Free Connected by Simon Denman

took some details then disappeared down the corridor. Doug watched
her as she left. What was it about nurses’ uniforms? This one certainly seemed
to be tight in all the right places, and although not in the least revealing,
seemed to beautifully highlight the contours of the shapely young body inside.
As if feeling his eyes on her, she looked back over her shoulder and smiled.
“I’ll be back for you in a minute,” she said flirtatiously.
“I’ll be ready!” replied Doug in a similar tone. The balding man huffed.
    As Doug waited, he thought of Cindy again. For two
days now, he had heard nothing. He’d tried calling her mobile, but the number
had been disconnected. Was she in some kind of trouble? Had she had an
accident? Did she know something about Kal’s death? Was that why she had run
away before the police had turned up? For all Doug knew, she could be dead
herself. For forty-eight hours, such questions had plagued him day and night,
but almost as strong as the curiosity to find answers, was his desire to feel her
naked body against his, and conclude what they had started. This was more than
a usual case of lust. This was pure, wild, unbridled animal attraction. He just
had to have her.
    “Mr. Richards? Dr. Singh will see you now,” said
the nurse. “Down the end here, and it’s the second door on the right.”
Doug stood up and started down the dimly lit corridor. Suddenly, he felt his
stomach churning. He stopped, looked around dizzily and threw up on the floor.
Within a few seconds the nurse was at his side with a waste bin and some
tissues.
“I’m sorry,” said Doug. “I think I must have got up too quickly.”
“No worries, let’s just sit you back down for a moment. Put this on the floor
like this and put your head between your knees - that’s right. Just stay like
that for a few minutes, while I get someone to clean this up.”
A little later, a rather gaunt looking man in his thirties or early forties
appeared wearing overalls and carrying a mop and bucket.
“Thank you Pavel” said the nurse, appearing from around the corner. The man
nodded and started slowly cleaning up the mess. She then led Doug to a nearby
examining room where he lay on the bed and waited.
    Dr. Singh was a slight man, probably in his mid
forties with short hair and a moustache. “How are you feeling, Mr. Richards?”
His voice was quiet and confident, and carried a heavy Indian accent.
“My stomach still feels a little delicate, and I still have a headache.”
Singh’s face darkened. He took a pen light from his pocket and shone it into
Doug’s eyes while asking him to explain exactly what had happened. As Doug
recounted the salient points leading to his blackout, the Doctor examined his
neck and torso, then tested his reflexes.
“And they said you were unconscious for over a minute?”
“That’s what they said, although for me it didn’t seem as if any time had
passed at all. One moment I was diving for the try-line, and the next I was
lying on my back looking up at a ring of faces.”
“Hmm. I think I’m going to keep you in for a little while. If the head-ache
disappears, and you don’t suffer any more nausea, you’ll be free to leave in a
couple of hours.”
“Is that really necessary? I mean, I just banged my head. Isn’t it natural I’m
going to have a headache?”
“Yes, the chances are you’ll be fine, but any concussion resulting in loss of
consciousness needs to be taken seriously. I want to keep you under observation
a little longer, just to be sure. If any other symptoms present, we may have to
schedule a scan, but for now you should rest. Did you have plans for this evening
Mr. Richards?”
“Well no, not really I suppose. I could do with finishing a computing
assignment, but with this headache, I probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate
enough anyway.”
“Right! Well, Nurse Baker will get you some ibuprofen for the headache and I’ll
come by and see you in an hour or so.”
Doug was