Fallout (part 2) by cornishcat
Doyle’s first thought when he became aware of his surroundings again was that his back was broken. The crushing sensation over his hips was horrendous and he couldn’t feel his legs. Panic started to build and he gasped in agony as he tried to move, causing him to inhale more foul, gritty air.
He pressed his face back into Bodie’s hair to stifle a cough.
“Calm down, Ray,” he could imagine hearing his friend say. “That's the main thing, staying cool. Slow heartbeat, slow metabolism. Gotta be cool.” Another quote from Bodie’s ‘Little Book of Wisdom’, he thought wryly.
It felt reassuring to feel the sturdy body beside him, to be so close and to hold him. They might die today but at least they’d be together. The only tolerable way.
Feeling a bit more composed, more in control, he began to assess their situation as best he could.
They were both alive. Trapped maybe, but still alive. That was a start.
He couldn’t see a bloody thing in the pitch black so he cautiously felt around. The area above, just below the steps, seemed clear enough and there were a couple of inches between Bodie and the supporting wall. Most of the debris seemed to be behind, and on, himself. So, if he could just burrow Bodie a little further under then perhaps he could move himself away from the rubble.
“Come on, mate. I could do with a little help here, you know?”
Slowly but steadily he pushed Bodie flush against the wall until there was just enough room for him to move himself further under the protective canopy formed by the stairs. Almost instantly the pressure was released off his lower back and the pain gradually became more bearable, although he almost cried out when the sensation started returning to his legs.
He listened for sounds of rescue but could hear nothing but the rumbling and cracking of the warehouse settling back down.
“Hello!” he shouted. “Is anybody there?” No-one responded.
Murph knew where they were, he told himself, so he would come and find them but, without knowing how much structural damage had been caused above, Doyle realised that they might be stuck here for hours, days even. In fact, since he’d lost consciousness, he didn’t actually know how much time had already passed since the explosion.
God, how much longer could Bodie survive without that desperately needed medical attention? He had seen some obvious wounds and knew that Bodie had lost a lot of blood because the evidence had been unmistakeable but now he could smell it as well. He slipped his hand between their bodies and felt the warm, sticky, wetness there - so, still bleeding then. Having no other option in their current situation, he simply pulled him closer, hoping the pressure might stem the flow.
But now he was afraid that time was in short supply and he knew he couldn’t risk waiting any longer.
“Listen mate. Fuck, I know you’re probably not even able to hear me right now but I want to tell you how very sorry I am. Sorry I reacted like I did when you told me, er, how you felt. I was shocked. Bloody hell, was I shocked but to be honest, you caught me out. I had no idea you felt that way about me and I was shit scared, you know; scared of what that love would make me, what that would make us. Well, I can tell you, it frightened me to death, Bodie and I didn’t know what to say. But you, you bastard, didn’t give me any time to think, to take it all in. I just needed a moment but you just got up and left. God Bodie, staying and talking to me wouldn’t have killed you, you know. But that’s just typical, isn’t it? Going off on your own, to lick your wounds and build a few more of your impenetrable walls.” Doyle stopped, feeling breathless and suddenly realised that the oxygen levels might be depleting. Something else he hadn’t considered; that they might suffocate to death.
“After that,” he pushed on regardless, “you didn’t mention it again and it n-never seemed the right time for me to bring it up either. You just seemed to go off me so I assumed it was only a p-passing fancy of yours. Love ‘em and leave ‘em, that’s your normal style, isn’t it Bodie, so why would I be any different?” He tried taking a deeper breath and coughed. “Until, that is… things started getting more serious between you… and Ali. C-could see she made you h-happy so it was way too late… for me t’speak up. I couldn’t s-s-tand to see you… together ’cause I could h-have ‘ad it all with you… but, have to tell you… I love…”
Suddenly a voice reached out to them through the dark, “Doyle! Can you hear me, Ray?”
“Murph… here.” Doyle coughed painfully. “L’sen Bodie… found us… g’ting’ out… Don’t, you b-bastard… stuff to tell you if… willing t’listen,” he promised bravely between gasps.
A chink of light, from Murphy’s torch, bounced through the small gap that had suddenly appeared, illuminating their little cavern, followed behind by some much needed fresher air.
