Double Glazing
Chapter 11

Copyright© 2010 by Texrep

A cold wind blew through my heart.

"How is she? Is she hurt? Where have they taken her?" The policewoman, Constable Knight came over to me; she put her hand on my shoulder.

"She's been taken to the A. and E. at the General. She was conscious in the ambulance. We'll take you there now."

I went with them in the police car. The detective was driving, far too slowly for my temper. He took the opportunity to ask me some questions. Background stuff and where had I been all morning. I picked up on that question.

"Are you suggesting that this wasn't an accident?" There was a silence for a moment, it was either manoeuvring around a Bus, or because he wasn't quite sure what, and how much he could say. Policewoman Knight helped him out.

"The eyewitnesses thought that the car had deliberately mounted the pavement to hit Mrs. Birch."

"Let me guess, the car was a Jaguar." Whittaker looked at me in shock through the rear-view mirror.

"Why do you say that?" I explained the circumstances of Eve's divorce and our marriage.

"So you think that Mr. Chatsworth had a grudge against you." A grudge? I thought. More like an embittered hatred, but I said no more.

"Do you know where we could find Mr. Chatsworth?" I gave them the address of the 'Sycamores'. He used the Radio to advise his superior. When he used the words. "Possibly attempted Murder" It only reinforced the suspicion I had.

As we got nearer to the hospital the traffic became quite congested.

"Music and Lights?" Suggested Constable Knight. Whittaker agreed, and The policewomen lowered her window and reaching out, stuck the blue flashing light on the roof, at the same time the Detective switched on the two tones. Like that we cleared through the traffic without trouble, and pulled into the entrance to the hospital. PC Knight turned to me.

"I'll come in with you, otherwise you will be held up by all the 'jobsworths' seeking to justify their existence. I nodded. She was right, she strode through the reception area and ignoring the queue she went to the desk.

"Mrs. Evelyn Birch." She demanded abruptly. The receptionist typed the name into her computer.

"She's just gone up to ITU, I'll ri..." Too late. PC Knight took my arm and almost dragged me with her towards the lifts.

"Give them the chance and they will want to know your life history before they let you in." She muttered to me as the lift doors closed.

ITU was on the third floor, and following in her wake we walked briskly to the area. The nurse on desk duty looked up, the police uniform alerting her to the importance of our arrival. PC Knight again was not going to take any flak from anyone.

"Mrs. Evelyn Birch, what room is she in. This is her husband John Birch." The nurse regarded me with that trained sympathy of all nurses.

"Mrs. Birch is in twelve. She has just come back from MRI and X Ray. She will be going up to Theatre very shortly. I'll get the Doctor for you. She pressed a page button on the console and almost immediately a Doctor who had been walking away from us down the corridor, turned and came back to the desk.

"Doctor Emerson. This gentleman is Mr. Birch, Evelyn's husband."

"Oh good, you're here. I shall need you to sign a consent form for surgery."

"Can I see my wife, and can you tell what injuries she has suffered."

"She has compound fractures to legs, fractured Pelvis, and multiple bruises and contusions. We will need to pin her legs and Pelvis, and immobilise them to allow the Pelvis to heal, that's why I need your signature. I'll take you to her now. We have given her some powerful pain relief, so she may not be too lucid. Come this way." He walked away even as he was finishing the sentence. I followed.

Eve seemed so small in that bed, lying so still you could believe she was dead. Only the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the regular beeping of the monitors refuted that impression. Her face was lined with pain, although she appeared to be sleeping. The doctor approached the bed.

"Evelyn." He said softly. With no response he tried again but louder. "Evelyn, there is someone to see you." He still had no response. I bent down so my mouth was close to her ear.

"Eve, my darling. Can you hear me?" Her eyelids fluttered and a weak smile came to her lips. Her eyes opened.

"John! Oh my lovely man, you're here." I gently kissed her lips.

"Of course I am. How many times have I said, where you are, I am."

"I'm happy now, Joh..." Her voice faded as she returned to sleep, the small smile remaining on her face.

Doctor Emerson was shaking his head.

"I have seen it many times, but it still gives me a good feeling when our patient knows their loved one is with them. The reaction is always positive. Recovery is pretty well guaranteed now." He offered me the consent form. I read it and asked.

"What procedure are you doing?"

"We will pin her legs and her Pelvis so that they mend straight, and we will have to position them and restrain them in that position for a couple of weeks so that her Pelvis mends properly. Don't worry, they do this a lot, and once healed it will seem as if this had never happened." I signed the form.

"Thank you Mr. Birch. You are welcome to stay, but Evelyn." I interrupted him.

"She doesn't like Evelyn, she has always been Eve." He smiled and thanked me.

"I'll note that on her records. As I was saying you are welcome to stay, but Eve will be in Theatre for I would imagine something like four hours, and she will not be conscious for at least twelve hours after that."

"I'll stay."

Shortly after our conversation the guys in green scrubs and a nurse came with a Gurney, expertly transferred her from the bed, and took her up to Theatre. I had noticed a waiting room down the corridor, and headed for that. I was surprised to see WPC Knight sitting there.

"I would have thought that you had left by now."

"No Mr. Birch. DC Whittaker went off with the car, and I was told to stay here on the off chance that your wife would be able to give a statement."

"You'll be lucky. They have just taken her to Theatre. They reckon it will be something like sixteen hours before she regains consciousness." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh well, lots of overtime then." She grinned. "Not good for you, but quite handy for me. How is your wife?" I gave her the information that Dr. Emerson had given me. She nodded.

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