Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange

had gone into the building, but only Sam had come out again on that life-changing day.
Sam thought of Bert lying in a hospital bed, away from Mabel, frightened and yet still fighting.
It happened. I couldn’t save them, but I tried. Other people are alive because of me.
Sipping his cooling drink, Sam wiped his sweat covered palms on the grass. At that moment he wasn’t sure what scared him more, the nightmares of his past or the fact that Bert was inside the building behind him and he couldn’t get to him.
‘Everything he’s done for me over the past year and I can’t help at all.’ Muttering to himself, Sam abruptly stopped talking, realising he was going around in circles and was in danger of feeling sorry for himself, which Bert would not approve of at all.
He checked his phone. There was still no text from Tina.
*
Mabel was shaking so much that Tina wasn’t sure she’d get her to the nearest seat before she collapsed to the floor and ended up being admitted and put in the bed next to Bert.
As soon as Tina had guided them both through the main doors of the hospital, Mabel had stood up straight, her old self much more in evidence. Not wanting to be seen not to be coping Tina had assumed. Together they managed to navigate their way to Coleridge ward, where they’d waited with growing anxiety for the receptionist to finish dealing with some other visitors before attending to them.
When, at last, it had been their turn, Mabel explained who they were, and who they had come to see. When the receptionist looked puzzled, Mabel had added that this was where, when she’d been here the day before, Bert had been allocated a bed, but she wasn’t sure where precisely she’d find him.
The receptionist’s response was not helpful, and had led directly to Mabel’s current shaken state.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Hastings, but your husband is no longer with us.’
The second she’d spoken the unwise words, and seen the devastating effect they’d had, the receptionist had blurted out apologies. ‘That came out so wrong, I’m so sorry. I meant he’s on a different ward now.’
Biting her tongue against what she’d like to say, Tina held Mabel close and sat her down, before asking, ‘Where is Mr Hastings and is he alright?’
‘He’s on Eliot Ward. I’m so sorry, I…’
Once the receptionist had waffled another apology, Tina said, ‘Perhaps you could look after Mrs Hastings while I try and find her husband. Visiting time will be over before he’s had a single visitor, but I’m not sure Mabel should go anywhere for a second.’
‘Look, I really am—’
Tina beckoned the receptionist away from Mabel’s side. She looked exhausted. ‘We all make mistakes, and I appreciate your apology. Could you just give me directions to Eliot Ward and perhaps loan me a wheelchair for Mabel? I honestly don’t think she could walk far right now. Oh, and could you tell me what we can expect when we get there. Is it Intensive Care, is it a pneumonia ward?’
‘Oh no, nothing like that.’ The woman smiled, and Tina realised she was much younger than she’d first thought. ‘Mr Hasting’s breathing calmed within hours. He still needs the help of a mask, but nothing like the major equipment we have in here.’
Tina felt light headed as the news sank in. ‘You mean he’s alright?’
‘All I can promise is that when I last saw Mr Hastings, he was telling the young porter pushing his trolley that if he wanted to colour his hair he should, because life was too short for regrets.’
A hysterical giggle escaped Tina’s lips. ‘How on earth did that conversation start?’
‘I have no idea.’ The receptionist waved to a colleague on the desk and asked if Jamie would come with a chair, and if he’d phone through to Eliot Ward to tell them that Mrs Hastings was on her way, and should be allowed an additional ten minutes to standard visiting hours.
‘Thank you.’ Tina nodded her gratitude.
‘I’m sorry it’s only ten minutes extra, but the drug rounds start then, and routine is so important in a place like this.’
‘I quite understand.’ Tina dashed back to explain the situation to Mabel, while they waited for the aforementioned Jamie to appear.
*
Jamie knew far more about Bert than the receptionist had. For a start, he knew that Bert favoured redheads to blondes, and when he was a lad, any female with ginger hair had, as he’d put it, “ticked his box”.
Tina hadn’t been sure how Mabel would respond to that, but as the old lady patted her own hair in self-satisfaction, Tina could only laugh. ‘Those luscious locks were once red then, Mabel?’
‘They were. Bert loved them.’
Jamie laughed. ‘He still does.’
Tina was just wondering how Bert had managed to be so chatty when he was supposed to be having breathing difficulties and be wearing an oxygen mask, when Jamie explained what had happened after Mabel left.
‘I was one of the porters who brought Bert up to Coleridge. I’m training as a nurse part time, so I’m a bit more aware of the medial lingo, and often help out with the small nursing jobs when things are busy.
‘Bert was admitted because he couldn’t catch his breath properly, something not uncommon in pneumonia. It’s frightening for the patient, but often even more frightening for their loved ones to watch.’
‘You can say that again.’ Mabel gripped the arms of the wheelchair as they moved through the stark off-white corridor.
‘Sometimes the episodes of breathing difficulties can be very severe indeed, in other cases, an occasional period of shortness of breath is just a symptom of the whole illness, rather than the thing that takes over and becomes the issue around which the whole problem revolves – if that makes sense.’
Tina exhaled slowly. ‘And Bert falls into the episodes of shortness of breath category?’
‘He does.’ Jamie smiled at Mabel as they pulled up in the reception of Eliot Ward. ‘And while still a serious