Capturing Ella

Chapter 53 - Ella

I stripped off the stupid pyjamas I have been wearing in hospital in rotation with some other pairs and was tempted to throw them straight into the bin. Karla decided to stop off at Marks and Spencer's in duty free in order to buy me some clothes. She had received the phone call saying we were spotted leaving Summerleaze beach and it might be wise to head back over in case everything blows up – actual words from the admin team, bet they feel pretty shit now about it. And she did. Her and Saul packed their bags and were on the first flight over. She had landed a few hours after everything kicked off on the island and I was in theatre. So what did Karla do best? Buy awful looking clothes to deck me in whilst I had no obligation to scream my horror at them. I knew she was trying, but satin? Really?

But I didn't have much else to wear, so I made do with the satin burgundy old lady baggy pyjama bottoms until Will saved my actual life and brought me some trackies from Primark (after having more stern words to Joe about what he'd do if Joe hurts me) but they hurt to wear. My legs were still really burnt and the grafts were just settling in without rejection and were tender and the cuffed hem bottoms rubbed against one of the graft marks, causing irritation. So for the journey home in the car, then to Maui and back again I had to wear the satin odd things Karla had brought me.

But I had never seen Mum so excited before. Like it was something else. She greeted Joe with such a welcoming smile before hugging him – a middle aged woman a tiny bit taller than me hugging Joe as Joe panicked was hilarious. She then demanded everything from Joe. All about his childhood, brother and sisters, nieces and nephews, uncles, aunts, how we met and everything. Karla sat for about four hours as Joe explained his whole life story (I fell asleep in this time, too, not that Karla noticed,) and she invited us both over to stay for a few weeks the second I was allowed on a plane.

I pressed the button in the shower to turn on the water, adjusting the temperature before looking at my legs, pulling a face of disgust. The marks of each burn and graft were still prominent – but I had only had it done less than a week ago. Xav tried to heal them but focused on my head and other main injures and said he would visit in the next day or two to attempt to tackle my legs. But my legs were swollen and red and looked horrific. I then looked at my stomach, where only the slightest of bumps had appeared. Currently, a pancake would have more rises to it but I noticed it was there and so did Joe. The smallest of bumps, only visible when I didn't have a shirt on. Jeez, I need to stop daydreaming and have a shower. It's been god knows how long since my last shower.

About fifteen minutes later, I jumped out and tied my hair into the towel like I normally do at home after patting myself dry, wincing as I touched my legs. I looked at the fresh laundry pile – just visible from where I opened the door and grabbed the first shirt that was there. It was one Joe had got when he was down in Cornwall, but doubled also as my pyjama shirt. The design was meant to be long on men so it came down just past my bum – ideal. Joe's parents weren't meant to be home any time soon and the doctors had told me to "air" the grafts. This seemed like the best thing I could do at the moment.

I crept down the stairs and could hear the very rapid typing of Joe on his laptop. From the sound of the noise, it seemed like he was in the kitchen. Not to make him jump I walked down the stairs, turning the corner and ran into the kitchen. Joe looked up quickly, closing the screen on his laptop before getting up and putting the kettle on the boil again.

'How was your shower?' He asked, looking at my bare legs. Rather than wincing, like I did, he just raised an eyebrow.

'I've never been so thankful to have a shower ever, but what were you doing?'

'Just some paperwork,' He lied, avoiding eye contact.

'Liar.'

'I was doing paperwork.'