Deleted scene #3: Taking Stock

Laurie is stuck in the hospital and desperately wants to go home.

No time like the present, Laurie thought to himself. There wasn’t anyone here to stop him.

He hauled himself up using the right-hand bed-rail and swung his legs over the left-hand side of the bed. There. He was sitting upright. On his own.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out. His feet were flat on the tiled floor, reassuringly solid and cold beneath them. He wiggled his toes and watched all ten of them respond with detached interest. Well they seemed to be working all right. That was a relief. It was all coming back gradually, like they said it would.

It had been three weeks now. He was sick of being hovered over. He was done with it. He was going to prove to them that he could manage on his own and then he was going to get Sally to take him home.

He reached for the stick that the nurse had left beside the bed. A walking frame was no good, because his hand wasn’t working well enough yet. Carefully, he put his weight on his legs and leaning on the stick in his right hand, he pushed himself to his feet.

Jesus, that was an effort.

He balanced himself on his good leg and the stick, tentatively lifting his left leg. It went up all right, but it was a struggle. He concentrated really hard, dragging the foot forward. One step. One step at a time, that’s all he needed to think about.

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Deleted Scene #2: Taking Stock

I had a lot of backstory about how Laurie’s friends dealt with his stroke that were from different POV’s and/or slowed it all down unbearably. Here, Sally, Laurie’s best friend, is talking to Patsy, who runs the Post Office.

Deleted Scene #2

“He’s going to be a handful,” Patsy Walker said to her friend Sally Beelock as she filled the tea-pot. “You’ll have trouble with him.”

Sally pulled a face. “You don’t need to tell me that,” she said. “He’s already talking about coming home and the stupid idiot can’t even stand up without help yet.”

“He’s improving though, yes?” Patsy asked.

“Yes, definitely. And it’s only been a week. They say that he needs to keep trying to move everything, his arm, his fingers, his leg, and the more he does that the more it’ll help.” She sighed. “They don’t know if it’ll all come back properly, but they say there’s a good chance.”

Patsy passed her a mug of tea and sat down opposite her at the kitchen table where she could see in to the shop. There weren’t any customers at the moment, but the early autumn day was warm and  she had the outside door propped open as usual, so the bell wouldn’t ring if anyone came in and she had to keep an eye out.

“How are you managing?” she asked Sally. “It must have been a shock. He’s only what, thirty?”

“Thirty-three,” Sally said absently. “Yes. I thought that was curtains for him to be honest, Pat. Jimmy came down to get me at Carsters once  the ambulance had gone. He didn’t tell me much, just said I should get into the hospital. Apparently he was unconscious, pretty much.”

Patsy patted her hand. “Well, he’s going to be fine, love. You’ll see. Look at Roger Chedzoy. He had a stroke four years ago and you’d never really know to look at him now.”

“He’s sixty-three though,” Sally said. “I mean, there’s never a good age, is there? But Laurie’s so young.”

Patsy nodded. “And that means he’s got more fight in him and he’ll get over it quickly. You’ll see.”

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