Chapter Eleven
The Big Thaw
Six Weeks Later – Valentine’s Day
‘HURRY UP, WILL YOU?’ Quinn moaned from the front doorstep as I checked my bag to make sure I had my wallet and keys. ‘I’m freezing to death.’
‘You lived in New York, with the icy blast of Atlantic winds sweeping through it. A foot of Dilbury snow should feel like summertime to you,’ I said, shaking my head as I turned to face her. She was hopping from foot to foot and rubbing her leather-clad hands, completely muffled up with one of Daphne’s knitted bobble hats and a matching scarf. She’d even forgone her trademark thick knitted tights and mini skirt for a pair of jeans with her heavy boots. ‘Anyway, why am I coming kitchen shopping with you? I’m the last person to be giving advice on kitchens, I don’t even use my own.’
‘Because Miller and Abbie are away, Georgie is all loved up with Weston, and you’re my new BFF, so you’re stuck with me.’
‘Fine, but we’re going to stop at The Cock on the way back and dinner and drinks are on you, now that you have a new fancy salary, Quinn Wedding Planner Garcia,’ I told her.
‘Not yet, I don’t,’ she replied, a curl of white appearing in front of her mouth as she breathed out. ‘I don’t start until April.’
‘Whatever. Your brother’s a gazillionnaire, you can afford dinner,’ I teased her as I turned to lock the front door.
‘He might have bought me the cottage, but he doesn’t throw money my way, you know. He’s not extravagant with it.’
‘Hmmm, the cars and houses in two countries, private plane, and helicopter beg to differ. He’s the kind of guy my readers go crazy over.’
‘You think? I’m kinda over the whole “rich guy with issues” books.’
‘You’ll love my newest one then,’ I said. ‘I’m so excited, it’s abo–’ I shrieked as I stepped onto the path and my foot shot out from under me on a patch of ice. ‘Quinn!’ I squealed as I felt myself tipping backwards, and I reached out a hand to grab her to steady myself. I missed and went down with a thud, landing right on the edge of the raised doorstep with a force that rattled my bones. ‘Owww.’
‘You ok?’ Quinn laughed, offering me her hand.
‘No, my legs have gone to jelly and my arse is throbbing,’ I complained, wincing as she pulled me up.
‘Arse. Arse. Arse. Arse. Arrrrse,’ Quinn repeated in a variety of accents and styles, making me laugh. ‘It still doesn’t sound right.’
‘Whereas “tushy” or “ass” has that air of refined elegance? And don’t even start me on fanny pack, that’s a whole other level of wrong,’ I said, clinging to her arm as we trudged across the treacherous terrain of my path towards the drive. Her boots were so much better equipped to grip than mine were.
‘Well, it is wrong when you know what fanny stands for over here, but on the flip side, I nearly choked on my coffee the first time Daphne asked how your pussy was doing. Especially when she asked if the hair had regrown after being shaved and if it had its appetite back,’ she grinned, making me laugh again.
‘Poor Mrs. Tibbles, she did look a sight with her pink skin on display,’ I nodded. She’d been attacked by one of the most vicious farm tomcats, who was known in the village for terrorising everyone’s pets. But by all accounts, he’d come out far worse from the ordeal than Tibbs. She’d had an infected bite on her side that had to be shaved and stitched, whereas he’d been taken to the vets missing half an ear, with a swollen and badly bitten tail, numerous bald patches, and a set of claw marks across his nose that were likely to scar. I’d never been prouder of my girl for standing up for herself.
We made it to my car in one piece and I winced as I climbed in and sat down. I’d really hurt my bottom and the base of my spine with that fall. I quickly put on the heated seats for both of us and started the engine. Quinn cranked up the heating, angling all of the vents in reach towards her, and I shook my head.
