He shrugged. ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’ He continued to ride back and forth along the wall while we waited for Mum and I was grateful for the distraction because I found myself forgetting that I was in pain as I watched him. It wasn’t long before I saw Mum’s grey car coming up the street behind him, her anxious face looking out of the window on the driver’s side. As soon as she spotted me, she parked the car and leaped out. She’d obviously come straight from her Pilates class without changing because she was still in her black Lycra gym clothes and her red hair was tied up in a bun at the back of her head.
‘Ohmigod!’ she cried when she saw me sitting on the pavement. ‘What have you done?’ She turned to Uri who got down from the wall with his cycle. ‘And who are you?’
‘He’s Uri and I’ve hurt my—’ I started, but Mum was looking at Uri’s hair and then she looked back at mine. In all the commotion, I’d forgotten that my hair was as white as his. ‘Your hair, Marsha! WHAT have you done to your hair?’ She turned back to Uri. ‘What have you done to my daughter?’
‘Nothing! He was just passing by when I fell. He kept me company. Never mind my hair. Never mind him, Mum. I’m in pain,’ I groaned.
Uri nodded. ‘I think she needs to go to the hospital,’ he said, and pointed at the wall. ‘I think she hurt her wrist.’
‘Oh Lord, ohmigod!’ Mum knelt down and asked me to wriggle my fingers and when she found that I couldn’t she tried to help me up, but as I put weight on my right foot it crumpled beneath me.
‘Ow, ow, my ankle,’ I yelped. I realized that I must have fallen on it and twisted it.
‘Lean on me,’ said Mum.
‘And take my arm with your good one,’ said Uri. It was no use. I couldn’t stand up properly, and Mum looked like she was going to faint.
‘I’ll lift her,’ said Uri, and in a second his strong hands picked me up as if I were as light as a feather.
‘Open the car door,’ he said.
Mum opened the door and Uri positioned me gently in the front seat.
‘Let me know how she is, won’t you?’ asked Uri, and as Mum got into the driver’s seat he looked at me and said, ‘Sorry, Zodiac Girl. I know it said in your chart that you had an encounter coming up with me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I told you,’ said Uri. ‘I’m Uranus, the planet of the unexpected and . . . well, sometimes I don’t even know what’s going to happen.’
‘I . . . who?’ I started.
‘What’s he talking about?’ Mum interrupted as she got into the driver’s seat. ‘Is he mad?’ She closed the door then wound down the window. ‘Be off with you. Shoo, you strange man.’
Uri raised an eyebrow in surprise and shrugged his shoulders at me.
‘No, Mum, you don’t understand. He’s been kind,’ I protested.
‘So what’s he on about, then? Uranus? Zodiacs?’ Mum asked, starting the car.
‘I don’t know,’ I replied, turning in my seat to watch Uri out of the window as we drove away. How did he know I was a Zodiac Girl? I wound down my window with my good hand. ‘How did you know I was a Zodiac Girl,’ I called back at him.
But it was too late. Uri was mouthing something, but I couldn’t hear above the roar of the engine, and seconds later the car turned a corner and my mystery companion had disappeared.
Chapter Five
Casualty
‘OWWWWWWWWW,’ I yelped when the young doctor who had introduced himself as Dr Sam Heaton pressed on a few points around my wrist.
‘OWWWWWW,’ he yelped back as my foot shot out in response to his prodding and kicked him on the shin.
‘Oops, sorry,’ I said.
‘Th-th-that’s OK,’ Dr Sam stuttered, but his eyes watered and he manoeuvred himself out of the way of my feet. He hardly looked old enough to be a doctor; in fact, he looked more like he belonged in the Sixth Form with his pleasant face, tousled brown hair and pink cheeks.
‘It hurt when you pressed,’ I said.
‘Is it broken?’ asked Mum.
‘I can’t tell until it’s been X-rayed. You hang on here and I’ll go and get that organized. In the meantime, I’ll get one of the nurses to give you a painkiller,’ said Dr Sam, then I heard him mutter under his breath, ‘Might even take one myself.’
‘How long will it take?’ I asked. ‘I want to go home.’
We’d been in the accident and emergency unit for over three hours waiting to be seen. My wrist and my ankle were throbbing, I was hungry and I had a headache coming on.