*****
Doyle gently stretched his battered body on the hard examination couch, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position. The doctor had finally stopped all his poking and prodding and left him alone with his thoughts.
Recalling the events of the previous hours, he desperately wanted to believe it had just been a nightmare; the assault on the warehouse, the realisation that the bomb couldn’t be defused and that Bodie was, in all likelihood, still somewhere deep inside the building. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a dream - it had been very real, too real. His frantic search was mostly a blur but he couldn’t shake off the vivid image, when he’d eventually found his best mate, simply discarded like a piece of unwanted junk.
And when they’d been trapped, he’d imagined Bodie’s life draining away beside him. He’d had no time to look for serious injuries so he didn’t know whether a deep wound or a catastrophic head injury was slowly finishing him off. He’d felt so bloody useless.
Their rescue, when it miraculously came, was accomplished efficiently and, despite insisting he wanted to wait for Bodie to be brought out, he found himself bundled away to a place of safety.
Kate Ross had accompanied them both in the ambulance, constantly attending to Bodie throughout their journey; starting an IV, padding his injuries and putting pressure on those that continued to bleed. Between her and the ambulanceman, Doyle hadn’t been able to see much from where he lay, just occasional glimpses of a bloody arm or an exposed knee. They wouldn’t give him any answers to his hundreds of questions either, telling him to leave his oxygen mask in place, that they were doing all they could for Bodie and they’d be at the hospital soon.
And here he was, still not being told a goddamn thing!
“Ah, Mr Doyle.” The House Office came in again and drew the curtain around the bed, marginally improving his sense of privacy as he lay there, half undressed. “We’ve had a look at your x-rays and they seem clear but we’ll wait for the Radiographer’s report, just to be certain. Staff Nurse will be in shortly to clean and dress your wounds and I’ve prescribed you some pain relief, along with an anti-inflammatory, so you should feel more comfortable soon. Do you have any questions?”
“Is there any news of my - er - colleague, who was brought in with me? William Bodie.”
“No, I’m sorry. He was initially treated here in casualty but I believe he was taken up to theatre a while back. Do you have any questions about your own condition?”
“When can I leave?”
“We’ll know more once we have the report back and the Consultant has had time to look over your records. You have lacerations, abrasions and severe bruising over the whole of your lower back but the pain you’ve described suggests muscular and soft tissue damage rather than any spinal injury. I think you can probably count yourself very lucky.”
“Could you find out what’s happened to Bodie for me?”
“I’ll do my best sir but, as you can imagine, we’re pretty busy at the moment… Mr Doyle,” the doctor protested. “I strongly advise you to lie still until we can give you the all-clear. Mr Doyle, please…?”
“4.5! Where do you think you’re going?” Cowley demanded, pushing his way through the curtain and placing a firm hand on Doyle’s chest to prevent him sitting up any further.
“Have you heard how Bodie is? They’re not telling me anything.” Doyle glared at the doctor before carefully lying back down again, already regretting the sudden movement.
“Try and be patient, lad. There’s nothing any of us can do until he’s out of surgery. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything. In the meantime, allow the doctor here to do his job. You’ll be no good to Bodie if you neglect your own injuries.”
“Mr Doyle, as this gentleman rightly suggests, you’d be wise to remain here so we can make sure you haven’t sustained any serious damage. Please inform us immediately if you experience any increasing pain in your legs or chest or any numbness or tingling around your buttocks, anus or genitals. Have you passed urine since the accident?”
Doyle gave him a contemptuous look that had the desired effect.
“Yes, well… just let me know if you have any problems when you do try.” With that, the doctor picked up his charts and hurried off.
“I know you are worried lad but Bodie’s as tough as they come. He’ll not give up without a fight.”
“Did you manage to see him, sir? I only got a brief look once they cleared the rubble, before they pulled me out.”
“No, I didn’t see much. Dr Ross offered some initial first aid before the ambulancemen rushed him away. She’ll be in later, I expect. Perhaps she can answer some of your questions.”
Cowley pulled up a black plastic chair and sat himself down by the side of the bed. Removing his glasses, he rubbed at his forehead and tiredly instructed, “Begin at the beginning, 4.5. I need to know how Tomlinson managed to escape the cordon we placed around the warehouse.”
“Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow, sir? Or you could ask Murphy, he was there as well, you know?”