She’d settled in here so well, having taken up residence in Abbie’s spare room while the renovations on Daphne’s old cottage were carried out. Each Saturday night, she’d come and stay with me to give Miller and Abbie some alone time. We’d had a few more entertaining girls’ nights out, which had led to Andy the taxi driver refusing to accept bookings from us for our return journey. Daphne had given us the feedback, from the Dilbury rumour mill, that we were too raucous and our drunken topics of conversation had interfered with his pacemaker. She’d decided if the conversation was that spicy, she wanted to come on the next night out.
I eased my car out of the drive and slowly made my way up the snowy lane. It was treacherous, and I felt the car sliding a few times. Quinn chuckled to herself when I had to take a couple of runs at getting up the incline from the church to the main road, which didn’t look much better than the lane, despite the council sending gritters out every morning and night since we got caught in this cold snap. I loved this weather when I was in my cottage with the fire roaring and I could look out at the beautiful view. Driving in it, in a sports car that wasn’t designed for snow, was another matter.
‘You ok?’ Quinn asked as we made it out of Dilbury, which had never looked more picturesque, coated in a blanket of snow with smoke curling out of all the chimney tops, and headed towards Shrewsbury. ‘You keep frowning.’
‘I’m trying to concentrate, the road is slippery, and I have a weird sensation in my bottom.’
‘You know you’re supposed to remove a butt plug, right?’
‘It’s not a butt plug,’ I uttered, swatting her arm as she teased me. ‘It’s going numb, my … lady parts are as well.’
‘Really?’ Her grin morphed into a frown. ‘That doesn’t sound good, but then you did go down kinda hard. Have you broken something?’
‘I don’t think you can your break your arse or … fanny,’ I scoffed, shifting in my seat as the weird tingling sensation continued to spread.
‘I don’t know. You didn’t meet my ex,’ she chuckled. ‘You’ve probably bruised your coccyx.’
‘Did you say that to him after?’ We both burst out laughing and she shook her head, but her smile faded quickly and she turned her head to stare out of the passenger window. ‘Do you miss him?’
‘No.’ Her response was too fast and sharp.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘Not really. I don’t do all that emotional chick-bonding crap,’ she said brusquely, not looking over at me.
‘Did you love him?’
‘I’m not capable of love anymore, not for guys anyway. He was … you know what, I’m not in the mood to talk about him. He’s there, I’m here, we’re over. Nothing more to say.’
‘Ok, I hear you.’ If it had been anyone other than Quinn, I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, as it was obvious there was a story there. Much as I’d love to get her to open up though, we were still fairly new friends. I already trusted her, but I got that with her past, my trust would have to be earned before she’d even consider sharing. And she might never want to anyway. Being brought up in foster care, abandoned by the people who were supposed to love and take care of you, was likely to make any kid emotionally withdrawn. She’d been self-sufficient for so long out of necessity. I wasn’t offended, I just hurt so much for her. ‘Quinn?’
‘I don’t mean to be a bitch, Charlie, but I said there was nothing more to say.’
‘I know, it’s just … I don’t think I should be driving,’ I said as I started to slow the car down on one of the long stretches of road. ‘I’m really losing sensation and it’s spreading.’
‘Pull over, now,’ she said firmly, quickly looking over at me. ‘You could have slipped a disc or something. We need to get you checked out. How far is your ER?’
‘About six miles. I’m sure it’s nothing, I’ve probably just bruised myself badly, but I don’t want to risk driving, just in case.’
‘If you’re losing feeling that fast, it’s serious. Pull over, I’ll get us there.’
‘Have you ever driven over here?’ I asked, gradually bringing the car to a halt and putting on my hazard lights.
‘No, but I’ve driven back home. How different can it be?’
‘Well, for a start, there’s the whole “other side of the road” thing,’ I pointed out, wondering if she’d really not noticed that minor detail.
‘Oh right. Yeah well, you can just remind me if I do something wrong. Wait for me, I don’t want you falling over again. I’ll come get you and walk you around.’
I sighed and nodded my agreement. Seriously, I was off to the hospital again? I smiled at the thought that I might see McFitty again, and I quickly angled the rearview mirror to check how I looked. I’d made a bit of an effort as we were going to some of the posh bespoke kitchen showrooms, so that was a bonus.
