From Fling to Wedding Ring

by Karin Baine

  Ben didn’t wait for praise on his forward planning or a denial that she was even hungry before bounding down the stairs to answer the door. Tom was working overtime on some commission pieces that could generate a lot of income towards paying for mentors and materials and if he wasn’t quick enough the man mountain might help himself to a slice or six.

  ‘Pizza delivery!’ Ben returned with the large cardboard box of sustenance, untouched by dusty Tom hands, and Mollie was quick to drag a few chairs over, using one as a makeshift table.

  ‘My hero.’ She certainly seemed to have worked up an appetite to rival his as she helped herself to a large slice of pepperoni.

  Normally if he was trying to impress a girl dinner would be gourmet and somewhere more salubrious than a dusty room above The Shed, but Mollie had already seen past the flashy facade and he didn’t feel as though he had to pretend he wasn’t an eating-pizza-with-your-bare-hands kind of guy. He didn’t have to impress her because she already knew who he was and was comfortable with him enough to confide in. It was a relief being in her company and taking time out from being Ben the surgeon, or Ben the carer, to simply be Ben for a while. That seemed to be enough for her and there were very few people in his life who accepted him for who he was rather than what he could do for them. It meant a lot to him.

  ‘So you have some big decisions to make in the not-too-distant future?’ It made a change to talk about someone else’s family problems other than his own, even if there was a small chance they might overlap somewhere along the line. This dance competition appeared to fall somewhere in between that work and personal divide, as they’d already discovered. With their time so tightly split between family and career, finding time out for themselves was never going to be easy.

  He didn’t envy Mollie’s situation with her sister, but he did wonder what it would be like to have that chance to opt out without his conscience suffering in the process. If he’d had a brother, or family of any sort who’d shown an interest, it wouldn’t have had to be all or nothing—living with Ben or a nursing home. Not that he could blame Mollie for choosing life when he’d waved goodbye to his in order to look after his grandfather.

  ‘The idea of taking that final step and actually moving out is terrifying. I’m worried about leaving Talia to look after a baby and our mum. Yet, that one-bedroom flat was so quiet...’ She paused, slice of pizza halfway to her mouth, staring off into a world where there were probably no crying babies or chop saws buzzing and disturbing the peace.

  ‘You have to do it.’ Ben chomped down on the gooey cheese-covered crust without an ounce of remorse. It wasn’t very often he got the opportunity to indulge his naughty side and he was enjoying encouraging Mollie to do the same on a much grander scale. She deserved to do something for herself and get out while she still could when Ben was sure she’d given so much to those around her.

  ‘Yeah?’ Her eyes sparkled with that meagre encouragement to give into temptation and it was easy to get caught up in her excitement.

  ‘How often do you do something without thinking about how it’ll impact on everyone else?’ If she was anything like him the answer would be never and being that altruistic could often be a lonely place.

  ‘Uh...’ The fact that she even had to think about it said it all and Ben wondered if anyone appreciated the sacrifices she’d probably made along the way.

  ‘Ben! Help!’ The urgent yell coming up from the shop floor below cut through his daydream and the blaring siren of alarm immediately had him on his feet, reacting as he’d been trained to do in an emergency. Mollie was close behind him, her medical instinct to help just as strong as his.

  Tom, who’d been cutting lengths of wood on the mitre saw the last time he’d seen him, was now slumped on the floor, all colour gone from his usually ruddy cheeks. He was holding up his left hand, blood running down his arm and pooling in the sawdust on the floor. It didn’t take a medical expert to put two and two together and figure out what had happened. The combination of power tools and fragile body parts always came with a risk.

  He slammed off the power to the machine to prevent any more accidents before he checked to see how much damage Tom had done to himself.

  ‘Stay with me.’ Ben knelt by the chair, clicking his fingers to keep Tom’s attention. It was vital to establish the extent of the injuries before the shock of the accident or excessive loss of blood caused him to lose consciousness.

  ‘It’s my own stupid fault. I remembered to put my safety goggles on to protect my eyes but thought it was a good idea to stick my hand in the saw instead of the wood. Health and safety will have a field day with that one.’ His breathing was becoming more measured now as the pain probably kicked in and he tried to push through it.

  ‘Accidents happen. That’s why we’ve got a first-aid kit on the shop floor. As you very well know, sharp blades and old men are an insurance nightmare.’ Ben prised the good hand away from the one that was profusely bleeding to investigate the injury. The nod to the green box on the back wall was all it took for Mollie to swing into action and start unpacking all of the first-aid supplies they were going to need to patch Tom up so they could get him to hospital as soon as possible.

  Ben wiped away as much blood as he could to find the source of the bleeding and stop it. If Tom had hit an artery they had no time to lose in case he bled out. It was every wood shop nightmare come true but Ben was just glad they’d been on site to help. It didn’t bear thinking about if Tom had been here alone. From now on he was going to insist they introduce a new rule so no one was ever here on their own so they could avoid risking a repeat with even more serious consequences.

  As expected, the cut was deep. His hand sliced almost to the bone. Even if they were able to save his fingers, it was most likely he’d severed tendons. If that connection between muscle and bone was severed he could still lose the use of his hand. To a hard-working man such as Tom, that would be the end of his world, and those he helped on a daily basis.