“No, I need your report now, 4.5. Best get it done with, whilst it’s still fresh. Besides you’ve nothing better to do other than rest and then, think about it, you’ll be free to concentrate on getting Bodie back on his feet.” Cowley surprised himself with his gentleness, considering the day he’d just had.
The doctor suddenly reappeared. “Mr Doyle. I’ve spoken to the other team and they confirm that Mr Bodie is still in theatre. I’ve asked them to keep us updated but, in the meantime, the consultant wants me to admit you overnight for observation. You will be transferred up to the ward as soon as a bed becomes available.”
Cowley briefly looked at the patient and, realising that no civilised response was likely to be offered, he thanked the doctor himself.
*****
Doyle limped on to ward 4, anticipating another lengthy period of just sitting quietly by Bodie’s bed. He was still not quite used to the relative stillness he found there, after the constant bleeps and hisses thrown out by all the equipment that they’d had Bodie hooked up to when he was in the intensive care unit.
But as he pushed open the door of the small side room, he found Ali already at the bedside.
He was grateful their paths hadn’t crossed sooner because he knew she was a regular visitor but he hadn’t actually seen her for months now; not since their last double date.
“Hello love. It’s good to see you again.” He leant down and kissed her cheek. He noticed she’d tied her blonde hair back in a loose pony-tail revealing her beautiful, make-up free face. So, this was the look that normally greeted Bodie when he had woken up in her bed, he thought to himself. And what had she seen when she’d turned to face him lying beside her, looking all drowsy and unguarded?
She glanced up briefly, tightening her hold on Bodie’s right hand. “Hello, Ray. How are you getting on?”
“I’m fine thanks. The doc’s given me the all-clear and I can start some physio tomorrow.” Bringing a second chair a little closer to the bed, he sat himself down before reaching over to lightly squeeze Bodie’s ankle. “Hey mate, and how are you today? Any chance of you waking up some time soon ‘cause Christmas is just around the corner and I’ve got pressies to buy? We can’t all be lolling around in bed, skiving, you know.”
Like every other morning, he waited hopefully for a reaction that never came.
“I had a quick word with the old battle-axe as I was coming in and she seemed to think there’s been some improvement; your temperature’s coming down so the new antibiotics must be working at last, eh?”
“Really?” Ali lifted her head. “He’s been lying here for ten days now and I can’t see any difference. He’s still not responding to anything.”
“He’s not really likely to, love,” Doyle reluctantly admitted. “Not until they start weaning him off some of the drugs they’ve been pumping into him. Haven’t they told you any of this?”
But she didn’t seem to be listening. She was looking intently at Bodie’s face, brushing her hand over his forehead, searching for anything that might convince her he was telling the truth.
They sat there in silence for a while, afraid to say anything, wanting to be alone with their thoughts.
“What have we done?” she eventually asked.
Yeah, Doyle had been asking himself that very same question, over and over. “I know what I’ve done, and I’ll tell you about it one day, I promise, but not right now, eh? Not here.”
She clutched at Bodie’s limp hand and, without looking up, she started to recall the moment her world had fallen apart. “He looked so bloody gorgeous in the church, you know…” she paused momentarily. “But also, a little apprehensive… the way he fiddles with his watch when he’s a bit nervous. You must have seen him do it?” She absently toyed with the hospital identity band that now encircled his wrist, mirroring his actions.
But Doyle hadn’t and he was resentful that Ali knew things about his partner that he didn’t.
“It’s hard to imagine him ever being vulnerable but that’s exactly what I thought when I saw him standing there alone, waiting for me, and then I realised - you weren’t there with him! I looked for you but no …”
She stopped speaking again and Doyle would have said something, if he’d only known what, but after a moment she lifted her eyes and faced him for the first time.
“There was never any doubt who he’d ask to be his best man; you were his best mate, after all. And you fulfilled your obligations very well, right up until that morning. I’ve known you almost as long as I’ve known Bodie, so your absence immediately confirmed… at that moment I understood… the threat you posed to us.” She was furious, all signs of tenderness and fear vanishing with the building of her anger.
