Page 10 of The Long Walk Back

‘Put the cover back,’ I begged. Kate wrapped me up again, checking the monitor, her face a mask of stricken pain.

‘Do you need more pain relief?’ she asked softly. I nodded, and she turned to the fluid bag my IV drip was connected to.

I looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to catch sight of my broken body under the sheets. I didn’t want this.

Kate took a seat in the chair beside me, and I turned my head to look at her. Her face soothed me, and I didn’t have the strength to unpick at the whys and wherefores in that moment. Too much hurt, so I focused on what didn’t. What helped keep me from thrashing around in this bed, breaking everything I could get my hands on.

‘You were crashing, so we had to make a call. You didn’t make it, we had to revive you twice. I had no choice; you must know that. I didn’t want to?—’

I felt as though she had slapped me. ‘You took my leg?’ I said gruffly. ‘You did this to me?’

I watched tears spring into her eyes, and she swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. A single tear escaped from her eye and ran down her cheek, and she wiped at it quickly, erasing the evidence.

‘Yes, I operated.’

I nodded. The drugs started to kick in again, the pain in my body numbing. I didn’t try to fight the sleep that was coming, it felt like sweet oblivion was sweeping in to take me away, and I welcomed it. I whispered something, my voice giving out, and Kate leaned closer, her ear hovering over my mouth. I caught the scent of her perfume in my nostrils, and I felt a twitch in my lower body. I would have laughed at the inappropriateness of it all, but I couldn’t muster the energy. I definitely didn’t measure up now. Not that it mattered any more.

‘What did you say?’ she asked. She went to fill a cup with water and put the straw near my mouth. I took a sip and felt the coolness of the water drifting down my throat. I tried again to spit out the words that were screaming inside my brain like a pinball in an arcade machine.

‘You should have let me die,’ I breathed, and sleep took me under.

5

‘We followed protocol, Kate. He might not see that now, but no papers were signed. We have to make these calls in the field all the time. If we have to get paperwork signed for everything we did, half the soldiers here wouldn’t make it. It’s not like back home, it was an emergent situation. He expressed it verbally, but the situation worsened and we could no longer ask him his wishes. It’s on me. I’ll tell him it was my call.’

‘No,’ Kate felt numb, but she didn’t need anyone to take the rap for her. ‘He needs a doctor he can trust, and I’m not that person any more. Don’t tell him. There’s no point. I made the cut, either way.’ She couldn’t regret her decision. She wouldn’t. She’d followed orders, saved a life. There was no point in regret, not here. It was done, and she would live with it. He’d live – and hate her forever. It was that point that bothered her more than anything else. It was irritational. Unprofessional, but unshakable from her thoughts. She couldn’t explain why this man meant so much to her, at this point in time and place. What it meant. Yet she couldn’t bear to think of him just slipping away, somehow. She knew in her gut that he wasn’t done. Maybe one day he would see that too, and hate her a little less. She would be home in mere weeks, and she would be some woman, part of a bad memory in his head. At least he will be alive; she comforted herself with that thought as she sat there. After the debrief, when she had a break in duties, she gravitated back to him.

Cooper hadn’t spoken again, he was still sleeping off the meds. She had stayed at his bedside all night, checking his vitals, and now she had a crick in her neck and a heavy weight deep in the pit of her stomach. She had watched him sleep fitfully, his temperature spiking as his body fought off the remnants of the infection. Around five that morning, he had turned the corner, his vitals stabilising. Taking his leg had saved his life, and Kate was so relieved she could cry. His words, however, would haunt her for the rest of her days, and she wasn’t looking forward to facing him once he woke up. She wondered whether he would ever be thankful for what she did, given time. Wished she could be around to see how he was down the line.

For now, she could make sure he wasn’t alone. She got up when her phone rang. Seeing her husband’s name flash up on her screen, she sighed. Thinking about Neil was the last thing she needed right now, but he was back home, holding the fort with their son. After ending things, she owed him to at least pick up.

‘Hello?’ Cooper was still out, and a nurse was nearby. She walked towards her bed, wishing that the day was over already.

6

Abby came into the small office area off the ward, to see Kate surrounded by various charts and files.

‘He got you doing paperwork?’

‘Yep,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I don’t mind.’ She didn’t voice the fact that they were quiet today. Saying things like that tended to trigger things in the medical profession. It was an unspoken code that all medics followed. Tempting fate was never a good move. ‘Keeps me busy.’

Abby nodded to the countertop, clicking on the kettle. ‘Coffee?’

Kate looked at the desk next to her, where an assortment of dirty cups littered the surfaces. ‘Sure, one more can’t hurt. I won’t sleep anyway. You might need a mug though. I’ll help.’ She got to work, dumping all the crockery into the sink and washing them. She passed two mugs to Abby, who was busy munching away on a cereal bar like a starving squirrel. ‘How is he?’

Abby’s eyes sparked with recognition. Her nurse friend had seen her sitting with Cooper enough to know who she was asking about. She’d tried to keep her distance, as much as she could, sensing that her face might not be the one he’d want to see when his emerald green eyes opened. ‘He’s stable, but still out. He’s hopefully going to be weaned off the meds a bit tonight, we’ll see how he feels then. The operation worked though, signs of sepsis are gone.’

Kate felt her heart beat, as though it had taken a misstep. ‘Drain? Any signs of wound infection, tissue necrosis? Urine output?’

Abby took the barrage of questions in her stride. ‘Drain should be out tomorrow, no infection or necrosis. The site looks good Kate, you did a good job. Urine output is low, but he was a little dehydrated from the field anyway. We’re still pushing fluids.’

Kate ran through the knowledge in her head, looking for anything she missed. Abby tapped her on the arm.

‘Kate, you didn’t miss anything. He made it. He will make it. You did good.’

Kate didn’t hear the praise. She just thought about what it would take to get him to see that living was worth it. She had to make him understand, even though she wasn’t entirely sure herself what her reasons were. She thought of her conversation with Neil earlier. Yet again, he had called to moan about how much he had to do: the washing, Jamie, work. He was mad at her for going. For ending things and leaving him in limbo… It hung in the air between them. She had apologised, as she always did; she apologised for choosing to keep chasing her own career. Hurt, Neil was focusing on what she’d left him with. Carrying the baby, so to speak. He’d even used the phrase single parent, and she’d bitten her tongue so she didn’t point out that this is what they were now, no matter what continent she was on. Jamie was looked after by his own father, who helped make him, but this of course went unsaid, as usual. She often wondered what the world would look like if humans were like seahorses, and the men had to carry babies through to birth. Odds on, humanity would grind to a shuddering halt.

‘Has he been awake at all?’

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