‘Not long,’ he said, ‘but it’s always busy here at weekends.’
As he made his way out of the small cubicle, a teenage boy with red hair who was coming the other way suddenly lurched and then vomited all over Dr Sam’s white coat.
‘Eww! Gross!’ I cried, and then clapped my hand over my mouth because I realized I’d said it so loud that everyone in the unit must have heard. Behind the counter, a man who was taking the names of newcomers chuckled. I reckoned I’d voiced what a lot of the people who work there daily must think. ‘Remind me never to be a doctor,’ I said to Mum.
‘But thank God some people choose to be,’ she replied, looking coyly in Dr Sam’s direction, which almost made me say ‘Gross!’ again. I mean, eww, my mum acting like a teenage girl.
I watched Dr Sam retreat through the doors at the end of the corridor. ‘I wonder if this is a typical day for him. Kicked and then someone throws up on you. What a job!’
After another hour of waiting and playing a word game with Mum to pass the time, I was taken down to the X-ray unit. By then the tablet that a nurse had given me had taken effect, my wrist wasn’t quite as painful and all I felt was that I’d like to slide under one of the chairs or beds and have a sleep. Once I’d been X-rayed, they saw that my ankle wasn’t broken, so a nurse bandaged it up and I was shown to A&E again. We had to wait to see what was wrong with my wrist.
Being ill has to be the most boring thing ever, I thought, as Mum fussed over me before going off to get us some sandwiches and a drink from the shop near the hospital’s main reception. I looked around for something to do, but couldn’t see anything. I sat back in my chair and looked up at the ceiling. It was covered with white tiles and there was a crack in the one nearest the light bulb. I glanced back down and around. A few people were sitting on the orange plastic chairs in the waiting room, an old lady in her nightie, a fraught-looking mother with a chubby-cheeked toddler, a red-faced man who stank of beer and had a cut on his forehead. Opposite were the cubicles where the doctors saw the patients. Most of them had the curtains pulled closed. I looked across the unit and out of the window but couldn’t see much from where I was. I was about to get my phone out when I saw a poster above a radiator that said the use of mobiles WAS NOT allowed. Seeing the sign reminded me of my new zodiac mobile. That’s what I can do, I thought. I can see how it works. I felt in my pocket for the phone, but couldn’t find it. I stood up and had another feel around. No, it definitely wasn’t there. Had I put it somewhere? I wondered. No. No. I definitely had it in my pocket just before the cat jumped in front of me. Bug bottoms. It must have slipped out when I fell. Grrr. This day really is turning out to be a major bummer.
I got up and hobbled to the A&E reception desk and waited for what seemed like an eternity for the lady there to look at me.
Finally she glanced up and made eye contact. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘Have you got any magazines or books or anything? I’m bored.’
‘Does this look like a library? No, we haven’t got any magazines. Where’s your mother?’
‘Gone to the shop.’
‘Then maybe she’ll get you a magazine.’
Her glare communicated that I was to go back to my seat, sit down and shut up. Hmm, I thought. She’s a cross nick. I sat back, closed my eyes and tried not to focus on my wrist. It was beginning to hurt again. Try to have a nice daydream, I told myself. It’s what Dad always advised me to do when I was little and we were on a l
ong journey somewhere. Imagine that you’re in a lovely place on holiday and the sea is just a metre away, lapping up on the shore. The sun is shining down, the birds are singing . . . My fantasy was disturbed by the sound of someone groaning and seconds later the powerful odour of disinfectant filled my nostrils. I opened my eyes to the bright lights above. At least I won’t have to stay in overnight, I thought. I can’t imagine that anyone ever gets any sleep.
As I sat there, an old man came into the unit. I couldn’t help but stare at him because he seemed so out of place – I could see by his white hair and beard that he was old, but he seemed to radiate health as if he were lit up from the inside. He scanned the people in the waiting area and then the moment he saw me he nodded to himself and began to make his way over. He must be short sighted, I thought, because I have never set eyes on him in my life.
When he reached me, he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it over. ‘I think this is yours,’ he said.
It was my zodiac phone!
‘Yes. I . . . H-how did you know?’ I stuttered.