  The rubber-band-like tension in the flexor tendons, which were close to the surface of the skin, often needed surgical repair in such instances.

  Ben didn’t keep a tendon hammer on standby and had to improvise with his own fingernail to test the sensation in Tom’s fingertips. ‘Can you feel that?’

  There was no reaction as Ben pressed hard and with the nerves in the fingers so close to the tendons it was possible the wound might have damaged them, as well. If blood vessels had been cut Tom would lose blood supply to his fingers, too. He was going to need surgery.

  ‘I’m not gonna lose the hand, am I, Doc?’

  ‘You have some tendon damage. The quicker we can get you to hospital, the better you’ll recover.’ He helped Tom elevate the hand above his heart so gravity would help minimise the blood flow as the heart pumped up towards the injury. Once the bleeding had slowed a little, he covered the wound with gauze and wrapped the hand tightly with a clean bandage from the kit.

  ‘I’m already speaking with the paramedics, Tom. They’ll be here soon.’ Mollie tucked her phone under her chin to relay information to the dispatcher about his condition, letting them know he was still conscious and breathing on his own. With such significant blood-loss there was always a risk of the patient going into shock. The interruption of normal blood flow cutting off oxygen and nutrients to cells could lead to organ damage or even death if left untreated and it was helpful to have another trained professional who could keep a check on the possibility. She wrestled the goggles off his head and checked his pupils for signs of dilation, so Ben was free to focus on stemming the bleeding.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ It seemed an absurd question to ask a man who’d almost sliced off his own hand but it was necessary to continue the evaluation on his condition until help arrived. A person in shock could deteriorate quickly and the longer treatment took to establish, the greater risk of permanent damage or even death.

&nbs
p; ‘Dizzy. The room’s spinning.’

  Mollie unfolded the foil blanket from the first-aid kit to wrap around him and maintain his body temperature before she checked his pulse and provided an update over the phone. The blood pressure was a little lower than Ben would prefer but it was only to be expected in the circumstances.

  Tom closed his eyes as he veered on the brink of consciousness. He’d lost a lot of blood.

  ‘Stay with us, mate.’

  Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance and Ben slapped Tom gently around the cheeks, trying to keep him awake so they could get him into the ambulance as soon as possible. This was a time-sensitive injury and the extent to which he recovered use of his hand would depend on how quickly they could get him into Theatre to operate and repair the damage.

  Mollie ran to the door to wave the paramedics in the right direction and relayed an update on their patient’s condition the second they stepped through the shop doorway. Once they’d checked his obs for themselves again and established it was safe to move him, they transferred him to the back of the ambulance.

  ‘You should go with him.’ Mollie echoed Ben’s own sentiment that he really ought to ride with him and be there for the handover to the ER consultant, but it wasn’t as simple as that.

  ‘I need to lock up.’ He was stretched in too many directions by his responsibilities and it was only in times of crisis he realised how little give there was left in him. In making a decision to go with his patient in his professional capacity, he was letting so many other people down. Including Mollie, who hadn’t signed on for anything other than helping charity and she’d even disputed that at one point.

  ‘Where are your keys? I’ll lock up. Don’t worry I’ve got everything in hand.’

  ‘Upstairs in my jacket pocket. Thanks, Mollie.’ The paramedic closed one of the ambulance doors so for one brief moment the image of Mollie standing waving him off was framed perfectly in the other. It was a beautiful sight, which he was sure would remain with him for a long time. He’d find some way to make this up to her, but until their next meet he was determined to make the most of the help and try not to worry about anything except Tom tonight.

  It was only when they were at the hospital he realised he’d left his car and house keys behind, along with his phone, and he was stranded here for the time being. Not easy when he knew tendon repair wasn’t usually regarded as emergency surgery and the longer his friend had to wait, the more scarring could develop on the ends of the severed tendons and reduce the range of hand movement in the future. That would be a devastating blow to Tom and everyone who benefited from his leadership at The Shed.

  Although he’d handed over Tom’s care to the emergency department’s consultant, who in turn had referred him to a hand surgeon, Ben was unwilling to leave recovery to chance and put in a call of his own. Derek Hancock was a well-respected expert in that field who’d been his mentor during the early years of his experience as a general surgeon, and agreed to come in and perform the surgery straight away as a favour. On condition Ben would assist. He wasn’t about to say no when it gave him a chance to see for himself exactly how successful Tom’s surgery would go.

  He’d already scrubbed in when Derek arrived, looking very apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, Ben, I’ve been called to an emergency. A seven-year-old boy is on his way in after a car accident. He’s lost the fingers on his right hand and I’m sorry but that has to take priority over this case.’

  ‘I understand. We’ll have to postpone.’ He was gutted that Tom was going to have to wait after all and that extra time could put him at risk, but he knew each surgery was judged on a case-by-case basis.

  ‘Not necessarily. You have experience and you’re an excellent surgeon. After all, you learned from the best.’

