Crossing The Line Chapter 19 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

Dave and Jenny sat by the bedside, they watched Drew like hawks, hoping to spot the smallest sign that he was returning to consciousness. The machine bleeped away in the background, showing his cardiac output, which was okay. His nurse, Maureen, came and went checking blood pressures and temperatures on a regular basis. Things were slowly coming back to normal.

Jenny eventually had to go for a toilet break, which left Dave alone with Drew. He sat alongside the bed, clutching his son’s hand. “Gaby, no matter what our ups and downs have been, they are in the past. We all love you very much no matter whether you are a boy or a girl. Just come back to us, and we’ll help you be whoever you want to be. I hope you can hear me in there, I wish you could let me know.

I love you kiddo, so do your mum and Jules, and… Nan was asking after you too, …she sends her love. So do Maddy and Carol…Maddy and Jules will be in to see you a little later…Anyway, the sooner you get better, the quicker you can get out on your bike again…..

I know your mother is looking forward to riding with you again…so you just get better.”

He was so rapt in what he was doing, he didn’t notice Jenny stood with the nurse at the edge of the cubicle, both of them wet-eyed, as they watched his struggle to express his love and hope while hiding his fears and dread.

He looked up and saw the two women. “I thought I’d have a chat with her,” he said feeling very self-conscious.

“That’s something we encourage. Just because people are apparently unconscious, doesn’t mean they can’t hear. Often they can, which means they can feel some reassurance from their loved ones, so be careful what you say.” Offered Maureen, and both Jenny and Dave understood the implicit undertones of her warning.

The worried parents continued their vigil. Dr Mitchum called by, “Let’s see how she’s doing,” he said as he examined the chart. “She’s doing as well as can be expected.”

“Oh!” gasped Jenny.

“Don’t worry, Mrs Bond, she’s doing alright, aren’t you old girl?” He patted the teen on his shoulder, then stroking Drew on the cheek, said, “Temperature’s coming back to normal, which is a good sign, isn’t it young lady?” He stroked Drew’s cheek again, “Soon be back on your bike again, eh?” Then smiling at the two parents he strolled off to his next patient.

“Well he sounds confident enough,” said Dave with far more emphasis than he would normally have expressed.

“Course he does, that’s our Gaby he’s talking about. She’s not going to let this stop her from winning races. Except, of course, she does love her bed. Hurry up girl, or you’ll miss out on some of your training,” Jenny tried to sound jovial hiding her true fears.

Maureen arrived with a huge bouquet of flowers, “Someone loves her,” she quipped.

Jenny, looked at the card, “They’re from Harry and his family, he says, ‘Hurry up and get well, I need some more training rides. Love Harry.’ They’re lovely flowers Gaby, all sorts of blues and yellows and whites. Someone must be very fond of you to send those.”

As she put them down on the cubicle locker, Maureen looked quizzically at Jenny. “Harry’s her unofficial boyfriend, a neighbour’s kid, who follows her around like a puppy dog. He’s taken up cycling just to go out with her.”

“She cycles does she?” asked Maureen.

“She’s a national junior champion,” said Jenny, with some pride.

“Goodness! My son likes riding his bike, but he’s never tried racing.”

“If he’s interested have a word at your local bike shop, they’ll have some contact numbers.”

“I don’t know if he’d be good enough.”

“No one is to start with, but good clubs develop young riders, help them see their potential.”

“You belong to a club, do you?” asked Maureen of Jenny.

“She’s a professional rider,” answered a strange male voice.

“Oh, Dr Holland, I didn’t see you come in,” said Maureen.

“This is, unless I am very much mistaken, Mrs Jenny Bond, the current UCI women’s world champion,” he beamed, “I’m Patrick Holland, delighted to meet you.”

Still slightly flustered, Maureen said, “Dr Holland is the senior consultant in thoracic medicine.”

Dave looked a little puzzled. “I do chest infections,” said the doctor. They both smiled at him. “I take it you’re this lovely lady’s hubby and this pretty girl’s, dad?” He offered his hand to Dave, who shook it warmly.

“Dave Bond,” he said, smiling.