But she hadn’t finished. “I truly believe that Bodie loves me but I’ve never underestimated his devotion to you as well, Ray. It took him a long time to accept that you could never feel the same way and he was moving on. But, if I hadn’t fully realised before, I certainly did in the church; you were jealous and you couldn’t bear to watch us get married! I’m right, aren’t I?”
She glared at him harshly for a few moments and then seemed to deflate, slumping back in the chair in resignation, resting her head on Bodie’s forearm.
Doyle sat there, momentarily stunned by her insight and then, in an effort to distance himself from these painful accusations, he got up and limped over to the window. Looking out, he was surprised to see that life still continued unabated on the streets below; people hurrying to and from their various destinations, happily chatting, oblivious to the drama that inhabited his current world. He’d almost forgotten what his previous ‘normal’ life felt like, when he and Bodie were close.
They both jumped when the door opened and a nurse came in to replace the empty drip bag with a full one. She checked the patient’s blood pressure and left again after recording her work on the chart.
“I’ve let him down more than just on his wedding day.” Doyle admitted.
“What!”
“I shied away from his friendship, I abandoned him on his stag night, I even hit him when it looked like he was coming between me and Ann. You are right, Ali; I am jealous and I can tell you now, it bloody terrifies me.”
She stared at him for a few moments before giving a slight nod of the head and Doyle thought he could see a little compassion in her eyes. Yeah, Bodie had done well, netting her.
*****
A few days later, he and Ali were together in the hospital room; she had popped in as usual during her lunchbreak and was just finishing off a yoghurt. He was toying with an infuriating puzzle he’d found in the car’s glove box.
They had formed a bit of a mutual support system; Doyle tried to organise his own medical appointments around her visits, knowing Bodie wouldn’t be left alone for too long. She was able to concentrate on her busy workload, confident that Ray would be there for him, but always visited again on her way home. It was a routine of sorts that they had settled into.
Neither of them now took much notice of the medical personnel who frequently came in to administer drugs and I.V. fluids, check vital signs, redress wounds or empty the catheter bag. Two student nurses were currently changing Bodie’s position so that, on this occasion, he would be lying more on his left side. Unfortunately, this was made more awkward because his injured arm was elevated in a makeshift sling which was basically a folded hospital sheet suspended from the hooks of a drip stand. As they started to move him, Bodie groaned and his right hand shot out to grasp at the bedding.
Doyle was instantly out of his chair and at the bedside. “Bodie? Bodie mate, are you back with us?” He took hold of the hand that was trying to anchor himself to the bed. “Hang about, we’re just getting you more comfortable.”
The nurses quickly settled him back in his original position and one went off to get some help.
“Sweetheart,” Ali whispered. “Are you hurting love? Can we help you?”
Bodie groaned again and then, to everyone’s surprise, opened his eyes to look around. His unfocussed gaze briefly stopped at Doyle before his lids fell shut again.
The student nurse returned with a doctor and asked them to leave whilst he performed an examination.
“We’ll just keep out of the way, over here, if you don’t mind,” Doyle said, gently pulling Ali over to the window where they could observe most of the proceedings.
Disappointingly, Bodie remained stubbornly unresponsive to any of the prompts or tests and the doctor eventually left, offering encouragement that he expected him to show more signs of regaining consciousness over the coming days.
Once the nurses had completed the task they’d originally started and the doors had finally closed behind them, Ray and Ali pulled their seats up close to either side of the bed and started cajoling and teasing, hoping to reach Bodie, wherever he’d retreated to. Between them, they were confident they could keep this up for as long as was necessary - and they did.
Eventually, Bodie rolled his head on the pillow and grimaced. “… shu’… rup’!” A little slurred but certainly undeniable.
“Make us,” Doyle demanded. “Come on Bodie, if you want some peace, you’ll just have to look us in the eye and tell us… Bodie! Are you listening?”
“P…soff!”
Well, that’s a start, Doyle thought with utter relief.
*****
Becoming aware that there was a conversation going on nearby, Bodie opened his eyes again to find the small side-room filled to bursting with uninvited guests.
“Oh, I’m glad to see that you’re awake at last, Mr Brodie.”
The Ward Sister coughed discreetly. “It’s William Bodie, Mr Fairfax. Bodie, without an R.”
