Serena and Edward 2 parter. Comments appreciated as always, especially since Serena is a bit of a foray into the unknown for me :)

1994 - November

'He's all style and no substance, that boy' her mother's voice was pregnant with disappointment and despair. She had always wanted the best for her only daughter and until now Serena had never fallen short of her expectations. On paper it shouldn't have been a disappointment. Her daughter had married another doctor, it ought to have been good news, but it wasn't. The problem wasn't so much that her daughter had gone behind her back, deprived her of a wedding and married in Las Vegas of all places. It was purely the choice of husband that distressed, and if she had married a decent man the Las Vegas wedding wouldn't have happened anyway. 'He'll break your heart'

'He won't' she replied with absolute certainty. She was well aware of Ed's history as a philandering commitmentphobe with a penchant for living life in the fast lane, but she totally believed him when he said that he'd changed. That meeting her had changed him. She adored him and he felt the same way about her, and for that reason they were going to have a happy life together. Yes, it was whirlwind, and yes her mother had every reason to be upset about the Las Vegas wedding, but that was sort of the point. For her whole life she had been sensible and, quite frankly, boring. She'd worked hard at school, she'd earned her straight As and she'd qualified as a doctor, just like her parents had always expected. She was a smart, intelligent woman but she was also bored out of her mind. Ed had changed that. He'd swept her off her feet with his sheer appetite for life and for the first time, at thirty years old, she'd discovered that life could be fun. The last three months had been a whirlwind of nights out, boat trips and spontaneous holidays and she had loved every second of it. Being with him made her a better person - a happier person – and she couldn't wait to spend the rest of her life with him. That was why when he'd asked her to marry him on their penultimate night in Las Vegas she hadn't hesitated. Yes it was quick, and yes her parents were probably going to go ballistic, but she would have done absolutely anything for him.

''Rena, he's a free spirit. The wedding might have been fun but do you really think that he's cut out for married life?'

'I know he is' she replied, thinking about the last forty-eight hours since their plane had landed. She'd expected the bubble of happiness to burst as soon as they touched down on British soil but it hadn't. He had arranged a cab to take them straight to the Savoy for dinner and a night in the honeymoon suite and when they'd arrived back at her flat he'd carried her, squealing and giggling, over the threshold and straight into the bedroom. They'd stayed there for twenty-four hours doing nothing but having lazy, wonderful sex and eating the American candy that he'd insisted on bringing back by the sack load, and now while she broke her mother's heart he was packing up his flat and moving into hers. 'I love him and he loves me. What else matters?'

'Plenty, but if you're happy then I suppose I'm happy for you'

'I am happy, mum' she replied, tears of happiness pricking at the back of her eyes because the only cloud over an otherwise perfect situation was that there was a chance, however small, that she would have to choose between her mother and her husband and that would break her heart.

'Well then' her mother replied wearily, rubbing her eyes, her shoulders slumped with defeat. There was nothing else to say.

1995 – January

It had been a long day; the longest of her working life, possibly of her whole life to date, and certainly the most harrowing. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed with a bottle of whisky and cry until she fell asleep and dreamt of the three children whose lives she'd been unable to save after the car accident that had claimed their parents. As she walked into the kitchen and dropped her handbag on a chair she saw him, standing beside the sink, staring out of the window over the grim little communal garden, already nursing what probably wasn't his first scotch of the night. He looked as drained as she felt and that was even worse because normally he had the endless energy and enthusiasm of an overexcited Labrador.

'Ed' she put her arms around him and rested her head in the space between his shoulder blades, reassured by his presence.

''Re…' he replied, not turning around to face her. He didn't need to; she could see the tears shimmering in his eyes in the reflection in the window and already hers were soaking the back of his shirt.

'We should eat something and go to bed' she told him eventually, always the voice of sense. Left to his own devices he would stay up into the night drinking and turn up for work in the morning still drunk, but she wouldn't allow it. She kept him on the straight and narrow and he taught her how to have fun. It was part of the reason why they worked so well.

'Eat something?' he echoed as if the very idea of doing something so normal was utterly insane.

'Pour me a drink' she replied, going to the fridge and grabbing the first thing that she laid her hands on, slamming it down on a plate. Apparently tonight they were going to be eating rocket and half of a left over tin of tuna. Not ideal but it got them fed and it required zero effort. They ate it in silence, knocking back the food with too much whisky and then he wrapped his arms around her, scooped her up in his embrace and took her to bed.

''Re, lets have a baby' she opened one eye, then the other, bemused by the request and the fact that she'd just woken up and her brain was foggy with sleep and too much whisky. He was lying beside her, his arms wrapped around her, his hands on her still-flat stomach as if he was imagining something growing inside. It ought to have freaked her out – god knows, she'd never wanted a family and she'd always been very clear about that with him – but somehow it felt right. Fitting. Three small children had lost their lives in the cruellest circumstances. Their having a baby wasn't going to bring them back, or do anything to ease the sorrow of the people those children had left behind, but it meant that, to them at least, the death of those children had a purpose.

'A baby? Really? What would either of us know about parenthood?' she asked, stammering out the words, protesting because she felt that she should at least play devil's advocate; because in their relationship that was her role.

