“Can I see you tonight?” he said, his eyes already knowing my answer.
“No, I need to pack and sort out a few things. I’ll text you tomorrow when… I’ve moved.”
He sighed and got out of the car, then stood, waiting for me to leave.
“I… have to go and check up on something in reception,” I said. “I’ll text you later.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
He walked away, his hands jammed in his pockets. I could tell he felt miserable from the set of his shoulders – and because I felt exactly the same way.
I waited for him to disappear out of sight, then headed to reception where I explained my predicament.
“Of course, ma’am,” said the helpful receptionist. “I’ll just send for one of our first aiders.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary, I can do it myself.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” she said, not sounding at all sorry. “I have to call it in.”
She made a call and a few moments later Ches came striding over, a look of surprise on his face when he saw me.
“Hi, Caroline. How are you?”
“Good thanks, Ches. You?”
“I got a call that someone needed first aid?”
“Yes, this lady here needs some help,” said the receptionist, obviously having one ear tuned to our conversation.
“It’s nothing, really,” I said hastily.
“I’ll take Mrs. Wilson to the med room, Nancy,” said Ches, to the receptionist.
She nodded and returned to her computer screen, having already lost interest.
Reluctantly, I followed him. If I’d known what a fuss was going to be made, I’d have waited until I could have gotten to a pharmacy in town.
It felt awkward being alone in the small room with Ches. He looked uncomfortable, too, shifting around from foot to foot. Maybe he thought I was going to leap on him.
“I just need to change a dressing on my foot,” I said quietly. “Do you have some gauze and tape?”
“Sure. You want me to do that?”
“No, that’s fine, thank you, Ches. I’ll be fine.”
I sat down on the low hospital bed and rolled up my pants leg to my ankle, then tugged gently on the gauze. It was stuck fast. I was going to have to yank it off: and it was going to hurt.
I took a deep breath and pulled hard: a huge flap of skin came away with the gauze. My foot looked like raw meat.
“Wow! That looks bad,” said Ches, his eyes anxious. “I think maybe a doctor should see that.”
Then he blushed, remembering that I was married to a doctor.
We heard voices outside and Sebastian burst in, a worried looking Nancy hot on his heels.
“Caro! Are you okay?”
Damn it! Hadn’t he listened when I’d told him to be more discreet?
“I’m fine, thank you,” I said as calmly as possible. “Ches is looking after me.”
Perhaps noting my chilly reception, or Ches’s panicked look, Sebastian took the hint and closed the door in the face of the nosey Nancy.
“Dude, that looks pretty bad to me,” Ches said quietly to Sebastian, pointing at my foot.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, not at all happy to be the subject of their combined attention. It was like being a particularly ugly zoo exhibit.
“What happened?” said Ches.
“Just a silly accident.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” snarled Sebastian. “Her bastard husband did that to her. Show him the rest of your burns!”
He yanked up my pants leg and Ches’s eyes scrunched up in horror.
“It was an accident,” I whispered again, pushing his hands away.
I couldn’t take the pity I saw on Ches’s face and the anger on Sebastian’s.
To the accompaniment of their silent stares, I cleaned the wound with some saline, applied a thick layer of antibiotic cream and covered it up again. Sebastian’s eyes watched every move I made. Ches was desperately ill at ease; I decided to help him out – and reduce the excess of tension in the room.
“Ches, could you give us a moment, please?”
“Sure, sure. Seb, I’ll see you later, man.”
Sebastian nodded but didn’t look at Ches as he ducked out of the room.