After the courtesies were over Dr Holland checked out the charts and the machines. He went over to Drew, and examined his pupils with a small torch. He hummed to himself. “Well, Gaby, “ he said addressing the prone teen, “You’re doing all right. I’m adding another antibiotic I think will help and with a bit of luck, you should feel a whole lot better soon.”

“So, how much racing are you missing?” Holland asked Jenny.

“I’ve missed a world cup race, but my kids are more important.”

“Quite so, but it’s nice to see a British rider winning something occasionally. You’ll have to watch out for young Cooke, though. She’s got enormous potential.”

“She has indeed. Sadly we haven’t raced against each other, one or other of us has been injured.”

“Yes, dangerous business, cycling. Well, lovely to have met you, good luck with the next race,” he smiled and went off.

“He fancies himself as a Lance wotshisname,” quipped Maureen, sniggering.

“Armstrong, Lance Armstrong, the American rider.”

“That’s the fellah,” she said nodding, “ Dunno how good he is at riding a bike, but you watch, Dr Mitchum will be back in a minute to see what he’s done.”

Jenny felt a bit worried over what Maureen had said, “Is he no good then, at the medicine bit.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. He knows what he’s about, but he and Mitchum are great rivals.”

“Does Dr Mitchum cycle too?” asked Dave trying to understand what was going on.

“No. They’re great rivals for the ladies,” Maureen blushed a little as she said this. They prowl about like two wolves, watching each other, in case one goes out with a prettier girl than the other. Look out, here comes Dr Mitchum.”

Mitchum bustled in, and checked the charts again. “I see you’ve met Dr Holland. Ah, good man, I asked him about changing the antibiotic, and I see he agrees. We’ll have you up in no time, young lady,” he said squeezing Drew’s toes at the end of the bed. He nodded to the worried parents and Maureen and went off again.

Maureen disappeared and then returned with a small receiver and a syringe, she proceeded to add its contents to Drew’s drip. “The new antibiotics,” she explained.

The day slipped by and Carol and the two girls arrived. “Only two to a bed, I’m afraid,” said Maureen.

Jenny went to collect the small case of underwear and the night dress. Jules rushed into the cubicle and stopped suddenly. She looked at the little figure connected up to all the machines and drips, dwarfed by the technology. Dave, recognising her shock, walked up to her and whispered, “We don’t know how much she can hear, so don’t say anything negative.” Jules nodded an understanding.

“Is she gonna be okay?” she hissed back at her dad.

“I don’t know, love. The doctors sound optimistic, but I don’t know.”

“Poor Gabs,” said Jules, and with tears in her eyes, she hugged her father. Then recovering her composure, she sat by the bedside, “Hi Gabs,” she said with false optimism, “Hope the bed’s comfortable, what’s the food like?” She prattled on for a couple of minutes, alternating chatting with squeezing Drew’s hand.

Jenny came back, “Dave, why don’t you come with Carol and me to the restaurant for a cuppa, and Maddy can sit in with Jules?” Dave felt a little reluctant to leave his post. “They’ll send for us if there’s any change.”

Finally, he agreed and Maddy walked into the hi-tech cubicle. “Like, wow!” she said, “Gabs, you should see this, it’s like Star Trek.” She had been briefed on what not to say, and she understood. So, she and Jules kept the conversation to more of a banter than anything else. Between them, they squeezed Drew’s hands like two oranges in a juicer, but if he could feel anything, he’d know they were there.

Maureen came over and talked with the two girls, “Goodness!” she exclaimed, “Are you two twins?” she asked Maddy, and you must be Gaby’s cousin?” she said to Jules.

“People are always thinking that,” said Maddy, “I’m actually her cousin and this is Jules, her sister.” Jules blushed and so did Maureen.

“That is a surprise, she looks so much like you, or would do with a hair comb.”

“Can I brush her hair?” asked Maddy.

“If you do it gently,” agreed Maureen.

Maddy reached into her bag and pulled out a small hairbrush. She leant over Drew and began to slowly and gently brush his hair. “And what happened to the rollers, young lady?” she said with mock annoyance, “You weren’t supposed to go swimming in them.” She pottered about with Drew’s hair for a few minutes, “There, that looks better. A bit of lippy and you’d be ready for anything.”

