Rewriting the Ending

by H P Tune

  “Yeah, there’s a doctor that will come around soon. I suppose they do ward rounds or something. Apparently, the police have already phoned. I don’t even have my keys. Everything was in my bag. This is just a hassle as much as anything else.”

  “Yeah, well, the logistics we can sort. You have to look after yourself, though. That’s more important.”

  Juliet chuckled. “Says the girl who hasn’t just had all of her cards and shit stolen.”

  “Great point. But you have broken bones and stitches. Priorities, okay? You need to take it easy.”

  “I know I do. Hey, the doctor is here. Can I call you back later?”

  “Anytime. Or I’ll call you.”

  “I’ll let you know what’s happening. Thanks, Mia.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Juliet’s eyes fixed on the team of doctors standing at the end of her bed. “Hello.” Her gaze dropped to the barely touched meal still on her table.

  There was some brief communication between them, presumably in Flemish, before they focussed on Juliet. One stepped forward, and Juliet guessed he was one of the senior doctors by how he had dominated the previous conversation. “How are you feeling?”

  Forcing a smile, Juliet nodded, though if one more person asked her how she was feeling, she might just walk herself out of the hospital. “Okay, thank you.”

  “Pain?”

  “Only a little, manageable,” she said.

  “Would you like to leave?”

  Juliet raised her eyebrows. Was it up to her if she left the hospital or not? “Umm, yeah, I guess so. Yes.”

  “You can be discharged with some pain management, and you’ll need the stitches removed in a week. Here or a local practitioner is fine. You have some papers in your chart, and I will sign those for your insurance company.”

  “Okay.” She was somewhat awestruck and immensely appreciative of the English communication. “Umm, the nurse was going to redress the stitches,” she said, tapping her face, just above her eyebrow, and they all nodded in unison at her. “And the police are coming back?”

  “Yes, they are outside waiting. No rush. You should eat breakfast.” He checked his watch and smiled. “Or lunch.”

  “Thank you so much. You have all been wonderful to me.”

  As if on cue, the nurse from earlier returned, a few sealed dressings in her hands. She had a brief conversation with the team before they all filed out of her room.

  “Teaching hospital,” she explained to Juliet. “That’s why there’s so many of them. Only trust the ones in scrubs. The others are interns and students.”

  “They’re the bosses?”

  “Yes, and blue are the trainees.”

  “I remember the black scrubs from last night.”

  “They probably checked you over first, ordered some scans and X-rays. A loss of consciousness means you come in as a high priority.”

  Juliet nodded slowly. She hadn’t spent much time around hospitals, just the occasional visit. “So we’ll just change these, and you can head off.”

  Reaching over to the table, Juliet took a couple of bites of cold toast as the nurse went about putting gloves on and peeling back the plastic dressing covers. “I gave a statement to the police last night, didn’t I?” She stared quietly at the wall as she tried to place all the pieces together in some sort of chronological order.

  “There are notes in your chart. You spoke to police before they moved you around here. They might have some more questions for you, though.”

  Juliet shrugged. “If it’s anything like home, these people don’t get caught anyway.”

  “You never know.”

  Rolling her eyes, Juliet stilled as the adhesive was peeled from her skin, then some antiseptic applied. “Any doctor can take the stitches out in a week?”

  “Yes, there are plenty of local doctors around, and I’ve got some discharge papers for you to take, so they can just be given to them. Any new pain or any changes or concerns, you should come back.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I wish all my patients were as polite as you. Now stay and finish what you can and stop at the nurses’ station on your way out. I’ll have your papers and some analgesia ready for you.”

  When she was left alone, Juliet finished the slice of bread and recovered the plate, reaching for her phone as it vibrated next to her on the bed. Another message from Mia.

  Sending you a virtual hug xo.

  Almost the exact words Juliet had typed in an e-mail to Mia a week or so earlier. Pushing her feet into shoes, Juliet sat on the edge of the bed and tapped at her phone.

  The hug made me feel so much better. :-) Just about to leave hospital, talk to you soon. xo

  A kiss and a hug, right there for the first time, in black and white.

  * * *

  It took Juliet three attempts before her key card lit green and she could open the door to the hotel room. At the huge king-size bed and the folded fluffy white towels, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief and could already imagine collapsing onto it while watching some terrible cable show.

  She hobbled to the opposite side of the room, leaning on the doorway and poking her head into the bathroom. There was a large bath, and given that her knee had only just started aching, the idea of a soak in soapy water was deliciously appealing.

  The day had been long and generally crap despite the support and understanding everyone had shown her. When the police had taken her back to her apartment, they found that it had been entered and her belongings ransacked. The only saving grace was that her passport, still held securely inside a zippered side compartment in her backpack, and her clothes too were still all there despite everything having been tossed around her bedroom. Her laptop and cables, however, were nowhere to be seen. She had given a minor cheer of excitement when she found a small USB stick on the floor of the kitchen. Whether it had been deliberately discarded or had just fallen out of her computer, she wasn’t sure, but she was endlessly grateful.

