‘When can I play again?’ Tim asked, with another glance at his father.
‘When you’ve healed. I’d say in two to four months. No deep knee bending, and if you have any more pain you need to stop what you’re doing immediately and rest. Put ice on it, wrap an elastic bandage round it and elevate your leg.’
‘If you overstrain it,’ Jennifer said, ‘your knee will get worse and it will be harder to treat, so it’ll get to the point where you won’t be able to play again. Ever.’ She looked at Garrett. ‘So your son wants to be a professional footballer?’
‘He’s supposed to be playing in front of the talent scout next week.’
‘Sorry, Tim. That’s rotten luck.’ She patted his shoulder. ‘But if you rest your leg now, you’ll be in a better position to see the talent scout in six months’ time.’
‘Doesn’t anyone around here understand how important next week is?’ Garrett demanded.
‘Yes. But I’m sure you’ll agree—as Tim’s coach, I presume?—that his health is more important. Everyone recovers from injury at a different rate, but if he goes back too soon it could lead to permanent damage. So isn’t it better to wait for six months and give him a chance than to go for next week and risk Tim not playing up to his usual game and maybe wrecking his knee for good?’ Jennifer asked.
‘This is ridiculous,’ Garrett said. ‘I knew we should have gone private.’
‘A private hospital would have told you exactly the same as Dr Martínez,’ Jennifer said. ‘Tim needs to wait until his knee’s no longer tender before he even thinks about going back onto the football field.’
‘As his coach, you can help by making sure he has a proper warm-up routine, especially for his thigh, hamstring and calf muscles,’ Ramón said. ‘When he can straighten and bend his knee without pain, jog without limping and finally jump without pain, then he can go back into training.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ Garrett looked ready to thump something. The wall, a desk—or perhaps the doctor who stood before him.
‘Let me take you into my office for a cup of coffee,’ Jennifer said with a warm smile. ‘It’s quieter there and it’ll give you time to take it all in while Dr Martínez straps up Tim’s leg.’
For a moment Ramón thought Garrett was about to refuse. But then he sighed, nodded and followed Jennifer out of the room.
Without his father’s presence, Tim was more truthful about the pain and how long it had been going on. By the time Tim’s leg was strapped up, Garrett returned.
‘I, um, want to apologise. About earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude. I was worried about my boy,’ he said gruffly.
‘No problem,’ Ramón said. ‘But you need to stick to the regime until Tim is well again.’
‘I know. R-I-C-E,’ Garrett said. ‘Rest, ice, compression, elevation. I am a qualified trainer, you know.’
Which made it even worse in Ramón’s eyes. As a professional, Garrett should know not to push his son’s body beyond its limits. But now wasn’t the time for censure. ‘Good luck. And if you have any worries, come back and see me,’ Ramón said. ‘The orthopaedics team will be in touch in the next week.’
Once the Garretts had gone, Ramón went in search of Jennifer. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Are you a mind-reader?’
‘No. He was pretty loud,’ Jennifer said. ‘And I thought someone ought to step in to stop you two killing each other.’
‘I would never resort to violence,’ Ramón said haughtily.
‘I was speaking metaphorically.’
‘Sorry. I owe you an apology, as well as thanks.’
She shrugged. ‘I can handle alpha males.’
‘Alpha males?’
‘Big and bossy,’ she elaborated.
He grinned. ‘So what did you do to Garrett?’
‘Listened,’ she said. ‘I had a hunch.’
‘And?’
‘Sometimes,’ Jennifer said, ‘people want to live the lives they never had through other people.’
Ramón folded his arms. ‘And…?’
‘He’d missed out being talent-spotted at Tim’s age, so he wanted to make sure that Tim had the chances he never had.’
‘Even if Tim doesn’t really want to be a professional footballer?’
‘Toby just needs time to think about it.’
‘Toby?’
‘Tim’s father.’
Oh. So they were on first-name terms already? Jealousy twisted in Ramón’s gut. No way was he letting that bully loose on his Jennifer.
‘Anything you wanted in particular? I have some obs to do,’ Jennifer said.
‘Of course.’ He paused. ‘But I want to thank you properly. Have lunch with me?’
‘Thanks, but there’s really no need. I was just doing my job.’
Her voice was quiet but determined. He realised that if he insisted now, he’d lose her. But he wasn’t going to give up. He was just going to take a different route. And he knew exactly where to start.
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