Even After All

Part Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine

Dylan’s heart was in his mouth as his taxi raced across town. He’d missed her call as he was coming through immigration and when he called back...a policewoman, that’s who’d answered Matilda’s phone, and that scared him beyond belief. All he knew was there was “an incident” and now she was in hospital, ironically a hospital as far away from him as possible. Suddenly his jetlag was a thing of the past, his worry; his fear for Matilda superseded anything else. He had no idea what he was walking into, he had no clue what had happened. For a fleeting moment he worried what would happen if that chancer Andy was there. He of the cheap flowers. He’d not pushed her to find out the nature of their relationship, but for a moment that didn’t matter. As the cab got closer to the hospital he noted the irony that he’d not known where she was for most of the last six years, but today he was more worried about Matilda than he had ever been about anyone else in his life.

Matilda.

He shook his head, so bloody stubborn, always thinking she knew best...and always thinking that he was the bad man. Damn her.

The taxi stopped and he flung a wad of notes at the driver then ran into the casualty unit.

                “I’m looking for Matilda Davies; she was brought in about an hour ago.”

The grey faced receptionist tapped at his computer for a moment, “you family?”

He nodded, crossing his fingers behind his back, “she’s my wife.”

The boy nodded, “end of the corridor, fourth door on your right, she’s being patched up.”

A nurse blocked his route as he approached his destination.

                “I’m looking for Matilda Davies.”

The nurse glanced at the chart in her hand, then nodded, “are you...”

                “Her husband.”

Giving a nod she smiled, “she’s in room six, over there.”

He thanked her then made for the room.

Pushing the door open he groaned. Matilda was sat on a bed, a man in scrubs was cleaning a wound to her head, and she glanced up as the door opened.

                “Shit Matilda...” he rushed across the room as she closed her eyes and bit her lip. She was fighting tears, he could tell. With her eyes closed she was trying to block him out, but he wasn’t having that. He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

                “What are you doing here? How did you know?”

He sighed, watching the man in front of him, the witness to this conversation as he stated to apply iodine to the wound at her hairline. The right side of her face was grotesquely bruised, her cheek and jaw swollen. “You called me when I was coming through customs, so I couldn’t answer, then when I called back, the police answered. You have NO idea how terrifying that was. What happened?”

She sighed, “that’s how they knew my name! You told them. I did wonder.” She swallowed and he could see it was painful for her, so he reached for the glass of water that sat on a table beside her then waited as she sipped at it. “It was a nice day so I decided to walk home. I saw you’d phoned, so I called you back. You didn’t answer...” she was thinking desperately trying to recall. “Then there was a tug at my bag...” She looked up at him, “there was a boy, he had a scarf over his face. I pulled my bag away from him, but there was another one...another boy. He hit me, but I was holding the bag...”