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Authors: Hilary Boyd
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her pounding head and incipient nausea, still reeling from the previous night. Sex with a man on a first date, when she wasn’t sure she even fancied him that much? She had shocked herself.
She went through the routine of the bed-bath mechanically, rubbing the warm flannel around the old lady’s body, quickly drying her before she got cold. But she remembered the moment when Jake had laid his hand against her cheek. She knew she had hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning into his caress. Then she’d made the decision to go with it, with him. And yes, she had felt a drunken desire,which grew as she gradually let herself go, as she gave in to his enthusiastic lovemaking. But she knew she was not in love with him.
Might love grow? she asked herself, doubtful. But the spectre of Fin, never far from the surface, chose that moment to rise up and offer a rude comparison. The head-over-heels obsession they had had for each other made her feelings for Jake Hobley pale into insignificance. But does it always have to be like that? she wondered, as she bent to tie the laces on her patient’s beige shoes, suddenly disheartened by the likelihood of ever finding such strength of feeling for another man.
*
Rene drove up to the entrance of Charing Cross Hospital in her battered Volvo and stopped in the drop-off parking bay.
‘Could you not get too close to the pavement?’ Flora asked, knowing from past experience that it was easier to lift Dorothea into her chair from the road. ‘Just here would be great.’
‘I’ll park somewhere and find you. First floor, isn’t it?’ An obsessive stickler for rules and regulations, Rene’s gaze darted fretfully about, on the lookout for officials.
Flora did her best to hurry, but it wasn’t easy getting Dorothea out of the front seat and into the wheelchair.
‘Put your hand up here.’ She swung the old lady’s legs,encased in the navy polyester slacks, out onto the road, placing her hand on the top of the door as she hauled her up. ‘Hang on tight.’ She eased Dorothea round until she could sit back into the chair. The old lady had been completely silent on the journey to the hospital, just staring out of the window at the passing traffic. Now she looked up at Flora, her face a mask of bewilderment and anxiety.
‘It’s OK, we’ve done it.’ Flora gave her a reassuring smile as she tucked the rug securely around her patient’s knees.
The x-ray department was packed. Flora asked how long it might be until they were seen, but the unsmiling receptionist, clearly used to this question, merely shrugged. ‘We’re running late,’ she intoned, pointing to the blackboard on the wall on which was scrawled in chalk,
Current waiting time, approx one hour
.
Flora pushed the chair to the end of a row of seats and put on the brake.
‘Might be a long wait,’ she told Dorothea.
‘I … don’t mind. I find waiting rooms entertaining.’
‘You do?’
Dorothea’s eyes flickered with a smile. ‘I don’t get out much these days.’
Flora grinned back. ‘True. Well, Rene will be here soon. Do you want anything to drink? I’ve brought some water.’ But the old lady waved her hand to indicate she didn’t.
Flora drank some water herself. She wasn’t feeling any better, she was just functioning on autopilot, looking forward to the moment when she could lie horizontal again, and sleep. Blurred thoughts of Jake strung through her brain, making her feel alternately uneasy and liberated; her body felt almost bruised. But perhaps, whatever happened next between them, Jake’s touch might have begun to expunge the memory of Fin’s.
The x-ray, when it finally happened, was over in minutes; undressing Dorothea and dressing her again seemed to take hours and was exhausting. Rene fussed around her friend, making everything more stressful for Flora, and probably for Dorothea too, but it was finally done, and Flora wheeled the chair out towards the exit with relief. Rene
She went through the routine of the bed-bath mechanically, rubbing the warm flannel around the old lady’s body, quickly drying her before she got cold. But she remembered the moment when Jake had laid his hand against her cheek. She knew she had hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning into his caress. Then she’d made the decision to go with it, with him. And yes, she had felt a drunken desire,which grew as she gradually let herself go, as she gave in to his enthusiastic lovemaking. But she knew she was not in love with him.
Might love grow? she asked herself, doubtful. But the spectre of Fin, never far from the surface, chose that moment to rise up and offer a rude comparison. The head-over-heels obsession they had had for each other made her feelings for Jake Hobley pale into insignificance. But does it always have to be like that? she wondered, as she bent to tie the laces on her patient’s beige shoes, suddenly disheartened by the likelihood of ever finding such strength of feeling for another man.
*
Rene drove up to the entrance of Charing Cross Hospital in her battered Volvo and stopped in the drop-off parking bay.
‘Could you not get too close to the pavement?’ Flora asked, knowing from past experience that it was easier to lift Dorothea into her chair from the road. ‘Just here would be great.’
‘I’ll park somewhere and find you. First floor, isn’t it?’ An obsessive stickler for rules and regulations, Rene’s gaze darted fretfully about, on the lookout for officials.
Flora did her best to hurry, but it wasn’t easy getting Dorothea out of the front seat and into the wheelchair.
‘Put your hand up here.’ She swung the old lady’s legs,encased in the navy polyester slacks, out onto the road, placing her hand on the top of the door as she hauled her up. ‘Hang on tight.’ She eased Dorothea round until she could sit back into the chair. The old lady had been completely silent on the journey to the hospital, just staring out of the window at the passing traffic. Now she looked up at Flora, her face a mask of bewilderment and anxiety.
‘It’s OK, we’ve done it.’ Flora gave her a reassuring smile as she tucked the rug securely around her patient’s knees.
The x-ray department was packed. Flora asked how long it might be until they were seen, but the unsmiling receptionist, clearly used to this question, merely shrugged. ‘We’re running late,’ she intoned, pointing to the blackboard on the wall on which was scrawled in chalk,
Current waiting time, approx one hour
.
Flora pushed the chair to the end of a row of seats and put on the brake.
‘Might be a long wait,’ she told Dorothea.
‘I … don’t mind. I find waiting rooms entertaining.’
‘You do?’
Dorothea’s eyes flickered with a smile. ‘I don’t get out much these days.’
Flora grinned back. ‘True. Well, Rene will be here soon. Do you want anything to drink? I’ve brought some water.’ But the old lady waved her hand to indicate she didn’t.
Flora drank some water herself. She wasn’t feeling any better, she was just functioning on autopilot, looking forward to the moment when she could lie horizontal again, and sleep. Blurred thoughts of Jake strung through her brain, making her feel alternately uneasy and liberated; her body felt almost bruised. But perhaps, whatever happened next between them, Jake’s touch might have begun to expunge the memory of Fin’s.
The x-ray, when it finally happened, was over in minutes; undressing Dorothea and dressing her again seemed to take hours and was exhausting. Rene fussed around her friend, making everything more stressful for Flora, and probably for Dorothea too, but it was finally done, and Flora wheeled the chair out towards the exit with relief. Rene
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