“Quite so, Sister. Quite so. You had us worried for a while back there, Mr Bodie,” the consultant continued unapologetically, brushing a fleck of lint off his pinstriped jacket sleeve. “Until we managed to get that troublesome infection of yours under control, that is. Luckily your body was in excellent shape before your little er, accident. We expect your recovery to come along in leaps and bounds now that the peritonitis is responding to our treatments.”
Bodie felt highly indignant when he then, without so much as a by your leave, lifted off the bed clothes to examine the dressings on his abdomen.
“How is the laparotomy wound, Sister?” he asked, turning to face her.
“Oh, greatly improved, Mr Fairfax. As you requested, the drain was removed yesterday. We’re packing the last two open areas with gauze soaked in Eusol every day and I’m pleased to report they are now closing up nicely.”
“That’s good, that’s good. Now Dr Blake, why haven’t the blood tests I ordered been organised yet? Come on girl, jump to it, you’ll not make the grade if you cannot follow simple instructions.”
“I’ll chase them up straightaway, sir,” a quiet voice replied from within the group before the door opened and closed silently.
“I think it’s time to start the patient on a bland diet, Sister. Begin with some clear soup and unsweetened black tea at lunchtime and if he can hold that down then he can have some dry toast this evening. Has he had his bowels opened recently? We’ll be wanting another stool sample…”
Bodie turned away and attempted to block out the humiliating conversation that continued relentlessly around him. He must have briefly dropped off again because the next time he looked he was surprised to find the room was empty again except for a young student nurse who was gently straightening his bedding.
“They’ve gone then, the pompous twat and his little entourage?” he quietly asked of her.
The nurse giggled as she continued to perfect her hospital corners. “Mr Fairfax is a very well-respected surgeon, I’ll have you know.”
“But lacking any bedside…” he started to say before the door swung open again and another group of junior doctors marched in unannounced, led by a balding man wearing horn-rimmed glasses.
“Give me strength.” Bodie groaned audibly and closed his eyes… but not quickly enough, it seemed.
“Ah, Mr Bodie. Good to find you fully awake at long last. I’m the orthopaedic surgeon who’s been pinning you back together. Taylor’s the name.” The intruder held out his hand then changed his mind and tapped Bodie on his good shoulder instead.
“Are we managing to control your pain better now? Had a devil of a job in the beginning - you were fighting us all the way - but we eventually found the right combination to shut you up.”
Bodie turned, about to give the doctor a piece of his mind, when he saw the grin on the rosy-cheeked face and relented.
“I’m fine. I suppose it’s you I should thank for all this?” he asked, indicating his arm suspended in the large sling.
“Yep, that’s my bit of handiwork. You have a fracture of the humerus that, unfortunately, sustained further damage by the delay in its immobilization, so I had to insert a plate to stabilise it. I’ve been a bit concerned about some persistent swelling in your hand and wrist though, hence the gallows-like contraption. May I?” He exposed Bodie’s left arm and expressed his satisfaction when he finished examining the well-healed wound.
“Can you feel me touching you?” the doctor asked as he brushed each finger with his own.
“Yeah, they’re fine. Did feel numb when I woke up earlier but I’ve been flexing them a bit.”
“That’s excellent news, Mr Bodie. I anticipate we’ll be able to replace this sling with a collar-and-cuff when everything’s settled down and Mr Fairfax has agreed that you can come off bedrest. Do you have any questions for me?”
“How much recovery do you think I can expect?” Bodie shocked himself because he hadn’t really considered the possibility that he might have sustained a permanent injury. Where had his brain been?
“Your ribs will start to feel more comfortable over the coming weeks, although I expect you already knew that, having looked back through your previous medical records. We’ll organise a course of physiotherapy once your shoulder and arm have healed, to ensure you get the optimal range of movement back. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“If it’s the truth.”
“It is, I can assure you. I’m not expecting any further major set-backs now you’ve regained consciousness but I do hope you will inform us immediately if your pain gets any worse. You will tell us, won’t you, Mr Bodie?” he asked, perhaps a little too optimistically.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’ll be ordering some repeat x-rays tomorrow and I’ll be back to discuss the reports with you the following morning. In the meantime, ask one of the nurses if you need to see me before then. OK?”
“OK, doc. Thanks.” He gave up the struggle to keep his eyes open and was out for the count again before the surgeon had even returned the charts to the foot of the bed.
