Chapter 13
The Odds Are High
Rose:
Any news? Natalie is asleep so no need to worry
Holly:
Still waiting… and there is a woman wandering
around in what looks like an outfit from The Rocky Horror Show
with her hand in an oven mitt. I’m avoiding all eye contact
Rose:
At least you’re getting some free entertainment
Update me when you get seen
Holly:
Will do
‘Everything OK with Tally?’ Seb’s soothing voice brushed her ear as he lent his head to rest on the back of the waiting room chair.
The action brought them close together. Which was necessary - they’d quickly discovered that any conversations here needed to be whispered.
Otherwise Rocky-Horror-Mitt-Woman would be alerted.
She had the social graces of a toddler and assumed any conversation was either about her, or needed to include her.
‘Fast asleep. You really don’t need to stay, Seb,’ Holly tried for the third time, ‘I can just call a taxi when I’m ready to go home.’
Ignoring her suggestion, like he had the two previous times she’d tried to get him to leave, Seb closed his eyes as he relaxed as much as was possible in the hard plastic chairs.
‘Really, Seb, I’m sure everything is fine,’ she lied.
‘Miss Holly Loxley?’ A dispassionate voice called from the doorway that stood between the waiting area and the Urgent Treat Centre’s assessment cubicles.
Holly swallowed hard, as she steeled herself to get up and make it across the waiting room.
Back at the pub, whilst she had waited for Seb to arrive, Holly had tried to stand up again.
The pain had ripped through her. It had taken all her strength not to vomit; the nausea had swept through her in a hot, sweaty wave.
Even with Seb’s help, it had taken her five minutes to make it from the kitchen to his car; that he’d parked directly outside the pub. The short walk had felt like miles.
She gripped the arms of her chair, and made to stand up. But Seb had other ideas. In a move she hadn’t been expecting, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the waiting nurse.
‘Seb, what are you doing? Put me down!’ she spluttered out, the embarrassment flushing across her face.
‘Cut it out, Holly. You’re in no fit state to walk across this room. I saw what walking to my car did and I’m not watching you go through that again,’ he bit out, still in that hushed tone so only she could hear him.
‘You could have found a wheelchair.’
‘Looked. All being used. Now shut up and let me be dashing and helpful,’ his voice started to falter.
‘Struggling?’
‘No.’
‘Good, because I’m in no mood to receive any suggestions that I’m too heavy to carry now you’ve committed yourself.’
‘Wouldn’t - dream - of - it,’ he wheezed out theatrically.
‘OK, now I know you’re faking it. I’m not that heavy.’
‘Whatever you need to tell your– ow, did you pinch me?’
And despite the pain, and the embarrassment she was currently experiencing, she laughed.
‘Was totally worth it,’ he said.
‘What was?’
‘You don’t laugh enough, Holly. So if pinching me brings you joy, knock yourself out.’
‘Sir, is that really necessary?’ the nurse’s haughty voice cut in. ‘She should be on her feet and walking by herself.’
‘It really hurts if I stand on it,’ Holly offered in way of explanation for Seb’s over the top gesture.
The nurse tutted before asking, ‘Can you talk me through what happened?’ She nodded to a bed in a small curtained cubicle in the assessment area as Seb set her down and moved aside.
‘I fell off a stool in my kitchen–ow!’ Pain shot up her leg as the nurse pushed down on her ankle.
‘There’s very little swelling. Most likely a sprain from a fall like that,’ the nurse said dismissively. ‘Rest and elevate for a couple of days, but keep moving around on it. Otherwise it’ll seize up.’ She stood, and turned to leave.
‘She needs an X-ray,’ Seb stated.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Apology accepted, Nurse,’ he studied her badge and then added, ‘Grace. But she needs an X-ray.’
‘She doesn’t meet the threshold for one.’
‘It’s OK, Seb. I’m sure she’s right.’ Holly acquiesced; shying away from the threat of conflict.
‘Can I speak with the supervising doctor please?’ Seb ignored Holly.
Nurse Grace tutted, but stalked off to speak to someone.
Holly waited a couple of minutes until the silence between them became too much.
‘Was that really necessary?’ she hissed out, ‘I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.’
‘Yes,’ was all he offered back.
‘Seb–’ but whatever she was going to say was cut short by Grace returning with a wheelchair. It seemed Seb had got his way, and she was off for her X-ray.
