Chapter 4

The next morning arrived, breakfast with it: fried egg. It was overcooked, cold and barely edible. The fat in the fried bread had congealed. After Daphne's cooking, Reg was appalled but he ate it, and the cold baked beans. "I've got to eat to live," he thought wryly.

The dreaded bedpan came next but he was getting used to it. Just! There was no bed bath.

After doctors' rounds an orderly appeared with a wheelchair and he was carefully and efficiently lifted into it. He was taken down to Physiotherapy and rather enjoyed the change of scenery and seeing other people bustling about doing their business although the sight of a girl on crutches taking exercise, accompanied by a nurse, saddened him. It never crossed his mind that he might soon find himself doing the same.

Anita greeted him warmly. She removed the outer dressing on his knee and very gently tested how much flex there was, registering his grimaces and gasps. Again watching him closely she palpated his left leg and then turned her attention to his ankles and feet. It was not pleasant but she never really hurt him, quickly registering his gasps or winces.

When she had finished she smiled at him, gently stroking his left calf. "You're going to be a model patient, I can see," she said. "You're prepared to take a bit of pain without throwing a wobbler. We're going to get you better in less time than usual. We'll start tomorrow."

Reg smiled back at her. "Thanks," was all he said but that was all she needed to hear. She had come to recognise her patients' strengths and weaknesses. This was a strong, gentle if uncommunicative man.

Reg was wheeled back to his bed and Yvonne brought him a cup of coffee.

"Don't tell," she said, "but this is some of ours, the nurses' coffee."

"Thanks. That's very kind of you."

Yvonne smiled. It was a curious mixture of pleasure, diffidence and conspiracy.

Reg could not help but smile back.

Yvonne looked round and then sat down in the visitor's chair. "If sister sees me sitting down I'll get all sorts of grief," she grinned.

"Don't get into trouble on my account."

Yvonne blushed slightly. "You're worth it," she whispered.

Reg looked at her in amazement.

"You're a hero."

"Balls! Oops! Sorry, Yvonne!"

She giggled. "You are. They never admit it."

Reg stared at her.

"You know. The blokes that get medals. They always say 'Oh, the guys expected it of me' or something."

Reg shrugged. This was becoming a bit difficult.

"Ooh, look out!" Yvonne leapt to her feet. "More comfortable now, Reg?" she asked loudly.

Reg controlled his laughter as Yvonne plonked the jigsaw on his lap and hurried away.

Five minutes later Sister wandered over. "Yvonne looking after you all right?" she asked. Her solemn face was belied by her twinkling eyes.

"Yes, thanks," replied Reg equally solemnly. "All the nurses are great, both shifts."

"Good. I just wanted to make sure that her friendliness wasn't too much for you. She's a lovely, extrovert girl but she can be a bit overpowering."

Reg knew exactly what she was getting at. He did his best but his eyes gave him away.

"No problem," he said.

Sister nodded solemnly and moved away.

Reg decided to carry on with the jigsaw puzzle and save Elijah for the afternoon after his mother had been in. It was not long before Yvonne was back.

"It's coming along well," she said.

Reg nodded. "The heather's not so easy," he said. "Lots the same colour."

Yvonne said nothing. She sensed he would be happier not talking but would become used to her being around. She was attracted to him and, realising that she had the best part of three weeks for him to get to know her she was not going to risk things by being too forward. She only stayed for a couple of minutes then touched his shoulder, smiled at him and moved away.

Lunch was predictably dull and cold and then it was Daphne. She rattled away happily and Reg responded as and when it was called for and then had two hours free to listen to Elijah. He really had no experience or knowledge of choral music other than the Hallelujah Chorus but he enjoyed Elijah, particularly the parts for full choir although he was very impressed by the bass singing Elijah himself and was enthralled by the tenor solo 'If with all your heart ye truly seek Him'. He could hardly wait to talk to Eleanor about it. He still had time to play the Weber yet again.

Eleanor came in on the dot of six o'clock. "Hi, Reg!" she said with a big smile and a peck on the forehead. "How goes it?"

"Not bad," he smiled happily back.

"I see you've had a go at the jigsaw. Golly! You'll have it finished tomorrow or the day after. I'm going to have to get you another one."

"Please don't bother. I can always do it again."

"And get bored with it. Anyway it's not a bother. Have you listened to Elijah?"

"You bet. It's great. I haven't heard much choral stuff but I really enjoyed it." He was off and Eleanor listened happily to him.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said when he wound down. "I think Willard White, the bass, is wonderful too. He acts the part. Did you notice?"

"Not really."

"Well, at the start, the prophecy about the drought, he's all solemn and commanding. Then with Ahab he's angry and commanding. You can hear the teasing and scorn in his voice when he's dealing with the prophets of Baal and then when he sings that bit about 'Oh that I might die' he sounds as though he's on his uppers. I think he's brilliant."

"Where does he come from? Is he English?"

"No. He's a Jamaican and trained at Juilliard music school in New York. He was a pupil of Maria Callas at one stage."

"Wow!" That was a name Reg knew. Then he laughed. "Some of the words! I suppose they have to use them to fit the music."

"What are you thinking of?"

"'Extirpate' as in 'extirpate the foe'. I'd never heard it before but I can guess what it means."

Eleanor laughed. "I know exactly what you mean. There's a lovely one in Haydn's Creation: 'flexible tiger'. I always think it sounds like a striped bendy bus."

Reg roared with laughter. "You're obviously keen on choral," he said when he calmed down.

She nodded. "I was in the choir and the choral society at school and then again in the choral society at uni."

Reg looked at her in awe. "Wow! You've done a lot then."

Eleanor nodded. "Quite a lot."

"Have you ever sung solos?"

"No. I was an understudy for Eve in Creation but it never happened."

"Bad luck."

Eleanor shook her head. "I'd have been petrified and my voice would probably have come out as a squeak."