Five minutes later, Quinn virtually wheel span away from the hedge, the back end of my car sliding.
‘Hey, slow down. She doesn’t like snow or ice, much like her owner,’ I warned her. ‘Plus checking your mirrors before you pull out and using an indicator tends to be compulsory around here.’ I winced at the crunch of my gears and the potential whiplash as she jerked the car along the road instead of driving smoothly.
‘I hate stick shift,’ she growled. ‘I always drive an automatic.’
‘You didn’t think that was worth mentioning before you got in the driver’s seat?’ I asked with an eye roll. ‘Left foot on the clutch, then change gear. Quinn, seriously,’ I gasped as we jerked forwards again. ‘Left foot on the clutch. Left foot on the bloody clutch.’
‘What’s the bloody clutch?’
‘The left hand pedal. Put your damn foot on the left pedal before you try changing gear, or stick or whatever you call it.’ I winced as my head ricocheted off the headrest. ‘Left. Foot. On. The. Bloody. Clutch,’ I shouted.
‘Don’t be a … side seat driver, I’m doing my best,’ she warned.
‘How about I tell you when to put your foot on the left pedal and then I’ll change gears?’ I suggested through gritted teeth as I saw the revs in the danger zone while the engine screamed. ‘Foot on the clutch now,’ I said as calmly as I could, batting her hand away from the gearstick.
‘It’s on,’ she said, so I moved up to third and she gave me a surprised look as the car gently carried on moving without tossing us around.
‘And off,’ I said, letting her go a bit further, ‘and on,’ then waited a beat as I moved into fourth, ‘and off.’
‘I feel like Mr. Mayagi. “Wax on, wax off,”’ she chuckled.
‘You’ll be giving my car a wax by way of an apology for treating her so badly. Do you think you get it now?’
‘I’ve got it,’ she nodded.
We made it off the country road in one piece and turned left onto one of the main roads, and I relaxed a little as we got closer to town. My relaxation was short lived as Quinn decided to forget the whole “we drive on the left” deal once we reached a major roundabout.
‘Quinn,’ I screamed, gripping the seat and the door handle. ‘Wrong way, wrong way!’
‘Damn it. Get out of the way, asshole,’ Quinn yelled, almost pressing her face up against the windscreen as a car approached, set for a head-on collision. It veered out of the way at the last moment, the driver ranting at us with a furious-looking face and a few rude finger gestures, and I quickly looked in the wing mirror to make sure he’d not skidded off the white snow-covered road into the ditch. My heart sounded like it was beating out a bass drum in my ears. ‘Asshole,’ Quinn hollered again.
‘I’m going to die before I even make it to the hospital. Left, left, ignore the road ahead, that’s oncoming traffic. For the love of God, left of the metal barriers,’ I yelled.
‘Don’t yell at me, I’m doing the best I can,’ she yelled back. ‘Get out of the bloody way, you … bloody asshole,’ she roared as a car zoomed up on our left, nearly taking out my wing, and me in the process.
‘He actually had the right of way, as he went the correct way around the roundabout.’
‘What’s a damn roundabout?’ she asked, forgetting the whole clutch in our lesson and jerking the car along the road again.
‘That big round thing you just went the wrong way around.’
‘That’s a roundabout? We call it a traffic circle.’
‘You’re in England, it’s a roundabout or an island.’
‘Stupid bloody name.’
‘What’s with all the bloody? It’s a swear word. You don’t have to insert it in every sentence to sound more British, you know.’
‘I bloody do,’ she giggled.
‘Whatever. Clutch down. Clutch down,’ I cried, almost shedding actual tears of sheer terror.
‘How much further? This is fun now that I’m getting the hang of it.’
