Gentleman Sinner

Another jump. ‘Oh my God,’ I breathe, tripping over my feet to get to the bed. My dark world gets an injection of life. Another jump. I grab Theo’s hand, stroking at his sallow cheeks. ‘Theo.’

‘Fucking hell,’ the nurse breathes, and I look to him, my eyes welling. He looks like a ghost. ‘I can’t believe it.’ He staggers back, scrubbing his hands down his face.

‘I told you,’ I say, trying not to get too far ahead of myself. I just knew it. I knew he was strong. There’s a burst of activity behind me, and I look back to see most of the staff have returned, all of them taking in the scene before looking at the heart monitor. I follow their stares and see a regular, strengthening beat. I cough over a sob, snivelling as I place my palm over his heart and his tattoo, and feel the beats, too.

Urgency springs into the nurses and they all crowd around, pulling machinery from here and there, and trollies loaded with medical equipment. When one grabs Theo’s arm, he jerks violently, and she curses, dropping the needle she’s trying to get into the back of his hand. She’ll never get that line in. ‘He doesn’t like being touched,’ I say, watching her throw the needle in a medical waste bin and grab another from a new, sterilized packet. She looks at my hand on Theo’s chest. ‘Except by me,’ I add, my elation lifting more. He’s unconscious, yet he still knows it’s me. His movements when I touched him before weren’t just because I was touching him. He was speaking to me when he couldn’t talk. ‘I’m a nurse,’ I explain, removing one hand from Theo and indicating down my front to my uniform. ‘I work here. I can do that.’

She peeks up at me before going back to Theo’s hand and trying again. ‘Thanks, but I’ve got it.’ He jerks again, and she curses, tossing yet another wasted needle into the yellow bin after she’s picked it up from the floor.

I gather myself, trying not to lose my patience, and circle the bed, collecting a needle. ‘We haven’t got time for your over-grown ego,’ I mutter, grabbing some gloves and pulling them on quickly. I take Theo’s arm, and he doesn’t even flinch. I slide the needle into the back of his hand, hitting the spot the first time. Blood gushes into the capped vial, and I breathe out, holding my hand out for the plaster. ‘Thank you,’ I say, placing it over the cannula and resting his arm by his side. ‘When you connect the line, don’t touch him.’ I make my way around the bed again, to another nurse, who has just pulled in a trolley loaded with everything she needs to take his vitals.

She smiles at me, though it’s tinged with sadness. ‘The doctor’s on her way. I’m sure you don’t need them to tell you that there’s a high chance of brain damage.’

I return her small smile, turning to Theo. ‘He’s going to be fine,’ I say, because there’s no doubt in my mind that he will be. He knows I’m here. He felt my touch. He fought harder for me. He’s going to be fine.

The nurse moves in and peels his eyelid back, holding her light up. And as I knew he would, he moves, hampering her. She huffs and tries again, getting the same result. ‘He’s a fidget, isn’t he?’

I smile and take over her duties, assessing and noting all of Theo’s vitals without interference from any of the on-duty staff, nor from Theo. He remains unmoving. He’s still out cold. But I know he’s with me.*Leaving the staff to organize Theo’s scans, X-rays, and transfer to ICU, I wander out of the cubicle in a bit of a daze, my adrenaline fading. I feel wiped out. Pressing my back up against the wall out-side the resuscitation unit, I look up to the bright, tubular lights and take a moment to gather myself. To try to comprehend what has just happened. But despite my overwhelming relief and happiness, I still break down. Rivers of tears pour down my cheeks as I try to process it all. It’s going to take some time. I was meant to work those unusually long three hours over my shift. I was meant to exit the hospital via Casualty. I was meant to be there when the ambulance arrived with Theo’s dying body.

The sounds of protest hit me from the side, and I look down the corridor, seeing a team of nurses fighting with the drunken man who forced me to step in, to approach the bed Theo was being carried in on so I could help clear the paramedics’ path. I would never have gotten close enough to the bed to see Theo had that drunk not bowled aimlessly in front of them. That inebriated man was supposed to be there. He was supposed to cause havoc.