Chapter 15: Fully Responsible

A voice cut through the fog in my head. Calm and gentle, yet firm and authoritative. “Paul? Can you hear me? My name’s Gerald. Can you hear me, Paul?”

Someone gently shook my shoulder. “Can you hear me, lad? Can you open your eyes for me?”

I peeled my eyes open, and they started to water from the bright, harsh bathroom lights that assaulted them. I blinked several times. There was a dull throb at the base of my skull and behind my forehead, along with a metallic tang in my mouth.

My eyes were still watering and blurry, but I forced myself to take a breath. A savage stabbing pain erupted in my chest, concentrated on the spot where Stevens had kicked me, just above my ribs. My jaw throbbed where the knee that had knocked me to the floor had connected. That metallic taste had to be blood.

The world gradually came into focus, and a grey-haired gentleman in the black uniform of St John’s Ambulance filled my field of view, his brow furrowed and his eyes brimming with concern. He leaned back, glanced to his left and said, “He should be okay, we just need to make sure he’s comfortable, and then get him to the hospital for an X-ray to confirm there’s no serious damage. Given what’s just happened, we have to treat it as a suspected rib fracture. But we need to make sure there are no internal injuries.”

The man he was speaking to responded with, “Thank you. I’ll take him myself. Do you need me to sign anything?”

The ambulance man stood and said, “No, it’s fine. I’ll take care of the paperwork now. I’ll need to just run a few tests on the lad, then I’ll give you a copy of the Patient Report Form to take to the hospital with you. I’ll get him some paracetamol, too. He’ll need it. Do you know if he’s allergic?”

“Sorry, I don’t, you’ll have to ask him.”

“I’d do that anyway. Protocol. Ten minutes at most, then you can take him to Westmouth General. Okay?”

He moved away, and the other man crouched down to my level, looked me in the eye, and said, “How do you feel, Paul?”

I blinked several times, but my eyes still weren’t working properly. “Wi ... I mean, Mr Brown? What are you doing here?”

He smiled. “Paul, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Will?”

“Sorry, er, Will. I know you keep telling me that, but it still doesn’t feel right.” Will Brown was the lawyer who had handled matters when my parents were killed. He’d arranged for Vicky to become my legal guardian—the only option we had to avoid my being taken into care since neither Mum nor Dad had any brothers or sisters—and he’d kept tabs on me ever since. Well, on both of us, really.

“Yeah, well. It makes me feel old, so stop it.” His smile widened into a grin. I offered a weak smile in response.

“But what are you doing here? At The Ball, I mean?” He was dressed as a vampire, like me, only his costume was far better than mine.

“I attend every year. I have several clients in the town, as well as other professionals I work with. This is a great chance to network.” His smile broadened. “It’s one of the year’s highlights, actually. And I suspect this year will be remembered for a long time to come. How do you feel?”

I tried to sit up and groaned as the pain shot through me once more. “Like someone just kicked me in the ribs.”

“Always the smart-alec. Alright, let’s get these tests over with, and then get you to the hospital to see what the damage is.”

I looked around the room as he helped me to my feet. “Wait, where’s Clarissa?”

“They took care of her first since it was a head injury. Plus, you told them to. She’s already been taken to the hospital.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But we’re going to the same place, so we’ll find out when we get there.”

The St John’s Ambulance man led me out of the bathroom and into the school reception, where Will’s girlfriend and daughter were waiting, both in costume and looking worried. He sat me in a chair, then took my pulse, checked my blood pressure, and assessed my pupil response. Will stood next to my seat and was joined by his girlfriend.

“Amy, I have to take him to the hospital. Are you and Sophie okay to get a taxi home?”

“Of course, William. Don’t worry about us, just take care of...” She looked at me. “Paul, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Hold on. Where’s Vicky?”

“At work,” Will said. “I’ve already called her, and she’ll meet us at the hospital.”

“Oh, okay.”

Will’s daughter came to stand beside him. She smiled at me, “Hi, Paul. How are you?” Her cheeks flushed, and she covered her mouth. “I’m, like, so sorry, that was such a stupid question. You just got beat up or something, didn’t you? Like, how could you be? Sorry. Oh my God! I’m, like, so embarrassed.”

I smiled at her. Sophie was a cute kid. Talked a bit too much, but I liked her. She used to live with her mum in London, but had moved in with Will over the summer. “I’m all right. My ribs hurt, but apart from that, I’m fine. At least I’ve still got all my teeth.” I looked at Will. “I do still have all my teeth, right?” I winked at Sophie, and she giggled.

Will let out a sigh. “Kids! Yes, you’ve still got all your teeth. And your ribs are probably broken – or at least cracked. That’s why we need to get them X-rayed. Come on, let’s go.”

The nearest hospital was Westmouth General. It was Saturday night, so the Accident and Emergency department was crowded with drunks who had fallen awkwardly or, like me, had been in fights. Will explained what had happened to the receptionist.

“I have a form here from The St. John’s Ambulance requesting an X-ray.”

The receptionist nodded and tapped in some details to her computer.

“Take a seat, please. Someone will see you shortly.”

“How long is ‘shortly?’” Will asked.

The receptionist shrugged. “Our target time is within an hour, but it is Saturday night, so it could be as long as two.”

We found some seats and settled in to wait. The man opposite me held a bandage to his forehead and had streaks of blood covering one side of his face. I tried not to look—my stomach felt queasy enough.

“Can we find Clarissa?” I asked. “I need to know she’s okay.”

“Wait here. I’ll find out where she is.” He went back to the desk and returned after speaking to a nurse.

“She’s in a room down that corridor,” he said, gesturing beyond the desk. “The nurse wasn’t sure if we were allowed to see her. She’s finding out.”

I nodded.

“The police will need to speak to you, Paul.”