The Elephant Girl(128)
He glanced at his arm which a paramedic had put in a make-shift sling. ‘Will heal.’
‘And Charlie?’
He held her close, wincing as he did so. ‘Helen, my love, she’s pretty bad. They’re taking her off to hospital now, but you have to prepare yourself for—’
‘No! I won’t hear it!’
‘Okay, okay. We’ll make her better. No matter what happens, we’ll be there. We’re not giving up without a fight. Charlie wouldn’t, so we’re not going to either.’ Cradling her in his good arm, he hugged her close. ‘We’ll make it better,’ he repeated.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Are you sure you don’t want us to knock you out?’ asked the doctor. ‘We’ll need to dig into your arm to get the bullet out.’
Jason leaned back on the bed in the treatment room and shook his head. ‘Just a local, please.’
He and Helen had ridden in the same ambulance to the nearest Accident & Emergency hospital and she’d filled him in on quite a lot, but they’d been separated on arrival. She’d been whisked away to be treated in whichever way an epileptic was treated – he had no idea what they were doing to her right now – and he was in a small treatment room worrying himself sick. For her and for Charlie.
No one had mentioned Charlie at all.
He winced as the triage nurse removed the temporary sling holding his injured arm in a position across his chest. The painkiller the paramedics had given him at the warehouse was wearing off.
‘Aww, shit!’ he groaned when the nurse cut open the sleeve of his jumper. She sent him an apologetic smile and gave him an injection near the wound. Immediately he felt a spreading numbness in his arm and began to relax. Turning his head away, he allowed the doctor to do her thing. She worked efficiently, barking curt orders to the nurse, and it wasn’t long before he heard the clunk of metal in a dish.
‘There, we’ll just get you cleaned up now,’ said the doctor cheerfully. ‘Then I’d recommend we give you a sedative.’
‘What happened to the woman I came in with? Her name’s Helen.’ He wanted to ask about Charlie too, but didn’t for fear of getting an answer he didn’t want to hear.
The doctor smiled. ‘I’ll find out for you, shall I. Won’t be long.’
She left the room in a swish of her white coat, her stethoscope dangling like an avant-garde necklace, and Jason let the nurse bandage his arm.
‘You were lucky,’ she said. Her dark almond-shaped eyes regarded him thoughtfully. ‘A bit further down and to your right, it would’ve gone into your heart.’
‘I know. Lucky is my middle name.’
The doctor returned, and behind her was Helen, pale and shaky, but otherwise in one piece. Jason heaved a quiet sigh of relief.
‘Here she is. I’ll leave you to it. Other patients, et cetera.’
The nurse followed the doctor out, saying she’d be back in a moment, and it was then Jason noticed a raised welt across Helen’s throat. He swallowed hard. He’d come so close to losing … No, he wouldn’t think of that now. Instead he held out his good arm, and she slid into the one-armed embrace without a word. They’d both been very lucky.
He sent her a questioning look. ‘Charlie?’
She shook her head. ‘Her liver is ruptured, and the trauma … it’s proving too much for her. They’re not sure if she’ll live.’ Her voice was hoarse.
‘No.’ Burying his face in her hair, he clenched his good fist and screwed up his eyes to hold back the tears. ‘No!’
She clung to him with no hang-ups about her own tears. He held her close, stroking her hair, her shoulders, her cheek, and tried to soothe her with reassuring words. Helen had been deprived of so much in her life, and despite the shock that they might lose Charlie too, a gaping hole in his chest, he wasn’t fooling himself into believing he knew how that felt. Not by a long shot.
Instead he gave her what he knew she needed, his strength, realising only now that he’d always had plenty of it.
Eventually her sobbing subsided, and she pulled away. Her lips trembled as she met his eyes directly. ‘It’s my fault.’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘It is. I kept digging and digging, just wouldn’t let it go.’
‘Look, Charlie was …’ He paused, pulled up short by his own use of the past tense. God, it hurt so damned much he almost lost the thread of what he wanted to say. ‘She’s unstoppable. Once she has the bit between her teeth, well, forget it. She thrives on risks, on doing crazy stuff. Not thinking before she acts.’