‘Oh, good, it’s you, Sharon,’ Felicity said. She was the department’s head night nurse and I knew her well. We’d both been around since scalpels had been made of flint and bandages of mammoth hide.
I grinned. It was nice to be wanted. ‘You busy?’ I asked, grabbing a report card from the desk.
‘More than usual. There’s been a clinical inspection today and it knocked the late shift back several hours with everything.’
‘Bummer. You want me to get on with anything straight away?’
She glanced down her chart. ‘Yes, could you bedbath Ted Graham in room three? I promised I would, but I have to do the drug round first so it will be ages before I get to him.’
‘No problem at all.’ I glanced at his details on my sheet. Thirty-four-year-old with third degree burns to both hands. Ten days post second skin graft and reconstruction.
‘Great,’ Felicity said. ‘But don’t rush him, will you, if he wants to chat, let him. He’s one of us after all.’
‘He is?’
‘Yep, a fireman, flames got his hands when he was rescuing a pregnant woman from a house fire.’
‘Oh, damn.’
‘Indeed.’
After slipping a plastic apron over my dress, I knocked quietly on the door of room three and stepped in. I shut it tight behind myself.
Ted lay on the bed, a sheet up to his waist and his head sunk into a stack of pillows. He looked big and tough with a wide chest and thick biceps, but his hands were wrapped tight in bulky white bandages, rendering him practically helpless and creating quite a contrast to the burly masculinity of his body.
He smiled when he saw me; his jawline was a wide angular shape, his teeth neat and white. Everything about him was big. He was on a whole different size scale to me.
‘Hi,’ I said and turned down the volume on some chat show he was watching. ‘You must be Ted?’
‘That’s me.’ His voice was deep and rasping, almost smoky. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke.
‘I’m Sharon, would you like me to help you freshen up? Seems the day staff have been frantic.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘You can say that again, they’ve been buzzing around like a bunch of bees that’ve had their nest kicked.’ He laughed. ‘Quite funny to sit back and watch, and not have to do anything to help. I’m used to being in the middle of all the action.’
I liked Ted already. It was the twinkle in his eye, the buoyancy of his voice. He was having a rubbish time, but when people could still smile in that state I couldn’t help but admire them. I didn’t know if I would, given the same situation.
‘We’ll keep ourselves locked out of the way,’ I said, pulling a face. ‘Far from the madding crowd.’
‘Good plan.’ He tried to sit up but struggled when a pillow slipped and he couldn’t stop it falling to the floor.
I pulled his table away from the bed and adjusted his back support. Redoing his pillows.
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘these damn hands are not up to much at the moment.’ He lifted his bandaged fists causing his pectoral muscles to flex and twitch.
I touched his warm, tendon-rich forearm and smiled gently. ‘That’s why I’m here, to help.’
‘I haven’t seen you before,’ he said. ‘Even though I’ve been laid in this room for three weeks now and going backward and forwards to theatre.’
‘No, I haven’t been here for about a month.’
‘Ah, have you been somewhere exotic on a long, luxury holiday with a handsome doctor?’
I laughed. ‘I wish.’ Mmm, four weeks on a deserted island with Javier would certainly give me a boost in all departments. ‘Nope, I’ve just been working on different wards. I’m a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, they send me wherever is low staffed at the beginning of each shift. Tonight I’m afraid you’ve drawn the short straw.’
‘Hardly the short straw,’ he said, tipping his head and studying me with a naughty glint in his eyes.
I laughed. ‘Nice of you to say so. Do you want a drink?’ I nodded at the empty glass on the table. It had a white straw sticking from it.
‘Please, there’s some Coke over there.’
I glanced at where he’d indicated. He had a small, bright red fridge humming in the corner.
‘I had it delivered here from Argos.’ Ted smiled. ‘I hate warm drinks, even in the winter. A habit from days in sunnier climates.’
‘Great idea.’ I opened the small glass door. ‘Hey, you’ve got some beer in here. Want one?’ I turned to him.
He looked at the closed door that led to the ward, as if seeing a frowning authority on the other side. ‘Well, I don’t know if I’m allowed.’
I laughed. ‘Yes, you’re allowed. It’s your beer, you’re a grown man. Have one if you want.’ I picked up an icy cold can and held it aloft.
‘Will you join me?’
I shook my head and widened my eyes. ‘I think that might just get me fired faster than a ball out of a cannon.’
He grinned and I sensed he was swaying.
‘What about the drugs I’m on?’ he asked.
‘No worries. It isn’t strong beer, so one will be perfectly fine and it will probably help you get a good night’s sleep.’
‘I could sleep for the Olympics these days. Not much else to do.’ He rolled his eyes and I thought his mood might switch, but then he grinned. ‘Go on then, if you’re sure it’ll be all right.’
‘I’m sure.’ I shut the fridge and picked up a tall glass from a shelf. ‘Have you had family in today?’
He shook his head. ‘No, not today, and not tomorrow either.’
That surprised me. I would have thought his people would be swarming around him. ‘Why not?’
‘Just how it is for me.’
‘No family?’
‘Nope.’ I held the glass as he took a sip of the beer through the straw. His lips were wide and plump, the bottom one held a small dink at the centre. I noticed there was a good couple of days’ worth of black stubble over his cheeks, jaw and down his neck.
‘Ahh, that’s so good,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Reminds me of being in Greece; with the sun on my back, a heart full of hope and a lust for adventure.’
I walked to the sink, set about filling up a bowl of water and collecting washing paraphernalia. ‘Greece. I’d love to go there.’
‘Beautiful place if you can cope with wasps and earthquakes.’
‘Can you tell me about it?’
‘You really want to hear?’
‘Yes, absolutely. I’ll give you a bit of a wash while you talk. It will make me feel like I’ve had that holiday. I could do with one.’ Plus I liked the lilt of his accent, I couldn’t place it but it was light and complemented the rich throatiness of his voice.
‘Couldn’t we all.’ He paused, then, ‘I grew up in Greece. My father had a job with the government and was posted in Athens. It meant we had a nice house with a pool and a maid. Me and my sister went to a private English school but also learnt to speak fluent Greek. It’s like that when you’re kids. You pick up languages