Her sleeping mat must have sprung a leak and deflated. The ground seemed so much harder than before. And her head hurt. How much had she drunk? Her knee hurt too. Why was that?
There were voices – mumbling, indistinct. She could not make out the words.
She was not on her sleeping mat. She was lying on tarmac, with nothing beneath her and no sleeping bag. Someone was holding her hand. The someone was murmuring to her, but she could not work out what he was saying. Her head was throbbing.
There was a horrible noise, a siren. Through her closed eyes she could see flashing lights, enough to bring on a migraine. She did not get migraines but this flashing, this intense pain in her head – maybe that’s what it was. She tried opening her eyes. There was a white blur leaning over her. It was night-time. The flashing lights were blue.
The voices were still mumbling around her, but one was beginning to rise above the others, becoming more distinct. It was closer to her than the others, she thought. Her hand was being squeezed. Her head was pounding.
Words began emerging from the fog, but she could not yet put them in any sequence that made sense. Laura. Ambulance soon. Safe now. Police here. Stuart.
Stuart! She’d been talking to Stuart. He was drunk. Something had happened.
Don’t try to move. Ambulance will be here soon.
That made some sense. Was someone hurt, then? The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t Stuart. Why did her knee hurt?
Further away there was shouting. Arguing. And those blue flashing lights. The shouting was Stuart, she realised. She tried again to open her eyes fully. The pale shape was a face, with little fireworks going off all around it. It was the one talking to her. Tom.
‘Wha – what happened?’ She tried to form the words, but it made her head hurt even more.
‘That bastard Stuart head-butted you. Not sure it was entirely accidental. Lie still, Laura. Don’t try to move. The ambulance will be here soon.’
‘Stuart did this?’
‘Yes.’ Tom squeezed her hand again, and she realised he was sitting on the ground with her. ‘The police are here. They seem to be having a bit of trouble getting him into the police car though.’
‘He’s being arrested?’
‘Too right he is. He’ll be charged with assault, or GBH, I bet. Don’t waste time worrying about that insult to humanity. Does your head hurt?’
She tried to nod, but that made it worse, and the fireworks came quicker and faster. ‘Yes, it does. And my knee.’
He moved to look at it, and she saw he had blood all over his face. ‘You’re hurt too?’
‘Not really. Just a nosebleed. Nothing to worry about. Your knee looks swollen. I think you fell on it hard when you went down.’
‘Ugh. Can’t decide what hurts more, knee or head.’
Tom didn’t answer that, but looked away, his lips pinched tight.
A moment later he spoke again. ‘A cop’s coming over.’
‘Is she awake?’ a voice said.
‘Yes, but in pain,’ Tom replied.
‘OK. We’ll catch up with her in hospital. The ambulance is only minutes away now. We’ll need a statement from each of you. Where will we be able to find you tomorrow?’
‘I’m camping down the road,’ Tom said, ‘but right now I’ll go with Laura to the hospital. I’m not leaving her.’
‘OK. I’ll just take your phone number, if I may.’
Tom gave it to him, and the policeman walked away. She heard a car engine start up, and the crunch of tyres on gravel as it pulled away.
Tom heaved a sigh of relief. ‘That’s Stuart out of the way, then. The ambulance should be here very soon. In fact –’ he stood up and craned his neck – ‘it’s here now. I’m coming with you, by the way.’
She smiled weakly at him. She should probably tell him no, she’d be OK, he should go to the campsite and get some sleep, but she realised she would appreciate him staying at her side. God, how her head and knee hurt! At least the flashing fireworks seemed to be subsiding a little.
It was a long night, involving a bumpy, painful journey in the ambulance, lots of doctors in white coats and nurses in blue tunics, lots of form-filling, X-rays of her knee, a scan of her head, questions about her medical history, being shunted from pillar to post and finally ending up in a side room off the main accident-and-emergency department. Through it all, Tom stayed by her side, holding her hand if he wasn’t in the way, helping provide details for the endless forms, keeping track of her belongings. She slept for a while, once she was settled in the ward, having been given painkillers. When she woke, Tom was still there beside her, sipping a cup of coffee. She suspected he had not slept a wink.
‘Morning,’ he said. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Sore. Better. A bit sick.’
He held a cardboard kidney-shaped dish in front of her while she vomited, and pressed the buzzer for a nurse.
‘It’s all right. You’re concussed, you’re bound to feel a bit nauseous. But we’ve checked your head and no lasting damage done.’ The nurse, a well-built middle-aged woman with a badge stating her name was Ayana, smiled broadly at her. ‘Feeling any better?’
‘A little. Headache’s not as bad.’
Ayana nodded, putting the sick bowl to one side. ‘Good, good. Now then, while I’m here I’ll just take your pulse and blood pressure.’ She did the tests and noted the results on the clipboard that hung on the end of the bed. ‘Hungry?’
‘A little,’ Laura said, though she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to eat anything.
‘Ha ha, I meant your poor boyfriend here, who’s been sitting at your side all night.’
Laura blinked at the word ‘boyfriend’, momentarily wondering if Stuart was nearby, before realising Ayana was referring to Tom. She began to explain but Ayana was still talking to him.
