OF DREAMS AND CEREMONIES Read Online Free
Author: Julie Bozza
a slut for it."
Nicholas groaned again, and surged forward. "You're sure?" he asked, hesitating at the last possible moment.
"Do it," said Dave. And they both cried out as Nicholas impaled him.
two
Dave woke at a far more reasonable hour the next morning, and shared a late breakfast with Nicholas, before making his excuses and heading off to meet Simon at eleven. He figured he'd tell Nicholas about it afterwards.
Simon was waiting for him in the main hall, and showed Dave through to the neat little office just beyond the hidden door. "How may I help you, David?" he asked in a warm yet professional manner once they'd both sat down.
"It's about Nicholas," Dave blurted out.
Simon didn't even blink. "Yes, of course."
"It's about - He told me about - about the brain aneurysm, you see. And I wanted to make sure that I understood. I figured - you'd have made it your job to know what to do, what to be careful of. I want to make sure I know that, too."
About halfway through this stumbling explanation, Simon had begun smiling softly, and after a brief pause he said, "Nicholas has made a very good choice in you, hasn't he?"
Dave coloured up, and remained silent, though to himself he fervently swore, 'God, I hope so.'
"If I know anything about you, Mr Taylor," Simon continued, "I would guess you've already done your homework."
"Yes. I know that only one in twelve- or thirteen-thousand people have a ruptured aneurysm each year in England."
"And in Nicholas's case, it's a small aneurysm, sir. A diameter of less than seven millimetres."
"Oh. Good." He hadn't known that. Cerebral aneurysms could measure even five centimetres or more, and of course the larger they got the more dangerous they were.
"He has it monitored, and he's on medication. I'm sure you'll support him in that, though Nicholas takes the matter quite as seriously as you'd wish him to."
"But he hasn't had surgery to fix it."
"The balance of risks doesn't make surgery worthwhile - under present circumstances. It might become more desirable later. But I'm afraid that even surgery wouldn't entirely fix the problem, David; it would only reduce the likelihood of rupture."
Dave nodded. Things weren't quite as bleak as he'd feared, though it was bad enough. "The problem is …" he slowly continued, "if something happens, if it ruptures, there probably won't be anything I can do about it. And I hate that."
"Of course there'll be plenty to do, sir," Simon briskly replied. "You'll need to immediately call for an ambulance. The emergency number is 999 here in England."
"Yes."
"He will be - I'm sorry, sir, but you'd best be prepared. Nicholas will probably be in a great deal of pain. They describe it as … beyond the most excruciating of headaches. You'll need to take care of him. He'll be disoriented. He might lapse into unconsciousness. And he might vomit, so you'll need to make sure his airways remain clear. But I know you have a current first aid certificate, so you'll know what to do."
"Of course. Yes." Dave swallowed, not liking at all to think of Nicholas in agonising pain, and probably terrified as well. But Simon was right - it was better to imagine it now, and not be shocked or panicked into being good for nothing at the time. "The - the recovery position. Will be useful."
"Just so. He'll be in good hands with you, David, until the medical personnel arrive. I have no fears for him on that account. And I'm sure he'll find your presence a great comfort."
He asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"
"I don't think so, sir. It seems you're aware of the important matters, and I'm sure your research has detailed far more."
Dave was quiet for a time. Mentally girding himself. Hoping that such preparation would never be called on. At last he thought to say, "If his family are concerned - Would you reassure them? I'll do my very best for him. I really will."
"They know as much, sir, but I'll tell Lord Goring that we've spoken, if I may."
"Of
Nicholas groaned again, and surged forward. "You're sure?" he asked, hesitating at the last possible moment.
"Do it," said Dave. And they both cried out as Nicholas impaled him.
two
Dave woke at a far more reasonable hour the next morning, and shared a late breakfast with Nicholas, before making his excuses and heading off to meet Simon at eleven. He figured he'd tell Nicholas about it afterwards.
Simon was waiting for him in the main hall, and showed Dave through to the neat little office just beyond the hidden door. "How may I help you, David?" he asked in a warm yet professional manner once they'd both sat down.
"It's about Nicholas," Dave blurted out.
Simon didn't even blink. "Yes, of course."
"It's about - He told me about - about the brain aneurysm, you see. And I wanted to make sure that I understood. I figured - you'd have made it your job to know what to do, what to be careful of. I want to make sure I know that, too."
About halfway through this stumbling explanation, Simon had begun smiling softly, and after a brief pause he said, "Nicholas has made a very good choice in you, hasn't he?"
Dave coloured up, and remained silent, though to himself he fervently swore, 'God, I hope so.'
"If I know anything about you, Mr Taylor," Simon continued, "I would guess you've already done your homework."
"Yes. I know that only one in twelve- or thirteen-thousand people have a ruptured aneurysm each year in England."
"And in Nicholas's case, it's a small aneurysm, sir. A diameter of less than seven millimetres."
"Oh. Good." He hadn't known that. Cerebral aneurysms could measure even five centimetres or more, and of course the larger they got the more dangerous they were.
"He has it monitored, and he's on medication. I'm sure you'll support him in that, though Nicholas takes the matter quite as seriously as you'd wish him to."
"But he hasn't had surgery to fix it."
"The balance of risks doesn't make surgery worthwhile - under present circumstances. It might become more desirable later. But I'm afraid that even surgery wouldn't entirely fix the problem, David; it would only reduce the likelihood of rupture."
Dave nodded. Things weren't quite as bleak as he'd feared, though it was bad enough. "The problem is …" he slowly continued, "if something happens, if it ruptures, there probably won't be anything I can do about it. And I hate that."
"Of course there'll be plenty to do, sir," Simon briskly replied. "You'll need to immediately call for an ambulance. The emergency number is 999 here in England."
"Yes."
"He will be - I'm sorry, sir, but you'd best be prepared. Nicholas will probably be in a great deal of pain. They describe it as … beyond the most excruciating of headaches. You'll need to take care of him. He'll be disoriented. He might lapse into unconsciousness. And he might vomit, so you'll need to make sure his airways remain clear. But I know you have a current first aid certificate, so you'll know what to do."
"Of course. Yes." Dave swallowed, not liking at all to think of Nicholas in agonising pain, and probably terrified as well. But Simon was right - it was better to imagine it now, and not be shocked or panicked into being good for nothing at the time. "The - the recovery position. Will be useful."
"Just so. He'll be in good hands with you, David, until the medical personnel arrive. I have no fears for him on that account. And I'm sure he'll find your presence a great comfort."
He asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"
"I don't think so, sir. It seems you're aware of the important matters, and I'm sure your research has detailed far more."
Dave was quiet for a time. Mentally girding himself. Hoping that such preparation would never be called on. At last he thought to say, "If his family are concerned - Would you reassure them? I'll do my very best for him. I really will."
"They know as much, sir, but I'll tell Lord Goring that we've spoken, if I may."
"Of
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