by A. E. Radley
“But why?” Katie pressed.
“Because you needed someone,” Verity said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Katie felt her eyes well up with up unshed tears. People didn’t come and help her just because. They did it because they wanted something or because they felt obligated to.
Verity was looking at her with such confusion and honesty that it made Katie’s heart clench. Verity wasn’t there for any reason other than because she felt Katie needed someone.
The fact that Katie was thirty-two and had only just experienced such kindness made her want to cry.
“I needed to be sure that your bike was gone,” Verity said, a lopsided grin on her face. “I’m going to pressure you into landscaping your half of the garden while the medication is still strong.”
Katie smiled, still trying to keep the tears at bay but unable to not chuckle.
“I’m thinking a water fountain, something tasteful, of course. And I must insist on a raised flowerbed or two.” Verity picked up her handbag and looped it over her arm. “Can I get you a coffee?”
Katie nodded. “Flat white, please.”
“Marvellous. I’ll be back in a few.” Verity plucked a couple of tissues from the box on the bedside table and dropped them onto the bed, beside Katie’s hand. She turned on her heel and left without another word.
Katie picked up the tissue and dabbed at her eyes.
16
Needs a Little Help
Verity walked away from Katie’s hospital room and paused at the end of the corridor. Katie Ross was an enigma. While their own interactions had often been fraught, she knew Katie was a happy sort of person. She seemed chipper and chatty. She’d caught sight of her talking pleasantly with Callum and with the waitress at Whitely’s.
And yet there was no one she wanted to call. No family, no friends. It seemed odd that someone so outgoing and young would be so alone in the world.
Verity wanted to know her story, to find out why she had suddenly appeared out of the blue. Where had she been before? Why did she leave? Did she truly have no friends, or were they all simply too far away?
Not that it was any of her business.
She was nothing to Katie, just the busybody who lived upstairs, who had inserted herself into the situation.
She continued towards the coffee shop. It was a large chain that had set up in the hospital building, selling their much-needed wares to the staff, patients, and visitors, and paying a little back to the hospital in return. Everyone was a winner.
It was certainly better than Verity’s previous experience of a hospital when it had just been a row of machines.
She ordered a flat white for Katie and a latte for herself. She waited for the barista to make them and wondered what she’d find when she returned to the room. Katie had obviously been near to tears, and Verity wasn’t sure she knew how to deal with that.
Her joke had cleared the air a little, but she still assumed that Katie would need a while to get herself together. Verity didn’t want to embarrass her; they weren’t that close after all.
She could see a pride and a determination in Katie’s eyes that told her that any offer of help would be turned down and that she would face an uphill battle if she wanted to stay and be of any assistance.
She wasn’t sure why she wanted to stay, but she did. There was something about Katie, her bruised face and her big, questioning eyes, that made Verity want to help.
She took the two hot drinks and walked back to the room, hoping that Katie would be okay when she returned.
Verity couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure the young woman must be under. The shock of the attack, the trauma of the injuries and subsequent surgery, the worry about the future. It was no wonder she was in tears.
When entered the room, the hospital version of breakfast had been delivered. Katie was attempting to feed herself with limited success.
Verity put the drinks down.
“Would you like some help?” she offered, expecting them to resume their actions from the night before.
Katie shot her a dark look.
Okay, clearly we’re not doing that again, Verity thought to herself.
She took her seat, unfolded her newspaper, and sipped at her drink. Her eyes strained upwards to see Katie; she was struggling to hold the piece of toast in her hand. Verity could see scrapes and cuts that were obviously painful, more so when the skin on her palm moved.
She wanted to help, but Katie was radiating a ‘don’t look, don’t mention it’ energy that kept Verity at bay.
After a few moments, she couldn’t take watching her struggle anymore. She stood and muttered something about using the bathroom. She left the room and leaned on the wall outside.
“Oh, I was looking for you,” a nurse said, approaching her with a friendly smile.
“Hello, just giving her a little privacy,” Verity replied. She looked at the nurse’s name badge; it was Sue from the night before.
“The doctor is considering discharging her later this afternoon. Ideally there would be someone with her in case she needs anything for the first day or so…” Sue trailed off meaningfully.
“Well, I could,” Verity allowed. “But I really don’t know if she’d want me to. We don’t know each other that well. And she seems extremely independent.”
Sue nodded. “I noticed.”
The silence dragged on between them. Verity knew the tactic well; she’d employed it before in situations when she wanted to get her way: present someone with the one possible option and then silently look at them and wait for them to agree to it.
Sue was clearly a master, looking at Verity with a passive expression, just waiting for her to say yes.
“I’ll talk to her,” Verity agreed, finally.
“Great,” Sue said. “There’s little we can do for her here. She needs lots of rest and to keep up with the course of painkillers. She’ll bounce back very quickly; the surgery was relatively minor. She was very lucky.”
