Chapter 9

9

Gio felt tranquil and frequently sleepy with the decent painkillers he was on. He'd had his shepherd's pie, which wasn't bad for hospital food, at least visually, although the same couldn't be said for its texture, which reminded him of pureed kiddie food. He'd finished all of his apple strudel and ice cream, and his leg didn't hurt too much after his knee repair surgery.

What pained him now was his mum and the nurse's conversation about Christmas shopping, Christmas trees, all things festive. Not that he had a problem with the festive season; it was just that he worried his mum wasn't at work and all the talking and attention was beginning to feel suffocating.

His boss had come to see him yesterday. Apparently, the source of the fire they'd attended the night of Gio's accident was an electric bike left on charge inside the building. The explosion had been due to a faulty gas appliance. The details had mostly washed over Gio, who was half awake at the time, and it hadn't helped the situation he was in, but it was a kind of debrief, the sort the rest of the crew would have got back at the station as they went through what had happened, used it to learn from. His boss had reiterated what Gio knew, too: that he'd be on full pay for six months while he recovered. His boss talked about what happened after that, should Gio need longer to recuperate. By that time, his pay would reduce and his boss skated over some of the details for him. Gio only hoped it wouldn't come to that because if it did, dealing with less money every month would be the least of his worries. Mentally, he'd lose it if this job was taken away from him.

When the nurse went on her way to attend to another patient, he had to ask Marianne, ‘Why aren't you at your cleaning job? You've been here a lot since my accident.'

‘Of course I'm here. And work have been very understanding.'

Really? She had only just joined them – surely their understanding would only go so far.

‘I was in this morning, 7a.m. I'll be in again tomorrow, same time. I've been juggling both.'

‘You never said.'

‘I did, but those drugs have made you forget.'

Usually, he'd suspect her of lying but he had woken earlier thinking he was in a bed at the fire station, and last night, he'd had a dream he was a tortoise doing his best to win a race. He supposed his mother had a point.

He hauled himself up against his pillows, which Marianne adjusted for him. ‘I don't want you to lose this job.'

‘I don't want to either.' She checked her phone when it pinged. ‘That's your brother; he's home safely. I insisted he text me when he arrived.'

‘Where did he go?'

‘He was here last night to see you. '

‘I don't remember.'

‘I only knew because one of the nurses told me. She said he came right at the end of visiting hours; they almost didn't let him in. I called him once I'd spoken to the nurse and he said he hadn't been able to hang around for long because Saffy is away at her parents' and he'd left the kids with a sitter.' She tutted. ‘I said he should've brought them here and I could've looked after them.'

‘You have a job.' And there was no way Marco would've trusted Marianne with his kids.

‘I suppose.' She pulled his phone from her bag. ‘Here, all charged up – you and he can message each other or FaceTime.'

‘Cheers, Mum. Did you and he talk?'

She shook her head. ‘I think that's why he came so late: so he could avoid me.'

When the doctor came around, the focus turned to him rather than his mum or Marco. They talked about the operation to repair the patella, the triangular bone at the front of the knee. The doctor answered his questions and also the surprising amount his mum asked. They discussed what his recovery would involve and by the time the doc left, Gio was exhausted. His mum went to get a coffee and he must have fallen asleep because when he woke again, she was settled in a chair at his bedside reading a magazine.

‘You've been asleep a while,' she told him.

‘Feels like five minutes.'

‘That's because your body needs to heal. I don't mind; go back to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up.'

There was something about her words and the way she said it that almost had him choking back tears. It was the sort of thing he would've liked to have heard as a boy when he fell over and cut himself, if he was struggling at school, when he was missing his dad after he walked out on them.

‘Sleep is a waste of time,' he claimed before he closed his eyes yet again and didn't wake until it was dark beyond the windows of the ward. Bleeping from machines – his and others' – the low hum of nurses conversing beside the bed opposite his, the louder voices passing by outside the ward, all of it a new landscape right now and for at least another couple of days. Then he'd need physiotherapy and occupational therapy to get him moving around and eventually back to work.

‘So, work tomorrow morning,' said Gio after his mum passed him the cup of water from his tray table and he took a sip. ‘You should get going, get some sleep yourself.'

‘I'd better.' And she leaned over, kissed him on the forehead.