‘Our definition of fun is obviously another cultural anomaly,’ I stated flatly. We were approaching the hospital and had a mini island to navigate. It was just a small white hump in the road, so I told her to slow down and reminded her to use the clutch as she dropped gears. ‘Ok, island coming up, keep left,’ I warned, moments before we both smacked our heads on the ceiling of the car.
‘What the hell was that? Did I run over someone?’ Quinn asked, sitting up to look in the rearview mirror that she hadn’t adjusted to suit her.
‘No, that would be the island that you just drove straight over.’
‘I didn’t even see a damn “island.”’
‘Obviously, as the lump on my head will attest. Ok, take a left at the next roundabout and keep left. Left, left, got it?’
‘Right.’
‘No, left.’
‘I meant left.’
‘You said right.’
‘I meant I’m going left, left, right?’
‘Good God, there’s no right, it’s all left. Left, bloody left,’ I huffed.
‘And I meant right, question mark, as in left, bloody left, right question mark, all right? As in, you got it?’
‘Ah, right,’ I said, catching her drift.
‘Was that a right full stop, or another instruction to turn right?’
‘I give up,’ I moaned as the gears crunched and we jerked along again. I resorted to covering my eyes as we approached the “traffic circle” and hoped for the best. ‘And indicators aren’t optional extras in the U.K., by the way.’
‘What the bloody hell is an indicator?’
‘Charlie Faulkner please,’ called a female nurse.
‘Are you coming with me?’ I asked Quinn as I gingerly stood up.
‘Not if you’re going to yell at me again.’
‘You did go the wrong way around a one-way car park.’
‘Well, it’s a stupid country with a stupid driving system,’ she muttered petulantly.
‘Which is now your home, so you’d better get on board with its rules and systems,’ I smiled, linking my arm through hers. ‘Come on, don’t be so grumpy. You might get to meet McFitty or McNotQuiteSoFitty again. If we see him, you have my full permission to get your flirt on.’
‘Nice, I get the doctor you deem not hot enough to warrant the title of McFitty. You’re such a great friend.’
We exchanged a look and grinned at each other. We were different in so many ways, but we also seemed to complement each other so well. Like salt and pepper, fish and chips, pie and mash, pepperoni and pizza. I sighed as I realised I was coming up with food analogies. I was starving. We’d missed lunch as we’d been sitting here waiting for so long. Even Quinn had complained of a numb bum.
‘Ok, I’ll get a doctor to come and assess you,’ the nurse said after taking all of my details. ‘If you can please remove your jeans and knickers and lie on your left-hand side facing the wall, then cover yourself with the blanket.’
‘Take my knickers off?’ I asked in surprise.
‘Yes, the doctor will need to do a rectal exam to see how much sensation you’ve lost.’
‘A what?’ I spluttered.
‘It’s where he shoves a finger up your–’
‘Thanks, Quinn, I’m pretty confident a rectal exam is the same in American or British English,’ I said quickly, cutting her off. ‘Is that really necessary?’ I asked the nurse.
‘You’ve got decreased sensation, back and front, after a heavy fall. Yes, it’s necessary. Trust me, we’ve seen everything here. You’ll be more embarrassed than the doctor.’
‘You’re not kidding,’ I muttered as she slipped out of the door. ‘I’ll be even more embarrassed if McFitty’s the one to do it.’
‘It’s a big hospital. What are the chances of you getting him again?’ Quinn said, trying to reassure me as I tugged my jeans down.
‘With my luck?’ I scoffed. ‘Close your eyes, the knickers are about to come off.’
‘Why knickers?’ she said, doing as she was told. ‘It makes no sense at all. You nick yourself shaving, why would you want to stick something that nicks you so close to the sensitive fun zone?’
‘Fun zone? You’re thirty-one, you can’t call it by its real name?’
‘Says “it” girl. Are you decent yet?’
‘No, give me a minute.’
‘How about you tell me when it’s safe? I don’t want to accidentally open my eyes and be scarred for life by a sighting of a possibly hairless British beaver.’
