Page 89 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

Rosie sat forward, she sat back, she leant on Mark, she watched the television, she closed her eyes … none of them worked. And each time she thought so much time had passed, she looked at the clock and only a little time had gone. It was moving painfully slow. It was the same every time the door marked staff only opened, her heart jumped, and she stared, waiting for the woman to call their names. Mark’s name at least.

“You won’t get in trouble for what you said?” Rosie asked. They’d been sitting there an hour. It seemed every name had been called except them. Every time she panicked—like once every few minutes, Mark assured her it was good news.

“Said?”

“To the receptionist. About being his brother.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t care.”

More silence. Another few minutes.

“I’m dying for the bathroom, but I’m afraid the moment I go, they’ll come.”

“Sod’s law that would happen. Just go. I won’t go in without you.”

“What if they don’t let us in?”

Mark squeezed Rosie’s hand. She’d been holding onto him pretty much the whole time. Sure that if she let him go, it would be like letting William go. Mark was a part of William’s past, a part of what made him, him. She had to hold onto that no matter how stupid it sounded to anyone.

When she did go to the bathroom and come back again moments later, faster than usual, it was a relief to see Mark still sitting there. But she didn’t make it across the waiting room when a woman am out. “Mark Carter,” she said.

Rosie’s heart missed a beat. Actually no, it missed several and fell down to her boots. Mark came over to her and nodded at the woman. “That’s me. This is his fiancé, Rosie.”

“Rosie. He was asking for you.”

“Was? Is he …”

“He’s just out of recovery. You can see him. He’s a little groggy, though.”

Rosie’s insides were cold and fluid as she followed the woman and Mark led her through the doors. Each step they took had her breathing harder until they reached the third room along. “He’s just in here. Like I said, a little groggy, so you might not get much sense out of him.”

“Nothing new there then,” Mark joked, and the woman smiled.

“Is he okay, though? I mean …”

“He’s going to be sore for a while.” The woman opened his chart. “My name is Beth. I’m the doctor who worked on William.” She was slightly smiling as she said this. All good, Rosie thought. All good. She’d not smile if it was about to be bad news. No. She’d sit them down, offer them tea. “William has broken both his fibula and tibia.”

Rosie knew bones, she could name them and had come top in biology, but right then, the words were foreign, alien even. She frowned.

“His shin?” Mark asked.

The doctor gave another nod. “Both bones that make up the lower leg. He’s also broken the distal radius, which is his wrist. We’ve had to fit an internal fixing plate for that. But what we were most concerned about was the trauma to his abdomen. During the crash, a piece of metal managed to penetrate his abdomen, causing considerable bleeding.” She pointed to her own abdomen. “One entered here, and another here,” she said.

Rosie put her hand to her mouth. “But …”

The doctor explained what was done, first in terms that seemed so lost to Rosie and then with clarification. She explained how they had repaired the wounds. One of them was more superficial than the other, but the other had gone deeper. Enough to need surgery, but not enough that it would cause him any problems. “Like I said, he’ll be sore for a while and he’s going to need some time to recover.”

“How long?” it was Mark.

“Well, his leg could be up to six months. His wrist, not as long as that. The smaller wound to his abdomen should show good healing within about ten days. The other one, a little longer, but he’ll need some follow up care with that one. It’s actually his leg that’s going to need the most time to mend itself. He’s going to be off his feet for a while.”

Each thing the doctor said made Rosie feel the weight lifting off her. She could have thanked her. Hell, she could have hugged the poor woman, but she controlled herself. “Can I see him?”

“Of course. He’ll be asleep a lot. We’ve given him something for the pain, but you can go and sit with him.”

Rosie nodded, took a breath, and then let go of Mark’s hand. “Yes please.”

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