Chapter 42
‘Can you hear me?’
She was in a vehicle. Moving. The cab. She must have fallen asleep.
‘If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.’
Why would the cab driver be holding her hand? Perhaps it was some new service. Like getting your name on a cup at Starbucks. How nice. She squeezed the hand.
‘Okay, that’s good.’
She really was very tired though. Perhaps just another five minu— but hang on, if the cab driver was holding her hand, how were they driving? She tried to open her eyes, but it was like her eyelashes had weights on them.
‘You’re going to be okay,’ came the voice. A woman’s. There really weren’t enough female cab drivers in London.
‘We’re getting you to the hospital.’
The hospital? She hoped it wasn’t too far out of the way. She really wasn’t sure how much cash she had in the flat. Wait, why the hell would they be going to the hospital? And then she felt it: the searing pain at the top of her skull, like someone was trying to scoop her brains out with a rusty spoon. She tried her eyelids again. This time they half opened, revealing a green overall-clad woman bending over her.
‘You had a fall. Got a nasty cut to your head.’
She struggled to sit up, gripped by a sudden panic.
‘Woah, easy. Let me help you.’
She got upright. Her top was covered in blood. She felt for the cut, but the woman stayed her hand.
‘Probably best not to. But don’t worry, we’re not far away now; they’ll get you sorted.’
The events leading up to her fall came back in a rush. She wished she’d stayed unconscious.
‘I lost my phone,’ she said.
‘Is there anyone you’d like me to contact?’ the paramedic asked. ‘Your next of kin?’
She fixed her gaze on the woman’s kind eyes. She was older, but not by much.
‘No.’ She suddenly felt very small. ‘There’s no one.’