Page 66 of A Fresh Start at Bramble Cottage
“Everyone’s got them these days, even the little kids,” Brenda remarked. “People can even pay for their shopping direct with them. I’m going to have to get a new terminal so people can use them.”
Arthur seemed to be coming round a little more, his eyes flickering open and trying to speak. He seemed to recognise Vicky, smiling up at her as she spoke soothingly to him, holding his hand.
“I’ve emailed your son, Arthur — he’ll be getting back in touch soon, and I’ll tell him what’s happened. And the ambulance will be here in a minute.”
I hope.
It was more than half an hour before the ambulance arrived — Vicky had never been more relieved than when she saw the flash of the blue light as it came round the bend in the road.
It pulled into the kerb, and the paramedic climbed out. She put her bag down and knelt beside the old man. “Okay, what have we got? Had a nasty fall, have we?”
“About half an hour ago,” Vicky explained. “He seemed fine a moment before, in the shop — just a bit slow. But when I came out he’d fallen.”
“Did he lose consciousness?”
“I don’t think so — at least only for a few moments. His pulse was a bit weak.”
“That’s to be expected.” She was bending over him, shining her penlight into his eyes. “Arthur? Can you hear me? Can you tell me if you have any pain?”
“Arm.” It was little more than a weak groan.
“Ah, yes.” The paramedic nodded briskly. “The one underneath him probably took the brunt of the fall. Okay, Arthur, we’re going to pop you onto a stretcher and take you off to the hospital. Is that all right with you?”
He managed a nod.
“Can I go with him?” Vicky asked.
“Of course.”
The other paramedic had brought the stretcher. With infinite care they eased him onto it and lifted it onto a folding trolley.
“All right, Arthur?” They carefully laid his injured arm over his body and wrapped a blanket around him, then fastened the stretcher’s strap to keep him safely in place. “Off we go.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vicky was surprised — and pleased — to find Arthur already sitting up in a high-backed chair beside his bed when she visited on Saturday afternoon. It was a four-bed ward — the other three patients were gentlemen of a similar age to him, and clearly there was a lot of banter between them.
He looked around with a wide smile as Vicky walked in. “Ho there! Here’s my girlfriend.”
One of the others chortled loudly. “You should be so lucky.”
“Don’t go wasting your time with that one, girly. He’s ticking.”
Arthur chuckled. “No good. She’s devoted to me, aren’t you, my luvver?”
“Of course.”
“What have you got there?” he demanded as she placed a paper bag on the table beside him.
“Grapes.”
“Lovely!” He reached greedily for the bag with his good hand — the other was strapped with bandage and held in a sling. “You lot, keep your thieving fingers off them.” He glared at his comrades. “They’re all mine.”
“Hah! Share and share alike.”
He gestured towards a spare chair. “Well, drag that one over here and sit down, my luvver, and tell me what you’ve been up to.”
“Not much. How are you feeling today?”
