Page 43 of The London Girls
She dismounted and took a breath, looking down at her knee and not liking what she saw. If she’d thought her shoulder hurt before, it was almost unbearable now, and just looking at her exposed flesh made her stomach turn.
‘It’s not so far,’ she said out loud, as if to convince herself. ‘Come on, you can do it, girl.’ Everything George had said suddenly made sense. All the times he’d insisted she do her own repairs, scolding her for not paying attention and insisting she listen.He was being hard on me because he didn’t ever want me to be in this position, because he wanted me to be capable, and I ignored him.
She pushed hard to get the motorcycle rolling, grunting with the effort until she got it moving, her eyes stoically trained forward as she focused on her destination.I’ve delivered my message. So long as I make it back in one piece, it doesn’t matter how long it takes.
After almost an hour of pushing and stopping, desperately catching her breath in a throat that felt like sandpaper, sheeventually limped back into the garage, her back slick with sweat beneath her thick jacket. Ava was fighting fatigue like she’d never known before, but she propped her motorcycle up with the stand, knowing she had to do everything in her power to get it running again before George saw it. He’d be furious with her, and she couldn’t lie to him; she’d have to admit that the error was hers alone. Perhaps this was all penance for how easily she’d dismissed his concerns about her overconfidence. Hadn’t he said that it would get her killed one day? The worst thing was that it hadn’t even been speed that had tipped her up.
Ava glanced down at her hands, wishing they’d stop shaking as she turned her gaze to her bike. Suddenly she didn’t even know where to start, her head feeling woolly as she held out a hand to prop herself up against the wall. The concrete was cool, and she shut her eyes for a moment, desperately needing a drink of water.
‘Ava?’ A loud voice echoed in the concrete garage. ‘Christ, I thought something had happened to you! You should have returned hours ago!’
She let her hand fall from the wall as she turned, and it was the worst thing she could have done. Her legs immediately gave way beneath her, the ground rushing up to meet her well before George could catch her.
‘Ava!’ She heard his call as her legs buckled, hands flying out to break her fall.
‘Sorry, I ...’ she mumbled, barely about to get her words out.
‘You’re bleeding. Your leg, what happened out there?’
George helped her up to a sitting position so she was leaning back against the wall, and he stayed on his haunches as he examined her knee. She wanted to tell him she was fine and pull away, but she simply didn’t have the strength.
‘This doesn’t look good.’
‘You should see the bike,’ she whispered.
His eyes moved from her knee to her face. ‘I’ll deal with the bike later. How badly does it hurt? Are you feeling dizzy?’
‘Not as bad as my shoulder hurts.’ She grimaced as she tried to move it, but when she glanced down at her knee, she could see why he was worried about it. The blood had dried in parts, but the main wound was still bleeding and her trousers were badly ripped. ‘And I’m feeling woozy, but not because I hit my head. I’m actually not great with blood.’ That was a gross understatement. She looked down again and wished she hadn’t, her stomach lurching at the sight.
‘What happened out there?’ he asked, as he stood and crossed the garage, going into the first-aid cupboard and pulling some things out.
‘Ahh, well—’ she started.
‘You’ll have to take your jacket off so I can look at your shoulder. I’ll do my best to treat you here, but if you’d rather go to the hospital—’
‘No,’ she said firmly, closing her eyes as the room began to spin. ‘No, I’ll be fine, I just, I think I need some water.’
She heard George drop what he was carrying as he swore, his heavy footfalls indicating that he was going to get the water for her. She tipped her head back, enjoying the cool of the concrete, wishing she could just lie all the way down ...Did I hit my head?She couldn’t remember, everything suddenly feeling like a blur.
‘Ava? Here, sit up.’
It wasn’t until George took hold of her arm and righted her that she realised she was all slumped over.
‘Drink,’ he ordered, holding a glass to her lips as she greedily gulped it down, not stopping until she’d drained it.
‘Thank you,’ she managed. ‘I feel better already.’ Ava went to stand, but George’s hand came down on her shoulder.
‘No. You just stay sitting there. I don’t need you fainting on me.’
She went to scoff at him, about to tell him that she’d never fainted in her life and she wasn’t about to start now, but the way the ceiling appeared to be moving told her that he might just be right. Perhaps her fear of blood had amplified now that she’d had to confront so much of her own.
George went to collect the first-aid supplies he’d dropped earlier, before coming back to her and lowering himself in front of her. He was gentle as he turned her leg from side to side, examining the wound before taking out gauze and some iodine in a small bottle, and she realised that despite his often gruff exterior, he certainly had a kind side.
‘This is going to hurt a little,’ he said, ‘but I want to make sure it’s clean.’
She nodded, bracing herself for the sting. It hurt, but she gritted her teeth and stayed silent until he was done, his face a picture of deep concentration as he eventually covered the wound with gauze and wrapped it.
‘Was there something on the road?’ he asked.
