Page 56 of Five Things I Love About You

The events of the last few minutes had sobered me up, so I swung my leg back over my saddle and pedalled all the way here, checking the way on Google Maps every now and then.

Once I’d dumped my bike in the car park, I hurried towards the entrance and made my way straight to reception.

It turns out, though, that finding someone in a hospital when you don’t know their name is quite tricky, and the woman on reception looked particularly unimpressed at my description of a dark-haired man in a blood-spattered white shirt.

‘I’m sorry, without a name I’m afraid I can’t help you,’ she repeated with a withering look. ‘But if he’s been brought in by ambulance he’ll probably still be in A&E.’

‘Thank you.’

So that’s where I am right now, waiting and hoping to catch a glimpse of him so I can tell him I’m sorry and make sure he’s all right.

The waiting room is packed and a sign behind the receptionist says the estimated waiting time is five hours. People around me are in varying stages of boredom and pain, scrolling through phones, chatting, pacing up and down. A woman opposite has a young girl on her lap with her arm in a makeshift sling and she throws me a sympathetic smile. I smile back, then look away, feeling like a fraud.

Every time a trolley is wheeled past I glance up, hoping to see him. But so far, no luck.

I don’t know how much time passes, but finally, a door opens and a bed is pushed through, and somehow, even from the briefest glance at the top of his head, I know this is him – the man I could have killed. As he’s wheeled past me I see that his head is half-wrapped in a bandage and he has stitches in his chin. His left arm is in a sling and that’s just the parts of him I can see. Guilt washes over me. I did this. I’m an absolute menace on a bike.

The porter heads for the lift and I stand, my legs stiff from sitting for so long, and follow them. I’m sure the man won’t recognise me, but I keep my head down and my eyes averted just in case. I’m not really sure what I’m hoping to achieve by following him – I just really need to make sure he’s okay.

We travel up to level five where we all pile out, and I follow them towards the ward. If he’s not going to Intensive Care, this is a good sign, right? He’s wheeled through the double doors and disappears, and I stop, unsure what to do next. Surely I can’t just walk in and march up to his bed?

I hover uncertainly for a moment, then decide to risk it. I wait for someone to leave, then grab the door before it closes and slip inside. The area round the nursing station is still busy, even at this time of night. A nurse approaches me and my heart sinks.

‘Hi, can I help?’ she says. Her eyes are ringed with grey and I wonder how long she’s been on duty.

‘I’ve just come to see… my friend.’ My face flushes and I’m sure she can see right through me.

‘What’s their name please?’

‘He’s… he’s just come in. Just now.’

She frowns at me, then shakes her head. ‘Sorry, visiting hours are from eight until midday, and then five until eight. You’ll have to come back in the morning.’

‘But—’

‘Sorry, madam.’ She turns away and I’m left with no choice but to slink back out through the doors into the corridor. I glance at my phone. It’s just after 10p.m. I should really go home and try to get some sleep. Even better, I should probably try to forget about this entire thing and just leave the poor man to it. He’s in good hands now, I’m certain he’ll be fine.

But the guilt is gnawing away at me, and I need confirmation that he’s going to be all right before I can put it out of my mind and move on. What if he takes a turn for the worse or is taken to another ward during the night and I can’t find him tomorrow? I have no idea what his name is, so I can hardly go and ask where he is.

There’s no choice. I’ll have to stay put until the morning.

I glance round. Chairs are lined up along one wall to the right. They’re hard plastic and look really uncomfortable – but if I move away from this door, I could miss him if he does get moved.

I settle down and pull out my phone. The battery is only at twenty-five per cent.

There’s nothing from Matt and I swallow down my disappointment.

I switch my phone off, and try to get some rest.

* * *

After what was probably the most uncomfortable, sleep-deprived night of my life, morning finally arrives and with it, the sounds of the hospital re-awakening. Footsteps squeal along the corridor, trolleys rumble, people mumble, punctuated by the occasional shout. It takes me a moment to remember why I’m here, and when I do I’m suddenly wide awake and bolt upright.

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s 7.35a.m. I can go inside the ward soon and see if I can find him. I hope he wasn’t moved in the night and I missed it. But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I just need to stick to the plan.

My neck is stiff down one side where I must have dozed off in a strange position, and my back is killing me. I stand and stretch, then head along the corridor in search of a loo and a coffee machine. I’m back a couple of minutes after eight, with a cup of coffee that tastes even worse than Sophie’s burnt tar, hovering outside the ward. I wait for someone to leave, then slip through the doors and stride towards the nurse’s station again. The nurse from last night isn’t there any more – in fact I’m relieved to see there’s currently nobody on duty at all so at least I don’t have to try and explain why I don’t know the name of the man I’m supposedly visiting. Before someone returns I hurry past and head along the corridor. Each ward is sectioned off into rooms containing six beds, which means I’m going to have to walk into each one and pretend to have made a mistake until I find the right one. My acting skills aren’t up to much but I’m not sure how else to do this, so I take a deep breath and enter the first room.

Five of the beds in here have people in them. One of the occupants, an older lady with wispy white hair, has a man around the same age as her sitting beside her bed clutching her hand. They’re whispering to each other and both glance up and smile as I enter. I smile back, then quickly check out the other beds. There’s no one who looks like the man from the accident in here.

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