Clopwyck River - revised version

Chapter Five

The hospital sent me home with some creams and an appointment to go back for a check-up. They changed my bandages before I left, and I risked a peek at what my hands look like underneath, relieved to see that they're just very red, and not covered in scars. Instead of my hands being swaddled up like a couple of crab claws, my thumbs are free and my fingertips poke out of the tops of the bandages. I'd be able to use my phone now, if it was working. And if I had anyone to speak to.
​"Helloooooo?" Andrew ushers me through the front door of the house, holding my elbow like I'm his unsteady granny. "We're back! The patient's home!"
​Elliot's tell-tale clumsy footsteps bounce from the living room into the hallway, and he goes to throw himself against my legs, but looks at my bandaged covered hands and leans against Andrew.
​I smile at him, hoping that I don't look too terrifying, dressed up like a Halloween mummy.
​"Does hurt, Dem-dem?" he asks, taking a step closer and peering at my injuries.
​I kneel down to his level and hold both my hands up. "No, doesn't hurt a bit, Elliot. The hospital made me feel better. The bandages are just for extra protection."
​Elliot frowns, and looks up doubtfully at his Dad, concern welling up in his eyes.
​"I promise. Look, if you're really gentle you can even hold my hand and I promise it won't hurt me."
​He stares at my hands, then looks deep into my eyes, trying to figure out whether this is one of those times when an adult isn't being totally honest with him. He smiles, and nods.
"Okay. I be very, very gentle."
​I stand up and put my hand out to him, ignoring Andrew's grimace as Elliot gently places his chubby hand into my own.
​"See? I'm fine."
​Elliot's face brightens, and he leads me down the hallway. "We show Mummy."
​We're in the living room before I can protest, where Daria is fluffing up cushions on the sofa. She grabs some magazines and piles arranges them on the coffee table, then picks up a fluffy green blanket, shaking it out and folding it in half, putting it next to the cushions.
​"Mummy, look at Dem-dem's ouchy."
​Daria straightens up, smooths her hair down and comes over to us, not making eye contact with me. She ruffles Elliot's hair and he lets go of my hand, toddling over to the toy box in the corner of the room. I instantly miss the comfort of having my little supporter by my side, and wait for Daria to say something.
​Andrew speaks first.
"They said the bandages are just a precaution and she's absolutely fine apart from that." He raises a hand to the side of his mouth and adds in a theatrical whisper. "Apart from the hair. Don't mention the hair."
​I automatically put a hand up to my head, grimacing at the blunt, dry tufts of hair that hang down the side of my face. "Very funny, Andrew."
​"I'm just teasing. You look fine. Maybe you'll start some kind of trend?" He looks at Daria. "Did you manage to get Demi an appointment?"
​"I've booked her in for tomorrow at two at my hairdressers." She finally looks at me, taking a deep breath in the effort to address me directly. "Demi, you were supposed to be starting school tomorrow but I think you should stay here. You can watch TV, read some magazines, whatever you like, but you should take it easy."
​"I don't want to miss school."
​A flash of annoyance furrows Daria's eyebrows. "It's fine, I'll call tomorrow and explain what's happened."
​"Okay." I look at the sofa, weighing up its promising comfy cushions with the idea of being in the same room as Daria and Andrew. "I think I'd rather just go to bed for a bit, if that's okay?"
​She purses her lips and throws her hands in the air. "Fine. Whatever you want to do."
​I look at Andrew whose stretched smile tells me that my homecoming hasn't gone according to plan.
"Thanks though." I murmur.
​"Do you want a hand up to your room?"
​"No, Andrew, I'll be fine. Thanks for picking me up and everything."
​"No problem. Like I explained, sorry it was me instead of your sister. I probably don't have the best bedside manner."
​It's about one hundred times better than Daria's.
"No worries. I'm going to head up now. See you, Elliot."
​Elliot ignores me in favour of ramming a train and a Barbie into one another, and I leave the awkwardness hanging in the air between Daria and Andrew.
​I trudge up the stairs and hover on the top step, listening to Daria and Andrew's not-so-hushed voices.
​"What was she thinking? She's been here a day, one day, Andrew, and she almost got herself killed. I knew her coming here was a bad idea."
​"I thought we'd agreed this is the best thing for her, to be with family? It's not like she has anywhere else to go. I doubt she went out hoping she'd find someone setting themselves on fire, Daria. Besides, she's fine, and technically she's a hero. Who knows what would have happened to that boy if she hadn't have been there."
​"What was she doing with him though? That boy is nothing but trouble. His brother too. I don't want her anywhere near them."
​"Ben? And Leo? Are you serious? Their Dad is the parish priest, Daria. Come on, you're talking crazy. I know Ben has always been a bit of a tearaway but he's just pushing his Dad, rebelling against his image. But Leo's a lovely lad, he's never been in trouble in his life, and look what he did for Demi, if he hadn't of been there-"
​"I don't want to talk about it anymore! She is not spending any time with that Ben or that Leo, and that's it."
​Leo just became all the more attractive.
Daria stomps out of the living room before Andrew can say anything more. I hunch myself against the bannister as she walks past the bottom of the stairs, exhaling when she doesn't glance up at me eavesdropping.
​Deciding I better retreat to my room before anyone sees me, I try to pull myself up, but stumble backwards into a family photo covered wall. My eyes feel like they've turned themselves inside out and I feel such an intense dizziness that I swear my brain has liquefied and is sloshing around my skull. I slide down the wall, the stairs in front of me swirling, the carpet flashing from its beige colour to a migraine inducing slide of black and white stripes pouring down into the hallway where white squares shine and up at me, before they're replaced by the regular brown carpet.
​Groaning, I put my hand over my eyes, my fingers pushing on my eyelids in attempt to switch this feeling off.
​"Demi, what's- Jesus!" Andrew bounds up the stairs until he's kneeling in front of me. "Hey, are you ok? What happened?"
​"I- I just felt dizzy. Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me."
​"You've just witnessed a seriously traumatic event, and almost drowned, that's what's wrong with you. The doctor said you might get some dizzy spells. Do you think you can stand?"
​I nod, and Andrew turns his head to the bottom of the stairs where Elliot is staring up at us with wide eyes, Daria behind him with a hand on each of his shoulders.
​"She's okay. I'm going to help her into bed, unless...." He looks at Daria, then at me. "Would you rather Daria helped you?"
​"No, it's okay. I just want to lie down."
​Andrew crouches down and puts one hand under my armpit, the other gripping my arm and slowly lifts me up to a standing position.
​"Okay?"
​I nod, and he guides me to my bedroom and helps me onto the bed. The dizziness has passed but I feel totally wiped out, too tired to register the embarrassment of my brother-in-law putting me to bed.
​He covers me with a blanket, then closes the curtains and walks to the doorway.
​"Just get some rest. We'll check on you later. You'll feel normal in no time."
​Normal? It's been months since I felt anything close to normal.