It was curiosity that finally opened her eyes. She was alone. Turning her head slightly, she could see the monitor; she thought the squiggles that raced across the screen looked okay. On the other side of the bed, tubing ran from a bag of fluid into her left hand. She watched it closely for a few seconds; it was dripping very slowly. She decided that was a good sign. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to remember what had happened. Had she stumbled into the traffic? There had been a scream, then a blow that had sent her sailing through the air, a faint memory of feeling weightless before she hit the ground and the world dissolved into pain. A car, she guessed, although she wasn’t sure; she felt like she’d been trampled by a herd of elephants but unless there was a serious problem in London Zoo, she doubted there were many of them on the streets of London. She distinctly remembered being confused about the lights; hadn’t she seen turquoise eyes? Maybe she’d stupidly walked out onto the road at the wrong time.

Panic started to build then, how badly hurt was she? She didn’t seem able to move. Nor was she in any pain. Oh God, she couldn’t feel anything, maybe she was paralysed. The beeping of the monitor increased in speed and escalated her fear, a spiral that might have gone on if the door hadn’t opened and a kindly face appeared looking down at her from what seemed to be a great height. A soothing hand on her arm gave instant relief, she could feel it. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

‘You’re going to be fine,’ the woman said, her voice soft and calming. ‘I’m Edel, your nurse. Are you in pain?’

Molly gave the question some thought. ‘No.’ The word came out a husky croak.

‘Good. You’ve had some pain relief, but we can give you more if needed. You’re in Guy’s Hospital, Molly, okay?’

Guy’s. A good one. ‘Am I paralysed?’ Better to know than keep guessing.

‘No, you were very lucky,’ Edel said with a smile. ‘A broken rib where you collided with the ground and a lot of bruising. You were unconscious for a while and then semi-conscious for the last several hours, so you’ll be kept in for observation. That’s standard with any concussion, but all going well, you’ll be fine.’

Molly’s lips were dry and her tongue felt too big for her mouth. ‘Can I have a drink?’

Edel used the bed control to sit Molly more upright, pushed a bed table within reach and put a glass of water in her hand. ‘Take it slowly,’ she advised.

Even a little drop made a difference. ‘How long have I been here?’