Battered

Chapter 12

When I get back to Cheryl's room a nurse tells me that she is going to be moved to a different ward upstairs. I gather up Cheryl's possessions and follow the nurse to an elevator that takes us up to the second floor.

We walk down a few corridors and come to a stop outside a room. It is slightly bigger than the last room and is painted a light yellow colour; much more cheerful than the other one. I position Cheryl's bouquet of flowers on the bedside cupboard and put away her belongings neatly inside.

The nurse heads off to collect Cheryl from theatre so I make myself at home in the surprisingly comfortable armchair at the side of the bed. I quickly text Nicola the new room number so she doesn't get lost when she comes back with my clean clothes.

A few minutes later Cheryl is wheeled in on a trolley by some nurses. They gently lift her into her bed and wire her up to a heart monitor and an IV drip. The ventilator is gone now so she must be breathing for herself, which is a good sign. I also notice that the bandage around her head has been removed and a large wound on her forehead has been stitched up.

The nurses leave the room, closing the door behind them and I shuffle my chair closer to Cheryl's bed.

"Hey" I say quietly, "I brought you some flowers"

I wonder if she can hear me? I take hold of her hand and give it a light squeeze

"Cheryl?"

I watch her face intently, looking for a sign of movement. Anything. If this were a Hollywood movie, now would be the point when her eyelashes flutter open and she wakes up, looking all glamorous and well-rested. But this isn't a movie, and she doesn't wake up. She just lays there, her chest softly rising and falling, very much still unconscious.

"You have to wake up Cheryl. Please" I feel myself becoming emotional again and fight back the tears as I hold on tighter to her hand. God, what it wrong with me? I deal with this kind of stuff all the time and I don't usually turn into such a snivelling wreck. Why is this case getting to me so much?

My thoughts are interrupted by Nicola entering the room, carrying two bags and a handful of magazines.

"Hi Kimba" she smiles, putting the bags down by my feet and passing me the magazines, "thought you might like something to read."

"Thanks Nic" I glance briefly at the magazine covers and put them in a neat pile on the table

Nicola walks over to the bed and looks at Cheryl, "She looks a bit better don't you think? More colour in her cheeks"

"Well she's off the ventilator maybe that has something to do with it" I hadn't really noticed before but now that Nic mentions it, Cheryl doesn't look as pale as she did earlier.

"Are all these things for me?" I ask, motioning to the two large bags.

"One bag is Cheryl's. I grabbed a few of her things from the shelter. Thought she might want them if she wakes up."

Nicola sits down in the empty chair next to the bed and looks over at me, studying my face, "You've been crying" she states after a few seconds of observation

"No I haven't"

"You sure? 'Coz you look like you have" Nicola gestures to her eyes

My silence speaks volumes and Nicola gives a knowing smile. She glances over at Cheryl then looks back at me, a serious expression on her face, "Just be careful Kimberley, you're getting too close" she says gently

"I know" I sigh. Getting out of my seat I walk across the room and look out of the window, gazing at the busy street below.

Nicola's right; I've allowed myself to become emotionally involved with Cheryl and professionally speaking that isn't appropriate.