Chapter Twenty-Two

He was sure that Doctor Pravenda was over his bed, torch in her hand, shining it into his eyes, but he soon realized that he was no longer in the hospital and instead he was lying on a very comfortable bed in an old farmhouse in Scotland. The light in his eyes came from the sun shining through the curtainless windows, and he had to lift his arm in front of his eyes to adjust to the glare.

Judging by how high the sun was in the sky he knew that he must have slept for many hours. He sat up carefully, his muscles still tight and sore from the previous day’s travel. His bladder was full to bursting, so with as much haste as he could manage he pulled himself into the wheelchair and wheeled himself out of the door. It wasn’t easy; the doorways were rather narrow and it was a tight squeeze. Cameron had made it seem much easier when he guided the chair through earlier that morning.

The bathroom was down the hall, exactly as Cameron had described, and Dax pushed the door open. He sat on the toilet and relieved himself, then pulled the lever and transferred back to the wheelchair. He looked at the bathtub. There was no shower and he prayed that somewhere in the house there was a third bathroom where he could wheel his chair in under jets of water and clean himself, otherwise he was going to struggle.

He washed his face and saw that Cameron had left him a toothbrush in a packet by the sink. It felt good to freshen up after such an exhausting day and he wheeled himself back into his bedroom and in front of the window. The stone walls of the farmhouse were so thick he could have lifted himself up onto the sill and sat on it with ease, but he settled for staying in the chair and looking out.

When they’d arrived the previous evening it was already too dark for him to see anything other than the occasional white blob of a sheep in the blackness, but now the sun was shining brightly and he was treated to his first view of the scenery. He was amazed to see how beautiful it was; as far as he could see in the distance everything was green; rolling hills that seemed to stretch right to the horizon, some of them scattered with sheep, and others with cows, lazily moving through the grass, chomping as they went.

Once again, the sheer silence of the place settled around him, and he sat there quietly for several minutes, simply looking out over the lush green carpet ahead of him. He wanted to get out of the chair and walk all over the hills, but he could feel the dead weight of his legs, the weakness of his back, and he was brought back to reality.

He was broken from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Then there was a knock on the door. “Yeah?” called Dax, still looking out of the window.

Cameron entered the room carefully, balancing a tray on one hand. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, and it was the first time that Dax had seen the therapist out of uniform. His red hair was tousled and messy, as though he’d just woken up. He grinned his usual bright grin as he entered. “I hope you’re hungry,” he said.

“I hadn’t thought about it until now,” Dax replied. “I was just checking out the view.”

“Aye, it’s something special, all right,” Cameron said, and he put down the tray in front of Dax on the windowsill. Cameron had clearly gone out to find some items in the hours that Dax had been sleeping. There was fresh toast, now spread liberally with butter, and there was a plate of scrambled eggs and even a few slices of bacon. Dax smiled and looked up at Cameron.

“You’re a pretty good host,” he said, and it pleased him to see Cameron beam with pleasure.

“I went into town first thing this morning,” he said. “I can’t sleep when it starts to get light but I’ve never got round to adding curtains in the place. So, I’ve been up since the crack of dawn. On the way back, I stopped at Ged’s and got the eggs and butter, so they’re fresh from the farm.”

“It all looks great,” Dax said. “And is this tea?”

He pointed to the squat pot and Cameron nodded. “I’m afraid I don’t have a coffee maker,” he said. “I’ll pick one up later on today. I know you Americans like your coffee in the morning but I won’t offend you by giving you the instant stuff they have in the supermarket.”

“It’s okay,” Dax said. “The tea I had last night was pretty good.”

He was lying. He hadn’t liked it at all. It was strong and bitter and he couldn’t get used to drinking it hot. He was used to iced tea on a hot day, sweet and refreshing, and with lemon instead of milk. But he was thirsty this morning, so he lifted the heavy teapot carefully as his hands continued to shake a little, and poured the hot, dark liquid into a cup. Cameron watched him, but didn’t take it from him. Dax appreciated that his therapist knew there were some activities he wanted to do himself.

It made him think about the shower, and as he made a sandwich with some bacon and eggs, he asked Cameron about it.

“Hmmm,” Cameron replied, nodding. “About that. No, we don’t have a shower here. But the water gets really hot so there’s always plenty for a good bath.”

“I’m just not sure I’ll be able to get in and out of the tub…” Dax trailed off, before taking a bite of his breakfast. It was delicious. He realized how much he’d missed having good food, even though the hospital didn’t serve him terrible meals. The food was so fresh, as though the cow that produced the butter had been milked only that morning, and the hen had laid the eggs barely an hour earlier.

“You don’t need to worry about anything like that,” Cameron assured him, one hand on his shoulder. “That’s why you’re here, remember? So we can work on your rehabilitation without the stress of people looking at you and you feeling embarrassed.”

“I know,” Dax replied. “But I didn’t think you were going to have to help me get in and out of the bathtub.”

“Well, there’s a hose outside the back,” Cameron replied, grinning again. “It’s supposed to be for the garden, so we’ve never had it hooked up to the heater. It means you’ll only get freezing cold water coming out of there, but maybe that’s better than me helping you have a hot bath?”

“Maybe I’ll just keep my shorts on,” Dax replied. He blushed and nodded at this sandwich. “This is great.”

“I’m glad you like it. How’s the tea?”

Dax dropped a little milk into the cup and stirred it with a teaspoon. This time he added some sugar, too, and when he sipped he was pleasantly surprised to find it much tastier than the last cup he’d drunk. “It’s really good.”

“Good,” said Cameron. “I didn’t put sugar in it last night because when I went to open the jar the whole thing had solidified into a huge white rock. I got some fresh this morning from the supermarket. You might have noticed the place can get a little damp.”

He reached forward to the window fastening and gave the pane a push. It wouldn’t budge, so he pushed it again, this time harder, and it opened with a creak. A cool spring breeze came through the window and then Dax caught a smell that made him wrinkle his nose and put down his sandwich.

“Sorry!” Cameron said, laughing. “You’re living in the middle of farmland now. That’s good old fashioned manure on those fields.”

“Great,” Dax said, going a little green. He picked up his tea and settled with drinking it as he got used to the smell. It wasn’t too bad, really, and he knew that in the countryside he should expect strange sounds and smells. He’d soon get used to it, he thought. Besides, it was worth the odd strange whiff when the rest of the place seemed so perfect. In the distance, he heard a bleat. Cameron heard it too.

“Ged’s got his hands full right now,” he said. “It’s lambing season, so every day he has new lambs being born. Maybe one time we’ll drive over to the farm and you can see them?”

“Sure,” said Dax, although he wasn’t sure it was something he’d want to do. He hadn’t grown up with so much as a hamster in the house, and had never considered himself to be a lover of animals.

“I’m going to jump in the bath,” Cameron said. “When I’m done, do you want to take a bath?”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” Dax replied, still thinking about someone having to help him. “Maybe later?”

“Sure,” Cameron replied. “We’ll do it after your exercises.”

“What?” Dax exclaimed. “I thought you said that after last night I could take the day off!”

“Did I say that?” Cameron asked. “I must have been so tired I was talking nonsense.”

He left the room before Dax could protest, and Dax frowned as he looked out. It was difficult to be angry for too long, though, as the sight before him made him smile. In the distance, he saw two tiny lambs jumping around each other as their mother stoically chewed grass and walked around slowly. To see the lambs gambol and hear the birds singing on such a beautiful day, Dax wasn’t sure he could get too annoyed about anything.