May, After the Storm
Nurse Kelly sits waiting for the boat to take her over to Tresco, glad of a few minutes to herself.
Sitting alongside her are two little ones eating ice creams, excited by the activity in the harbour, the mother and father enjoying the innocent pleasures of holidaying in this delightful destination.
‘We’re going to see the whales!’ announces the taller of the children.
‘The whales!’ echoes the other.
‘Well, we might not see them,’ says the mother, managing expectations. ‘They might be somewhere else. Or asleep. Or …’
Kelly wishes she too could go out on a pleasure trip to see the whales, but all she can see is her patient’s face – not just the injuries, but the expression of terror. The poor thing flinches at any sudden movement. When Kelly accidentally knocked her phone off the hospital bed onto the floor, the girl actually yelped. 55
The mother turns to Kelly and says, ‘We love coming here. It’s so … you know, wholesome.’
Kelly forces a smile in return.
The sun today is relentlessly jolly, the birds and the harbour master delightfully chirpy, but two women have been attacked and another is still missing. Hardly wholesome.