A Soldier's tale

Chapter 3

I go to the physio department as usual the next day – they’ve given me free rein to do pretty much what I want as long as I’m careful. I had a surprise when I woke up this morning and found a new wheelchair by my bed – a titanium one with the lightest weight possible and in paint that matches my old military green. The tag on it says that SSAFA and my battalion paid for it. The new chair feels great its seat moulded to my lower body is so much more comfortable than the NHS ‘tank’ I’ve been in. After all these months learning to live again I am almost out of here – my time in the unit is almost over.

I return to the ward after a punishing 2 hours in the physio’s gym to see Teresa sitting by Matt’s bed which is still empty.

She looks up at me as she hears my wheels squeak on the floor – as I get closer I notice she doesn’t look as happy as she did yesterday.

“Hey Teresa, - you had a tough day huh?”

“Hi Richard, yes, just a bit.” She seems very down – I know that look well – I’ve seen it in my own eyes and in the eyes of many others too.

“Would you like to go outside for a while?”

She smiles slowly, “Thank you Richard– I would - if you’re not tired that is?”

We slowly go down to the atrium and I wheel myself outside and take a deep breath - the air is so fresh after yesterday’s storm, I look at Teresa as she sits on the bench – she seems so unlike herself today.

“So; have things been hectic today?” I smile at her.

She starts to open her mouth; then my smile fails as I see her face crumple and she starts to cry – I wheel myself closer to her and take her hand.

“I’m so sorry Richard - it’s been very hard today”, wiping the tears from her face with her hand she sniffs loudly – “you see Matt died from complications this morning, I’d really hoped he’d make it.”

“Oh Hell – lost the boy, damn he was just a kid.” I shake my head; sad for the loss of another young life even though I didn’t know him except as a figure lying in another bed near me.

She continues to cry; without thinking I hold my arms out to her and as she leans forwards I pull her upper body into my arms she is so slim, with my strong upper body it’s easy to hold her.

She buries her face into my T-shirt and cries whilst I hold her to me – as I do so it dawns on me -she doesn’t mind that my legs are missing and that the wheelchair I’m sitting in is now a permanent part of my life. She still just sees me as strong capable man to hold her.

I hold her close to me, my strong arms around her while she cries, until she slows down and she sits up with a hiccupping sob.

“Oh Richard, I’m sorry.”

I reluctantly release her from my arms.

“Don’t worry – I know it’s hard to lose somebody.”

Whipping off my no longer clean T-shirt -that is now soaked with her tears - I wipe her face with it so it’s got mascara as well on it, she glances at my hand - “Oh God; I owe you a T-shirt Richard.”

“Hey it’s ok, – I’ve got plenty.”

I take my T-shirt from her “would you like to go back in now?”

“Thank you Richard, I needed a shoulder to cry on and you were there just when I needed someone.” She leans over and kisses my cheek.

“You’re welcome Lass.” I have to resist the temptation to pull her to me and kiss her.

I take my brakes off and wheel myself slowly back through the glass portion of the atrium.

I reach for Teresa’s hand and squeeze it gently– “will you still be able to come and see me?”

“I will still continue working here – but as I am not directly involved in your care I can’t say when I will be able to see you” – she squeezes my hand back “but I will certainly try.”

When I return to the ward bare chested - with a tear-soaked mascara covered T-shirt on my lap– the nurses must wonder what I’ve been up to.