‘I do.’ Ben stood his ground. ‘If anyone is injured, go over to the desk and register so you can be treated. The rest of you can leave. Now.’
There was a lot of mumbling but the gangs broke up. Two of the boys presented themselves at the reception desk while the others left. Ben took their case notes from the receptionist.
‘We’ll see this pair straight away. The sooner we get rid of them, the better.’
He ushered the first boy into a cubicle and asked Jason to look after the second. ‘OK, so tell me what happened.’
‘Someone hit me with a bottle.’ The youth turned so that Ben could see the gash running across the back of his scalp. It was bleeding profusely and Ben winced.
‘That looks nasty.’ He checked the boy’s notes. ‘OK, Simon, I’m going to have to check that there’s no fragments of glass in it. It could sting a bit so grit your teeth, son.’
He used a magnifying glass to examine the cut and discovered that there were several splinters embedded in the boy’s scalp. ‘Just as I thought—there’s glass in it. I’ll give you something to ease the pain before I get it out.’
Ben administered a shot of local anaesthetic then, using forceps, managed to extract the glass. Simon looked decidedly green by the time he’d finished and Ben patted him on the shoulder. ‘It won’t be long now. Just a few stitches and that will be it.’ Picking up the needle, he carried on talking, hoping to distract the boy while he got the job done. ‘What started this ruckus?’
‘One of the other lads said I was chatting up his girlfriend. We’d gone to a club to celebrate finishing our exams, you see, and that’s where it all kicked off. He went absolutely ape, wouldn’t listen to a word I said when I tried to explain that all I’d done was apologise for bumping into her. I mean, I wouldn’t chat her up even if I was desperate. She’s a real slapper!’
‘I hope you didn’t tell him that.’ Ben sighed when Simon flushed. ‘Not the most diplomatic thing to say, was it?’
‘S’ppose not.’
Simon seemed disinclined to say anything else so Ben finished suturing the cut, then ran through the usual instructions about keeping the wound dry and making sure that Simon sought medical help if he felt dizzy or started vomiting. Although it was only a scalp wound, there was a faint chance that the blow could cause Simon mild concussion and Ben wanted to be sure he knew what to do. Jason had finished attending to Simon’s friend and the two boys left together, Ben hoping sincerely that they would have the sense to go straight home. To his mind they’d had enough excitement for one evening.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he heard someone shouting outside the building. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the other boys must have been waiting for Simon and his friend to reappear. Ben ran to the exit, his temper spiralling when he saw two boys scuffling on the ground. One was Simon and the other was the older youth who’d confronted him earlier.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Ben shouted, grabbing hold of the youth’s arm as he went to punch Simon. ‘Stop this right now.’
He managed to separate the pair, feeling relieved when a couple of security guards came and took charge. He would leave it to them to decide what to do with the boys. He headed back inside and was just opening the swing door when he heard someone shout and the next moment he felt something punch him hard in his side.
Ben stared in disbelief at the knife that was sticking out of his body. The strange thing was that he didn’t feel any pain, just a sort of warmth that seemed to start in the centre of his chest and spread outwards. He crumpled to the floor and his last thought before he slid into unconsciousness was of Zoë. He loved her so much, so very, very much…
Zoë has just turned off her bedside lamp when she heard someone knock on the front door of the B&B. The baby had shifted position during the day and was pressing on her bladder so she’d been up and down to the bathroom umpteen times. Picking up her alarm clock, she peered at the dial. 2 a.m.! Who on earth could be making such a racket at this hour?
She settled down to sleep but she’d only just closed her eyes when someone knocked on her bedroom door. She hastily got out of bed, her eyes widening when she discovered Sam Kearney and her landlady standing outside.
‘This gentleman says that you know him, Dr Frost,’ her landlady announced, obviously unhappy about being woken at such an hour.
‘Yes, I do. Dr Kearney and I work together at the hospital.’ She turned to Sam, her heart skipping a beat when she saw how grave he looked. ‘What is it, Sam? Why have you come here?’
