14. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Keeley
T he ground races towards me. I turn my head to look for Oliver, but he’s not there and I’m alone hanging from the glider. The canopy suddenly rips free and I fall faster and faster towards the ground.
My eyes pop open and the semi-dark room comes into focus. I’m breathing heavily and the fear is paralysing every single muscle . It was just a dream . Just a dream. My gaze falls to the bedside table, and I grab the bottle of water and piece of paper leaning against it. Marisa must have placed them there after I fell asleep.
I slowly drain the bottle of water. I must still be dehydrated from yesterday. I move to get out of the bed to go to the loo and all my muscles protest. The doctor had warned me that I might have tense muscles in the morning but fuck me. I couldn’t hurt more if I’d run a marathon. In the glow of the bathroom light, a number of purple bruises are visible on my arms and legs. If I’m this battered and bruised, I don’t want to know how Oliver must be feeling.
Back in the bedroom, I unplug his phone from the charger (luckily my charger fit) and unlock it with the pin he gave me yesterday. The clock on the screen shows that it’s three in the morning. There is one message from Hannah saying that they won’t have to operate on him and that they’ll tell me everything in the morning.
They won’t have to operate on him. Surely that means it’s not that bad. Right? I open the search engine and type in “broken back” but as soon as the first articles come up I close the browser. The last thing I need is to drive myself crazy with worst-case scenarios courtesy of Dr Google.
Instead, I pull my laptop from the table and take it to bed. I open my writing app and just start typing—about what it felt like to fly, the accident, the conversations Ols and I had, and the rescue. Three hours later, I cut out the section about the rescue, paste it into a new document, add a short paragraph outlining the accident, and send it to my editor.
I don’t want to share all the details of what happened up there with the world. Our experience and the fears we faced are deeply personal—our story, and one that others might not fully understand. It’s something that belongs to just the two of us. But I do want to thank the incredible men and women of FMR. What they did was nothing short of heroic, and they’re all volunteers. At the bottom of the article, I included a link to a crowdfunding page I quickly set up.
With nearly two million followers on my blog’s social media accounts, if each of them donated even a pound, the total would be substantial. I don’t expect that kind of response, but I’m hopeful we can still raise a significant amount for FMR.
I’m not entirely sure if my editor will go for it, as it isn't what we usually write about, but I’ve added a bit more detail about the accident and how close we came to disaster, just for his eyes. I’m definitely pushing the guilt button here, but after everything that’s happened, I reckon I’ve earned that right. I want to make sure this post gets the attention it deserves, and I hope the editor will see how important it is to share our story, even if only to highlight the incredible work of the FMR volunteers.
Before I close my laptop, I save a copy of the full story in a private folder. As I do so, my attention is drawn to another folder. DCIM. That’s the folder where my phone syncs all my photos to the cloud. I open it nervously and scan for the latest photos uploaded. And there they are. The two photos I took on the flight, one of the views and the selfie. We look so happy in that moment. I make another copy of that photo and save it in the same folder as the story. This is one photo I want to keep forever.
Closing my laptop, I snatch the phone from the bedside table.
Me
This is Keeley on Ols’ phone. I’m up. Let me know when you’re awake. I would love to take you up on the lift.
No rush though!
It’s only six in the morning, but Marisa will see the message when she wakes up. Until then I can… I’m not sure what I can do. The room is silent and my mind is racing. The images from yesterday keep flooding back. I need a distraction.
I hobble back to the bathroom and take another long hot shower. The warm water cascading over my skin feels like a dream and my tense muscles relax a little. I remember the last shower before the accident at Oliver’s. He snuck in and made love to me under the hot water stream.
Butterflies fill my tummy. Can you fall for someone so quickly? I’m usually a lot more in control of my feelings. And I’m leaving in a few days. That thought makes me frown.
I try to clear my head by turning the water to cold. I read once that doing this is very healthy.
“Fuck,” I shout when the water goes from hot to ice cold in an instant. Yup, that’s not for me. I turn off the shower and wrap one of the fluffy towels around me.
A message is waiting for me on the phone when I get back.
Marisa
Lucky for you my husband is a morning person. I’m up now and can pick you up in thirty?
My heart starts beating faster. Time to see Oliver.