“She’s stubborn,” Verity said. “Wouldn’t let something like this slow her down, I’m sure.”
“No matter how stubborn they are, they all need a little help,” Sue said. “Anyway, I’ll let the doctor know that you’re willing to help out. He’ll probably talk to you both later, just in case she’s still a little hazy with the medicine.”
Sue walked away, and Verity realised she was now in even deeper. And she was sure Katie wouldn’t like that. She sucked in a breath and looked at the door to Katie’s room.
If she was going to adequately help her, she needed to be no-nonsense. She knew from bitter experience how difficult it was to get a stubborn patient to admit to, and accept, assistance.
She re-entered the room. Katie had given up on breakfast and looked thoroughly dejected. Verity swallowed down any nerves and sat on the edge of the bed. She pulled the table trolley close and picked up some of the food and wordlessly fed Katie.
Katie resisted for a few seconds, but a raised eyebrow and a pointed look told her that Verity wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“You’ll be able to go home later this afternoon, as long as you promise to rest and are willing to accept some assistance. From me.”
Katie’s eyes widened. She chewed a little quicker, obviously keen to get the food down so she could decline of the offer.
“The hospital needs this bed, but they won’t let you go unless they know you have assistance at home,” Verity lied, ready with another mouthful the second Katie swallowed. She silenced Katie with more food. “If you want to go home, and I’m sure you do, then you need to agree to let me help you. For a short while, at least.”
She waited, allowing Katie time to chew and swallow her food.
“I… want to go home,” Katie admitted.
“Wonderful, then that’s decided.”
Verity felt bad about lying to Katie. She was sure the hospital would release her whether Verity had agreed to look after her or not. Hosp
itals were overcrowded, and she knew they believed in forcing people to fend for themselves rather than coddling them.
But Verity was not going to sit upstairs and wonder if her downstairs neighbour had starved to death. It was a little dishonest, but for all the right reasons.
She picked up the flat white and placed it on the table for Katie. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in no time,” she promised.
17
Bonding Over Soup
Katie struggled the small distance from the wheelchair to Verity’s car, all the while wondering how she didn’t know that Verity had a car. She supposed there were a lot of things about the woman she didn’t know.
Like why she was giving up her free time to babysit her downstairs neighbour.
Katie didn’t like the idea that Verity would be watching over her, but she liked the idea of being stuck in the hospital for a moment longer even less. Everyone at the hospital had been lovely, but Katie had no desire to be there any longer than she had to be.
Verity thanked the hospital porter who had kindly wheeled Katie out to the pickup zone. He waved goodbye to Katie, wished her luck, and left.
Katie held a breath, the pain at sitting upright hitting her like a brick. Every time she thought she was feeling better and healing, she moved in a new way and realised that she had indeed been stabbed and everything hurt. A lot.
Verity regarded her with a concerned expression.
“I’m fine,” Katie promised before Verity had a chance to speak.
Verity looked at her in a manner that suggested she didn’t believe a single word. Thankfully, she didn’t argue. She simply closed the passenger door and walked around the vehicle to get into the driver’s seat.
Katie looked around the leather interior of the Audi. It was nice, showroom nice. Katie couldn’t remember seeing it on the street anywhere, nor could she remember seeing Verity drive anywhere. She always seemed to be on foot.
“Nice car,” Katie commented when Verity got in.
“Thank you. It spends most of its time at my niece’s house. She has a large driveway, and I only use it for long journeys. Well, I did.” Verity put her seatbelt on.
Katie took a deep breath and carefully did the same.
“But you’re a lady of leisure now,” Katie said. “Surely, you have all the time in the world to go on long journeys?”
Verity made a sound of agreement but said nothing else. Katie suspected there was a story there, but that was for another time. A time when pain medication wasn’t causing her to feel quite so muddled.
They drove back to the house in silence. What would have taken Katie ten minutes on her bike actually took forty minutes due to the traffic. Living close to the high street and the Underground station had its benefits, but it also meant a lot of traffic.
Katie wondered what had happened to her bike. Was it currently for sale? Stripped for parts? Had someone had their fun with it and then dumped it in a canal somewhere?
Some couriers were targeted by organised gangs who were aware of the value of a bike, but sometimes it was just young, bored troublemakers with no empathy for a fellow human being.
She had to wonder if she had been attacked for a reason. Was someone desperate to make some money out of her bike? Or were they just young and stupid? Was her attack nothing more than a spur-of-the-moment decision for a lark and some bragging rights?
“Here we are, finally,” Verity said.
Katie looked up, surprised that they had arrived at the house without her noticing. She’d been in her own world for a while. She unfastened the seatbelt and reached for the door handle.
Verity came around the car and stood before her, hand outstretched, palm up.
Katie didn’t think that would help much. She could do it, with some effort. It was the accompanying pain that she was more concerned about. She took Verity’s hand and gently pulled herself out of the car. She winced, and then gasped at the pain that flashed through her wound.
