Could It Be Magic?. Melanie Rose

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Could It Be Magic? - Melanie Rose


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the nurse,’ he said, resting the flowers on the top of the cabinet. ‘He said you can go home as soon as you’re ready. He’ll be along in a moment to sort you out.’ He gestured to the flowers. ‘We may as well take these home with us.’

      The word ‘us’ sent another tremor down my spine, and I glanced up at him questioningly.

      He grinned with his piercing Brad Pitt eyes. ‘I’m assuming you’ll need a lift, as your car is presumably somewhere in a car park near the Downs?’

      Struggling to keep the excitement out of my voice, I nodded. ‘That would be very kind of you.’

      ‘It won’t be the first time you’ve been in my car, after all,’ he joked. ‘Only last time you were unconscious and dripping rainwater all over the upholstery.’

      The nurse arrived with a bundle of clothing and asked if I wanted Dan on the inside or the outside of the curtain while I changed. I smiled inwardly at the assumption that Dan was my boyfriend. Dan held up his hands as the curtain was pulled round the bed and stepped smartly out into the ward.

      The nurse produced a pair of scissors from his short tunic pocket and snipped off my plastic nametag. ‘The gauze dressing can come off in a few days,’ he said. ‘If you have any trouble see your GP, but your burns are minor. You were lucky to be wearing such a thick jacket.’ He straightened up. ‘There you are. Free to go. And next time stay indoors during thunderstorms!’

      Slipping out of bed, I pulled off the thin hospital gown and laid it on the bed. It felt strange being upright; I was still a little shaky. Sinking down on the bed again I struggled into my underclothes, careful to position my bra strap well away from the sore spot on my shoulder, then pulled the jeans up and fastened them. Someone must have dried them for me overnight because although they were encrusted with mud they were bone dry. It was when I unfolded the sweater that I realised what the nurse had meant about how lucky I’d been to be virtually unscathed. On the back of the left shoulder was a blackened scorch mark about the size of an orange.

      Gingerly, I smoothed out the old-fashioned sheepskin coat I used for dog walking. My mother had been going to donate it to a jumble sale years ago and had given it to me when I’d exclaimed how useful it would be for walking Frankie on the Downs in all weathers. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck when I looked at the area around the shoulder where the lightning had struck. It had actually run into a singed mess closely resembling melted plastic.

      Shuddering, I realised how close I must have come to being as badly injured as the Lauren of my dream. Was this ancient coat all that had stood between me and possible death? Tracing the burned area with my finger, I felt my mouth dry. If this vicious burn had been directed onto my skin and not deflected by the thick natural fabric of the coat, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

      A measured Indian accent popped from the recesses of my brain. ‘In some cases this spark can generate a temperature of thirty thousand degrees centigrade, Lauren—about six times hotter than the surface of the sun.’

      Oh no, I thought with a sickening jolt. Where had that come from?

      I felt queasy suddenly, and was wondering if the hospital would give me a bowl to take with me in Dan’s car, when he stuck his head round the curtain.

      ‘You all right?’

      Rubbing my face with my hands, I smiled wanly up at him. ‘I feel a bit sick actually. Is the nurse still around?’

      ‘I’ll go look.’

      He came back quickly with the nurse in tow, who was all kindness and sympathy.

      ‘Do you want to wait here a while? See if it passes?’ The nurse felt my forehead with his hand. ‘It is possible the lightning has upset your ears, given you a sort of motion sickness. It has been known to cause deafness. Maybe I should fetch the doctor to check that out. Is your hearing okay? Your vision and everything all right?’

      I nodded. ‘I’m fine, honestly, just feeling a bit sick. I was remembering a dream I had while I was unconscious. It made me feel strange, that’s all. Could I take a bowl with me, just in case?’

      ‘Of course,’ the nurse replied soothingly. ‘But I will also fetch Dr Chin to have a quick look at you. I’m sure it’s nothing to be alarmed about.’

      Dan came through the curtain a moment after the nurse had left and sat next to me on the unmade bed. ‘He said I could come in and keep you company. That okay with you?’

      I nodded again, swallowing hard to keep the tears of self-pity at bay.

      ‘I feel so stupid,’ I said between gulps. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with me, but I keep remembering this dream I had while I was unconscious…it seemed so real.’

      ‘The nurse said you might feel disorientated for a day or two.’ He smiled sheepishly. ‘I think they assume I’m your boyfriend. They’ve told me to keep an eye on you and treat you gently for a few days.’

      ‘Oh,’ I said lamely, looking down at my hands, which were folded in my lap.

      ‘If you don’t feel up to driving, I’ll drop you and Frankie at your home, then make myself scarce—if there’s someone there to take care of you.’

      I knew it was a question rather than a statement, and I shook my head again.

      ‘There’s no one, not at present. And my parents live miles away.’ I hesitated. ‘But a lift to my car will be fine. I can take care of myself.’

      ‘I’m sure you can,’ he replied with a smile. ‘And I know we’re almost strangers. It’s just that I feel I’ve known you for years. And I want to make sure you’re okay.’

      I was saved from having to reply by Dr Chin pulling the curtains apart and advancing on me with a slim torch. He peered into each of my ears in turn, then screwed an attachment onto the torch and asked me to look directly into the beam of light.

      ‘Hmm,’ he murmured, lifting one lid and then the other. ‘Everything looks good, Ms Taylor, but I suggest you have an eye check at your optician in a week or so. Sometimes sufferers of high-voltage injury develop cataracts at a later date.’

      ‘Thank you,’ I muttered, sliding off the bed. ‘So I can go?’

      He nodded as the nurse arrived with a grey cardboard bowl loosely wrapped in a paper bag. I took it gratefully, and Dan picked up the flowers, then steadied me by my elbow as we made our way down the ward. ‘Frankie’s waiting in the car,’ he told me as we took the lift down to the lobby and walked out into the autumn sunshine. ‘She’ll be pleased to see you back.’

      We walked to the car park to see Frankie and the black Labrador peering out of the back window of a silver Shogun, seemingly watching for us. Predictably, my precious terrier went mad with joy when we opened the passenger door, and I spent the next five minutes having my face licked as I sat in the passenger seat waiting for her to calm down. Eventually, Dan lifted her off me and into the back where she was unable to get to me through the dog grille. She sat down resignedly next to the Lab with her tongue lolling out.

      We drove carefully out of the hospital car park and Dan glanced sideways at me as I sat clutching the bowl on my lap.

      ‘How are you feeling?’

      ‘Relieved,’ I said. ‘Glad to be out in the real world again.’

      ‘Where am I taking you?’

      ‘My car’s parked up by the grandstand,’ I replied.

      I felt in my coat pockets as I spoke, my fingers probing for my car keys, but I looked up as Dan rattled a bunch of keys at me.

      ‘I found them when I was searching your pockets for your identity,’ he explained. ‘I didn’t think of Frankie’s disc straight away. I decided they’d be safer with me than in a hospital box with your things. I hope you don’t mind.’

      Taking the keys from him, I thought


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