‘Sweetheart, there’s a café downstairs. It opens for breakfast at seven if you’d like to get yourself something. Just ten minutes to go. Laura here will have something about eight when the trolley comes round.’ Ayana smiled again and bustled off back out to the main ward.
‘I am a bit hungry. Might go and grab something really quickly, if you’re all right on your own for a few minutes?’ He looked worried, tired too.
‘I won’t go anywhere.’
Tom put the call-button on the bed beside her in easy reach and made her promise to buzz a nurse if she felt sick again. ‘I won’t be long. I promise.’
He was as good as his word. Laura had just about dozed off again when he returned and took up his position on a chair, holding her hand. She had never felt so cared for, not since she’d had chickenpox as a child and her mother had slept in her room for a week, sponging her fevered forehead and applying soothing calamine lotion to the hundreds of spots that had spread across her body.
‘The breakfast was good. Probably better than yours will be,’ he said, with a rueful smile.
‘I don’t care. When do you think they’ll let me out?’
‘In the afternoon, they said, when I asked them earlier. They like to keep concussion cases under observation for twelve to twenty-four hours, but if you’re not going to be on your own tonight they’ll let you out today.’
She frowned. ‘But I will be on my own.’
‘No, you won’t. You’re sharing my tent. I want to keep a close eye on you.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘And I’ll hear no arguments.’
She smiled. He sounded just like her mother had, back in those chickenpox days.
His eyes softened. ‘I care about you, you know. That git, Stuart. I can’t believe what he did.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to say she couldn’t believe it either, but actually, when she thought about it, his actions had probably been wholly in character. It had just taken her a long time to realise it. A long time, and having it rubbed in her face that time she’d found Stuart in bed with Martine. Well, if she hadn’t thought herself better off without Stuart before, she most certainly did so now. It was hard to imagine that she’d once thought she would be with Stuart for ever. Difficult to believe she’d spent so many years with him. Despite her fuzzy, concussed head she felt as though she was seeing things clearly now for the first time.
A police sergeant came to talk to them later in the morning, taking detailed statements from both of them. There had been other witnesses to the assault, and Stuart had been charged with Actual Bodily Harm.
‘Could be a prison sentence of up to six months,’ said the sergeant. ‘And it also sounds like you need to get a restraining order against him. He should not be allowed near you after what he’s done.’
‘He was so drunk,’ Laura said, recalling the stink of spirits on his breath.
‘Yes, but that’s no excuse. We found an empty bottle of vodka in the footwell of his car. He’d probably been knocking it back as he drove up here. Shame he wasn’t stopped, and had for that. Would have saved you your injuries.’
Laura shivered at the idea that Stuart could have caused a serious accident, driving in the state he’d been in.
‘Tea, folks?’ The nurse Ayana poked her head around the door. ‘Might be able to rustle up a biscuit or two as well.’
The sergeant grinned and nodded. ‘Most kind, thank you.’
Ayana gave a thumbs-up and disappeared.
‘They treating you well here?’
‘Definitely, especially Ayana.’
‘When will you be discharged?’
‘This afternoon, I think,’ Laura replied, glancing at Tom who nodded. She shifted in bed and winced a bit as the pain from her badly bruised knee flared up.
‘Good. Glad there’s nothing too serious. And will you be heading home? You’re on holiday here as I understand it.’
Laura blinked. She had not thought about that. Going home to Gran made some sense, as she knew she needed some time to recover fully, with her feet up. But going home meant a long uncomfortable drive. Besides, she hadn’t had a chance to look for Gran’s precious tea caddy. ‘Not yet. I’ve injured my knee as well, and don’t think I could drive all that way for a few days. So I’m probably better off sitting on my deckchair at the campsite, while Tom here fetches me cups of tea and bacon butties from the shop.’
‘Anything to please her ladyship,’ Tom said, with a grin and a roll of his eyes.
‘Besides,’ Laura said, looking at Tom, ‘we’ve still got to go back to Brackendale and look for Gran’s tin box.’
‘Not for a day or two. You’re in no fit state to go tramping around the reservoir.’
He was right. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to walk at all with her injured knee.
She could walk, as she discovered later, after the police sergeant had left and the physiotherapist had been round, but only on crutches. She was issued with a pair, given some painkilling drugs and a warning to take things easy for at least three days, and then around lunchtime Ayana came to her with a discharge paper to sign.
‘You can stay and have lunch first, but you might prefer to go to the café upstairs for more choice or go someplace else. Up to you. Been lovely having you.’ She smiled her broad smile at Laura, who signed the document.
‘I think we’ll go. Thanks so much for everything.’
‘No problem. Come back to A&E if you get any further dizziness or confusion, won’t you? I don’t think you will, but just in case.’
‘We’ll need to get a taxi,’ Tom said.
‘Where are you staying?’
‘Glydesdale campsite.’
‘Oh, that’s a fair old way by taxi. Listen, I’m off shift in twenty minutes. I live out towards Glydesdale. I’ll give you a lift. It’s not much out of my way.’
