As Jack was pushed swiftly down the hospital corridor, the wheelchair pulled naturally to the left, and he could feel the paramedic pulling on the right handle and pushing on the left one, just to keep the decrepit heap of junk in a straight line. This twisting motion moved Jack in his seat and made him feel even sicker than he did already, as did the bump and click on each rotation of the back wheel, while strip-lights on the ceiling were so bright that Jack kept his eyes almost closed, just to cope with the pain inside his head.
He tried to ignore it by listening to Ridley’s handover to the ED doctor.
‘He was hit in the head with a crowbar about five hours ago. He was checked by paramedics who said he had concussion and they couldn’t rule out a fracture. Then he jumped in a helicopter and flew to London where he was in a physical, one-on-one confrontation with a suspect that resulted in his head injury re-opening, a stab wound to his forearm and, well, I don’t know what else.’
Jack couldn’t see the doctor’s face, but he heard his heavy sigh.
In resus, Jack was helped onto a bed and his rucksack, which had been hanging on the back of the wheelchair, was put into a transparent property bag and placed underneath. He was then cut out of his clothes, while nurses attached various machines to his body. The doctor came out with a slew of letters that meant very little to Jack. He understood ‘ECG’ and ‘BP’, and he’d heard ‘GCS’, ‘FBCs’, and ‘U&Es’ said numerous times whilst watching Casualty with Maggie, but he had no clue what any of it actually meant. He wished she was here.
A male nurse wearing John Lennon glasses, who looked to Jack to be about 13 years old, leant in close by the side of Jack’s head, as everyone else worked above him and around him. ‘My name’s Noah. So, what we’re doing is we’re making sure there are no obvious worries, such as internal bleeding. Then, we’ll take you to CT to get a scan of your head. I need to ask you some questions, Jack. You up for that? Can I call you Jack?’
Jack had no idea how many hands were on him, but it felt like dozens. Someone was definitely pressing his abdomen and saying there was ‘guarding on the left’ and someone else was trying for a third time to insert a needle into the crook of his arm. He looked over Noah’s head to Ridley who was wiggling his mobile in the air and mouthing ‘Maggie’. Jack gave him the thumbs-up and Ridley left resus to make the call. Jack then heard Noah ask him if there was any history of medical problems in his family and Jack realised that he didn’t know. He could hear himself saying, ‘My dad died of cancer . . . no, no he was shot. My old mum was killed by a brain tumour. But my new mum’s alive.’
At this point, Noah gave up. ‘The morphine’s kicked in. I’ll get his notes instead.’
Ridley spoke so quietly and calmly that Maggie didn’t feel worried, because he wasn’t. ‘Take your time, Maggie. He’s in resus at the moment, and needs to go to CT before anyone will be allowed to see him, so . . . sorry, I forgot you work here. All you need to know is that he’s fine and I’ll not leave his side until you arrive.’ Maggie asked nothing about Jack’s injuries or how he acquired them. She didn’t want to burden Ridley with the responsibility of trying to explain.
An hour later, Jack’s bed was parked in an ED cubicle, where he was told he’d stay until the results of his CT scan had come back. He wore nothing but an open-backed gown and Noah, who was folding his ruined clothes into the transparent property bag on top of the small black rucksack, had an inexplicable smirk on his face. Jack, now on strong pain medication, was more comfortable. His head and body felt like lead, but there was far less pain. Noah couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. ‘We’ve all been admiring your tan, Detective.’ Jack breathed out a weak laugh, which Noah took as permission to continue. ‘Your head, hands and feet look like they’ve been on holiday!’ Noah giggled as he put the property bag back underneath Jack’s bed. ‘OK, Jack, you’ve got a bit of a wait now till we get your results, but – sneak preview – Dr Okoya, our bang-on-the-head specialist, isn’t unduly worried. I mean, you look like you’ve fallen down a mine shaft but, all things considered, you’re in good nick.’ Noah leant in close to Jack again and lowered his voice. ‘That straight-lace in a suit who came in with you? That your boss?’ Jack immediately recognised the description as being Ridley. ‘Only I’m hearing all sorts of good things about that man from the nurses! Something about singing to babies?’
At that exact moment, Ridley approached. Noah stood bolt upright, put Jack’s buzzer within reach and then walked away singing the same lullaby Ridley sang at Hannah’s naming ceremony, the only difference being that Noah got all of the words right!
‘I’ve just arrested Alberto for, amongst other things, your attempted murder,’ Ridley announced. Now that he was sure Jack was going to live, Ridley had reverted to his official persona. ‘I’ll escort him to the station as soon as he’s fit to move.’
‘Don’t let him see Betina,’ Jack told him. ‘She makes him strong. And wind him up, ’cos he’s got a short fuse. But have someone in the room with you when you do.’ Ridley nodded his understanding. Jack had never actually seen Ridley in a physical confrontation but imagined that most villains would probably underestimate him. Most people, in fact.
Jack then asked how Maggie took the news of him being in hospital. ‘I didn’t go into detail,’ Ridley replied. ‘I said you’d been injured but were OK. I mentioned the CT. You can tell her the rest when she gets here. I didn’t want her overly worried while she was driving.’
‘Did we get Adidas Man?’ Jack asked.
Ridley chuckled. ‘Oaks did. He can’t wait to tell you all about it. Tomorrow, I’m going to head back to Chipping Norton to debrief with DCI Hearst.’
Jack smirked at the words ‘debrief with DCI Hearst’. Ridley noticed but didn’t seem to understand. He put Jack’s grin down to the morphine and continued: ‘I’ll also talk to Hearst about setting your Judas Horse free.’ Jack’s smirk disappeared and, although he said nothing, his eyes betrayed his heartfelt gratitude. ‘Charlotte won’t get away scot free, I’m afraid. I’ll do my best for her but . . . she gave target names to De Voe. I promise you this, though, Jack: the only person Charlotte will have to explain herself to is Annie. I’ll protect her from any community backlash.’
Jack nodded. ‘Thank you.’ Life’s moral grey area wasn’t a natural or satisfying place for Ridley to be, but he’d go there for Jack.
The next thirty minutes were taken up by Jack talking Ridley through the events that had taken place in De Voe’s office. It certainly wasn’t an official statement, but Ridley knew that Jack might recall now something he could later forget. Especially if he ended up having full sedation for any reason. This conversation was brought to an end by Maggie arriving. She hugged Ridley for longer than she’d ever hugged him before.
‘Thank you for looking after my Jack,’ she said simply.
He nodded, then left them together.
Maggie’s eyes explored Jack’s body, taking in every cut and bruise, every dressing that hid an injury, every cannula sticking into him. By the time her eyes came to rest on his bruised and tired face, she knew all she needed to know. She lowered the bed rail, kissed his forehead, sat down on the low plastic chair next to him and held his hand. ‘Want to see a video of Hannah smiling?’
With that image firmly in his mind, all of the pressure, stress and fear from the day disappeared, and Jack felt the overwhelming relief of being alive. The tears came quickly from both of them.
Two hours later, Noah arrived to take Jack up to a ward. As predicted, his CT scan had revealed nothing concerning – but Dr Okoya had admitted him for one night’s observation. Maggie opened her shoulder bag and handed Noah a carrier bag filled with toiletries and a brand-new pair of pyjamas. Noah smiled to Maggie. ‘Are you coming up with us, Doctor? Jack’s on the same floor as Regina’s poor little baby.’