*
‘It’s a pilon fracture of the distal tibia,’ Grace explained thirty minutes later.
Gone was the irritated nurse, and in her place was someone who was the picture of kindness and compassion.
‘It presents differently to a usual break, which is why a sprain was assumed. It’s often the result of a high-impact injury - snowboarding, car accidents… not falling off a stool.’
Holly’s head was swimming with all the information; plaster casts, six weeks, no weight bearing, possible surgery.
This was bad. So bad. Grace had pulled up the X-ray and was pointing things out like any of it made any sense to Holly.
And then she was gone and a different nurse bustled into her curtained cubicle.
‘Hi, Holly. I’m Gavin. I’ll be doing the cast.’
Holly nodded.
‘I’m afraid I need to cut these jeans.’
His pitying words snapped Holly out of her daze. She was wearing her favourite FatFace jeans.
‘Can’t we just roll them up?’
‘Afraid not. Then you’ll be stuck in them for weeks - once this cast is on, you won’t be able to get the jeans over it. So it’s either cut them off now or after. But either way, it’s got to be done.’
And that did it. She hadn’t cried when she’d opened her eyes to Natalie’s worried face on the floor of the pub.
She hadn’t cried when trying to get into Seb’s car.
She hadn’t cried when Grace had confirmed her worst fears.
But as Gavin cut through her recycled denim jeans, silent tears tracked down her face.
Her phone buzzed from the chair beside her. Grasping for the distractions it offered, she fished it out from the bag Rose had packed for her when she’d come to pick up Natalie.
Owen:
Exciting news. Cornwall has confirmed everything is in place.
So I’m heading down tomorrow.
It’s been fun re-connecting Hols.
Catch up next time I’m home?
Holly clicked out of her messages and allowed herself to wallow.
It was like the universe had it in for her.
A broken ankle wasn’t enough of a shit show.
Let’s chuck in your favourite jeans being cut off you, and your crush leaving you for Cornwall with a cheery message.
She stopped listening to all the information Gavin was still trying to impart, and gave in to the disappointment that was her life.
Holly’s mind was still wandering when Gavin left the cubicle and Seb’s head popped through the curtains.
‘Ready to go home?’
She nodded. She didn’t say anything when Seb carefully scooped her up from the bed and gently eased her back into the wheelchair.
She didn’t say anything on the drive home, or when they arrived outside the pub.
She didn’t say anything when he set up a bed for her downstairs in the office, or when he got her a drink.
It was as if her voice had just left her.
*
He must have said goodbye because the next sound she heard was the pub door clicking shut. In the silence that enveloped her, she sobbed. And that was how Rose and Luke found her a few minutes later.
‘Rose, can you go and sort some clothes out for Holly please?’ her brother asked as he knelt down and pulled her, carefully, into a fierce hug.
‘It’s going to be OK. We’ll sort this,’ he said as his arms tightened around her.
‘What… so you’re a surgeon now?’ she managed to say between sobs.
‘Good to see you’ve still got your sharp wit,’ Luke stroked her hair away from her eyes. ‘Jeez, you look awful.’
‘You’re supposed to be cheering me up.’ But she laughed anyway.
‘Cheering you up, yes. Lying to you - no.’ He dodged her slap, before looking at her seriously as adding, ‘Seriously though, I know it’s not going to be easy. But between me, Seb, Rose, and Lucy, we’ve got this.’
Holly didn’t know why she said her next words. Maybe she wanted to be miserable. Or maybe it was too painful now Owen was gone. Whatever the reason, though, she said them just as Seb had slipped in through the pub doors with a sleeping Natalie in his arms.
‘I don’t want him in the pub anymore, Luke.’
‘Who?’ he asked, totally confused.
‘Seb. There’s plenty to keep him busy at the micro brewery in the run up to our next season’s ale. I’m going to close the kitchen until I find a replacement chef.’
‘Why? That doesn’t make any sense, Holly.’
Up until then neither had heard Seb enter the pub, but they both turned towards the sound of Rose’s sharp inhale as she witnessed the scene from the stairs.
Wordlessly Seb handed Natalie to Rose, then turned and left.
Holly had seen the hurt on his face at her words.
But she stood by them. He’d been amazing tonight.
