Chapter 3

I returned, respectfully following behind the doctor, this time carrying suture kits, syringes and more bandages. I quickly laid everything out on the nightstand for the doctor, then grabbed one of the chairs and sat down on the opposite side of the bed, facing James.
"I'll tell you what he is going to do, that way you'll be prepared. He's filling the syringe with a local anaesthetic, he might have to inject it three or four places. It might sting a bit and then you'll go all numb."
"All right," he said, looking thoroughly unhappy.
"This has just been an entire day of unpleasantness for you, huh?"
"It hasn't been a good one so far, no."
"He's going to poke you with a needle now. Brace!" I said calmly, and he screwed up his face in preparation. "He's done now," I said as the doctor put the syringe down, and James opened his eyes and relaxed a little. "So, how's the head? Apart from it being sown shut, I mean."
"Seems a bit better. Nausea is better too, cold water helps."
"And vision?"
"Better. There is only one of you now."
"Good." He looked at me, gaze seeming steadier. "Let me know if you can feel anything when he starts sowing. You shouldn't be able to. Just hold still."
"I must admit, I didn't really expect getting a hijab-wearing, Norwegian, english-speaking nurse when coming to an A&E in Syria..." He began after a moment silence.
"Well, I didn't expect to get a long-haired, British television-presenter as a patient when I am working in a Syrian A&E either, so I should think we'd be square on that one."
"I see your point."
"What were you guys doing out in the desert, anyway? And what were you driving?" Come on, I'm dying of curiosity here.
"Jez had a Mazda, Richard a Fiat Barchetta, he was pulling Jez out of some... stone-strewn hole."
"And why were you in a stone-strewn hole and not say, on the road?"
"We were trying to... um, avoid the roads and not get noticed.. by people..." He looked at me sheepishly. I broke out laughing, and then immediately felt bad for doing so and rearranged my face in what I hoped was an empathetic grimace.
"I think I am safe in saying that you failed that. Miserably. What were you driving?"
"BMW Z3."
"Ooh, right. My first car was a BMW actually, 316i, rusted to pieces but its engine wouldn't die, even after three hundred thousand kilometres and a few crashes. Shame you've trashed it in the desert."
"I'm not. Its rubbish, broke down after two miles. And then again after about 11. And the automatic gearbox was absolutely horrid."
"So secretly you're happy to be here instead of in that cockmobile?"
"Almost." He sent me a wry smile, there was a glimmer in his eyes there that I hadn't seen before. What was that? Was that a microflirt? Oh get a grip, woman.
"Your mates apparently wanted to come by later, with Andy, see how you're doing?"
"Um.. yeah, sure," he said hesitantly.
"I told him it would have to be a short visit, and that they would have to behave. Being riled up by those three won't do you any good. And you've hit yourself pretty badly, you need some quiet. I know I'm sounding incredibly mumsy here, but it's my job."
"You do, a bit," he conceded, ghost of a smile lurking on his face again. "But thank you, all the same. Not sure I'd have the patience for much bollocking out of those two right now."
"Thought so. Andy left his number here, I'll ring him up when this is done."
The doctor laid down his needle and tongs, and asked me to come around and look at it. Five stitches all neat in a row. It