*****
Doyle had been sitting watching Bodie doze for the last half hour, wondering how they were ever going to resolve their difficulties when they couldn’t even hold a civilised conversation. “We have to talk,” he eventually blurted impatiently. Not the subtlest opening gambit but it was better than not tackling the current awkwardness that lay between them.
Bodie opened his bruised eyes and looked coldly at his ex-partner. “Why? You’ve made it quite clear you don’t want to be associated with a poofter and Ali doesn’t want second-best. It’s obvious to me how you both feel. Now fuck off!”
“Come on, mate, be reasonable. It’s not like that, and you know it.”
“Do I?”
“Bodie!” But he’d already closed himself off and turned away. Doyle recognised that a hospital really wasn’t the best place to have this type of discussion but he’d try again another day - he had to - when Bodie was feeling stronger and less trapped.
As he was leaving, he met his boss in the corridor coming in.
“It’s good to see that you’re moving more easily now, 4.5. I presume the physio is helping.”
“I’m doing alright, thank you sir and I’ll be ready for a round with Macklin, soon enough.”
“That’s good. And how is Master Bodie today?”
“Stubborn, pig-headed, obstinate…”
“So, getting back to normal, then?”
Doyle muttered something unintelligible before he hobbled off towards the car park.
*****
Cowley stood and watched the patient through the open ward door. At least some of the surgical paraphernalia had been removed now although Bodie’s left arm was still suspended awkwardly above the bed and an IV was attached to his right hand. All this was a vast improvement on his condition when they’d first brought him in, though. He’d been unrecognisable then.
“Bodie?” Cowley asked quietly as he stepped into the room. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I wasn’t certain if you were asleep or not.”
“I’m awake. It’s difficult getting any sleep in this place.”
“I must say, you’re looking much better. How are you feeling now, laddie?”
“I’m doing alright, thanks.”
Cowley noted how both his agents had offered almost identical replies to his question. Both refusing to admit to any weakness, standing strong together, even when they weren’t.
“Do you feel well enough to fill in a few gaps in my report then?”
Bodie nodded, a little apprehensively. He had enough gaps of his own to fill, interspersed with some vague dreams he didn’t dare consider might be real.
“Was it Tomlinson himself, or one of his lackeys, who rumbled you?”
“No, it was 6.2 who he rumbled but as Murph had already bailed out, he decided to ask me the questions instead. Guilty by association, you see.”
“Ah, it was unfortunate that his witness statement was required at that particular time although why the barrister hadn’t tried to delay the case for a couple more days when I told him… Oh well, we can’t always foresee every turn of events. I’m sorry you were hurt, lad.”
“I’ve experienced worse.”
“Aye Bodie, I believe you have,” Cowley nodded, “but it doesn’t make it any easier. Did Tomlinson say anything about his future plans?”
“Not in front of me. Once he thought Murph had informed the cops he simply moved the operation forward.”
“Ne’er mind. I’m sure he’ll raise his head again soon enough and hopefully you’ll be back on your feet by the time we’re ready to bring him in.”
A long silence followed before Bodie spoke again. “I’ve decided to quit the squad, sir.”
Cowley took off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose before responding. “That doesn’t really come as a complete shock, considering what you’ve been through but give yourself time to recover and then we’ll talk again. If you would prefer to come in off the streets for a while, or even move into training, then I’m sure there’s a position you will find fulfilling. Just don’t make any rash decisions whilst you’re laid up.”
“I’m leaving. I’ve had enough. Do I need to put my resignation in writing because I can ask one of the nurses…?”
“No, I’ll accept it, if that’s what you really want.” Cowley frowned. “But I do wish you’d wait. Have you discussed this with your partner?”
“Murphy? Nah, he prefers to work solo, anyway.”
“I meant Doyle. What does he have to say?” Cowley knew Bodie was being perverse but couldn’t pull him up on it; not here, not now.
“He hasn’t wanted me as his partner for a long time. Expect he’ll be glad to see the back of me.”
“You’re wrong lad, so very wrong.”
“The doc says I could be out of here in a week or two and I still have some holiday owing, so….” At which point, Bodie suddenly realised the implications of what he was suggesting; that this was effectively the end of CI5 for him. He swallowed before he could continue, a hard lump in his throat threatening to embarrass him. “It has been good working for you, sir and I, er, I appreciate your belief in me. There’s not many people I can say that to.”