‘I’ve some bad news for you, Zoë.’ Sam took her arm and steered her back into the room. He sat her on the bed and took hold of her hand. ‘It’s Ben. I’m afraid he’s been hurt, badly hurt.’
‘Hurt? But how? He was working tonight…’ She tailed off, unable to muster her thoughts into any order. Sam squeezed her fingers.
‘There was an incident outside ED—a couple of youths were fighting. Ben went out to break it up and was on his way back into the building when he was stabbed.’
‘Stabbed,’ she echoed.
‘Yes. It’s bad too, Zoë. The surgeons are working on him now, but it’s touch and go whether he’ll make it.’ Sam squeezed her hand again, his face filled with compassion. ‘I thought you’d want to know.’
‘I need to be there. I need to be with Ben, he needs me!’ She jumped to her feet and felt the room whirl. Taking a deep breath, she forced the dizziness away. ‘I’ll get dressed. You’ll give me a lift to the hospital, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will. But there’s really nothing you can do, Zoë. Ben could be in Theatre for hours…’
‘It doesn’t matter. I want to be there when he wakes up.’
Zoë could tell from the look on Sam’s face that he wasn’t sure if Ben would wake up but she didn’t dwell on the thought. As soon as Sam left, she dragged on some clothes and grabbed her bag. Her landlady saw her out, murmuring sympathetically that she hoped Dr Frost’s friend would be all right.
Zoë hoped so too, but she had no idea what was going to happen, if Ben would survive…A wave of panic gripped her but she refused to fall apart when Ben needed her. She had to be strong for his sake, had to believe that he would pull through. He had to! She couldn’t manage without him.
In that second she realised how stupid she’d been these last few months, denying herself precious time she could have spent with him. She’d got it wrong, very wrong. It wasn’t the future that mattered but the present. If he survived, she would tell him how sorry she was and that from now on she wouldn’t waste another second.
She took a deep breath. She would also tell Ben how much she loved him and needed him…if it wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘AS YOU can see, the knife entered the body just here.’
Zoë nodded as Jack Devine, Chief of Surgery, pointed to the image that was being displayed on the screen. It was one of a series of X-rays that had been taken before Ben had undergone surgery and if it was anything to go by, she was dreading seeing the rest. They would prove just how serious his injuries were.
‘It was a standard kitchen knife with a six-inch blade. It was used with some force because it was buried up to the hilt. Needless to say, it penetrated all the soft tissue in that area.’
Jack Devine’s tone was emotionless. Did he have any idea how hard it was to listen to these details when they concerned the man she loved? Zoë wondered. She shot a glance at the consultant’s face but it gave nothing away, and maybe that was a good thing. It would have been so much worse if the surgeon had given the impression that this was a hopeless case.
‘How badly damaged was his right kidney?’ she asked, doing her best to follow the consultant’s example.
‘You can see from this…’ Jack pointed to the next image ‘…that the knife entered the kidney at a point roughly two-thirds of the way down. Fortunately, it missed the artery but there was extensive bleeding. Apart from b
lood loss and shock, my biggest concern now is infection. With a penetrating injury such as this, it’s a major consideration.’
‘There was no damage to the liver?’ Zoë asked, hiding her shudder.
‘No, but Ben suffered a pneumothorax which was dealt with by the staff in ED before he went to Theatre.’ Jack flicked a switch and the screen went dark. ‘It would be wrong to raise your hopes, Dr Frost. The next twenty-four hours are critical.’
‘I understand. Thank you.’
Zoë went back to the waiting room after the consultant left. There was nobody else there and it was a relief to have the place to herself. She knew that Ben had been given the very best of care. Jack Devine might be a cold fish, but he was a brilliant surgeon—there was nobody better, in fact. Now it was up to Ben himself to fight back.