‘Would you? That’s beyond the call of duty. But thank you.’
It was early afternoon when they arrived back at the campsite, thanking Ayana profusely for her help as she dropped them off beside Tom’s tent.
Tom fussed around, fetching Laura’s deckchair, and making a footstool for her using his cool-box. He bought sandwiches, cakes and two cups of tea from the campsite shop and they picnicked in the sunshine. It wasn’t as hot as the previous days – there were wispy clouds in the sky and a light breeze.
‘I don’t reckon the weather will hold much longer,’ Tom said, gazing up at the sky as he sipped his tea.
‘What’s the forecast?’ Laura asked. Typical, just as she was forced to do nothing but sit and sunbathe for a few days the weather was about to turn.
‘Some rain tomorrow. Then it should clear up for a couple of days before a spell of bad weather.’
Laura pulled a face. ‘I really want to get back to Brackendale and search for Gran’s tea caddy. Hope the rain tomorrow doesn’t make it impossible to get to the village ruins.’
‘It’s due to rain on and off from mid-morning. Won’t be enough to fill the reservoir – that’ll take months. But it’ll make the lake surface pretty muddy. The day after is fine. We could go back there then. Question is, will you be fit enough?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, a day’s rest will sort out my knee, I’m sure.’ A thought had occurred to her. Once the weather turned, Tom would surely pack up and go home. Indeed, she only had a few days left herself before she was due back at work, assuming her knee healed in time. Would they ever see each other again? She’d enjoyed Tom’s company so much these last few days. It was hard to believe it was only five days since they’d met – she was already thinking of him as a good friend. And as that kiss had shown, there was a physical attraction there too. Stuart’s behaviour had helped her realise she was truly over him, and perhaps ready to begin a tentative new relationship. Could Tom perhaps be feeling the same way? Or was he still too scarred by what his ex, Sarah, had done to him? He’d said the kiss meant nothing; it was only due to the romance of that perfect evening under the stars. But Laura was beginning to realise that for her part, given time, their relationship could develop into something significantly more. If only they had more time to get to know each other slowly. She knew he lived on the western edge of London, about twenty miles from Gran’s home. So if he was interested and if she felt ready, it would be possible for them to continue a relationship, albeit one where they’d have to travel at weekends to see each other. A lot of ‘ifs’, she realised. But who knew? For now, she could only take things one day at a time.
‘Penny for them?’ Tom said, breaking into her thoughts.
She smiled up at him. ‘Just thinking what a fabulous week it’s been, up till last night. Shame the weather has to change.’
‘Ah, Laura. Nothing lasts for ever.’
That was exactly what she was afraid of.
That evening, after a meal of fried sausages and baked beans cooked on their two camping stoves, Tom reorganised his tent to make space for her to share, and fetched her sleeping bag, mat, clothes and wash-things from her own tent. He would not listen to any protestations that she would be all right on her own, and in any case, she rather liked the idea of lying next to him all night.
The sun was just setting as she hobbled over to the facilities block on her crutches, for a shower. Thankfully there was a bench in the shower cubicle so she could sit down rather than try to balance on her bad leg. It was good to feel clean again, and in clean pyjamas. It was early but they were both exhausted after the sleepless night in hospital.
‘There’s something almost decadent about going to bed before it’s completely dark, isn’t there?’ Tom commented, when she returned from her shower. ‘I mean, as a child you hate it, and protest against it in the summer. At least, I did. But as an adult, it’s delicious to get to bed so early, knowing you can sleep for the next twelve hours.’ His eyes had dark shadows beneath them.
‘You need more than twelve hours, by the look of you,’ she replied playfully.
‘So do you, Ms Concussed Hopalong.’
‘Hey, I’d hit you with my crutch for that, only I’d probably fall over if I did,’ she laughed.
He helped her into the tent, tucking the crutches under the flysheet alongside the tent when she’d finished with them. She wriggled into her sleeping bag, took her evening painkillers and settled down to wait for him to join her. He seemed to be an age getting ready, and she almost dozed off. At last he crawled in beside her and zipped up the tent. He was still dressed in the jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing since the previous evening. She debated turning her back while he undressed, but that would mean lying on her bad knee. Instead, she closed her eyes, only opening them again when he’d stopped shuffling around and she calculated he was probably settled in his sleeping bag.
He wasn’t. He was sitting up, arms wrapped around his knees, wearing only a pair of boxers. In the light of the head torch he’d hung from the roof of the tent she could see he had a muscular torso, broad hairless chest, well-defined biceps. She closed her eyes again, embarrassed to be caught staring. But he’d been staring at her too, she was sure. He’d obviously noticed her looking as it seemed to spur him into action again, and soon she sensed he was lying down, his face inches from hers.
‘Well, goodnight then,’ he said, as he clicked off the head torch.
‘Night.’ She lay quietly, staring into the darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust.
She felt his breath on her cheek and tensed, wondering if he was going to kiss her. He did – on her forehead. ‘So, sleep well. You need it.’
‘You too,’ she whispered back, and drifted off into a deep, much-needed slumber feeling secure and safe.