‘You know, I think I’d actually choose kitchen shopping over this,’ I huffed as I got up on the bed and draped the blanket over myself. ‘It’s safe, you can open your eyes.’
‘You sure? If you’re facing the wall and haven’t covered yourself properly, I’ll be seeing a British chocolate starfish.’
‘I don’t have a chocolate starfish! We’re so progressive in England that we have this thing called toilet paper. I assure you that if you opened your eyes and I wasn’t decent, it would be the pinkest starfish you’d ever seen.’
‘That’s good to know, as I’ll be the one witnessing it, Miss Faulkner,’ Guy Fitton’s voice said, making me groan as my cheeks coloured up.
‘Seriously, I get you for one of the most embarrassing examinations of my life? Again? Do you specialise in south-of-the-border treatments?’
‘I’ve been known to travel north on occasion,’ he chuckled. ‘I did treat you for an eye injury last time, if I recall correctly. Hi there, I’m Doctor Fitton.’
‘Ah, McFitty in the flesh. We did meet briefly in a nightclub last year. I’m Quinn, neighbour and friend of the injured.’
‘Quinn!’ I uttered, mortified as he said ‘McFitty?’ with a puzzled tone and the nurse let out a girlish giggle.
‘She thinks you’re hot, and I have to agree. Are you dating anyone at the moment?’ Quinn asked.
‘Ermmm, I think we’ve got slightly off topic here. Why don’t we focus on the patient and her injury,’ he suggested. I screwed my eyes up even tighter, and just to be sure I couldn’t see his reaction, covered my face with my hands, jumping a little as I heard the snap of the gloves he was putting on, then the unmistakable farting sound of lubricant being squirted out of the tube.
‘Kill me now,’ I whispered.
‘You might want to turn to look the other way to save your friend being embarrassed.’
‘There’s another level to the embarrassment I’m feeling right now?’ I asked.
‘I’d say not,’ Quinn chuckled as I heard the scrape of a chair on the smooth flooring.
‘Ok, Charlie, if you can bring your knees up to your chest … higher... that’s great. Now you’re going to feel something cold and some pressure. Just try and relax, it shouldn’t hurt and won’t take long,’ he said in his best comforting tone. I automatically jolted forwards as I felt his scouting mission brush past and he placed his other hand on my hip. ‘Relax for me and push out as I push in, it will be easier. Relax. Relax … Relax!’
I bit the heel of my hand as he set to work, me fighting him every step of the way and resisting the urge to shout back, “You try and bloody relax while I do this to you.”. This was it, our non-relationship was now doomed. What girl wanted to go on a date with a guy who’d probed her intimate areas before he’d even kissed her? I mean, he might be put off, too. He’d not exactly seen me at my prettiest, with dermatitis rash on my eyes as well as down there, even before this?
‘Can you feel my finger?’
‘Jesus,’ I muttered, my cheeks flaming. ‘Yes, I can feel it, but it feels … weird. I mean, I know it’s normal to feel weird when something’s … there, but it’s extra weird.’
‘Extra weird? You’re saying it doesn’t feel the same as when your partner has been intimate with you back here?’
‘Someone pass me my English thesis to do again, as that would be preferable to what’s happening here right now,’ I groaned, beyond humiliated. ‘Yes, extra weird to … normal. Not that it’s normal, you know? I don’t go around inviting explorations. There’s no “Open for potholing” sign that I stick back there. I’ve even slapped one guy who ignored the “wrong hole” warning I screamed at him. So no, in summary, vis-à-vis butt examinations, while it doesn’t exactly happen on a regular basis, I have a vague recollection that that doesn’t feel normal.’
‘A simple no would have sufficed,’ he said, and I heard Quinn giggling to herself. ‘Clench for me.’
‘If I clench any harder, you’re liable to lose a finger,’ I warned him. It took a concerted effort to answer his questions as I tried to remember if I’d ever been more embarrassed. I think this actually topped the whole “looking at my lady parts” incident. When he withdrew, removing the tattered shreds of my dignity at the same time, I could have sobbed with relief.
