Chapter 16
16
‘Everything okay?’ Wendy blurted out the question as soon as Gwen picked up her phone, the urgency in her voice obvious.
‘Yes, I’m fine, why?’
‘Because you were going to pick me up for the dance class.’ Her friend sounded confused. ‘You did say you would, didn’t you?’
‘Oh God, Wendy, I’m so sorry. It’s just that there’s been…’ She blinked frantically, trying to think up a possible reason why she’d forgotten the arrangement. But she’d already told Wendy everything was okay, so she could hardly invent some kind of domestic crisis. There had to be a rational explanation for why she’d not only forgotten to pick up her friend, but had forgotten the dance class altogether. The trouble was, there was no explanation that would cut it, and it scared the life out of her. ‘I’m sorry, I got distracted doing something else, but I’m on my way now and I’ll give Nicky a ring on the way over to let her know we’re running late. We’ll only miss the warmup, so it should be fine.’
‘Maybe for you,’ Wendy laughed, ‘but I’m like the tin man until my joints warm up. So, if I can’t work tomorrow, I might need to rope you in for a shift!’ Wendy was the head of housekeeping at St Piran’s and had recently joined one of the dance classes Gwen attended, in preparation for her upcoming wedding. She and her fiancé Gary, who was a nurse in the emergency department, were also having private lessons with Nicky to prepare for their first dance.
‘I’ll take you for a medicinal drink afterwards, you’ll be fine.’ Gwen attempted an upbeat tone, even though she felt anything but, and all she could do was hope that somehow she’d be fine too, despite the fact that the evidence suggesting otherwise was stacking up all too quickly.
* * *
One of the reasons Gwen enjoyed dancing so much was the endorphins it released. It didn’t matter whether it was belly dancing or ballroom, she always felt good once she started to move and, about twenty minutes into the class, her worries finally started to recede a little bit. Another thing she liked about the class was the inclusivity, and Nicky always found ways of making sure that everyone who wanted to come along could do so. A couple of the very elderly group members mostly enjoyed just watching, but they’d join in with a few parts of the class. Brenda was the oldest member of the group at eighty-six and she used either a walker or a wheelchair to get around, depending on how much her arthritis was flaring up on any given day. She always came to class wearing one of her many sparkly sequinned tops and she was a huge fan of Strictly Come Dancing, knowing the name of every dancer and all the celebrity winners. Brenda told Gwen that coming to Nicky’s classes was the highlight of her week, but she had no idea how much she raised everyone else’s spirits by joining in so enthusiastically when she could, and applauding everyone else wildly when she couldn’t. She’d just taken part in a Charleston-style dance, with lots of upper body movement, and she’d had a huge smile on her face the entire time.
‘That was so much fun, but I really need a wee now!’ Brenda’s cheeks flushed red as she spoke, and Gwen wasn’t sure whether it was from exertion or because she was having to ask for some help. Brenda’s daughter, Amanda, was her carer, and she’d dropped her off to the class, but she wouldn’t be back to pick her up for another thirty minutes.
‘I’ll take you.’ Even as Gwen made the offer, she could see the reluctance on Brenda’s face.
‘I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can’t always’ – Brenda lowered her tone and leaned in closer – ‘pull my own knickers back up.’
‘You can ask me and there’s nothing I haven’t seen in all my years as a midwife. All I want to know is whether your knickers are as sparkly as the rest of your outfit!’ Gwen gave Brenda a wink to put her at ease.
‘Sadly not, but as my daughter says, if there’s ever any danger of me falling off the toilet, I’ll be okay, because my knickers will act as a parachute!’ Brenda laughed and Gwen couldn’t help joining in. This dance class was turning out to be good for the soul for all kinds of reasons.
In the end, the trip to the bathroom passed without incident and there was no need to deploy Brenda’s parachute pants. It was a few minutes later when all the drama started. One of the other dancers, Julie, moved a bit too close to where Brenda was sitting watching, and caught the heel of her shoe on Brenda’s leg. Most people would have escaped with a simple scratch, but Brenda’s skin was paper thin and the heel of Julie’s shoe caught the surface of a varicose vein on the side of Brenda’s shin.
‘On my God, I’m so sorry.’ Julie blanched as she looked; there was blood everywhere and it was like the scene of a murder within a couple of seconds. ‘Someone help her, please, quickly!’
‘It’s okay.’ Brenda clamped a hand over the wound as Gwen reached them, sounding very matter of fact, despite the growing puddle of blood pooling around her wheelchair. ‘I always bleed like a stuck pig.’
‘Can I have a look?’ Gwen waited until Brenda nodded, before crouching down to look at the wound, but there was too much blood for her to see how serious it was.
‘I’ll get the first aid kit, do you think I should call an ambulance?’ Nicky widened her eyes as she took in the amount of blood.
‘It might be quicker for one of us to drive her in, depending on how bad the injury is. If you can grab me some paper towels, I might be able to stem the flow of blood for long enough to see how big the wound is.’
‘I’ll be right back.’ Nicky was true to her word and within a few moments she was back with the paper towels and a first aid kit that included several different sizes of dressings.
‘How are you doing Brenda? Does it hurt?’ Gwen looked at the older woman as she spoke, but Brenda shook her head.
‘A slight sting, but it’s nothing. I had four children, back in the day when painkillers were considered unnecessary!’
‘You’re made of tough stuff.’ Gwen smiled and then turned her attention back to Brenda’s leg. As she suspected, the wound was tiny, but because of the varicose vein it was mimicking an arterial bleed. As soon as the pressure on it was relieved the blood started spurting everywhere. It looked like the work of a serial killer.
‘It might stop bleeding eventually, but I think this is going to need cauterisation or maybe stitches.’ Gwen looked up at Brenda. ‘But if I dress the wound fairly tightly, we should be able to contain the bleeding for long enough to get you to the hospital. Otherwise we might end up on an episode of Crimewatch , because it’s going to look like I’ve tried to finish you off.’
‘Nothing will finish me off. All the illnesses I’ve had in the last ten years, I think I must be part cockroach!’ Brenda was still laughing, but poor Nicky looked white as a sheet as she leaned down to talk to Gwen again.
‘Are you sure we shouldn’t call an ambulance?’
‘It could be hours if we do that.’ Gwen turned towards Wendy, who was already busy mopping up the blood, as if she was at work. ‘Would you be okay to come with me and sit with Brenda in the back until we get to the hospital?’
‘Of course. We might just need to swap if the bleeding starts again. I’m okay with the clean-up, but I won’t be much use with anything medical.’
‘Worst case scenario, you’ll have to be like the little Dutch boy who plugs the dam with his finger.’ Gwen couldn’t help laughing again at the expression on Wendy’s face, reassured at how funny Brenda seemed to be finding the whole thing too, when a lot of people would probably be panicking. Brenda had clearly been through a lot in life, but it seemed laughter really might be the best medicine and it was something Gwen hadn’t done nearly enough of just lately. Helping people had always been like another form of medicine for Gwen and had allowed her to put her own problems into perspective. It was something she was determined to carry on doing for as long as she possibly could, and she just hoped nothing would come along and force her to stop.