Verity was by her side, steadying her.
Katie’s mind was already on the big step up to the vestibule. That was going to be a challenge.
“Maybe we should walk around the back?” Verity suggested as if reading her mind. “Better to take the back door than struggle with the step.”
“Around the back?” Katie asked in confusion.
The house was the last in the row; her bedroom wall was the end of the house, and beyond that was the street. The back garden had a high wall.
“Yes, there’s a path.” Verity gestured to her half of the garden.
Katie squinted. In between the bush and a tree was a gap that had been trimmed into an archway. Katie had never thought of it before, but now that she looked she realised there was a path down there.
They walked arm in arm across the stepping stones and under the canopy. Once beneath the tree, Katie could see a metal gate that led to a brick archway between the house and the neighbouring one.
Verity opened the gate and gestured for Katie to go first.
“I had no idea this was here,” Katie said.
“Few people do; it’s why I keep the tree maintained the way I do. And had a bush planted for the winter months when the tree is bare.” Verity closed the gate behind them. “From the road, and even from our garden, you can’t see the archway.”
“Well, it had me fooled.”
Katie couldn’t believe she was walking down a pathway that ran the length of her living room and second bedroom. They exited into the garden and then around to the back door to the downstairs apartment.
Verity got the key out of her pocket and unlocked and opened the door.
The step at the back was much lower but still a struggle. Katie realised she wouldn’t be able to get in and out of her home for a while, not until the pain subsided considerably. She was relieved she didn’t live somewhere with a flight of stairs. If she lived in Verity’s apartment, she’d need to be carried in.
She leaned against the wall to catch her breath, wondering what was next. Verity had got her home. Was that it? Job done?
“Right. To bed, I think,” Verity said, locking the back door behind them.
Katie raised an eyebrow.
“Well, you’re not going to stand here and hold the wall up all evening,” Verity said. “Come on.”
They entered the bedroom, and Katie winced at the fact there was a pile of clothes on the floor and the bed was unmade. She knew without a doubt that Verity was definitely the sort who made her bed every morning.
Katie kicked off her trainers and shrugged out of her coat. Verity took the coat and then picked up the shoes and left to put them where she’d found them earlier.
Underneath the coat, Katie was wearing pyjamas, or what constituted pyjamas in her world: comfortable, soft exercise trousers that were a size too big and a long-sleeved, stripy top.
She lowered herself to the edge of her bed, fluffed up the pillows, and edged herself into a sitting position. She tugged the end of the duvet and pulled it over herself.
She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Back home and safe in her own bed, she felt like things were going to be okay.
“Can I get you anything? Some soup, perhaps?”
Katie opened her eyes. She scanned her memory for the contents of the kitchen cupboard. She knew for certain there was no soup in there, and was fairly confident there wasn’t much else either.
“I… don’t have any soup,” she admitted, wondering for the first time just what she was going to eat during her recovery.
“I do,” Verity said in a no-nonsense manner. “What would you like? Tomato? Chicken? Vegetable?”
“I don’t know.” Katie felt guilty again. Verity had already done so much, far too much, but she knew that turning Verity down now would certainly mean a choice between an epic struggle to get food and starving.
“Chicken?” Verity tried. “It seems appropriate.”
“I don’t want to put you out,” Katie said.
Katie shook her head. Verity looked at her for a long beat, giving Katie the chance to change her mind. Eventually she nodded and left through the front door.
The moment she was gone, Katie peeled the duvet away and shuffled towards the edge of the bed.
“Okay, Ross,” she told herself. “Let’s see how bad this is.”
She took a series of fortifying breaths before gently pushing herself to her feet. She clutched the wardrobe for support until the waves of dizziness and pain faded.
If she was going to care for herself, she needed to start getting up. The nurse had said that she should rest, but not rest too much. She needed to get up and get moving to aid in the healing process. The nurse probably hadn’t meant to do so within ten minutes of getting home, but Katie was keen to get on with the recovery part of her ordeal. And keen to not rely on Verity’s kindness for too long.
She slowly walked up the corridor and into the bathroom. When she saw her reflection, the breath left her lungs. She stared at her face in shock, not able to recall a time she ever looked so ill.
Bruising, paleness, scratches, and hair that would frighten children. She gripped the edge of her top and steeled herself. When she’d put it on, she hadn’t looked at the wound, not feeling ready to do so. Now she desperately needed to see.
It felt strange to be unaware of a part of her own body. To not know what lurked beneath the gauze.
Panic filled her, and she let go of the top. She couldn’t do it. Not yet.
She turned and picked up her toothbrush. That she could handle without too much effort or anxiety.
She brushed her teeth, carefully washed her face, and attempted to do something with her hair. After a few minutes she was back where she started, holding onto the edge of her top and bracing herself for the worse.
She lifted the top, pinning it with her chin against her chest. She peeled at the surgical tape, already concerned at the sight of dried blood on the white tape.