.” Max’s face blanches and he looks guilty, but maybe I’m looking for something that isn’t there. He thinks for a moment and then shrugs. “Just the nurse probably.” I sigh in disappointment. In my hazy dream-state, I hoped Danny had come. I hate myself for it, but for that moment I felt like it would make everything okay again. How desperate am I? I’m not going to admit that to Max though. It’s far too humiliating.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
Pathetic, I think …“Tired.” I reply. I had as good a night’s sleep as it is possible to have in hospital. At about 3am there was some sort of emergency down the corridor. The alarm went off at the nurses’ station just outside my door and every pair of feet in the place seemed to go thundering down the corridor. With all the excitement happening around me, the constant observations carried out by the nurses and the pain, it wasn't a restful night.
“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.”