Helena and I were practicing for a demonstration, one that made use of our particular qualities at the time – we were both very flexible, very fast and very strong. We were putting together a technique that involved me blocking a punching attack and then, with lightning speed, countering with a roundhouse kick to Helena’s face.

We had practiced it many times and it was really starting to come together – it looked quite spectacular and we were beginning to feel confident that it would impress an audience at a demonstration that we had planned a few weeks later. We just needed to improve the timing and speed so that it looked real.

Just another couple of repetitions and then we would move on to something else. Helena came in with her attack, I blocked and I launched my round house.

Crack!

Oh shit, it connected!

It was a very loud crack like a pistol shot. Everybody looked round and jaws dropped in horror. Everything went into slow motion – people running up to Helena from behind her and catching her before she hit the ground. There was blood everywhere. I came to my senses and helped to carry her to the kitchen off the side of the hall – somebody had began to gently wash her face and she started coming round – she had been out cold.

As she regained consciousness, she started swearing at me. Normally when Helena was angry with me she would swear at me in Swedish so that nobody else would understand – that is one of the benefits of having a second language…you can actually have an argument in the company of other people and so long as you don’t raise your voice, nobody is any the wiser.

But this time, Helena was swearing at me in English and was also raising her voice. The swearing really was most colourful and most people would have associated the content with a drunken naval recruit and not a young and stunningly good looking Swedish blond girl. The kitchen was crowded with other students and instructors and I was very embarrassed indeed – but more than that I was worried.

Helena’s nose was not just red and swollen, it was flattened against the left side of her face and we were unsure as to whether we should be calling an ambulance.

After a couple of minutes, Helena started to calm down and the swearing abated.  She fell quiet for a while - the shock must have started to wear off.

She then looked at me and said: “Boy, did you miss-judge that one!” I could have sworn that she slipped forwards just as my kick had reached the point of no return, but she remains adamant to this day that the fault was entirely mine – I suppose that I’ll just have to wear that one.

She sighed and looked at me. I must have looked in quite a bad state and she tried to comfort me by saying: “At least I swore at you in Swedish.” There was a collective shaking of heads all around the kitchen and those present said in unison: “Oh no you didn’t!” Helena turned a slight shade of pink, matching her nose.

Helena wasn’t aware of how she looked and the shock must still have been keeping the pain at bay as she was quite surprised when I said that we should leave and take her to Accident and Emergency at the local hospital.

On the way to the hospital, Helena’s nose must have started to ache and throb. She was really quite quiet. In fact, knowing her as well as I did, I could see her start to get angrier and angrier – and I was feeling absolutely devastated: embarrassed for making such a dick of myself in front of so many people, ashamed because I somehow felt like such a bully and guilty because I had caused her so much pain …and I was sure that there was to be more pain before all this was over.

It was a surprisingly short wait at Portsmouth Hospital A & E – Sunday morning cannot have been their rush-hour. Helena was x-rayed and after a while a doctor came to give us the verdict. Helena was in a foul mood and the conversation went something like this:

Doc: “I’ve had a look at your x-rays and it is quite clear that your nose is broken.

Helena: “Oh!”

Doc: “Just out of interest, how did it happen?”

Helena: “I was kicked!”

Doc: “By what?”

Helena: “A foot!!!!”

Doc: “Oh, I’m sorry; I meant that I thought it might have been a horse or something.’

Helena: “No, it was him!”

Helena was pointing at me with eyes of fire.

The doctor didn’t ask, and I didn’t try to explain – but goodness knows what went through his head. The doctor went on to explain that we would have to wait for a couple of weeks for the nose to partially heal before it could be re-broken and re-set. An appointment for the procedure was made and Helena was given instructions not to eat or drink for eight hours before the operation as she would be under general aesthetic.

This news did nothing for Helena’s mood and we did not talk at all walking back to the car or during the half hour drive back home.

By the time we got home, Helena’s mood was explosive – she had a very big black cloud hanging over her head – one that was throwing bolts of lightening into her skull, and I was doing my best to appear as small and non-threatening as possible.

As soon as we got home, Helena dived onto the phone and phoned home to Sweden. She was obviously after some sympathy and was probably expecting to hear something like: “See what a useless prick you married. Why don’t you leave him and come back home to us?”

That is not quite what happened. The conversations actually went something like this:

Helena: ….”and I broke my nose!” (Semi sob)

Family: “Oh dear, who did it?”

Helena: “Guss!!”

Family: “Oh no! That’s terrible! He must be feeling awful, how is he?”

I did feel awful. But years later, we still find it very funny that I got all the sympathy and she got absolutely none…except from me and, therefore, she mellowed fairly quickly and we were friends again.

Later that night, her nose continued to swell to the size of a marrow and the next day, her entire face was swollen and she had two incredible black eyes. Helena was studying “Travel and Tourism” at the time and there was no way that she wanted to show herself to anyone – so she had a few days off college.

A couple of weeks later, I drove Helena to the hospital. She dressed herself into the obligatory nightgown and lay down in the wards waiting for her operation. I was there calming her nerves and doing my best to distract her from the unpleasantness that lay ahead.

It didn’t take long before the nurse turned up with the premed. I have no idea what was in that tablet, but it launched Helena into outer space and she was having a wail of a time. She was very happy, very giggly and everything was extremely amusing. I was not a little jealous!

After a while, the doctor came to give her the once over and walked along with her as she was wheeled into the theatre. I could clearly hear the conversation that went on between Helena and the doctor:

Helena: “Is all this really necessary?” – (giggle)

Doc: (silence)

Helena: “Can’t my husband just kick it back or something?” – (giggle)

Doc: (silence)