‘Goodnight, Mum.'

He FaceTimed his brother next, still unable to believe he'd missed his visit. But it was good to see him now. He brushed aside Marco's lecture that he shouldn't rush his recovery, that he had to take it easy whether he liked it or not. It reminded him of how his brother had always looked out for him over the years.

And then he slept yet again, surprising even himself.

The following day, with his mother hopefully at her job – she hadn't shown up at the hospital, which was a good sign – the surgeon came by to examine Gio's knee.

‘How are you feeling?' he asked.

‘Not bad at all.'

‘Good.' He nodded, taking off the disposable gloves now he'd finished his exam. ‘And now the truth.'

‘All right, there's a bit of pain and swelling but it's honestly not so bad.'

‘The physiotherapist will come and have a chat with you later, discuss what happens from here.' The surgeon had done his bit; time to move him on to the next person on the rehabilitation conveyor belt.

By the time the doctor finished with him, Gio had been about ready to fall back to sleep but his next visitor had him more alert than he'd been since he was airlifted here what felt like aeons ago.

‘I knew you wouldn't resist me for long,' he grinned at the curly-haired beauty approaching his bed. Dressed not in her Skylarks uniform but in jeans and a roll-neck jumper that hugged her body in ways that had him feeling things he'd rather not be feeling in a ward filled with five other patients, Bess came over bearing a gift box.

‘You've still got your sense of humour, I see.' But she was amused, he could tell.

‘That for me?'

‘Courtesy of Nadia, who has been baking again – I nabbed these brownies before the other team came on shift and she was all for me smuggling them out of there for you.'

When he opened the box, the smell confirmed that Nadia was no novice in the kitchen. ‘Want one?'

Bess hooked her bag on the back of the chair. ‘Not for me, thanks; there's the dreaded weigh-in next shift.'

‘They weigh you? Brutal.' Nothing wrong with her weight from where he was standing, or more accurately, lying.

‘Helicopter fuel is calculated taking into account weight on board, which includes us as well as equipment. The whole team dreads a weigh-in, especially post-Christmas. We do our best to blame it on winter jackets and layers rather than indulging – it's usually quite amusing.'

‘Have a brownie… Go on, you know you want to.' There was something about Bess that made him feel instantly better, like he could jump out of bed at any moment. Although on a recently da maged knee, that probably wouldn't be the best idea he'd ever had.

She reached for one, her smile addictive. ‘Go on then. I'll wear lighter layers at the next weigh in,' she joked.

He liked that she savoured it and wasn't hung up on her weight or what she ate; too many women were. He'd once dated a woman who had only ever ordered a salad when they went out but then ate half his chips when the food came.

‘The rest are for your pleasure,' Bess told him after she'd licked her lips following the final mouthful.

But then she looked away as though her choice of words had all kinds of thoughts soaring through her mind, exactly like they were doing in his. Over the years, he'd thought about asking her out more than once but he had to admit, he wasn't sure he was good enough for Bess. He certainly hadn't been back in his twenties or thirties when he'd have laughed if anyone had suggested a long-term relationship. He'd thought he wasn't built for them, he'd thought he'd never go the distance, but something about Bess had made him want to try. And yet he'd held back from making a move. Their friendship was too important to him.

‘How are you feeling?' she asked before taking the box of brownies back and setting them on the shelf near his bed.

‘Not too bad. Thanks to The Skylarks coming to my rescue.' He held her gaze for a moment. ‘My knee was pretty smashed up but it's all fixed now.'

‘Might be a while until you're on your feet. Literally.'

‘The doc says I'll be leaving here in a couple of days, got the physio making all sorts of plans for me.'

‘That's good.' She flapped the front of her jumper. ‘It's hot in here.'

‘Yeah, glad I'm not the one who has to pay the energy bill for this place. '

She didn't seem to find that particularly funny. Perhaps he was losing his touch; usually, he could make her smile easily.

When she wriggled her jumper up and over her head, he didn't mind the glimpse of the flesh on her tummy and her belly button. But she caught him staring.

‘What are you smiling at?' She sat down, swept her curls from her face.

‘You have a tattoo. How did I not know that? We're friends.'

‘I didn't have it when we were sharing a house.'