The man gave me a stern look. ‘It is my duty to know. And you, young lady, ought to be more careful. To be chosen as a Zodiac Girl is a rare honour, as it is to receive one of these phones. To lose it on your very first day, well . . . it smacks of irresponsibility, if you ask me.’
‘That’s so unfair,’ I blurted. ‘I fell. It wasn’t my fault. It must have slipped out of my pocket.’
‘That’s so unfair,’ mimicked the man in a baby voice. ‘Not my fault.’
‘It wasn’t. And I don’t talk like that.’
‘Major lesson in life, young lady, and that is take responsibility for your actions and your mistakes.’
I felt myself growing very cross. ‘No need for the lecture,’ I said with a pout.
He turned to go. ‘Well, don’t lose it again. I have better things to do with my time than chase silly young girls around with things they have lost. And do I hear a word of thanks? Not likely.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. I knew I sounded sulky, but I’d had a miserable day. He didn’t understand. ‘Hey. Who are you anyway?’
‘Dr Cronus. Another one of the planets. You’ve met Mars and Uranus already. I’ve come by to let you know that as an Aries your ruling planet is Mars, so you get Mario Ares as your guardian. He’s already made himself known to you, but you can expect him to be in touch again soon to help out where he can. A few of us others will also drop by from time to time to lend a helping hand.’ He chuckled when he said this. ‘Helping hand, that’s exactly what you do need, isn’t it?’
Oh, heckity thump, I thought, he’s a nutty noodle job. Best humour him until Mum gets back and then we can call security. ‘Oh, yes. Um . . . and which planet are you?’
He gave me another of his stern looks. ‘Saturn. Saturn rules Capricorn. It’s a very different sign to Aries. Do you know much about your sign?’
I nodded. ‘A bit. Good at sports. First sign of the zodiac, yeah?’
‘Yes, not yeah. And impatient. Can’t sit still. Should look before they leap. Not like Capricorns who think before they act,’ he said, and pointed at my wrist. ‘Still, this ought to slow down your momentum for a while.’ I’m sure that it wasn’t my imagination – he looked gleeful as he said it.
‘It’s nothing serious,’ I said. ‘I think it’s just a sprain.’
Dr Cronus chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t bet on that!’
And then he stomped off.
What a strange man, I thought.
Mum came back a few moments later with two cartons of juice, a bar of chocolate and a packet of crisps.
‘There wasn’t much left in the shop,’ she said as she put the items on an empty chair next to us.
I pointed to the glass doors. We could see Dr Cronus crossing the car park. ‘See that man, Mum? He’s a total nutter.’
Mum strained to look, shook her head and laughed. ‘I don’t think so, love. That’s Dr Cronus.’
‘You know him?’
Mum nodded. ‘He’s the headmaster of a very prestigious local school just outside Osbury. He has a fantastic reputation and gets great results. I met him at the last conference that was held for local headmasters and headmistresses. I was very impressed and think I’ll use some of his methods in my school. He’s very strict and old fashioned, but it works.’
‘He thinks he’s a planet.’
Mum laughed again and patted my arm. ‘Honestly, Marsha, you do say some funny things sometimes.’
‘No really. He thinks he’s Saturn. Rules Capricorn. He just told me.’
It was no use. I tried telling her about Uri too, but she just creased up laughing as if I were making it all up on purpose to entertain her.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Marsha,’ she said. I had been about to show her my zodiac phone, but after her reaction I decided not to waste my time. I would investigate these planet people and the zodiac thing on my own.
‘This really has to be the most boring day of my whole life,’ I said, after we had sat for another age with nothing else to do but watch sick people come and go.
‘Are you OK? Is there anything I can get you?’ asked Mum.
‘I just want to go home,’ I said.
She put her hand over my good one and gave me a painful smile. ‘Me too.’
We sat there for another hour while Mum put on her cheerful face and voice, and tried to keep me entertained. I found myself nodding off while she rattled on, and woke with a jolt when I almost slipped off the chair. What’s going on? I wondered as I heard Dr Sam’s and Mum’s voices a few feet away.
‘Murmur murmur, murmur murmur.’
I strained to hear what they were saying. I could hear the odd word like ulna and fracture.