As she sat down, Drew coughed. Both Jules and Maddy were taken by surprise as he grasped both their hands very tightly, and coughed again. Maureen came rushing in, she helped clear his mouth of the greeny brown phlegm. Momentarily, his eyes flickered open and Maddy was sure she saw him smile, then he slipped away again.

“What’s that slimy stuff?” asked Maddy, of the nurse.

“That my dear is phlegm. Her lungs are full of that stuff which is why she’s in here. That it’s starting to break up, is a good sign; that she coughed is even better.”

“She’s gonna like, be alright, isn’t she?” asked Maddy, dropping the façade of banter, as the reality broke through her attempts to ignore it.

“I think so, she’s a fighter I’m told.”

“On a bike she is,” said Jules, joining in the conversation, and wanting to reinforce the positives, “Aren’t you girl?” she said to her brother and squeezed his hand again. Suddenly she began to laugh, “She squeezed me back.” Turning to Drew, she said, “You squeezed me back Gabs, you can hear me.” She looked with tearful eyes towards the nurse, wanting reassurance that things were improving.

“She very likely can hear you, and the squeeze might have been deliberate or an unconscious movement. Ask her to do it again.”

“Gabs, can you hear me? If you can, squeeze my hand.” There was no response. “Pretend I’m Harry, squeeze his hand.” Still no response.

“Come on Gabs, it’s Maddy, how about giving me a squeeze,” she leant over and kissed the unconscious boy on the cheek, and deliberately rubbed her breast against his fingers, out of sight of the nurse and to Jules’s surprise. Despite this treat, Drew remained unresponsive.

“Don’t people get brain damage if they’re unconscious for long?” Maddy asked the nurse, having walked out of the cubicle with her.

“Unconsciousness can be caused by brain damage, but this is the infection, plus she’s on a sedative, to keep her calm.

“So she’s alright then?”

“She’s doing okay, it’s a massive infection she has.”

“But, she’s like, gonna be okay?” asked Maddy.

“I can’t tell you that, because I don’t know. All I do know is she is holding her own, her kidneys and heart are okay and she is breathing by herself. It’s all positive stuff, but it depends upon her constitution and the cleverness of the doctors, plus a bit of luck.”

“Oh!” said Maddy, “When will we know?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Up in the restaurant, Carol said, “Matt called around, to see if there was anything he could do.”

“That was nice of him,” said Jenny sipping her tea.

“He wanted to send some flowers, but I told him they only allow so many,” continued Carol, “I see someone sent some.”

“Yes, Harry,” smiled Jenny.

“That boy must have shares in Covent Garden,” said Carol, “I’ve lost count of how often he’s sent or bought her some over the last two or three weeks.”

“I think it’s rather nice these days, don’t you?” said Jenny, looking directly at Dave.

“I’ve sent you plenty of flowers,” he grumbled back.

“I wasn’t complaining love, I just said, I thought it was a nice gesture;” she squeezed his hand, and he responded with a little squeeze back and a smile.

“Did you bring in the nightie?” said Jenny to Carol.

“Yes, it’s there plus a light dressing gown from Maddy, and some knickers and even a bra; some of her favourite toiletries, and her comb.”

“Thanks; we can’t use her stuff until they disengage the machines, but it should make her feel a bit more comfy then. I’ll have to try and get another one,” commented Jenny.

“She got one for Maddy in Debenhams, I’ll pop in there tomorrow for you, see what they’ve got.”

“Thanks,” said Jenny, “We do appreciate your help.”

“Well, it’s partly my fault all this happened,” said Carol, “If I hadn’t brought them down here…”

“Don’t feel responsible,” said Dave, “These things just happen, it’s not your fault.”

“Course it isn’t,” added Jenny

The girls came out and Carol went in with Jenny, then she left with the girls, and Jenny and Dave went back to their vigil. Neither would agree that they nodded off, nor would they accept that they were both asleep when Drew coughed again. Maureen’s replacement Irene, however, heard the noise and went to check. Drew was lying with his eyes open and some slimy drool down his cheek. He coughed again, and Irene wiped out his mouth. He mouthed a thank you and half smiled. “Would you like a drink?” she asked him. He indicated ‘yes’, and she poured him a little into a cup with a straw, and he sipped just a little. Then she roused the sleeping parents.