She sat down, willing the time to pass swiftly. Every extra hour that Ben survived increased his chances, although it was ironic that she wanted the time to fly just when she’d decided to live every second to the full. When a nurse popped her head round the door to tell her that Ben was back from Recovery and she could see him, Zoë leapt to her feet. If she could make him understand that she was there, she was sure it would help.
He was in the bed nearest to the nursing station, always a bad sign as the sickest patients were placed there. Even though Zoë had been in ICU umpteen times in the past, she couldn’t help feeling nervous as she approached the bed. All the tubes and machinery, the wires and the bottles were there for one purpose, to keep Ben alive, but it was distressing to see them and to see Ben lying so still in the bed.
‘Sit down.’ The nurse—Paula, according to her name tag—placed a chair beside the bed and Zoë sat. ‘We’re keeping him sedated for now to help ease the shock to his system so he won’t know you’re here, but if it helps you to talk to him, nobody can hear you.’
‘Thank you,’ Zoë whispered. She leant over the bed after the nurse left, studying the familiar contours of Ben’s face. She knew every line as well as she knew the lines on her own face, she marvelled. Even while she’d been pushing him away, her heart had been storing up the details against a rainy day when she might need them. Please, heaven, that day hadn’t arrived.
Regret washed over her as she covered his hand with hers. She had wasted so much precious time. Now all she could do was pray that she would be given the chance to make up for it.
Ben knew that his throat was as dry as dust but it hurt when he tried to swallow. He groaned, wondering why he felt so awful. His head was thumping and there was a throbbing ache in his side that felt as though he’d been kicked by a donkey. Had he been riding the donkeys on the beach and fallen off? If so, his mother would give him gyp!
‘Ben, can you hear me?’
A female voice penetrated his consciousness and he frowned. It didn’t sound like his mum’s voice yet it was familiar. He opened his eyes a crack, saw a face, tried to bring it into focus, and gave up. It was just too difficult.
The next time he woke, he felt a little better. Although his throat still hurt, there was a bit of saliva in his mouth. His side wasn’t as painful either, or his head. Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling, trying to get his bearings. He knew he wasn’t in his own bed but he couldn’t decide where he was instead. Turning his head, he felt his eyes widen with shock when he saw all the machinery. He was in ICU but what the heck was he doing here?
‘Hey, you. Decided to come back to the land of the living, have you?’
The same voice he’d heard before but this time he recognised it immediately. His heart tried to leap right out of his chest when he saw Zoë. She smiled at him, her face lighting up in a way he had longed to see it do and he had to swallow the lump that came to his throat. Was he dreaming again or was this real? Was Zoë really looking at him with her heart in her eyes?
‘Zoë,’ he croaked like a bullfrog, ruining the tender moment.
‘That’s me.’ She kissed him ever so lightly on the lips and he groaned in disgust. He deserved better than that miserable little effort!
‘Did I hurt you?’ she said anxiously, pulling back.
‘No. Jus…wan…be’er…kiss,’ he muttered.
‘Oh, I see!’ She leant over him again and this time her lips settled more firmly onto his. In fact, they settled there as though they would never leave and Ben sighed in contentment. Forget his headache and his aching side—he could put up with those. He could put up with anything if it meant Zoë was going to keep on kissing him!
She drew back reluctantly. ‘I’ve been so worried, darling. I thought I was going to lose you.’
‘What happened?’ Ben asked, reaching for her hand and frowning in frustration when he discovered that his own hand was tethered to the bed by all the wires.
‘You broke up a fight outside ED and got hurt.’ She bit her lip and he could tell that tears were only a blink away. ‘You were stabbed, Ben.’
‘Ah! That’s why my side hurts,’ he murmured, hating to see her looking so upset. ‘I haven’t been kicked by a donkey.’
Zoë gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Trust you to come up with the most unlikely scenario! I mean, how many donkeys do you encounter on an average day?’
‘Not that many, but it’s always possible that these things can happen.’ He looked steadily back at her, hoping he wasn’t imagining this too. He didn’t think he could bear it if she didn’t feel the way he thought she did. ‘Anything’s possible, Zoë. Anything at all.’
