‘I’VE only got a few minutes.’ Wendy sat down on the chair beside the bed, still holding Ross’s hand. ‘My patient’s with his physiotherapist.’
‘Sally said she had someone to go and see in ICU. Sounds like a serious injury.’
‘Fracture dislocation of C6,7. He’s tetraplegic.’
‘How did it happen?’
‘He dived into a pool that was too shallow.’
Ross couldn’t shake his head but the roll of his eyes was eloquent enough. ‘That was pretty stupid, wasn’t it?’
‘Mmm.’ Wendy took a deep breath. She didn’t have enough time to spend it discussing another patient. They had far more important subjects to discuss. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about you since last night, Ross,’ she said a little hesitantly. ‘About us.’
‘There can’t be any “us” any more. I told you that,’ Ross said wearily. It had been even harder than he’d thought it would be last night. He didn’t have the strength to do it again. He closed his eyes. ‘It’s over.’
‘Not as far as I’m concerned,’ Wendy said quietly. She blinked hard, determined not to cry as her fingers moved gently over his. ‘I love you, Ross. Nothing can change that.’
The hand beneath hers remained still. Ross’s eyes remained closed. The connection felt one-sided. Professional, even.
‘Takes two to tango.’ The bitterness in the snort that punctuated the statement was very uncharacteristic. ‘And my dancing days are over.’
‘You don’t know that.’ Wendy gave the limp hand an encouraging squeeze as one corner of her mouth lifted in a faint shadow of her customary impish grin. ‘Besides, you told me that you were a terrible dancer.’
Her attempt to lighten the atmosphere fell like a lead balloon. ‘I shouldn’t have bothered telling you that, should I? I could have told you I was right up there with John Travolta or Michael Jackson. It’s not as if you’re ever going to discover the truth.’
‘It doesn’t matter a damn to me whether you can dance or not, Ross.’
The hand moved finally. Ross pulled it clear as his eyelids snapped open to reveal a haunted expression Wendy had never seen before. ‘It matters to me.’
‘I didn’t mean…’ Wendy cursed inwardly as she realised how Ross had chosen to interpret her words. She sighed. The negativity was draining and she knew very well how such an attitude could affect the recovery of a spinal injury patient. ‘Ross, you’re doing so well. You’ve got to give yourself time to recover. You can’t make major decisions about the future based on how you feel right now. Not for yourself. Or us.’
Ross knew precisely what Wendy had meant. And he couldn’t afford to go down that track. He couldn’t let her persuade him that what they had was strong enough to handle the change in his body. He tried to hang onto his deliberate misinterpretation. It was preferable to choose anger over pain.
‘There is no us. Not any more. Look, Wendy—it was great while it lasted but it’s over. We have no future.’
Wendy swallowed hard. Was part of this problem because Ross was trying to think too far ahead? ‘We have the present,’ she said slowly. ‘Are you saying you want me to stay away from you?’ The tears were harder to fight off now. ‘That could be difficult. I work here. You’re going to be a patient here for a while yet.’
Ross sighed heavily. He reached for Wendy’s hand without thinking. ‘Don’t cry,’ he said. He couldn’t bear it if he saw her cry for the first time. It might be enough to undermine the resolve he knew he had to keep. ‘Please,’ he added. ‘This isn’t easy for me either, you know.’
‘Then why do it? It’s not necessary.’
‘I think it is.’
The twitch of the curtains advertised a badly timed intrusion.
‘G’day, mate. How’s things?’
‘Kyle!’ Wendy’s exclamation was followed by a moment’s stunned silence. ‘What are you doing here?’ Her gaze flicked back to Ross to try and gauge his reaction. Surely he wouldn’t want to see the person who had been responsible for his accident? Especially the way he was feeling at present. In fact, how on earth could Kyle have the nerve to appear?
‘Came to see you, of course.’
Ross had an odd expression. A smile that was almost wryly amused. Wendy shifted her gaze back to Kyle and had the disconcerting impression that he had been staring at her while he’d spoken. She hadn’t forgotten how much she disliked the way Kyle Dickson looked at her. Or the way he seemed to assume that he had the right to look just as often and as long as he pleased. Kyle’s presence on the USAR course had been the one aspect that Wendy would prefer to forget. Even now, the memory of Kyle’s eagerness to touch her when she had acted as a patient during practice scenarios was enough to make her shudder.
