this might have
on Bridget’s visit, but concern for Sam wasn’t far behind.
“OK Dorothy. I’d better get going.”
“I hope he’s OK,” she added as he strode out the department’s
entrance. He looked behind to wave an acknowledgement unaware Mary was about to
pass him. She kept her balance as they collided, but the coffee she was
carrying tipped over her tailored brown jacket.
“Look where you’re going for god’s sake.”
“Sorry Mary. At least it’s brown.”
“At least what’s brown?”
“Your jacket, when it’s dry you’ll hardly be able to see a
mark.”
She looked furious.
David continued. “I was joking. I’ll pay for the dry
cleaning of course, it was completely my fault.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I’ve already said it was.” Her look of disdain remained
ferocious, but David was learning how to cope with her tirades and gave her a
defiant look.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “I have some cases I
need to go through with you.”
“Sorry, can’t now Mary. My son’s in A&E.”
David didn’t wait to see or hear a reaction.
He drove to the hospital deep in thought, plotting how
the evening’s rendezvous would be able to go ahead whatever Sam’s condition. When
he arrived at the casualty department, Sam was in the waiting room wearing his
shiny navy blue track suit and one trainer, the other foot bare. A teacher
wearing similar sports gear was by his side. Both were reading tattered Top
Gear magazines.
Sam looked up and smiled as he approached. “Hi, dad.”
The teacher stood. “Hello, Mr Willoughby, thank you for
getting here so quickly. We were playing football and Sam went over heavily
when he was tackled. His leg swelled up quite a bit. We put an ice pack on but
thought it best to have it checked out.”
“Sorry, dad,” Sam added.
“OK Sam, it’s not your fault. Does it hurt a lot?”
“Not really, but my leg’s got bigger.” He pulled up his
trouser leg. “Look.”
“What did the doctor say?”
The teacher took over. “We’ve been here for over an hour.
A nurse had a preliminary look, but we’re still waiting for a doctor. Apparently
there’s been a coach crash and they’re busy dealing with that.”
“Well now I’m here there’s no need for you to stay, Mr…”
“Barnes, Noel Barnes.”
“You might as well head off, Noel. Thanks for bringing
him.”
“Yes. Thank you, sir,” Sam added.
“I will go if that’s all right with you. Good luck, Sam,
hope to see you back in school tomorrow.”
The wait was a long one, almost another hour before the
X-ray then a further thirty minutes before being seen by the enthusiastic,
moon-faced doctor who looked far too young to be a medic. Fortunately there was
no break, just a bad sprain, resulting in another wait until a nurse applied a
bandage. David’s concern grew as it got nearer and nearer to Bridget’s arrival
time. They got home well after 5.00 pm and it was clear he wouldn’t have time
to get food before she arrived.
There was a ring of the doorbell on the dot of 5.30, by
which time Sam was sitting on the sofa in the lounge with his left leg propped
up, watching TV. Rachel was in her bedroom listening to Jay-Z and doing
homework. David had searched kitchen cupboards in the futile hope that Jane,
and ardent carnivore, had a hidden supply of vegetarian delights. A tin of
baked beans and a packet of frozen chips was all he would be able to offer.
The guests stood in the hall while David called up to
Rachel. At the third attempt she came downstairs to be introduced,
disappointing David with an ice cold greeting. They trooped into the lounge to
meet Sam who was cheerful enough in explaining what had happened. Neighbours was on and David suggested the children remain viewing while he and Bridget
went to the kitchen to sort things out. Once alone with her, he explained the
dilemma.
“Not a problem,” Bridget said. “You stay here with the
kids and I’ll go and get the food.”
“But
on Bridget’s visit, but concern for Sam wasn’t far behind.
“OK Dorothy. I’d better get going.”
“I hope he’s OK,” she added as he strode out the department’s
entrance. He looked behind to wave an acknowledgement unaware Mary was about to
pass him. She kept her balance as they collided, but the coffee she was
carrying tipped over her tailored brown jacket.
“Look where you’re going for god’s sake.”
“Sorry Mary. At least it’s brown.”
“At least what’s brown?”
“Your jacket, when it’s dry you’ll hardly be able to see a
mark.”
She looked furious.
David continued. “I was joking. I’ll pay for the dry
cleaning of course, it was completely my fault.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I’ve already said it was.” Her look of disdain remained
ferocious, but David was learning how to cope with her tirades and gave her a
defiant look.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “I have some cases I
need to go through with you.”
“Sorry, can’t now Mary. My son’s in A&E.”
David didn’t wait to see or hear a reaction.
He drove to the hospital deep in thought, plotting how
the evening’s rendezvous would be able to go ahead whatever Sam’s condition. When
he arrived at the casualty department, Sam was in the waiting room wearing his
shiny navy blue track suit and one trainer, the other foot bare. A teacher
wearing similar sports gear was by his side. Both were reading tattered Top
Gear magazines.
Sam looked up and smiled as he approached. “Hi, dad.”
The teacher stood. “Hello, Mr Willoughby, thank you for
getting here so quickly. We were playing football and Sam went over heavily
when he was tackled. His leg swelled up quite a bit. We put an ice pack on but
thought it best to have it checked out.”
“Sorry, dad,” Sam added.
“OK Sam, it’s not your fault. Does it hurt a lot?”
“Not really, but my leg’s got bigger.” He pulled up his
trouser leg. “Look.”
“What did the doctor say?”
The teacher took over. “We’ve been here for over an hour.
A nurse had a preliminary look, but we’re still waiting for a doctor. Apparently
there’s been a coach crash and they’re busy dealing with that.”
“Well now I’m here there’s no need for you to stay, Mr…”
“Barnes, Noel Barnes.”
“You might as well head off, Noel. Thanks for bringing
him.”
“Yes. Thank you, sir,” Sam added.
“I will go if that’s all right with you. Good luck, Sam,
hope to see you back in school tomorrow.”
The wait was a long one, almost another hour before the
X-ray then a further thirty minutes before being seen by the enthusiastic,
moon-faced doctor who looked far too young to be a medic. Fortunately there was
no break, just a bad sprain, resulting in another wait until a nurse applied a
bandage. David’s concern grew as it got nearer and nearer to Bridget’s arrival
time. They got home well after 5.00 pm and it was clear he wouldn’t have time
to get food before she arrived.
There was a ring of the doorbell on the dot of 5.30, by
which time Sam was sitting on the sofa in the lounge with his left leg propped
up, watching TV. Rachel was in her bedroom listening to Jay-Z and doing
homework. David had searched kitchen cupboards in the futile hope that Jane,
and ardent carnivore, had a hidden supply of vegetarian delights. A tin of
baked beans and a packet of frozen chips was all he would be able to offer.
The guests stood in the hall while David called up to
Rachel. At the third attempt she came downstairs to be introduced,
disappointing David with an ice cold greeting. They trooped into the lounge to
meet Sam who was cheerful enough in explaining what had happened. Neighbours was on and David suggested the children remain viewing while he and Bridget
went to the kitchen to sort things out. Once alone with her, he explained the
dilemma.
“Not a problem,” Bridget said. “You stay here with the
kids and I’ll go and get the food.”
“But
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