Chapter 2

Daphne left for work at eight the following morning, Ron having asked her to be ready to leave at half past one. She made sure she had her mobile with her. Maggie was shocked at the news and totally sympathetic.

"You go and visit him every afternoon," she said firmly, "although if you can get back here for a couple of hours afterwards that'd be a real help."

Daphne was bowled over by her kindness.

At nine o'clock Ron answered the phone.

"Mr Woolstencroft?"

"Yes."

"Peter Renfrew. I operated on your son yesterday evening. I'm sorry not to have rung you earlier but we didn't finish in the theatre until gone midnight."

"Blimey! He must have been in a state."

"He was, Mr Woolstencroft. Both his legs were damaged, the right one extensively ... It appears that the leading corner of the box hit him smack on the knee destRoning the joint and causing multiple fractures to the tibia and fibula. The fractures we have fixed with pins and plates but we had to replace his entire knee joint. His left leg is merely, by comparison, badly bruised.

"Shit!" breathed Ron.

"I'm afraid that's not the end of it. Fortunately his feet were extended and the box landed on his heels. A number of bones in his feet were cracked and ligaments torn. We've stabilised the damage there."

"W-will he w-walk again?"

"Oh Lord yes! Not for several months though I'm afraid."

"Poor lad. One thing he really enjoys is country walks."

"He won't be doing much of that for a while, I'm afraid, but he could always be taken out in a wheelchair. The fresh air and a change of scenery would be good for him."

"Hmm!" Ron did not foresee little Daphne doing much of that and they both had to work. "How long will you be keeping him in for?"

"It depends on how he heals and how his therapy goes but at least three weeks."

"Poor lad! He's not going to enjoy that. He's not much of a people person."

"We'll let him out as soon as we safely can I assure you, Mr Woolstencroft. Among other things we'll need the bed space."

"Sure. Well thank you ever so much for ringing, Mr Renfrew. If you see him this morning please tell him we'll be in this afternoon."

"I will indeed. Goodbye, Mr Woolstencroft."

"Shit!" muttered Ron to himself. "Poor lad. He's going to hate being in hospital with all those people and without his music. It's going to be a bugger when he gets home too. He won't mind being on his own but he'll need help with washing and going to the toilet and he'll also need a midday meal. I wonder if the health visitor can help.

"Oh well! We'll cross that bridge nearer the time."

He picked Daphne up as arranged and told her what Mr Renfrew had said before they moved off. As he had anticipated that brought floods of tears but at least he could put a comforting arm round her. She had to go back into the shop to wash her face. That took time because everyone wanted to hear the news.

"Bloody ghouls!" thought Ron. "They don't even know Reg. Still it'll mean something to Daphne."

Reg was half sitting up in bed with a tent over his legs. A tube ran under it at the bottom and there was a second tube from a stand beside the head of the bed running to his right arm. He was pale and drawn and both parents stood there silently for a moment as they took it in.

"Hi, Mum! Hi, Dad!" It was little more than a whisper.

Still without a word, Daphne bent forward, her eyes brimming, and kissed his forehead.

"Oh, my poor Reggie," she said softly.

Ron took his hand and squeezed it. "Bad luck, son."

There was silence again.

"Can you remember what happened?" Ron asked at length.

"Yeah, Wayne was stacking on the other side and pushed one of the boxes on my side off the top shelf. I saw it coming and managed to push Miss Eleanor out of the way but it caught me."

"Who's Miss Eleanor? asked Ron.

"Boss's daughter."

"Well done, lad!" Then he grinned. "That should get you some brownie points."

"Ron!" exclaimed Daphne disapprovingly.

Reg smiled at his father. "If they take me back."

"Why shouldn't they?"

"I may be crippled."

"No, son. Your surgeon said you'd be fine although it may take some months."

"That's the problem, Dad. They may take somebody else on."

"They still can't sack you for an accident that wasn't your fault."

Reg shrugged.

"I'll have a word with Cliff Edwards, our union rep," went on Ron.

"Don't stir anything up."

"I won't. He'll just be able to tell me what the rules are."

"'Kay."

"Where did the flowers come from?" asked Daphne eying two large bunches in separate vases.

"One's from Mr and Mrs Davies and the others from Miss Eleanor."

"That's very good of them. They must be nice people."

"They are," replied Reg. "Everyone at work likes them."

They stayed for another twenty fairly silent minutes. Even the normally chatty Daphne was subdued by what she saw as a tragedy. As it was a nurse came over and asked them to leave so that Reg did not become overtired.

"See you tomorrow, Reggie dear," said Daphne as she kissed him goodbye.

"I'll get in when I can," Ron promised.

Reg nodded his thanks. He was asleep two minutes later.

The Woolstencrofts were silent until they got back to Daphne's shop.

"He's going to get awfully bored," said Daphne.

"Yes."

"It's no good taking him a book."

"You'll have to teach him to knit."

"Sometimes, Ron Woolstencroft, you need smacking."

"It'd give him something to do."

Daphne snorted and got out of the car.

"You wait, my girl," Ron thought with a half smile as he drove away.

Even though he was still on painkillers, Reg felt considerably better the next morning after a good night's sleep. He ate his breakfast gratefully even though he was not impressed by the watery and tasteless scrambled egg. He wondered how they managed to get water in it in the first place. He could not believe that they might dilute the eggs.