‘It’s not visiting hours.’ Wendy’s tone was deliberately cool. ‘Who let you in?’
Kyle’s shrug was casual. ‘Nobody was paying any attention. I just looked around till I found his name on the board.’
‘You’ve got no right to do that!’ Wendy was horrified. She’d have to bring up the issue of security at the next staff meeting.
‘He’s here now,’ Ross said quietly. ‘So it really doesn’t matter, does it?’
Wendy bit back the retort she would have liked to have made. Maybe Ross found Kyle’s company preferable to the discussion they had been having. Her resentment at the interruption increased as she listened to the conversation between the men.
‘How’s the leg, Kyle?’
‘Forgotten about it, thanks, mate. It was really no big deal after all.’
‘You certainly made it sound like it at the time,’ Wendy said acidly. ‘Everyone who heard you screaming assumed it was a very big deal.’
‘I guess I overreacted.’ Kyle’s grin did nothing to suggest remorse.
‘It turned out to be a fairly big deal, though, didn’t it?’ Ross found it easy to feed the anger he’d summoned, and it was helping a lot. Kyle had no clue about the repercussions he was dealing with. Or, if he did, he didn’t care. Had he really come here to see him or was he still not over his infatuation with Wendy?
‘Not really.’ Kyle’s gaze wandered from Ross as he spoke. He was looking at the array of cards and flowers lining the window-sill. ‘I pulled it out myself in the end. It was just soft tissue damage and I—’
Another short silence followed the quiet remark from Ross. Kyle’s expression suggested that he was trying to interpret an atmosphere that was inexplicably hostile. Wendy had no hesitation in providing enlightenment.
‘It was your “small deal” that led to Ross being here, Kyle. If you hadn’t been stupid enough to go off on your own this would never have happened.’ And if he hadn’t been hysterical he wouldn’t have been so dangerous to get close to. And if he hadn’t been so close to the edge, Ross wouldn’t have fallen.
‘I went off on my own because I heard someone calling for help. It was our job to try and rescue people…if you remember.’
‘If you heard someone calling it was inside your own head,’ Wendy snapped. ‘Nobody else heard it.’
‘Look, I didn’t ask Ross to come and rescue me. I could have sorted it out by myself.’
‘Shame you didn’t let the rest of us know that at the time.’
The sound from the bed was almost a groan. ‘What possible good is any of this going to do?’ Ross asked wearily.
‘Absolutely no good at all,’ Kyle responded swiftly. ‘I knew you’d see it that way, mate. It wasn’t my fault.’
‘I didn’t say that, precisely.’
Kyle’s green eyes narrowed. A flash of something like resentment showed on his narrow features but the expression was gone as quickly as it had come. His smile held no warmth and he moved out of Ross’s line of vision. He looked around as he backed up towards the basin.
‘Nice flowers.’ The red roses were protruding noticeably from the window-sill. ‘Who are they for?’
‘Ross, of course.’
Kyle leaned over the basin and lifted a corner of the bouquet. ‘So why do they have your name on the label?’
Wendy groaned inwardly. She hadn’t wanted Ross to know about those flowers. ‘I think it’s time you left, Kyle.’
‘I’m visiting Ross, not you.’ The wait for any agreement from Ross was in vain and Kyle shuffled his feet. Wendy could feel his stare and she pointedly avoided looking at him. Why was Ross being so polite? She could sense his anger, so why hadn’t he just sent Kyle packing instantly? Or was he more angry with her for trying to argue the decision he’d delivered regarding their relationship?
The visitor finally conceded defeat. ‘Maybe I’ll come back some other time when you’re feeling better.’
The snort from the direction of the bed was dismissive and Kyle took the hint. Wendy let out a long breath as they were left alone again.
‘He’s always given me the creeps but that was…’ She shook her head in bewilderment. ‘He didn’t even seem to think he had anything to apologise for and it’s entirely his fault you’re injured.’
‘Maybe he’ll feel a bit sorrier for me when he sees me sitting in a wheelchair.’
Wendy couldn’t think of a response that would be remotely helpful. Ross was so determined to see the worst right now and Wendy felt suddenly deflated. Maybe defeatism was contagious.
‘What sort of flowers are they?’
‘Roses. I was going to give them to Sam but he was asleep.’