“Aye laddie, you’re right, I do believe in you. You’re a decent man with a good, strong sense of loyalty. I’ll personally be sorry to see you go and we’ll miss your particular skills and experience in the squad but it is your decision ultimately. However, I do have a proposition, if you’ll hear me out.”
Bodie was sceptical that anything would induce him into staying but he nodded anyway.
“I’ll accept your resignation on the day you are pronounced fit to work, and I’ll wave the notice period if necessary, if you’ll just use the intervening time to consider all your options. If you’re still of a mind to leave then I’ll not argue any further. I’m basically giving you the opportunity to stay on the payroll whilst you recover your health.”
“That’s a generous offer, sir.”
“I don’t want to lose you, son. Replacements are very expensive. So, do you accept?”
“I’d be a fool not to,” Bodie acknowledged
“That’s true. Then get some rest and I’ll be back tomorrow to finish that damn report.”
Cowley left the room and Bodie closed his eyes, tightly.
There was really nothing more to consider. He had no choice, he still had to leave but at least he now had some time to plan his future.
*****
Ali stood at the foot of the bed, watching the patient sleep, his bare chest still colourfully decorated with healing wounds and fading bruises. She couldn’t imagine how many more lay hidden beneath the sheet.
He must have sensed her presence because he opened his eyes and, after a moment, smiled. “Hello love.”
“Hello darling.” She moved round to the side of the bed and accepted the hand he held out to her. He’d always made her feel cherished, protected.
“It’s good to see you. How’s things going?” Bodie asked, genuinely interested.
“Fine thanks. I’ve been offered a promotion; department head, would you believe? Start next week.”
“That’s great; you deserve it. I hope they’re offering you a good pay deal. Tell me if they’re not and I’ll go around and make them er, consider all their options.” He released her hand and raised his clenched fist with a small shake.
They both laughed at the absurdity, considering his current condition.
“I must say, you’re looking a lot better this morning,” she observed with approval as she pulled the chair closer.
“Oh, I am and should be out of here in a few days.”
“Really?” She was shocked because no-one had suggested that he was anywhere near fit enough for discharge.
“Yeah. I’m ready for a bit of rest and recuperation, then it’ll be back to business as usual.” He winked at her suggestively.
“Bodie?” she said, taking a deep breath. “Mr Cowley tells me you want to resign. Is that really true?”
He looked away, furious that he was, yet again, the topic of another little discussion. Yeah, he really had to get away from these people who thought they could arrange his life for him.
“Sweetheart? Talk to me,” she prompted when he failed to respond.
“I’m getting out while I still can. It’s a crap job and I’ve done my bit. Time for someone else to risk getting their head blown off,” he quietly replied, annoyed with himself because he should have been ready for this. Bloody drugs, clouding his brain! The sooner he came off them the better.
“What are you planning to do?”
“Not sure yet. The world’s my lobster, and all that.” He tried to control his annoyance and not rush into committing himself to anything just yet. She didn’t deserve lies.
“But you’ll be staying in London, right?” Ali persisted.
Shut up, will you? She was probing for answers he was ashamed he hadn’t prepared yet.
“Probably not. No point really…nothing to keep me here now.” Yeah, he thought to himself, that was basically true.
“But what about your friends?”
Finally, he turned to face her, all trace of his smile long gone, falling back on the old adage - the one he’d worked hard to leave behind when he quit the mercs - that attack is the best form of defence. “Friends? What friends? No, ’s time for a fresh start. Been here too long as it is.”
“What about me and Ray? Doesn’t our friendship count for anything?” She was starting to whine and that was so unlike Ali.
He gave some consideration to his answer but it was still wounding when it came. “Not enough, apparently.”
She stood up to leave, the chair toppling backwards in her haste.
He knew he’d crossed the line now so he twisted his knife in a little deeper, just for the hell of it. “Hey, you and Doyle should go out for a drink together sometime. You have a lot in common.”
“You bastard!” She spat before turning away, hurt beyond reason.
“Goodbye, Ali,” he said remorsefully once the door had banged closed behind her.
part 3: https://discoveredinalj.livejournal.com/372724.html