Page 19 of Under the Arabian Sky

“What am I doing here?”

“I’m trying to patch you up, but I need you to keep still.”

“Patch me up?”

“I was hoping you’d stay unconscious for the stitches, but I guess now you’ll be awake for the show.”

“Stitches? Don’t I need a doctor for that?”

“I told you, Iama doctor.”

“I mean a human doctor.”

“What do I look like, an orangutan?”

“I mean a doctorforhumans.”

“I tried. I took you to the hospital but the queue at the E.R. was too long, and if I’m honest I’m not sure how helpful they’d have been. After all, I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know your passport number or whether you have medical insurance or even the company you work for. It makes it hard to admit a patient you know nothing about. All I know is your name. Now hold still.”

I felt a sting near my temple. “Ow!”

“You shouldn’t have felt that. I’ve given you a local. Are you a hypochondriac?”

“No, I’m not a hypochondriac. At least I don’t think I am. I don’t get sick often enough to know. Ow! Double Ow!”

“Shhh. Let me concentrate, would you? I’m not used to patients who talk. You’re very distracting.”

I wanted to tell him he was distracting too, what with that handsome face so close to mine and those eyes peering so intently at me.

“Ow! Triple ow!”

Well, maybe he wasn’t distracting enough.

“Do you want me to finish fixing you or shall I stop now?”

“Finish… please. Just keep in mind I don’t have wings or four legs or nearly enough drugs in my system to mask the pain of those stitches.”

“Perhaps I didn’t give you a strong enough dose, but I was being cautious. I could have given you enough anaesthetic to knock out a camel but I probably would have needed a defibrillator to wake you up again. Although at the moment I’m somewhat tempted.”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or run. “You wouldn’t. You’re too kind. You love animals too much.”

“You’ve already pointed out you’re not one of them. Now shush. Just one more…”

I winced, too nervous about the anaesthetic comment to open my trap again.

I heard the snip of a pair of scissors.

“There. All done. Let me bandage you up and you should be as good as new.”

“Really?”

“No. You’ll have a headache for a day or so and the wound may scar a little, but at least you didn’t die out there in the desert like your friend Cavendish.”

I paused a moment as the thought of Cavendish entered my mind once more. “He wasn’t my friend. He was just a work colleague. I barely knew him at all.” I thought about the quirky older gentleman with the bowtie and the fob watch. “I wish now I had have made more of an effort. Once someone’s gone, they’re gone… aren’t they.”

The thought of Cavendish was replaced by memories of Andrew.

My clever, funny, handsome, adventurous Andrew.

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