‘I have no idea. There was no card. I had hoped it might have been you.’
‘Flowers aren’t my style, sorry. Besides, why would I have sent any?’
‘Why indeed?’ Wendy agreed drily. ‘I’d better get back to the unit, Ross. I’ll come back later when I’m off duty.’ She paused as she stepped back through the curtains. ‘Maybe you’ll feel more like talking to me by then.’
The shrug was limited by the stiff collar Ross was wearing but the message was clear enough. He didn’t care whether she came back or not. He would probably prefer it if she didn’t.
There was a large noticeboard on the wall beside the nurses’ station. Information about training courses and upcoming meetings competed for space among letters and photos from past patients, invitations to social or fundraising activities and even advertisements for personal items for sale or requests for flatmates. Wendy reminded herself to take down the slip of paper she had posted regarding the upcoming vacancy of her townhouse. She wouldn’t be leaving Christchurch for a while yet—if at all. A threatened wave of despair only fuelled the anger she felt at seeing Kyle standing there, casually reading the notices.
‘What the hell are you still doing here, Kyle? I thought Ross made it fairly clear that you weren’t exactly welcome.’ Wendy stepped closer. ‘I can’t imagine what made you think he’d even want to see you in the first place.’
‘I didn’t think he would.’ Kyle’s grin was as unexpected as the admission. ‘I thought you might, though.’
‘I’m in Christchurch for a few days. I thought I could take you out to dinner maybe.’
Wendy closed her mouth with a snap. ‘You thought wrong, Kyle.’
‘Really?’ The smile had a disturbing shade of tolerance. ‘I got the impression that you and Ross weren’t exactly an item any more.’
Wendy averted her gaze before Kyle could see any hint of alarm in her eyes. Just how long had he been standing on the other side of the curtains and how much could he have overheard? The alarm was replaced almost instantly by renewed anger. Even if he had been eavesdropping, what could possibly make Kyle think he would have any chance of stepping into her life to replace Ross? The young man was totally insufferable.
‘Get out of here, Kyle. And don’t come back because if you do, I’ll alert Security.’
‘OK, I’m going. Don’t get your knickers in a knot.’ Kyle paused to smile at Wendy over his shoulder and issue a cheerful farewell as he moved away. ‘Catch you later.’
‘Over my dead body.’
‘I don’t think he heard that.’ Debbie was leaning over the counter near the noticeboard. Her expression was curious. ‘Who is he, anyway?’
‘He was on the USAR course and he was a pain right from day one. He should never have been able to get in here like that. Have you any idea how slack security is around here?’
‘It’s difficult,’ Debbie reminded her. ‘A lot of patients have family members wandering around. We can’t challenge everybody.’
‘Maybe they should wear a visitor’s pass or something.’
Debbie was still looking curious. ‘If you keep scowling that hard you’ll get wrinkles. What did he do to annoy you so much?’
Wendy just scowled harder. She had no desire to refresh her own memory by telling Debbie about the infatuation Kyle had with her, and she was relieved when Debbie was distracted by having to answer the phone. The conversation was brief.
‘Paddy’s looking for you, Wendy. He’s in his office.’
‘On my way.’ Wendy was pleased to have an excuse to push the whole episode with Kyle firmly out of her mind and concentrate on her job again.
‘That bloke seemed to like you.’ Debbie’s voice floated after her. ‘Hey, maybe he’s the secret admirer!’
Patrick Miller had summoned Wendy to let her know the results of the X-ray examination Martin had just undergone.
‘There’s no significant reduction,’ he reported. ‘We’re going to take him to Theatre as soon as it’s free. We’ll try manipulation and reduction under general anaesthesia but it’s quite likely we’ll have to go on to an open reduction and plating. Martin’s asleep at the moment and Gemma is taking a break. She wants some time to get to grips with this before we talk to him. And it could be a while before we get to Theatre. There’s been a couple of hiccups with Cecily Barnett’s surgery and it’ll be at least an hour before they finish.’
‘It’ll have to be Gemma that signs the consent form, anyway, won’t it?’
‘Yes, but it’s Martin that needs to make the decision.’
‘There’s not much choice if his condition is deteriorating.’
‘No.’ Patrick looked grim but then his expression lightened. ‘How’s Ross today? I haven’t had the chance to go and say hello yet.’