‘But still…'

‘We're not that close,' she teased. She didn't elaborate on the dolphin to the right of her belly button and, instead, changed the subject. ‘You were really lucky, Gio.'

‘So they keep telling me.'

‘You disobeyed an order. I heard it; everyone heard it.'

‘Not great to do that,' he admitted. ‘But I'd do what I did again to save a life.'

‘Why didn't the young woman come out with everyone else?'

‘I think she got disorientated. She said she'd been in the bathroom when the alarm sounded and she panicked. She tried to run to the back door but couldn't find her way – she was an intern; it was her first day. Someone said she'd left already; someone else was adamant that she hadn't. I would never have forgiven myself if I hadn't checked the building was definitely empty.'

‘And I never would have forgiven you if you'd died.' She pushed his arm gently, the warmth of skin on skin sending sparks of euphoria zapping through him in a way not even a strong medication had managed to do yet. He and Bess had hugged as friends plenty of times, been in close proximity to each other, they'd danced at their mutual friend's wedding. And yet, now, every look and every touch felt more intimate .

‘I'm not sure what shook that young woman up more, you know – the fire or me in all my breathing apparatus finding her and scooping her up to take her to safety.'

‘She's alive and kicking thanks to you.'

‘Yeah, and apparently I'm a hero.'

‘So you told me after we gave you the good drugs.'

He put a hand across his face. He didn't remember. God, what else had he said? Nothing too incriminating, he hoped.

‘What else did I say?' he asked her.

She grinned. ‘That's for me to know…'

‘Come on, you can't leave me to think the worst.'

Just then, a nurse popped in to check his blood pressure and ask whether he needed more painkillers, but right now, he didn't. Seeing Bess seemed to be bringing on enough feel-good endorphins.

‘Did you talk to your mum yet?' he asked when the nurse left them to it. They hadn't talked much since they'd met on scene that day and Bess had found out in a difficult way that her mum was dating. ‘Have you met the boyfriend? Malcolm, wasn't it?'

‘Yes, it was. And no, I've not met him yet. I should, though.'

‘You still don't like the idea of her having a boyfriend?'

‘I'm not too happy that I didn't know about him,' she said, ‘but I'm getting used to the idea.' She flipped the questioning around. ‘Talking of mothers, how long is yours in town?'

He was momentarily confused with the unexpected question, and it took him a moment to cast his mind back to the meeting in the supermarket. He gestured for her to pass the spare pillow sitting on the windowsill he couldn't reach from his bed.

‘Where do you want it?' she asked.

‘Behind me will do.' He wished he'd made more of a fuss and that she wasn't so efficient because the pillow was in place quickly and he wouldn't have minded feeling her hands against his shoulder for a bit longer as she wriggled the pillow behind him.

Now he was more propped up, the fluorescent light wasn't firing directly into his line of vision and he answered her question. ‘I'm not sure how long Mum is staying.'

She would remember from their days in the shared house that it was a constant worry for him that his mother would show up unannounced. To be fair, she never had; he'd always been the one to go to her. Back then, he'd felt an attraction towards Bess but with his family hassles and his family history, he didn't have the headspace to go in for anything serious. He'd met the odd boyfriend of Bess's during that time – one total knob who gave her the run around, another more serious type she'd ended it with because he wanted to move back to Ireland and she didn't want to go with him.

‘I know you two have had your problems over the years,' she said.

‘That's putting it mildly.' An exasperated sigh left his lips. ‘Our family has been through a lot; you know some of what happened. She claims to have reached a turning point this time, though.'

‘That's a good thing, isn't it?'

She was good at this: liaison with her peers. He'd seen it with people at the scene on a job, how she was a comfort to a patient, the fact she always seemed to know the right thing to say. Not everyone did.

Bess picked up her jumper when she saw three of his colleagues coming into the ward. ‘That's my cue to move on.'

‘Please stay a bit longer.'

She paused briefly, maybe considering it.

‘Don't make me beg. '

‘I won't, but remember it's two visitors to a bed and I'll let this trio get in trouble rather than me.'

With a smile and a wave, she left.

And despite the handshakes and camaraderie from his colleagues, he'd much rather see a lot more of Bess right now than anyone else.

It felt like it really could be the start of something between them.