Buckingham Palace is a breeze to get into, compared to the bloody orthopaedic ward at the hospital. We are sent from one desk to the other and each time I’m asked what my relationship to Oliver is. A friend. I’m not sure how else to define us.
Eventually Marisa has enough and makes me text Hannah. Jake finds us at a vending machine where Marisa is stocking up on some chocolate bar that she apparently loves and can’t get in the shops anywhere.
“Mark my words, my husband will be sent here on a regular basis from now on,” she says through a mouthful of chocolate.
“Keeley!” Hannah exclaims as we step into the room. There are four beds in total. Three are occupied. Ols’ bed is at the far end next to the window, where he’s lying flat with his head held in place by straps.
I’m frozen and Marisa has to gently guide me forward, otherwise I would have stood rooted to the spot for the whole day.
“Hey, O-Dog,” Marisa smiles as she leans over him and ruffles his hair.
“Hey, Mars,” Oliver grins.
“You’ve looked better,” she jokes but there is an unusual darkness hiding in her eyes. She’s normally so carefree.
“I’ve felt better,” he winks. His skin is ashen and there are dark circles under his eyes.
“Have you both had breakfast?” Marisa asks Hannah. Jake’s standing next to her with his arm around her shoulder. She is leaning into this embrace and I can see that he gives her strength.
“That’s a fab idea. Why don’t we go for breakfast? We’ll be back soon, Ols.” Hannah places a tender kiss on his cheek before giving me a hug and leaving us.
“I can’t see you Keeley,” Oliver calls out to me. I slowly step closer until I can bend over him.
“Hi.” His eyes light up when he sees me.
“Hi,” I reply, feeling those pesky tears threaten to spill again. “Sorry,” I whisper, trying to hold them back.
“Hey, we’re both okay,” he says, his voice soothing as he tries to calm me.
“You call this okay?” I ask. Not helping, Keeley! The last thing he needs is for me to remind him that he’s immobilised in a hospital bed.
“Yes, actually,” he insists with a small smile. “Sure, I have a broken back—or, to use the fancy medical term, a vertebral compression fracture. But my spinal cord’s intact, so my legs won’t be affected. I’ll need to wear a back brace for a few weeks, but I can go home tomorrow. Given everything, I’d say that’s pretty okay.”
He’s right; it could have been so much worse.
“That’s great news.” I say, reaching out to cup his face but stopping myself. We’ve agreed to keep our affection private, though my emotional outburst might have raised a few eyebrows.
“Draw the curtain,” Oliver whispers. I pull the pale-yellow cloth around the bed, creating our own little sanctuary away from prying eyes. Once it’s just the two of us, I gently cup his face and kiss him, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.
I try to keep it brief, but the minute our lips connect a fire takes over. I dip my tongue into his mouth and when he slides his alongside mine, a fire spreads through my veins. A deep groan from his chest makes me move away abruptly.
“Shit, did I hurt you?”
“No. I just…, it feels good to kiss you.”
I grin and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Fucking hell, are these bruises from yesterday?” His eyes widen.
“No, I went to a boxing match last night,” I reply sarcastically before twisting and turning my arms above him so he can see all the bruises.
“I’m sorry,” his voice is small.
“No! No, it was an accident and I got off easy compared to you,” I try to reassure him, but he looks unconvinced. “What happens next?”
“They’re going to fit a back brace today. They want to monitor me with it overnight and then I can go home tomorrow. I’ll be stuck with it for eight to twelve weeks, but after a week of rest or so, I can start doing some work. I’ll have to take on someone else to cover my flights but I have a few people who would be interested.”
“Do you ever see just problems and not solutions?” I snort. Leave it to him to have sorted out his whole life whilst I slept.
“Yes. Yesterday, it was your determination that made all the difference. Your refusal to give up and your efforts to send a text message helped them find us as quickly as they did. I was ready to throw in the towel.”
“That was all fake,” I wave him off, “I had a complete meltdown afterwards and cried in Suzie’s arms.”
“What difference does that make? You were there in the moment that counted to step up and help save us. It’s only natural to have an emotional reaction once the pressure was off you.” Hmmm, I hadn’t thought of it like that.
“Can you do me a favour, please?” he asks.
“Sure, want me to get the doctor or—”
“Kiss me again.” A small smile appears on my lips before I press them to his. This time I control myself, but I realise I’ll miss him a lot.