‘I think he’s a bit down.’ Wendy couldn’t confess the real problem, no matter how approachable her boss might be. Not when she hadn’t yet accepted that Ross was seriously intending to dump her.
‘Facing this kind of challenge is a long haul. Things will improve, though. I have great hopes that Ross will walk out of this place—at least with crutches.’
‘I’m not sure that’s going to be good enough for Ross.’
‘It’s certainly a body image that he’ll need time to adjust to. At least you’re in a perfect position to help him.’
‘I hope so.’ Only Wendy knew the statement was ambiguous. She did hope she could help but she hoped even more that she could regain the perfect position from which to try. Ross had never been as close to anyone as he had to her. He had said as much on more than one occasion. Who would be there for him the way she could be if he insisted on trying to break that bond?
Peter had stayed with Martin during Wendy’s absence. He looked up from the notes he was writing as she returned.
‘How’s Ross? Sally said the level of sensation in his legs seems to be improving.’
‘Still no signs of any movement. I don’t think he wants to accept that a wheelchair is a real possibility.’
Peter closed the folder of patient notes. ‘It’s ironic, isn’t it, that those are often the people that end up in here? The horse riders and rugby players and paragliders. They have the most to lose, and doing what they love is what puts them at risk of losing it.’
‘I don’t think an avoidable accident in an urban search and rescue scenario would count as doing something Ross loved.’
‘Wouldn’t it? Wasn’t he heavily involved in a mountain search and rescue team?’
Wendy had to nod. ‘He saw the USAR course as an extension of that training. Ross wanted to be the best rescuer he could be—in any situation.’
‘Who’s Ross?’ The sleepy mumble indicated that Martin had woken.
‘Wendy’s boyfriend,’ Peter told him. ‘She’s just been to visit him in the ward while you were asleep.’
‘Is he a doctor?’
‘He is,’ Wendy confirmed. She was watching the monitors as Martin’s heart and respiration rates increased. The oxygen saturation level dropped slightly and then picked up. ‘But he doesn’t work here. He’s a patient at the moment.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘He had a bad fall.’
‘You might have read about him in the newspaper,’ Peter added. ‘Or seen him on TV. He’s famous now. Ross and Wendy were part of the rescue team during the Westgate Mall disaster.’
‘Really?’ Martin sounded much more awake now. ‘Wow! You know, when I first heard about that I thought someone was pulling my leg. I couldn’t believe something that awful was happening in New Zealand. It was unreal.’
‘We thought that at first, too,’ Wendy admitted. ‘We’d just finished our three-week training course on urban search and rescue and we got loaded into a bus for a callout. We thought we were being taken to a pub to celebrate and instead we found ourselves in the middle of the biggest disaster this country’s ever had.’
‘I was amazed that we even had people training to do that kind of rescue work.’
‘New Zealand’s been part of an international search and rescue advisory group for more than ten years,’ Wendy told him. ‘Up until recently there’s only been two task forces in the north island. Our course was held to boost numbers and make a full-response team available in the south island.’
‘You must have had to learn a lot.’
Wendy nodded. ‘Heaps.’
‘Like what?’ Martin sounded genuinely interested and Wendy was happy to respond. Conversation that wasn’t centred on a patient’s own situation was often beneficial.
‘We learned how to do a reconnaissance and survey of an incident. What sort of equipment would be used and the gear we needed to keep ourselves safe. We learned how to identify hazards and how to deal with them and how to do a rubble crawl and a line-and-hail search to find people buried under debris.’ Wendy smiled. ‘We had a practice session of that in a huge rubbish tip. I got buried and the rest of the class had to find and rescue me.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ Martin observed.
‘Kind of,’ Wendy agreed. ‘It was pretty cold and dirty.’
‘What else did you do?’
‘We had quite a lot of medical training for people who didn’t come from health-related jobs.’
‘What sort of jobs did they come from?’
‘We had a couple of doctors, more nurses, like me, and some paramedics. There were lots of fire officers and other people who were involved in organisations like the Red Cross and Civil Defence.’
‘Any builders like me? I’d love to do something like that.’
‘Actually, builders would be very useful,’ Wendy told him. ‘We had to learn how to shore up unstable structures and that seemed to involve a lot of hammering bits of wood together.’
