First Time

67

Aiden

I wake up to the sound of hoarse coughing. Immediately I can feel the dull pain in my neck and back. Man, that hurts. Hospital sofas are absolutely shit for sleeping on. And it's impossible to get a good night's rest between the shitty sofa, Mel's coughing and seizing fits, doctors and nurses in and out of the room all night and Lizzie dancing in her sleep. I move Lizzie's head carefully off my lap and lay it on the space where I was sitting.

I walk over to Melissa who is spluttering. I look at the beeping machine above her head where her heart rate is slightly increasing.

"Mel? What's the matter? Are you ok?"

She doesn't wake but is slightly shaking as she continues to hack it up. I contemplate pressing the emergency button but after a minute more of the coughing fit, she settles back down and drifts into the unknown again.

I watch with sadness at all the wires and tubes coming out of her. I remember the doctors telling me last night that she had lost a lot of blood and that an emergency blood transfusion was what saved her. Though she is alive and is showing positive signs of recovering, she is not out of the danger zone yet, dipping in and out of consciousness.

It sucks feeling so helpless. There is nothing I can say or do to make this better or to ensure she makes it through this. And even if she does, there is no guarantee she will be the same Mel. One thing is sure, she will be more emotionally fucked up than before.

I throw myself onto the chair by her bedside and close my eyes. I don't know how to feel right now. I am shit scared that I'm going to lose Mel but raging with her at the same time. I am mad at myself for not having been there. For some reason, I feel a slight resentment for Emily arranging the whole trip. If she hadn't, I would have been home to prevent this. I am mad at my parents for being so shit and abandoning us like this. I'm fucking worried about what will happen to us now. How the hell am I going to get us out of this?

Just as I decide to try and catch some shut eye, a knock on the door brings me back. The door opens and Claire walks back in the room.

"Hello, is it ok to come in?" she whispers halfway through the door, "Your social worker is here too."

I brace myself for Greg's stupid face. At least he won't be grinning this time.

To my surprise however, a skinny, old hag comes in instead. She's tall and bony with a long pointy nose, razor sharp, hollowed cheekbones and a long neck. Her grey hair is short and cropped to her ear over some large, round glasses. She is what I imagine Mrs Trunchbull would look like after being starved for three months.

"That's not my social worker," I say, confused as fuck.

"Actually, my name is Ann and yes, I am your new social worker," she replies sternly, shutting the door behind her with a loud slam.

"Ann Hagarty, pleased to meet you," she offers me her hand.

"This must be some kind of mistake. Greg is our social worker," I bark, ignoring her gesture.

"Unfortunately, you will no longer be communicating with Mr Patterson. This case has been reassigned to me."

"What? Why? Who makes those decisions and why did no one ask me first?"

A noise somewhere between a scoff and a gag comes out of her beak.

"That's not the way it works I'm afraid. Mr Patterson has been suspended pending an investigation by Social Services regarding his lack of due diligence and neglected duty of care. In other words, if he had done his bloody job, a child wouldn't be on the edge of life right now," she says with an oddly satisfied smirk.