‘You’re right. It is.’
She kissed him again, her lips clinging to his in a way that made him feel deliriously happy. Either it was all the drugs that had been pumped into his system, or Zoë was demonstrating that she really did love him. His eyes held hers fast when she drew back because he couldn’t bear the tension a moment longer.
‘Do you love me, Zoë?’
‘Of course I do.’ She brushed his mouth with her fingertips. ‘I’ve always loved you. I was just too much of a coward to face up to my feelings in the past.’
‘And lately?’ he asked because he desperately needed to know. ‘Why were you so determined to hide them since you came back?’
‘Because I thought you no longer loved me.’ She smoothed back his hair. ‘I wouldn’t blame you, either. I hurt you so much when I left you and I shall always regret that. I promised myself that I would never hurt you again and that’s why I’ve kept you at arm’s length recently, or tried to.’ She smiled at him. ‘I did have a few lapses, if you recall.’
Ben recalled them all right—in glorious detail. However, before he could say anything a nurse appeared.
‘You’re awake, are you? Good.’ She turned to Zoë. ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside, Dr Frost. Mr Devine will want to see him. I’ll call you back in once he’s finished.’
Ben could barely hide his frustration as Zoë left. Talk about bad timing! It was an effort to respond politely to the nurse’s questions as she checked his obs. She smiled as she put the cap back on her pen.
‘Don’t worry, she’ll be back. She’s spent the past two days at your bedside so I doubt she’s going to do a runner now.’
‘Two days!’ Ben gulped, no easy feat when his throat was so swollen. ‘Is that how long I’ve been unconscious?’
‘Yes. You were very poorly. Mr Devine did a first-rate job on you. You might not be here if it weren’t for his skill.’
‘I see,’ Ben said soberly, realising how lucky he’d been. He could vaguely remember feeling something punch him in the side but the rest was blank.
He closed his eyes after the nurse left, trying to come to terms with the fact that he’d come so close to dying. He wouldn’t have known anything about it, but Zoë would. Zoë would have had to deal with the aftermath and the thought of her suffering was far worse than the thought of his demise. All of a sudden he understood why she had taken the stance she had since she’d come back to Dalverston. She had been trying to protect him. She’d cared less about herself than she had about him
and it made him feel very humble.
In that second he realised that he needed to tell her how he felt, that he loved her with all his heart. He’d been afraid to do it before but not any more. What scared him now was the thought of not telling her. Living out the rest of his life without her didn’t bear thinking about.
Ben was moved out of ICU the following day and placed in a side room off Men’s Surgical. Zoë popped in several times but each time there was someone else with him. Everyone in the hospital knew Ben so he had a constant stream of visitors.
Whether it was the aftermath of what had happened, Zoë felt exhausted. Although she longed to be with Ben, she needed to go home and rest. Instead of going to the B&B, though, she went to the apartment and slept the clock round, curled up in Ben’s bed. She felt much better the next morning, but she knew that she couldn’t keep pushing herself the way she’d been doing. She needed to rest more for the baby’s sake and the only way to do that was by giving up work.
There were the usual formalities to complete so she didn’t have time to visit Ben before her shift started. Typically, it was one of those days when everything seemed to take twice as long as usual. When lunchtime arrived she still hadn’t managed to see Ben and there was no chance of her going then because there’d been an RTA in the town centre.
It was almost four p.m. before she got away. As she hurried to the lift, she could only guess what Ben must be thinking. She smiled as she pressed the button for the third floor. At least she was on her way to see him now and that was the main thing.
Ben had lost count of the number of people who had been to visit him. Although he appreciated their kindness, he couldn’t help wishing that he had a few minutes to himself. Zoë had popped in several times the previous day but each time there’d been someone with him and he hadn’t had chance to talk to her on his own. The fact that she hadn’t been to see him at all that day gave him cold chills. Had he been wrong to think they could finally sort out the mess they’d made of everything?
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