Made it, I thought as I pulled into the car park of the local secondary school, and with 15 minutes to spare! It had been a frantic Saturday morning, the first day after the end of school, and I'd delivered my 13 year old daughter Jodie to her dance class early on, then rushed back home to finish packing her case for Guide camp which started the next day. She and another friend were to be delivered to a third girl's house to sleep over in preparation for an early start the next day. The girls were all highly excited by it all and I doubted there'd be much sleep that night, or indeed for the next week.
Normally I'd sit and wait for her in the car, parents not being encouraged to come into the school, but it was the last class of the year and the rules tended to be relaxed a bit, might even get to see her dance a bit, I thought. I locked the car and wandered into the sports block, seeing the faces of several of the other Mums and Dads, who were all looking a little anxiously at me.
Instantly I was worried, petrified that something had happened to her, she was all I had left after that scourge of humanity, cancer, had taken my wife and Jodie's mother away from us four years earlier. Since then I had been ultra-protective of her, torn between trying to allow her to live a normal life and petrified of anything happening to her. As I approached, one of the teachers came out of the studio door. "Thank God you're here Steve," she started.
"What's happened? Where's Jodie? Is she OK?" Questions tumbled out of my mouth as I frantically looked around, my heart in my mouth.
"Jodie's fine, look you can see her through the glass," she dragged me to the door and there she was, dancing gracefully with all the other girls and relief flooded through me.
"What's the problem then?" I asked.
"It's Beth Cartwright, you know Beth don't you?" Of course I did, I told her, Beth had been my wife's closest friend, they'd met on the maternity ward giving birth to our daughters and had been like sisters ever since, our daughters having a similar very close relationship. Beth had been an absolute Godsend since my wife had died, helping out with childcare while I retrained as a teacher so I could be there for my daughter and generally being a surrogate mother for Jodie. She'd willingly relieved me of the need to have those difficult chats with her, birds and bees, periods, and had taken her for her first bra fitting, things that Dads, no matter how close to their young daughters, could just not do.
I could see Susannah in the class with Jodie and it was clearly nothing to do with her, so what was the problem? "She was in the adult dance class," continued the teacher "and she took a bit of a tumble and has hurt herself rather badly. She's clearly broken one wrist and it looks as though the other one may be broken as well."
"Where is she?" I asked, "Has she gone to hospital? Do you want me to take care of Susannah?"
"No, she's still here, we phoned for an ambulance but they said that for a low level injury such as that it would be an eight hour wait. We wondered if you could take her to Accident and Emergency, none of the other parents can, and we were getting desperate until you turned up. Beth would be happy with that, and Mary here," she indicated another woman who waved, "can take the two girls for their sleepover."
My mind was racing, trying to work out all the permutations and combinations and finally I saw that it would work. If I couldn't say goodbye to Jodie now I'd have to get up early to go and see the girls off in the morning, assuming I wasn't still stuck in A&E, but it was possible. Fortunately her class finished at that moment and she came barrelling out, rushing to greet me with a huge hug and a kiss. We explained the situation to her and to her credit her first thoughts were for Beth, "Of course you must take her to hospital Dad," she'd stopped calling me Daddy earlier that year, something that I still missed, "you're all she's got now that Graham isn't there." Beth's husband had left her a year or so ago for another woman.
All settled, we quickly transferred Jodie and Susannah's cases to Mary's car and it was with a lump in my throat that I hugged and kissed her goodbye. "Right, where's Beth?"
She was in a side room and I was shocked when I saw her grey face, sitting nursing both arms delicately in her lap. She was dressed in a lilac coloured dance leotard over purple tights and had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. I'd not seen her in her dance clothes before and despite the situation could not but admire her figure, some nice looking breasts, and a trim waist tapering down to some long legs.
She looked up at me with relief writ large on her face. "Steve, thank heavens you're here." I moved to her side, careful not to touch her.
"Does it hurt much?"
"It hurts like fu.... Billy-o," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Can we get going before I pass out?" We guided her carefully to my car and set her inside, managing to get the seatbelt round her without too many swear words and I drove cautiously away, trying to avoid the potholes. Fortunately the hospital wasn't far away and I parked the car right outside A&E, helping her out and walking slowly through the doors to reception.
To the credit of the hospital she was triaged quickly and although not a case of imminent death, it didn't seem that it would be long before she was attended to. I went and parked the car, returning to find her still sitting in reception, a nurse beside her taking details. I sat beside her and we waited for the best part of an hour, me trying to make simple conversation although most of my questions were met with grunts, interspersed with the odd groan.
When she was called through I was invited to accompany her, her look implored me to go with her so I did. We sat outside x-ray for half an hour, before she went in, emerging after a while to inform me that she had broken one wrist and badly sprained the other, along with a couple of fingers. She didn't seem to be in quite so much pain and upon enquiry, told me that she'd been given a couple of pills that were taking the edge off.
Fracture clinic was next, and it was another hour before she emerged, one wrist in a cast up to her elbow, the other wrapped in bandages, with her fingers taped together. She sat down beside me, "They're coming out in a minute to discharge me, for God's sake, pretend you're my partner and can look after me or they won't bloody release me."
Before I had the chance to speak to her a nurse appeared with a clip board and addressed me. "Right Mr. err..... Smith, I understand you're Beth's partner?" I nodded, conscious of Beth glaring at me, daring me to deny it, "And you are in a position to look after her?" I nodded again, explaining that I was a teacher and was now on holiday. "She's had a nasty fall and is not allowed to do anything with those hands for at least a week. We've given her some strong painkillers, but she'll still be in some pain. Are you sure you're OK with this?" I nodded again and was handed a form to sign, something I did without actually reading it.
As we stood up to go, the nurse leaned over to me and whispered, "The painkillers might make her a bit high, so you'll need to make some allowances." We thanked her and set off back to the car. She got in with less difficulty than before, and I strapped her in, setting off for her house.
"What was all that about me being your partner?" I asked.
"They won't release you unless they can put a care package in place, or there is a responsible adult at home. There's no chance of a care package for at least a week and you're all I've got, so I volunteered you. You won't be needed, I'll be able to manage, no problem," she asserted confidently.
"What about the pain?" I asked.
