Page 26 of Broken Heart Syndrome
‘You don’t have to …’ I started, but stopped as I felt the prick of the needle on my scalp. Instead of withdrawing my hand as I had intended, I squeezed his in a vice-like grip, and, to my embarrassment, emitted a small squeak. Tom didn’t flinch, and squeezed my hand in return. The worst part was the local anaesthetic; after that the stitches didn’t take long. Embarrassed, I tried to let go of Tom’s hand when the anaesthetic kicked in, but he seemed intent on holding onto me.
Once it was over, Lizzy started reeling off the head-injury advice: couldn’t be alone overnight, can’t drive, signs and symptoms to watch out for. I protested that I knew all this, but she insisted that I needed to be ‘treated like a proper patient’. Unfortunately this also involved asking me my next of kin for the paperwork.
‘Louise Sands,’ I muttered, looking at the floor.
‘Sorry?’ Lizzy asked.
‘It’s Lou, okay?’ I said defensively, meeting Lizzy eyes, which were full of understanding.
‘Right, yes, of course,’ she said, trying to gloss over the awkwardness. Unfortunately Tom, as ever, didn’t miss a trick.
‘Is Lou your sister?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Then why –’ Thankfully Lizzy decided to jump in and save me at that point. Although in this case it was out of the frying pan and into the fire.
‘How are you getting home, Frankie?’ It was now past five o’clock and the angiogram list had finished.
‘It’s not far, I’ll be fine.’
‘What do you mean “you’ll be fine”?’ Tom asked, his brows drawing together. He still hadn’t let go of my hand, and I tried to yank it free again, without success. ‘You can’t drive.’
‘I know that,’ I said. ‘I’m not driving.’
‘You’re not getting a taxi either. I’ll drive you,’ he declared.
‘No, no, no, no,’ I said in horror, deciding to argue anyway. ‘I’m fine, and I need to get my bike home.’
‘You’re not riding a bloody bike,’ he roared, going red in the face.
‘I’ll just leave you guys to it, okay?’ Lizzy put in, smirking as she left the cubicle.
I finally managed to pull my hand free and swung my legs over the side of the trolley. Jumping down, to my annoyance I had a sudden rush of blood to my head and swayed on my feet. Tom’s hands shot out to steady me, but I shrugged him off. He sighed and ran both hands through his hair.
‘Frankie, you can barely stand. You arenotriding your bike.’ His tone had softened but it was still firm. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists by my sides, wishing that Lou or Dylan were here. ‘Look, please let me take you home. I feel like a total shit forcing you to come to the cath lab, when you clearly hate it. Obviously being an interventionist isn’t for you, I shouldn’t have pushed. There’s loads of other stuff I can set up for you: echoes, electrophysiology.’ What was he on about? Of course I wasn’t interested in intervention. I wasn’t interested in any aspect of cardiology full stop. ‘Then I made you put your crocs on. You knew you might faint, didn’t you?’
‘Well, yeah. It happens,’ I shrugged. ‘Cold on my soles helps.’
He was looking at me with a pained expression. ‘Jesus. I really am a bastard,’ he muttered. ‘Please let me take you home.’
At least now I understood what was going on with all this attention. It wasn’t that he cared for me; he was just feeling guilty.
‘Okay,’ I conceded as another wave of nausea and giddiness had me reaching for the bed-rail. Tom steadied me again, and then tucked me into his side to walk me out of A&E. I couldn’t help but breath in his clean, citrusy yet musky scent from my position under his arm. It was amazing, and did not help my lightheadedness in the slightest.
As he led me thorough the busy triage area I could see staff staring at us with open curiosity, and I could almost feel the hospital gossip grapevine stirring into action.
Brilliant.
Chapter 11
Van-cleaning fantasies
‘Spill it, Frankster,’ Lou pleaded for the millionth time. ‘Come on, we had about a thousands texts and calls describing your Tarzan-and-Jane drama. We want to hear it first hand.’
Jeez, was hospital gossip really so pathetic that we had created that much of a stir so quickly?
‘It’s no big deal guys, honestly.’ My head was beginning to pound. It was late. I was at home with Lou and Dylan, and Lou was in full interrogation mode. ‘He just felt guilty that he made me go to the lab and then made me put my shoes on, that’s all. He felt like my faint was his fault.’ I had not repeated any of Lizzy’s theories on the subject, not wanting to add any fuel to the fire.
