Beryl woke into a not quite darkness where the pale glows of night lights lit a ceiling of metallic strips and pockmarked tiles.

She lay still for a moment before exploring the sensations (and lack of same) that made her body feel so strange.  A slow moving, clumsy arm came up to sweep a lock of hair away from her cheek.  It weighed almost enough to anchor it to the bed.  With sudden shock, she realized that the hand was splinted and bandaged and that a narrow tube led out of the back of her hand and disappeared somewhere off to the right and behind her.

Her spirits sank quite suddenly into the space that her boots would have occupied if she had been standing up.

Almost as if having seen where she was had satisfied her curiosity, she slid easily back into sleep.

Rattling and chattering noises shattered her sleep.  Outside, it was still dark but in side, the lights were switched on and everywhere was bright and stark.

A tired looking nurse was moving round the beds with thermometers, gently bullying reluctant beds into giving up their occupants – when the nurse came next to her bed, she tried a bright and cheerful “Good morning Mrs Cartwright” that might have been successful eight hours earlier.

“Good……………..  Oh dear, my voice.”  Beryl said in a voice like broken crockery.

“Don’t worry about that love, there’s no damage, it’ll come right.”

“Where am I please?”

“You’re in the Princess Royal Hospital, love, you’ve been here since about 1.30am yesterday morning.”

“A whole day?”

“A whole day.”

“And I’ve been asleep all that time?”

“Yes love.”

“What about this?”  She indicated the drip by waving her hand in the air between them.

“Well, I guess that now you’re awake we’ll probably be able to take that down.  Just wait till the dr. comes around and see what he says.”

“Great. It’s kind of, um, awkward, you know.”

“Yes, I know.  Oh, and don’t go trying to rush around too much just yet.”
“I know, I’m pretty stiff.  I guess I’ve got a broken rib at least.”

"Two.  And pretty extensive bruising.  What on earth were you up to?”

For the first time since waking up, she thought about Anth.  She suddenly felt very guilty.  She hadn’t even asked how he was.  Was he in hospital too?  Or was he still at home with no-one to look after him?

“How’s Anth?”  She asked.  “Is he alright?”

“Who’s Anth?”  she asked.

“My husband.  Was he hurt?”

“I don’t know, love, he’s not on this ward so I couldn’t really say.  You’d best talk to the day staff when they come on duty, they should be able to find out for you.  Now, open your mouth and put this under your tongue.  I’d get shot if it ever came out that I’d had to guess your temperature.”  She chuckled.

The Nurse checked her pulse and blood pressure, and then checked the thermometer.

“Right,” she said, “Now if I were you, I’d close my eyes and go back to sleep.  There’s almost two hours before breakfast and they’ll pass faster if you’re asleep.”

“I’ve just spent the last 28 hours asleep – I won’t want any more for a week!”

“Well, as you wish.”

She went on to check the person in the next bed and when she turned around, Beryl was asleep again.  She smiled knowingly and shook her head.

                                                            * * * *

Around about ten o’clock in the morning, The Dr. arrived with a nurse and a trolley full of folders.  They stopped at the foot of her bed and the nurse closed the curtains around them.

The Dr. looked at the chart hanging from the foot of her bed and looked up.

“Good morning, Mrs. Cartwright, how are you feeling this morning?”

“Stiff, and sore.  What happened?”

“We were kind of hoping that you would be able to tell us that.  You were brought in here suffering from smoke inhalation, but when we examined you more closely it appears that you have several injuries that are not related to the fire.  For instance, you have two broken ribs (one of which penetrated the lung) and severe bruising.”

“Oh, I can explain that.”  Beryl said, thinking rapidly.

I just bet you can, thought the dr. I expect you have had plenty of practice.

“When I heard the chip pan woof, I ran into the bedroom to get away from the fire.  I caught my toe in the bed leg and tripped.”

“Mrs Cartwright, the injury to your ribs is not consistent with a fall.”

“That’s what happened.”

“O.K. if that’s what you want.  The Police want to talk with you later, though, so you might want to work on your story a little.” 

 

He knew better than to insist.  It didn’t take much imagination to see that this woman was covering up for someone, probably her husband.  How many women had he treated in the past year alone who had had near fatal falls that had miraculously produced injuries that looked more like the result of a thorough beating?  He didn’t know.  He didn’t WANT to know.  “Too many” was a close enough estimate for him.

“Before you go, Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“Has anyone any news about Anth?

“Anth?  Is that your husband?”

“Yes, he was in the flat when the fire started, did he get out?”

“He wasn’t admitted here last night.  He could have.”

She could not work out whether she felt relief or grief.  If he got out, he was alive and he could come back and punish her for letting the flat burn.  But on the other hand, if he got out, he was still alive.

“Thank you.  And now, what about this?”  She waved her splinted hand around in the general direction of the drip.

“A nurse will be down in a few minutes” he said with a reassuring smile.   “She’ll have that plumbing out of you in one tenth of the time it took to put it in, don’t you fret.”

“Thank you Doctor.”

A few minutes later, a nurse arrived with a trolley, and miraculously, Beryl was free.