“Gaby, you’re back with us,” said his mother with a joyful whoop.

“Hello, kiddo,” said his father, and stroked his cheek. Drew smiled and slipped back into a sleep.

“She’s very weak, but it looks as if things are going in the right direction,” said the nurse.

“How long before we know?” asked Jenny.

“That’s impossible to say, this is just the first of many steps, but at least it’s in the right direction. She was very ill and still has a long way to go. She must have a strong constitution to have survived at all. She had a massive infection and she seems to be coming through it.”

Dave and Jenny hugged, at last, the end might be in sight. The nurse approached them, “It’s entirely up to you, but if I were you, I’d go home and get some rest. If she does wake it will only be for moments at a time, so go and get some sleep and you’ll be fresh for her in the morning. If anything else happens, we’ll let you know, we have a phone number…”

They talked it over, it was midnight and the nurse seemed to make sense. So they went back to the cottage. It was difficult for either of them to sleep, but they managed to eventually drift off. At three in the morning, the phone rang. Dave stumbled out of bed, stubbing his toe as he lurched out to the hallway and the phone.

“Dave Bond…” he said.

“Hello Bond, don’t sound so tough now, eh! I hear Barbie’s in the hospital. Lotsa people die in hospital. Better make sure she gets bettah, I want her to be fit and healthy when I kill her.”

“You keep away from her, do you hear me you bloody maniac. Come near me or my family, and I shall kill you, you bastard!” Dave screamed down the phone. The line went dead.

When Jenny arrived a few moments later Dave was shaking with rage, there were tears running down his face and she had to wrestle with his fingers to make him let go of the phone. She knew who had called, she mouthed, ‘Meadows’ at him, and he nodded. She made him sit down and went off to put the kettle on. She also called the police and complained.

“Here,” she said as she handed him a cup of steaming tea. “What did he say?”

“He told me to make sure Gaby got well, so he could kill her.” He buried his head in his hands, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“I know love. It’s so hard, but Gaby needs us,” she reached over and took his hands in hers. “The police will get him, don’t worry.”

“They didn’t before, it was Gaby and Harry, who got him last time.” He stared into the carpet, “If I see him, so help me, I’ll swing for him.”

“Come on love, let’s go back to bed. Forget him, he’s not worth it.”

“I would very much enjoy killing him, slowly,” said Dave, in a tone that once more seemed devoid of any emotion.

“You’re frightening me,” said Jenny.

“I’m sorry, it’s what that swine has done to me. Come on let’s try and get some sleep.” They didn’t however, Dave tossed and turned and fumed, while Jenny worried. Meadows was winning, and he didn’t have to do anything much at all.

The next morning the police were there and said they had planted an intercept with Carol’s permission, so they had a tape of everything that was said. They once more advised Dave to cool the threats, in case Meadows used it against him. Dave agreed, but underneath his apparent calm, he was seething and only Meadows's blood would satisfy him. He hoped the police got him first, because, if Dave did, there would be no trial, just a burial in an unmarked grave. And if the bastard hurt any of his family, Dave would get even, if it took him forever.

As the police left, the phone rang. Everyone’s hair stood on end. Dave picked up the phone, “Bond,” he snapped.

“Hello Mr Bond, it’s Maureen from the hospital, Gaby is awake and asking for you, and could you bring in Bunny. Apparently, Maddy knows all about it.”

“Yes, of course, we’ll be in as soon as we can. Thanks Maureen.”

“Maddy, who or what is ‘Bunny?” asked Dave.

Maddy looked puzzled for a moment, then the light shone; “I’ll get it,” she ran up the stairs, and after a few minutes emerged with the small soft toy rabbit. “Harry gave it to her. She likes to sleep with it.”

Dave looked puzzled, shook his head and decided it was just one more thing he had to adapt to. He’d get used to it all, eventually. He regarded the toy in his hand, he sniffed it. It smelt vaguely of the toiletries he associated with Gaby. He squeezed it gently, and felt his eyes mist over. Just in time Jenny arrived and they went off to the hospital.