‘Well, I’d like to get an MRI of your lower back, so I’ll leave some paper towel for you to clean up and go and see how long the waiting list is. You’re free to get dressed. I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ he said, covering me back up with the sheet.
‘Ok,’ I whimpered, not unfurling from my foetal position or removing my hands until I heard the door open and then the soft click as it closed and they left the room. ‘Did that really just happen?’ I asked Quinn.
‘You said you were a walking medical disaster, but to have him do that? Jeez, I’d have died.’
‘I think I have, I can’t move. He’s going to come back to talk to me and I can’t look at him. Go and grab a wheelchair. You can stick me in it and we can make a run for it before he comes back.’
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ Quinn said as I heard her heavy boots walking towards me. ‘If he’s looking at an MRI, he’s worried you’ve ruptured a disc or something. That’s serious, Charlie. Here, the towel to clean up. I’ll go out for a few minutes and give you some privacy. I think I saw a vending machine. I’ll get us a soda and some candy as I’m starving.’
‘Thanks,’ I whispered.
I just lay there for a while after she left and took some deep, calming breaths before using the sandpaper-like towels on my delicate behind and getting dressed again. I was washing my hands when he came back into the room and I had to force myself to look at him as he explained that he couldn’t get me an MRI scan, so I was on the waiting list and was being admitted until the scan had been done and assessed. In fairness to him, he was nothing but professional, but I could tell from the heat radiating off my face and neck that it was obvious to him how embarrassed I was.
‘You really need to admit me? I can’t go home and rest and just come back when you’re ready for me?’
‘Afraid not. The waiting list can change quickly and you’d miss your slot if you couldn’t get back fast enough. The worst case scenario is that a disc can rupture or pop out completely, which is a medical emergency that necessitates immediate surgery. Until we’ve reviewed your scans, we need to keep you here. They’re just organising a bed for you. Do you have any questions or concerns?’
I shook my head and listened as he went through the admission procedure and risks if the disc caused cauda equina syndrome. Quinn slipped into the room and grimaced at me as she listened.
‘I’ll find out if we have a bed ready for you and what ward you’ll be on. I understand being suddenly admitted like this is a shock, but you’re in the best place here. We’ll take good care of you, ok?’
‘Ok, thanks.’
‘Oh, Charlie,’ Quinn sighed as he left the room. She dumped her armful of candy bars and the cans of pop and came to give me a much needed hug. She said she didn’t do emotional bonding “crap,” but she was in denial. Under that cool self-defence mechanism was a woman with a huge and caring heart. ‘I’ll wait until I know where they’re taking you and I can go back to your place and pack a bag. Tell me what you’d like me to bring back for you?’
‘You’re going to drive my car? Alone? I’d rather he come and do another rectal exam than give you my car keys!’
‘Hey, I did ok. I got you here, didn’t I?’ she huffed.
‘You did, but I’m ringing Andy to drive you back and forth, my car can stay in the car park until I’m ready to go home,’ I said firmly, pulling out my phone.
‘Happy bloody Valentine’s night, eh?’ she said, rolling her eyes.
‘Valentine’s sucks.’
‘High five to that. But on the plus side, my diagnosis is McFitty is interested.’
‘Shut up,’ I laughed, shoving her shoulder.
‘I got the interested vibe off him, but do you want my honest opinion?’
‘Quinn, you’re as blunt as a crappy chef’s knife. I think stopping you from stating an honest opinion is the real problem.’
‘Thanks, I guess.’
‘Go on then.’
‘He’s hot, seriously hot,’ she said.
‘Well, duh.’ I eye-rolled her obvious conclusion.
‘But there’s something about him that’s shady. He was flirting with that nurse in the corridor. I don’t think I like him.’
‘You don’t know him. You’ve met him once,’ I retorted as I sat back down on the bed to wait to be transferred. So what if Quinn and Daphne didn’t like him. I did, and it seemed like he was finally starting to thaw.