Page 14 of The Long Walk Back

‘How’s your other patient today?’ he asked, his tone softer.

Kate stood up, tucking the file under her arm and gripping the coffee cup in the other. ‘Just the same.’

Trevor sat forward on his desk, resting his elbows on the table. ‘You know what I’m going to say, Kate. You need to call Neil. You shouldn’t be going through this on your own.’

‘No,’ Kate spat back harshly, splashing coffee down her arm. She let the hot liquid burn her skin and felt an odd sense of relief at the pain. I am alive then, she thought to herself. Lovely.

Trevor ignored her outburst, accustomed to her every mood after so much time working so closely together. He pushed a box of tissues across the desk, and she put the cup down, drying herself off. A splodge of brown coffee was spreading across the label on the file, and she dabbed at it ineffectually, only to see the stain spread across the name typed across the white surface. His name was tainted now, different, and there was no one to blame but herself.

‘Is that all?’ she asked, wishing the conversation away in her head. Trevor nodded, his face implying that he wanted to say more, but thankfully he kept silent and Kate left the room. Rounding the corner, she gripped the file tight to her chest, leaning against the wall for support. She could feel the blood pulsing in her ears, and her head swam. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Pull it together, Kate, stop it. Get through the day, just get through the day. She repeated her new mantra aloud, over and over, till the pulsing subsided and she trusted herself to move. She heard a noise and opened her eyes, looking down the corridor, hoping that no one saw the mad woman talking to herself and hugging the wall. No such luck. A nurse was walking down the corridor trundling a suitcase along with her, a man in a wheelchair just behind. He wasn’t moving though, and her breath caught in her throat when she looked closer. The man had stopped his chair in the corridor, and was looking straight at her, a mixture of shock and disbelief in his features. Kate didn’t linger on his tight lips or his furrowed brow though; she had been taken hostage by his eyes. His big, green eyes, that were staring right back at her. One look into them, and she knew he had just witnessed her meltdown. She was grateful when the nurse addressed her. Nodding hello, she looked back at him, and he was still staring back at her. Looking away quickly, she turned on her heel and strode off down the corridor to her office.

Cooper

So, it was true. Someone up there really was having a laugh. I was dreading coming to this hippy hellhole as it was, but now I had the woman who sawed my leg off to look at every day. Just what every washed-up cripple needs. What was she doing here? Had she known I was coming? From the look on her face, that was a no. He thought of her actions in the corridor. Her son. Maybe she’s a mess, like me. Well, misery loves company. I wheeled myself after the nurse, who was waddling down the corridor at a leisurely pace to my new room. Opening the double doors on the corridor, she pointed at a button on the wall. ‘All the doors are opened by button entry, so no problem moving around the facility, and there is a call button in your room.’

I nodded once, glaring at the button as we passed through. Pressing a button like a child, whenever I needed help or simply wanted to open a door. It would be laughable if it wasn’t so tragic. The nurse, a cheery looking rotund woman with ‘Yvonne’ sewn onto the lapel of her uniform glanced back at me, stopping outside a room labelled ‘Room 15’. She pressed the button and walked through to the room, eyeing for me to follow. Once inside, she walked over to the curtains, opening them and cracking a window. Dust motes danced in the sunshine that fell onto the tiled floor and I squinted at the sudden change in light. ‘You should have left them closed,’ I growled, my short temper evident in my voice. It was ever present these days, having arrived on that chopper with me.

The nurse waved me away with her hand, choosing to ignore my obvious mood. ‘No chance, you need some fresh air, a bit of sunlight. Makes all the difference to a day.’

I tutted, wheeling into the room slowly. It was clean enough, a carbon copy of the other rooms I had seen since getting here. Generic pictures on the cream-painted walls, thick, patterned curtains, minimal furniture. A wardrobe, chest of drawers, bedside table, and a custom hospital bed, complete with bed rails and soft mattress. I thought back to my last proper bed, before, back on the base – a ratty cot bed with scratchy blankets, the smell of the day’s toil ground into the fabric. I would give anything right now to be back there, instead of in this glorified nursing home. Yvonne was starting to unzip my case now, and I shooed her away.

‘Er, thanks, but I can unpack myself. Later.’ She turned to look at me, opening her mouth as if to argue, but thought better of it and opened the door to the en suite. Another button.

‘You have your bathroom here, pull cord on the wall if you need it. Anything else I can help you with?’

I shook my head, staring at my case, the wall, anywhere but in her direction.

Yvonne pursed her lips before smiling at me and turning to leave. I began closing the curtains, having already shut the low window. Then I heard her come back into the room, and she reached over my shoulder from behind me, dropping something in my lap – the induction pack.

‘For you, when you’re ready.’