  She was surprisingly ordered and calm, just going about collecting her gear and liaising with the police. She made sure that she had the police reports and had them scan and e-mail a copy to her and to Mia’s e-mail addresses as well. Mia, at Juliet’s hesitant request, had taken care of some of the insurance side of things. Within a few hours, Mia had had the insurance company arrange more than adequate accommodation for Juliet; in fact it was perfect.

  However, it was somewhat ironic that the best accommodation she had managed to have in years was a result of a traumatic assault. Her life was nothing but absurdities.

  Not unexpectedly, her phone started ringing. It was at least the fourth time that day she had spoken with Mia. And Juliet was starting to want to answer each call. If she was being honest, she waited for them. “I owe you,” Juliet said immediately as she answered.

  “You do?”

  “Yep, this place is incredible. What did you do, threaten the insurance company?”

  Mia laughed. “Would I do that? No, not at all. It fails the PR test if they put you up in some dive, so it definitely didn’t take much convincing. Those med reports you had sent through also helped guilt them into things.”

  “I can’t wait to sleep,” Juliet murmured, “and the bed looks awesome.”

  “You must be exhausted.”

  “Yeah, pretty much. It’s been quite the day.”

  “How goes the pain level and stuff?”

  Juliet muttered a nonsensical sound. “All right I suppose,” she said. “Not great. Trying to pack my bag and just moving in and out of cars…bit rough on the ribs. I’m starting to look delightful too. My eye can barely open with the swelling.”

  “Ack, that’s awful. You poor thing.”

  “Oh, don’t be too sympathetic. You’ve just about organised my life today; not sure how it would have gone without you.”

  A snigger drifted through the phone.

  “What?” Juliet asked.

  “Nothing,” Mia sai
d. “I’m just happy to hear you’re okay with me helping you out.”

  “Oh, have I not been grateful? God, because I am. So much.”

  “I know. I’m only kidding. There are a few more things I need to organise for you, though, so you have to put up with me a little longer. Your insurance company…Oh, by the way, I’m now best mates with your file manager, Jerry. He’s oddly chipper. Anyway, they want to move you tomorrow to somewhere different for a week. I don’t really get why, something about vacancies with their usual motel chain, I think. So you’ll need to be sorted around ten. They’ll arrange transport and all that jazz.”

  “Are you kidding? I just want to hide in the one place for at least a week. I really shouldn’t be seen in public.”

  “Have you thought anything about what you’re going to do? This wasn’t really part of the plan.”

  Juliet sighed, and she felt her chest tighten. She hadn’t really expressed it, but the idea of continuing with her initial sabbatical idea was frightening. “I really don’t know. Can you just stay in touch, though? I mean, you don’t have to, and I know that you’re going through…something…something too…”

  “Yes, of course, Juliet.” Mia made a point of interrupting her before she could talk herself out of the simple yet cautious request. “It’s okay to be scared, you know.”

  “I’m not scared.” She was, however, embarrassed and vulnerable, she thought.

  “Yeah. And I’m not grieving.”

  “We’re a pair, huh?”

  “Absolutely. So, are you going to take a shower and get some rest?”

  “I think I’m going to run a bath, actually, soak for a little while. I thanked you, right, for sorting my insurance stuff? I really couldn’t have done it today. I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “We’re just even now. I owed you for my Christmas…thing.”

  “Thanks. We’ll talk tomorrow?”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” Mia confirmed. “And hey, I’m giving you a hug right now, kind of gentle though. Wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

  Juliet laughed lightly, open palm protecting her ribs. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Bye, Juliet. Get some sleep.”

  “Will do. See ya, Mia.”

  Hanging up, Juliet tossed her phone onto the bed. She turned on the faucets over the bath and padded back across the room. Peeling her clothes off, she left them on the floor, not sure she wanted to keep them. But she would make that decision in the morning. The closet held two robes on wooden hangers, so she withdrew one and carried it to the bathroom, testing the temperature of the water before lowering herself in. Slowly, she stretched back until her shoulders rested against the porcelain with a towel wrapped into a ball that she stuffed under her neck as a pillow. The water lapped over her bruised stomach and up over her breasts, not quite reaching her neck, where the two-inch-wide material burn wrapped over her shoulder and collarbone.

  Juliet closed her eyes and locked her damaged body out of her vision. And in the silence of the bathroom, the isolation of the hotel room, she cried thick, heavy tears that didn’t stop until her shoulders shuddered and her side protested with a painful throbbing.

  CHAPTER 8

  Taking a deep breath, Juliet flexed her bicep and lifted her backpack, weighed down with clothes, books, some emptying toiletries, cables, and a few food items that she had collected from her apartment’s pantry. She audibly cried out in pain and doubled over at the attempt, bag falling to the floor and toppling on its side. Bending over, she placed two open palms on her thighs and tried to ease air into her lungs. She opened her eyes and stared at the offending object. It was probably only thirty-five pounds, but it was thirty-five pounds she couldn’t lift.

  She fished around for a stray bill in her pockets, disappointed when she didn’t find a random euro. Tapping her thumbs together, Juliet checked the side zippers on her large backpack before digging inside her daypack and around the messy main compartment. When her fingers withdrew with a collection of discarded breath mints, she threw them in the trashcan before returning to scavenge further. Eventually she drew out a rolled up collection of US bills, secured with an elastic hair tie. She figured there must have been some logic in her doing that when she left the States, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what that was. It would have to do.