‘I CAN hear you,’ I said. ‘I’m not deaf.’
Mum turned round. ‘Sorry, darling. Dr Heaton here says it looks like a greenstick fracture.’
‘Sounds like some kind of plant. Is it bad?’ I asked.
Dr Sam gave me a smile. ‘It’s an incomplete fracture where the bone bends like a green stick. We’ll have to put you in a backslab.’
‘A backslab? What’s that?’
‘It’s a plaster of Paris cast from the hand to halfway between the elbow and armpit. It’s free on one side of the forearm to allow swelling and enable circulation.’
‘How long before it gets better?’ I asked as a feeling of alarm hit my stomach.
‘Hmm. Fractures of the upper limb bones take about six weeks to heal—’
‘Six weeks?’
‘It can take around half of that in younger people. With a bit of luck you’ll be up and whacking a tennis ball about again in four weeks.’
‘Four weeks? Bu— but I’m in the school show. I’m the Ice Queen.’
Dr Sam and Mum exchanged worried glances.
‘And when’s the show?’ asked the doctor.
‘At the end of the month. In about three weeks.’
‘Hmm. Depends on the part. I think we could strap you up and you’d be OK as long as you don’t move around too much,’ said Dr Sam.
‘I don’t say anything. I dance. I’m the main dancer. The Ice Queen.’ I could feel my fantasy about being the star of the show and the talk of the school begin to crack and melt like an iceberg.
‘Dance? Oh no,’ said Dr Sam. ‘I don’t think there’s going to be much chance of that. Your ankle won’t take so long – it will be tender for a few weeks at least – but a greenstick fracture like yours needs time to recover properly.’
I can do this, I thought. I can fix this. I won’t give up. I sat up and made myself snap out of the sluggish feeling that had come over me since I’d taken the painkiller. ‘OK. So let’s do it. Sooner we get out of here, the better and the sooner I can get on with my recovery.’ I held out my wrist. ‘Do your stuff, Doc.’
Dr Sam grimaced. ‘I’m afraid you won’t be going home today, Marsha. We need to keep you in tonight—’
‘Stay in? Overnight? Nooo
o. You can’t be serious. It’s not even a complete fracture – you just said so. Mum, tell him—’
‘Darling, you have to do what the doctor says. What is it you have to do, Doctor?’
‘She’ll go up to the ward and be put into a Bradford sling. It holds the arm in the air. This is to reduce the swelling and makes the operation easier.’
‘OPERATION! WARD? Whoa there a moment. What operation?’
‘We need to manipulate the fracture. Don’t worry, you’ll be put to sleep so you won’t feel it and it means we can do the manipulation without any need for surgical incision. We use traction and rotation, and then we’ll put your arm in plaster of Paris from your knuckles to just above your elbow.’
A frightened voice was getting louder in the pit of my stomach. It just said one word: NoooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
‘I . . . I . . . But . . .’ The idea of anyone rotating, manipulating or coming anywhere near my sore wrist made me feel faint.
‘How long will it take?’ asked Mum.
‘The operation will take about half an hour. And it won’t be too painful afterwards.’
‘Not too painful? I . . . No. No. I don’t do pain. Mum, tell him I want a second opinion.’
‘We’ll give you paracetamol,’ said the doctor.
‘Paracetamol?’ I wasn’t feeling reassured. I needed chocolate. I reached out with my good hand for the bar that Mum had bought.
‘Enjoy that while you can,’ said Dr Sam. ‘If we’re going to do you first thing, you’ll need to starve from midnight tonight.’
‘No breakfast?’ I asked.
‘Nope. And you won’t be able to eat until after the operation either,’ said the doctor.
I. Could. Not. Believe. It.
My fear began to change into a surge of rage as a nurse appeared with a hospital gown and I saw the last remnants of my dream life disappear. Mum took the gown from the nurse and I remembered the words of Dr Cronus when I’d said it was only a sprain. ‘Don’t bet on it,’ he’d said. Grrr to you, whoever you are, I thought. Grrr, grrr, grrr! You can take your zodiac stuff, Dr Cronus, and you can take your ugly hospital gown, Dr Sam, and stick them up your bums. AAAAAArrrrrgh!
Dancing Queen (Zodiac Girls) Page 3