Martin was quiet for a moment but Peter seemed to have caught his interest in their conversation.
‘They couldn’t have been anticipating something like a shopping mall blowing up,’ he commented. ‘It seems quite a coincidence that it happened right as you finished the course.’
‘The course had been planned ages ago. There are a lot of other reasons to have USAR personnel available. We get plenty of earthquakes in New Zealand and they always have the potential to make a lot of buildings collapse. Besides, the teams can be used for any kind of long-duration special incidents.’
‘Like what?’
‘Major terrorist activities aren’t so far-fetched any more. Manmade situations could be bombings or hazardous material release. Natural events like hurricanes or floods happen often enough, too. People with just this sort of training were needed, say, in that tidal wave in Papua New Guinea not so long ago. And that awful mud slide at Thredbo in Australia in ’97. Personnel trained here can theoretically be deployed anywhere in the world.’
‘So you could get sent off if there was a huge earthquake in Mexico or somewhere?’
‘That’s the idea.’ Wendy nodded. ‘Most of the people in my class were quite prepared to go anywhere they might be needed.’
‘Did you know the guy that got trapped trying to rescue that kid?’ Martin queried.
‘That was Joe.’ Wendy nodded again. ‘He’s a good friend. And the little boy that was rescued is the son of one of my other best friends, Jessica. She was in our class as well. Her mother was killed in the collapse.’
‘And your boyfriend got hurt. I remember reading about him now. He’s going to end up in a wheelchair, isn’t he? Like me?’
It seemed tactless to tell Martin how much better off Ross was. Peter spoke as he noticed her hesitation. ‘His injury’s a bit different. His arms and hands are still OK.’
‘He’s lucky, then.’
‘Yes, he is,’ Wendy agreed simply. And maybe Ross would realise that himself soon. Especially if he had someone like Martin to compare himself to. If he could talk to Martin, he might realise just how negative his own attitude was. The idea that Martin could be moved into Room 2 alongside Ross seemed an inspiration and Wendy felt a surge of optimism as she resolved to speak to Patrick about it later. They would get through this. Together. And their love would end up stronger than ever.
‘Martin’s due for a turn,’ Peter observed. ‘Shall I round up the team?’
‘Thanks, Pete. I’d appreciate that.’
Turning a paralysed patient at regular intervals was essential to avoid pressure problems and maintain limbs and joints in functional positions. To change between a left or right lateral and a supine position required a team of at least four trained staff members. The team leader held the head and the others controlled the rest of the spinal alignment. Martin was returned to lying on his back after a spell on his left side. Peter stayed to help Wendy reposition the pillows after the turn. Martin had a pillow under each arm, others beneath his back, between his legs and two at the foot of the bed to prevent foot drop. Wendy looked up as she pushed the last pillow back into place between her patient’s foot and the board to make a solid bed end.
‘OK, Martin?’
Wendy straightened swiftly. Peter was watching the cardiac monitor and her eyes flew to the screen. Changing the position of a patient with a high spinal fracture could precipitate an irregularity in heart rhythm and she was as disturbed as Peter to see the spikes drifting far more slowly across the screen.
‘I feel sick,’ Martin told them. His skin colour had faded to a nasty pallor and Wendy could see beads of perspiration on his forehead.
An alarm sounded on the monitor and Peter pressed a button to silence it. ‘Rate’s down to thirty,’ he warned Wendy. ‘I’ll get Paddy.’
Patrick Miller was at the bedside within seconds. ‘Draw up some atropine,’ he instructed Wendy. ‘And adrenaline.’
Wendy drew up the drugs, which were administered in small increments. She held her breath as the fifth dose of adrenaline was injected, watching the screen and willing the heart rate to start picking up.
The rate did increase but not in the way any of them had hoped. The slow spikes changed to rapid, smooth-capped mountains.
‘Ventricular tachycardia,’ Wendy observed aloud.
‘He’s unconscious,’ Peter announced tersely. He had already positioned the crash cart. He slapped gel pads onto Martin’s chest as Wendy reached for the paddles from the defibrillator. She held them in position on Martin’s chest as the charge accumulated.
‘Stand clear,’ she directed. ‘Shocking at two hundred joules.’
They all watched the line on the screen settle back to the same pattern. Wendy pushed the charge button on one of the paddles, still holding them firmly in position.