  A cursory glance at the clock indicated that it was ten fifteen. She was meant to be out by ten.

  “Hello,” she said into the handset to reception, “could I have someone collect my bags please? I’m in room 1210.”

  She opened the door a few minutes later, guarding her ribs. “Thank you,” Juliet said warmly, holding out four dollars. “I’m so sorry, it’s all I have.” The porter waved away her offer. She insisted again, and he took the tip, though not before staring openly at her battered face.

  “Go ahead,” he said, “and I will bring.”

  The woman behind the check-in desk downstairs did not manage to completely hide her second glance behind a neutral smile as she looked up from the computer monitor.

  “I’m checking out of room 1210,” Juliet said. “My travel insurer should have arranged payment.”

  “Yes.” She scanned the notes on her file with her index finger. “Yes, all done. There is a gentleman by the chair over there waiting for you. Your bags won’t be a moment.”

  The invisible line in the direction the woman indicated led her gaze to a man standing alone in long black slacks, a white collared shirt, and double-breasted jacket. “Hello,” she said as she walked toward him, “I’m Juliet Taylor.”

  He gently shook Juliet’s limp hand. “Ma’am, your bags are on their way down, and then we can get on our way.”

  “On our way?” Juliet asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Your flight is at ten past three from Brussels. I’ll have you there in plenty of time.”

  “My flight?” The words were out of her mouth before Juliet realised. She repeated them with significant disbelief. “My flight?”

  Reaching inside his jacket, he withdrew a folded-up piece of paper. “My instructions state SN 2063 with Brussels Airlines, departure time at three ten. Is that correct?”

  Juliet shook her head. “Ah, no, I don’t understand. My insurance company was arranging alternative accommodation, umm, a change in hotels. There must be a mix-up, and you’re here for someone else.”

  He pressed a number of keys on his cell phone and held the phone to his ear, jotting down some notes as he carried on a quick conversation. Disconnecting, he met Juliet’s expectant look.

  “The flight is from Brussels to Edinburgh and booked by a Ms Mia Revira. Is that familiar?”

  Juliet opened her mouth to speak and then closed her lips again. “Ah.” Her facial muscles tensed, spreading a dull ache into her temples. “Can you wait a moment?”

  Stunned, she drew from her hip pocket her phone, the only thing of value that she still owned. The driver stepped back, indicating to the single lounge chair for Juliet to sit. He walked over to the lobby counter to collect Juliet’s bags as she hastily dialled Mia, cutting off Mia’s soft greeting.

  “So there’s this man here who thinks he’s driving me to the airport to get on a flight to Scotland?”

  A prolonged silence drifted between them, and Mia asked quietly, “You’re mad?”

  “I’m not mad, but I thought I was changing hotels. I mean, you said last night that they were arranging another hotel.” The spontaneity was eliciting some panic, given the trauma of the previous thirty-six hours. She softened. “You organised this?”

  “It was all starting to get a bit crazy. The insurance will only cover you for so long, and you were going to have to do all this running around to get new cards. I just thought that if you come here, you could get some rest and I could help get everything organised.” Mia paused, and Juliet heard her draw in a quick breath. “And then you can go back when you feel better. I have a guest room here, and there’s heaps of space.”

  Ag
ain, Mia stopped momentarily. It gave Juliet an opportunity to interrupt, but she was still frozen with disbelief.

  “I’m sorry. I should have discussed it with you. I just thought that if I gave you time, you would not want to do it or would want to sort everything out yourself. I didn’t mean to just make the decision for you.”

  “Okay,” Juliet said. “Okay.”

  “Okay? So you’ll come? I mean, if you really want to stay, I can sort something else out for you there…”

  Juliet glanced around the hotel lobby, eyes scanning from the revolving glass door and across to the restaurant where she’d had a buffet breakfast. She looked at the driver Mia had arranged, who was chatting idly to the staff and a couple of guests.

  “I have nothing,” she said, “and I’ve never been in this position before. I have nowhere to go and no money and no one to turn to.”

  Mia took a moment to answer. “It’s not conditional, Juliet. If you want to stay, I’ll get back on to Jerry and abuse the crap out of him, if that’s what it takes. But you do have someone, okay? You hear me? I know it feels strange, but I’m right here.”

  “I really don’t want to stay.” Her whisper came out shaky.

  “Then you have a flight to catch.”

  “I do.”

  “You do. Okay?”

  “How do I…I mean, I can catch a train or something from Edinburgh?”

  “I’ll be there. I’m not putting you on a train.” Mia laughed. “Now go on. You’ve got an hour-or-two drive ahead of you. Have you got some water? Something to eat? The guy driving you should have your flight details. Just check in with your passport. But if you need any of the paperwork, let me know. I have it all here.”

  A slight smile tugged at one corner of Juliet’s mouth. “Yeah, I got a bottle from the room, and I may have taken a muffin and apple from breakfast this morning. They’re in my bag.”

  “Nicely done. I’ll see you in sunny Scotland, ’kay?”