Just who she’d needed. But that made it all a hundred times worse.
It hurt having him around, but not having him.
‘Holly, I know he hurt you on your birthday, but this isn’t about that still, is it?’ Luke whispered, keeping his question only for her ears. When she didn’t correct him, he wiped a hand down his face. ‘That was twelve years ago.’
‘Doesn’t feel like it was twelve years ago, Luke. It feels like it was last week.’
And because she didn’t want any more conversations, she turned her back to him as she curled herself under the covers of her makeshift bed, and tried to go to sleep.
*
Rose:
Tony told me Owen’s left for Cornwall. I’m sorry
Holly:
It’s OK
Rose:
Is it?
Holly:
…
No. But it will be
Rose:
I’ve still got five months left
Plenty of time to find you someone
Holly:
Someone who has a thing for casts?
Rose:
You joke, but I bet that’s a kink
Holly:
Eugh. No. Not going there
Rose:
You brought it up
Holly:
Not sure I can face dating
Rose:
How about one a month?
Holly:
Maybe…
Rose:
Great. I’ve got your July date all ready.
Holly clicked out of WhatsApp and opened up the fortune telling app instead. She made a mental note to ask Rose to get her cube down from her bedroom tomorrow. The app was fine, but Holly didn’t trust it the same way she did the physical cube. Right now though, needs must.
‘Am I going to cope with this?’
Hope soared in Holly’s heart as the screen transitioned to show the words The Odds Are High. She desperately wanted to believe this, and as she drifted off to sleep on a makeshift bed in her office, there was a slither of belief that this wasn’t going to be as horrific as she assumed.
*
It only felt like she’d closed her eyes for a few seconds, but it must have been longer because when she opened her eyes, Natalie’s face was practically touching hers.
Her blue eyes staring at Holly’s intently.
Light was streaming in from the window, which meant it was morning at least. But Holly couldn’t see what had happened to her phone to check whether it was a reasonable hour for her daughter to be up and out of bed yet.
‘Does it hurt?’ Natalie asked as soon as she noticed she was awake.
‘It’s a bit sore, but it’s OK.’
‘Like when I cut my knee?’
It was nothing like that at all, but Holly nodded.
‘Can I draw on it?’ Natalie asked, pointing at Holly’s cast with one hand and lifting up her red bucket with the other. Holly could just make out, that today, it was full of felt tip pens.
‘It’s called a cast. C-a-s-t,’ Holly sounded out the word to Natalie, and smiled as her daughter played around with saying the word correctly.
‘Of course you can. But nice drawings please? Nothing scary.’
As Natalie got to work on her masterpiece, Holly heard the pub door open and Lucy’s voice called out, ‘Morning,’ a few seconds later.
‘In the office,’ Holly called back and pulled herself up, dragging her heavy leg up the bed with her hands.
Natalie protested loudly, as her pink pen went in the wrong direction. ‘Mummy,’ she admonished, ‘stay still.’
‘Sorry, darling. I’ll stay put now.’
Lucy’s face appeared at the door.
‘Oh, Holly. Rose got me up to speed this morning.’ She nodded to the cast.
‘Pretty, shit,’ Holly agreed.
Natalie giggled at Holly’s use of Danny’s favourite word.
‘I think I’ve got a plan that might make things easier,’ Lucy said, but her voice had an uncertain edge to it.
‘I’m all ears,’ Holly said as Natalie emptied her bucket of pens over the floor to find the one she wanted next.
Lucy tiptoed over them, and settled herself in a chair by the desk.
‘Working at the pub has given me the thinking space I’ve needed to get my head together about me and Tony.
I’ve filed the divorce papers.’ At Holly’s attempt to say something, Lucy put a hand up, ‘No words needed. It’s definitely the right decision.
And the space has helped Tony too, I think.
Me not being around so much, has been good for him - whether he realises it or not.
I think the next best thing for him would be for me to move out.
I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare room here? ’
At Lucy’s hopeful face, Holly couldn’t help but smile a little.
‘You want to move in here with us?’ she gestured to the cast and her Tasmanian devil of a daughter, who was now furiously drawing what Holly assumed was a unicorn on the dried plaster that encased her lower left leg and foot.
‘I would love to. If you’ll have me?’
‘If we’ll have you? You’re a knight in shining armour, Lucy. Of course we’ll have you.’