‘Is everyone clear?’ Wendy waited a second for affirmative responses. ‘OK, shocking now. Two hundred joules.’
This time the spikes reappeared and they all breathed a sigh of relief. The rate was fast but the rhythm was normal. Patrick had a hand on Martin’s wrist. ‘Output’s good,’ he nodded.
Martin’s colour was improving. His eyelids flickered and he groaned. He was starting to wake up. Wendy slotted the paddles back into the life pack. She reached to peel the gel pads from their patient’s chest but Patrick was frowning.
‘Hang on, Wendy.’
In dismay, Wendy watched the irregular beats that were now disrupting Martin’s heart rhythm at frequent intervals. This time the change to ventricular tachycardia progressed to ventricular fibrillation and three further shocks did nothing to alter the ominous rhythm. More staff members arrived in response to the cardiac arrest alarm that Peter had activated.
‘I’ll intubate,’ Patrick informed them. ‘Bag him, Wendy.’ He reached for the laryngoscope on the crash trolley. ‘Pete, I’ll need a 9-mm endotracheal tube and a 10-ml syringe.’
Wendy held the mask over Martin’s face and squeezed the bag, forcing his level of oxygenation up prior to the procedure of securing his airway. Then she kept up the ventilations as another staff member started chest compressions and Patrick continued the drug therapy. More adrenaline was administered. Then amiodarone. Further shocks were delivered in an attempt to convert the fatal rhythm of ventricular fibrillation until the flat line on the screen advertised the lack of any rhythm to try and convert. They abandoned the paddles. There were now plenty of trained staff to take turns with the CPR.
The resuscitation attempt lasted forty-five minutes. Awareness of their failure came in stages, though the agreement to cease their efforts was inevitably unanimous, but the horror of what had occurred lingered much longer. Peter stayed to help Wendy in the grim task of tidying up.
‘This is just so awful.’ Wendy had crouched to pick up discarded packaging. She remained crouched as she bowed her head in an effort to regain her composure.
‘I know.’ Peter’s hand rested on her shoulder for a moment. ‘But it happens. Fortunately not very often.’
‘He had such a great attitude.’ Wendy pushed herself to her feet. Peter had removed the tube from Martin’s mouth and cleaned his face, and the young man looked as though he was sleeping peacefully. ‘He was determined to beat this injury,’ Wendy said sadly.
‘He wouldn’t have, though,’ Peter reminded her gently. ‘We both know that.’
‘But he didn’t,’ Wendy whispered. ‘And even if he’d known, he would still have tried. He was a real fighter.’
‘Are you OK?’ Peter led her away from the curtained corner of the ICU. ‘We’re both due to go off duty. Can I take you somewhere for a drink or something?’
‘No. Thanks, anyway, Pete, but I think I’ll go and spend some time with Ross.’
‘Of course.’ Peter’s smile was understanding. ‘He’s the person you need to be with right now.’
Wendy nodded. She needed comfort and there was only one person she needed it from. So much for hoping that Martin might help Ross. His positive attitude was simply a memory now, and how could that influence someone who had never met him? At least she could tell Ross about it and maybe make him understand how lucky she felt that he had survived. How much she still wanted to be with him—no matter what the outcome of his physical injuries.
The curtains were still drawn around the bed by the window. Debbie was busy near the door, arranging a vase of flowers on Sam’s locker. She abandoned the red roses and moved swiftly when she saw Wendy enter the room, intercepting her well before she got near the curtained corner.
‘Ross is asleep,’ Debbie informed her colleague. ‘And he’s asked not to be disturbed.’
‘I won’t disturb him,’ Wendy promised. ‘I’ll just sit and wait till he wakes up.’
‘He’s asked not to have any visitors.’
‘He didn’t mean me, Debs. He would have said that because of that guy you saw by the noticeboard earlier. The one that sneaked in outside visiting hours. I’m sure Ross just wants to make sure that Kyle doesn’t bother him again.’
Debbie was avoiding her gaze. ‘Sorry, Wendy. I know you guys are having a bit of a rough time. I think he just wants a bit of space.’
‘What did he say exactly?’
‘That he didn’t want to see anybody.’ Debbie looked very apologetic as she finally gave Wendy a direct look.
‘Even me?’ The pause was long enough to warn Wendy that she wasn’t going to like the answer.
‘Especially you.’