I didn’t turn around till the too-cheerful nurse had gone. I picked up the pack, breaking the seal. It was full of pamphlets and brochures on the centre, about the local help available, all the usual crap. It was then I spied a menu and a few other forms to fill in, and a schedule. Throwing the rest of the pack onto the bed, I looked at the daily plan the people in charge had made for me and froze when I spotted a familiar name. Kate Harper was on my schedule, every day for one-to-one rehabilitation. It had to be the same Kate as the one I just saw scraping herself off the corridor wall. I had made some enquiries after the time we spent together on the way home, but the hospital staff had been pretty tight-lipped about the whereabouts of the doctor and wouldn’t answer any questions about her son or his wellbeing. Looking at her today though, it looked like she was struggling, so maybe her son really had died. Would she be back at work just a few short months later though? Had a tragedy like that happened to me, I would have used work to power through, so maybe that’s just what she was doing.

I couldn’t get a read on her; the woman who squeezed my hand as she slept, and urged me to live, that girl intrigued me and kept me up at night. The other half, the cold surgeon – this was the part I really couldn’t get my head around. It looked like she had recognised me though, even though she didn’t acknowledge it. I rubbed at my stump, trying to relieve the itching sensation I sometimes got. Moving to the bed, I looked in the pack for details of the gym. One thing that went in this place’s favour was the workout facilities, and I could feel my muscles just dying for a good stretching. Exercise made me focus, distracted me from the thoughts and feelings that crashed into my brain, sending me crazy. Being stuck in this place was one thing, thinking about the next step was even worse – and I had no intention of taking that step anytime soon. Grabbing a towel from the top of the case, I pressed the button for the door to my new room and headed out to explore.

Kate was lying awake again, staring at the alarm clock, waiting for it to spring into action, spitting out the relentless cheerfulness that was morning radio. She reached for her phone and dialled a number, sighing deeply when the answering machine spoke out, informing her the mailbox was full and no message could be left. She threw her phone down on the mattress beside her, reaching over and slapping the alarm button hard when the clock struck the hour. Swinging her legs out of bed, she reached for her phone again, her hands shaking as she dialled. A ringtone echoed out into the quiet of the stark room, and Kate’s breath held as it rang and rang. After an age, a croaky voice picked up, wearily saying ‘hello’ down the line.

Kate’s heart was hammering in her chest as she heard the dulcet tones of her father-in-law.

‘Roger, it’s Kate. I am sorry to ring you so?—’

‘Kate? What’s wrong?’ His voice held concern, but she knew it was just him being polite. He didn’t really care, he had already shown that much.

‘Nothing is wrong, I’m just… I need to speak to Neil. Roger, we have to talk, and I can’t get anywhere with his work, and his phone is off, and?—’

‘Kate,’ Roger said, cutting her short. ‘I don’t fully understand what has gone on between you, but, after everything, I… he just doesn’t want to be contacted by you, Kate, and I have to respect his wishes. You told him it was over, you can’t have it how you want now.’

Kate gripped the phone tight, willing herself not to swear at the selfish prick of a man, defending his cowardly son. Years of being the quiet, dutiful partner, taking the scraps of ‘kindness’ her in-laws seldom threw, having to bite her tongue when they tried to tell her how to look after their son, while forsaking any interest in their own grandson. Every memory was a smouldering ember, floating around in the dark recesses of her memory, until now. Now, she let in the light, and the embers sparked against each other, fizzing and glowing into flames of fire. Between gritted teeth, she spoke slowly in a low, clear voice.

‘When you play this conversation back in your head, years from now, I want you, both of you, to realise just how much of a mistake you made. Our marriage was over before I left for Iraq, but I’m not calling for me and you know it. This isn’t about Neil, or me. The solicitors are dealing with all that. I want nothing from Neil, or you.’ There was a surprised snort at the other end of the line, and Kate knew that her father-in-law was struggling to digest how she spoke to him. ‘I will never contact you again, but if you have a heart, then you will ask your precious, spineless son, to call his ex-wife back. We have to sort this once and for all. You have my number.’

And she pressed the red button as forcefully as she could, suddenly wishing she had called on a landline so she could have slammed the receiver down, or even still had her mobile flip phone, so she could bang that shut. Pressing a button to end a call to a complete arsehole just didn’t have the same satisfying effect, and she felt cheated. Cheated and impotent, just like she did every morning when she awoke, crying in the dark, alone.

8

COOPER

First morning of the touchy-feely bullshit rehab, and the good doctor was late. Only five minutes late, granted, but it still pissed me off. The army were big on time, so I was used to being organised with every minute of my day accounted for – not sitting here, watching the seconds and minutes of my life tick by. I’d been antsy all morning, wanting to see her. Not wanting to see her. Hell, I didn’t know if I was mad at her, or just tormented by what I didn’t know about her. I adjusted myself in the chair, trying to wake up my left bum cheek, which had fallen asleep. The lads in the gym had been great, and felt just like me – bored, missing the call of work, eager to pump some iron and feel the burn. They all had various degrees of injuries, but they didn’t moan, and didn’t ask questions, which was perfect for me. Denial is a wonderful thing, I find these days.

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