‘You do,’ said Darla, still averting her eyes.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Ros put out her hand to push herself up further and felt something wet and gloopy. She looked at her palm to see it was dripping with blood. ‘What on earth?’ She looked to Darla for an explanation but Darla was now hiding behind a cushion.
‘It’s coming from your head,’ said Darla. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t clear it up or I’ll be sick.’ She retched at the end of the sentence. Just the thought of it was apparently enough to unsettle her stomach.
Ros felt around her head with her clean hand until she found a wet patch. When she looked at her palm she was surprised to see that too was now covered in blood. ‘Goodness. I think you’re right. It’s strange because it doesn’t really hurt.’
‘How much longer until the ambulance gets here?’ called Darla.
‘Almost here,’ called back a police officer.
Darla told Ros that it was the nice officer who had checked that Darla was okay after she’d fainted and who had been quite keen to taser Cameron seeing as he was the only person standing whilst three other people were all strewn on the deck. Cameron had explained that it was him who had made the 999 call after receiving a text from Ros but the police officer hadn’t been keen to believe him. Thankfully Darla had quickly come round and backed up Cameron’s version of events.
Cameron crouched behind Ros so she could lean against him. ‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘I feel fine. But obviously . . .’ Ros waved her bloodstained hands and that was Darla’s cue to make a dash for the toilets below deck.
‘You had us worried there.’ Cameron passed her a clean tissue.
‘Sorry,’ she said, wiping her hands.
Cameron scanned her with worried eyes. ‘I thought that you . . . it really scared me. I’m still pretty scared,’ he added, glancing at the blood.
‘A little bit of blood goes a long way and the head is covered in blood vessels. What happened to Patrick?’
‘I tied him up with the mooring line. He’s got a worse headache than you. Well, he’s complaining more.’
‘You could have killed me!’ Patrick shouted from the other side of the boat where police were handcuffing him.
Ros smiled over her shoulder at Cameron. ‘You came to our rescue.’
‘Of course I did.’ The way he looked at her made her giddy or perhaps it was the head injury.
‘You’re lovely,’ she said and then instantly wished she hadn’t. ‘I think maybe I’ve got concussion,’ she added hastily in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. She was grateful for the sound of the siren that interrupted them.
Twenty minutes later the police were taking Patrick off to the station for a chat while Ros was having her head examined by a paramedic. ‘Now it’s stopped bleeding I could probably stitch it up here,’ said the paramedic. ‘But because you were unconscious we need to get you checked over at hospital anyway, so I’ll let them do it as I stitch like Dr Frankenstein.’ Only he laughed at his joke. ‘Tough crowd,’ he said with a shrug.
‘Unconscious? I was out for less than a minute. That hardly needs hospitalisation. I’d be grateful if you could stitch me up here, please,’ said Ros.
The paramedic winced and pointed upwards. ‘The powers that be say I need to take you in.’
‘You are not employed by God,’ said Ros. ‘And I’m fairly certain you cannot force me to go somewhere I don’t want to go, as I believe that would be kidnapping.’
‘Ros, come on. He’s trying to help,’ said Cameron.
‘And I really do appreciate his medical expertise, but with an overrun NHS I don’t want to add to their problems when I’m perfectly fine.’
‘I’d be happier if you went to hospital,’ said Cameron.
‘Me too,’ said Darla, who was now out of the toilet but still rather pale.
Ros looked at the paramedic. He made an exaggerated puffing noise. ‘I don’t want to add abduction to my CV but there’s loads of paperwork I have to fill in if you won’t go. Well, it’s one form but still, I could do without it.’
Ros felt defeated. ‘Fine, but I still think it’s unnecessary and I will be leaving as soon as possible.’
‘Fair enough,’ said the paramedic. ‘I’ll get the stretcher chair.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ said Ros. ‘Cameron, help me up please.’
‘Independent, isn’t she?’ said the paramedic.
‘Militantly so,’ said Cameron, putting his arm around Ros and helping her to her feet.
As Ros had expected, the wait at the hospital was tedious and long but the nurses were really nice, and once she was through the waiting a lovely doctor checked her over and to her satisfaction declared that she just needed to be stitched up and sent home with a checklist of things to look out for in case she showed any signs of concussion. Thankfully she wasn’t in any real pain with the exception of her bruised backside. They had given her painkillers for her head but she’d had worse headaches. Ros was sitting quietly and listening to the doctor and nurse chat whilst they stitched up her head, when she became aware of raised voices heading her way – unsettlingly familiar voices at that.
‘Hold on,’ said the doctor, as the curtain was pulled back to reveal her father and mother.
‘They’re my parents,’ said Ros by way of apology. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked them whilst also giving wide eyes at Cameron and Darla. Darla pointed at Cameron.
‘Cabbage! What happened?’ Barry looked shocked.
‘We know what happened. Cameron said she’d been pushed over by a con man.’ Amanda was scowling at Barry. ‘Is your memory affected?’
Barry ignored her and came to stand next to Ros and hold her hand. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m absolutely fine,’ said Ros.
‘Is she okay?’ Barry asked the doctor.