  ‘You want me to do this?’ Ben hadn’t considered that option because Tom was a friend. Then again, as far as anyone knew he’d simply accompanied this patient en route to the hospital and that omission of information was better than waiting until another surgeon was available.

  ‘You don’t have to but you’ve got the green light to go ahead. Listen, I’ll have to run. Let me know how it goes.’ Derek left him to make the decision for himself but he was right, Ben could do this and he would, for Tom.

  * * *

  It wasn’t a lengthy procedure but Ben was feeling the pressure as he extended the wound across Tom’s fingers so he could locate the damaged tendons. He desperately wanted to do the best for Tom but hoped their relationship wasn’t clouding the judgement of his own abilities. When the doubt began to manifest in beads of sweat forming on his brow he thought of Mollie and the trust she’d put in him over these past days. She’d obviously had a rough time but she’d been confident in him as a medical professional, and as a partner, to do the right thing by her. That faith was enough for him to set aside any second thoughts and focus on fixing the mess Tom had got himself into. There was no other option than for this operation to be a success when too many people were relying on it.

  With the tourniquet tied around Tom’s arm to temporarily cut off the blood supply, Ben was able to locate the ends of the severed tendons and bring them together. It was a delicate process to loop small sutures around the tendons and pull them together without bunching, which could cause stiffening in the fingers, but he remained mindful of how each stitch could impact on the future quality of his patient’s life. He made sure there was adequate tension in the repair before he closed the wound with considerable relief. It would still take some time to heal and recover normal function but he was satisfied he’d done everything possible to enable that process.

  Even as he came to the end of a trying night, one that wouldn’t end until he found some way of getting home, his thoughts were still with Mollie and how much he really wished he were going back home to her.

  * * *

  Rather than wait for Ben’s return, Mollie headed back into the street where the bustling sounds of the London traffic drowned out the thoughts in her head. Primarily, she’d been worried about Tom’s injury, but the constant pull of attraction between her and Ben was insisting she stopped ignoring it.

  It was the past holding her back from acting on her feelings, but she couldn’t seem to stay away from him either. She was torn between her head and her heart, and all those other body parts that were telling her to go for it. This sexual awakening he’d created was something she was curious to explore but it also made her terrified at the same time. Even her unhappily single sub-conscience was demanding to know what she was going to do about the significance of that kiss they’d shared.

  The simple answer to that was nothing for now, except fulfil the promises she had made to him. When she’d trekked back up to the eerily silent rehearsal space upstairs to retrieve their belongings she’d had to search his jacket pocket for the keys needed to secure the room. It was then she’d realised his car key was still hanging on the bunch and it wasn’t immediately obvious how he was going to get back to his apartment when his car was parked at the back of the building.

  Not only that, the unexpected weight of his blazer had also revealed he’d left his phone behind, too. She’d pulled the shutters down on the shop front while debating whether she should make her way to the hospital to return his belongings, but figured he was resourceful enough to make his way home somehow. That didn’t stop her hopping onto the train in the direction of his house rather than her own.

  ‘Hello,’ she called softly as she let herself into the apartment in case Hugh was still up and thought she was an intruder.

  There was no answer and a note from Amy left on the coffee table, presumably for Ben, confirmed his grandfather was fast asleep in bed. She folded Ben’s jacket over the arm of the nearest chair and set his keys next to the note so he’d see them when he came in.

  It hadn’t been her intention to stay but, knowing Hugh was here alone and Ben had no way of getting into
the apartment without disturbing him, she didn’t have much of a choice. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned. Her clothes were stained with Tom’s blood and she didn’t feel comfortable sitting here all night with that knowledge. Neither did she want to upset her mother or Talia by turning up looking like a victim from a horror film.

  She eyed up the washer and drier and wondered if she would be taking liberties by throwing her clothes in the wash. It was one thing agreeing to let her lock up The Shed for Ben, but he hadn’t handed his keys over so she could make herself at home in his apartment.

  If she was quick he would never have to know and chances were he wouldn’t be home this side of dawn. Tom was his friend and Ben wasn’t the sort of man who would abandon him in his hour of need.

  She slipped into the bathroom and closed the door as quietly as she could behind her, partly because she didn’t want to disturb Hugh wherever he was in the house but also because this felt a lot like trespassing.

  The bathroom was littered with Ben’s grooming products and she couldn’t resist lifting the bottle of aftershave perched on the shelf. As she closed her eyes and inhaled the familiar scent it brought back memories of every second she’d spent in his arms, pressed up against him, both on and off the dance floor. The second she began to strip off she was reminded why she’d no business daydreaming that something could happen between them.

  The ugly puckered scars criss-crossing her body had been incorporated into her colourful tattoo designs but she knew they were there and that was enough reason for her to keep herself hidden. They were a permanent reminder of what happened when she made stupid choices in life. Even though her family didn’t have the same physical markings from the aftermath of the crash, the damage she’d caused was blatantly obvious. Now Talia was serious about settling down and making a home with Mum and the baby, she wasn’t about to do something else stupid to spoil that like falling for a man with as much personal baggage as she had. She liked Ben and she was fond of Hugh, but she had too much going on in her life right now to commit to anything else.