'What does anybody know about parenthood before they have kids? We'll work it out' he replied, kissing her neck, nibbling on the sensitive, tender skin in a way that she hoped wouldn't leave an embarrassing mark. 'Think about it, 'Re. I love you and you love me. Is there a more perfect situation in which to have a child?'

'Both of us having permanent jobs' she replied, thinking of his locum position and his steadfast, infuriating refusal to get something more secure. 'Owning a property more substantial than a one bedroom flat?'

'We'll buy a house' he replied, not elaborating on where he proposed to get the money. 'There'll always be work for me; I'm a consultant anaesthetist and you're a consultant surgeon. You, me and the baby could be a family. Don't you want that?' he added and she gave up because the truth was, she did want it. She wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life.

1995 – May

She walked down the street in the darkness and she made a deal with herself. If she could get to the next lamppost without throwing up or getting mugged then it was all going to be fine. She would get to the shop, she would get what she needed without disgracing herself by vomiting on their floor, and she would get home again. She closed her eyes and walked forward. One step, two step, three step and she was under the lamp. Only then did she open her eyes again. Four more lampposts between her and the shop. It had been eight when she'd started this pathetic game as a way to distract herself from the raging nausea, the cramps and the dizzying headache that had plagued her constantly for the last two months. She was halfway there. She was going to be fine. She took a deep breath and carried on walking, pulling her coat tightly around her against the stares and the predatory stares of a couple of teenaged boys who walked past her. She knew that they probably weren't interested in her swollen, pregnant breasts – even her own husband wasn't that interested in them – but she was self conscious enough to want to hide them away. As Ed had commented in a show of characteristic crassness, she didn't look pregnant she just looked like a glamour model. At the thought of her husband she paused and retched, ignoring the looks from the teenagers who glanced back at her with suspicion and started to walk a little bit faster in case she keeled over and they got accused of hurting her. Three hours ago Ed had gone to fetch a bag of the Fruit Pastilles that were the only food that she could force down and a bottle of Lucozade, and he still hadn't returned. She'd stayed in bed feeling worse and worse but eventually she'd had to get up, leave a message on his phone asking where the hell he'd gone and go to the shop herself because if she didn't eat soon then she would probably faint again and she knew that anything else would just come straight back up again. Eventually she took another step, then another, getting closer to the next lamppost and then she saw it. Her husband's car parked under the streetlamp with two figures sitting in it. Silhouettes kissing over the handbrake. He'd gone out to get his pregnant wife some food and instead he'd managed to pick up some hussy. He even had her Fruit Pastilles on the back seat with the bloody Lucozade, but apparently bringing them the final two hundred yards to their front door had been too much to ask of a selfish serial philanderer. Swallowing back a bubble of bile she threw open the car door but she didn't confront them. She snatched her groceries from the back seat, slammed the door again and stormed straight back to the house.

''Rena, calm down' her mother instructed her. She knew that she was borderline hysterical, and that her mother was alarmed because generally she was calm, almost to a fault. She didn't do blistering rage or hysteria, but then she'd never been cheated on by her husband before – at least not that she knew of – and she'd never been pregnant before either.

'What the hell have I done?' it came out in a high pitched wail, almost drowned out by the door slamming and Ed taking the stairs two at a time, rattling the door handle with no success because she'd locked the door and wedged a chair underneath the handle for good measure. 'I'm pregnant and he's fucking cheating on me. He only went out to get me some sweets from the corner shop!'

'Sweets? You don't like sweets' her mother, easily distracted from the matter in hand as always, changed the subject.

'It's all I can keep down' she replied in another tranche of tears 'What am I going to do, mum?'

'Do?' her mother sounded surprised by the question 'What do you mean?'

'I can't be a single parent'

'Well then you'll have to stay with your husband' her mother replied reasonably.

'But he's cheating on me!'

'Well then you'll have to be a single parent. Those are the only choices, 'Rena' her mother replied. That wasn't strictly true; there was a third option, one that her mother refused to vocalise. She was only fourteen weeks pregnant. She could book an appointment, end the pregnancy, divorce her husband and go back to the career focussed life that she'd always intended before meeting Ed. And yet she knew that she wouldn't. The pregnancy was nightmarish and the options left by keeping the baby were unattractive but she thought about the scan, about how she'd felt when she'd seen the grainy white blob with arms, legs and a head out of proportion to everything else. She couldn't get rid of the baby, not now it was on the way.

'Fine' she grumbled, irrationally angry with her mother for telling her the truth rather than cushioning the blow.

'Whatever you decide, I'll be there to support you'

'I know' she replied, wiping away her tears, taking a swig of Lucozade straight from the bottle because she'd run upstairs without stopping by the kitchen to get a glass in case it gave Ed the opportunity to catch up with her. 'I have to go' she added, hanging up. Outside the door she could hear Ed's foot tapping against the paintwork. Clearly he was staging a sit in, waiting for her to be forced out of the bedroom by hunger, thirst or a need for the toilet. Rubbing her face in a vain attempt to wipe away the tearstains she opened the door and allowed him to take him in her arms. He might be a philandering bastard but he was her philandering bastard and life was better with him than without him.

1995 – October

'Where is he?' she demanded, arching her back, wishing that her husband would come because not only did she want to squeeze his hand until his fingers turned blue, she also wanted an anaesthetist, any anaesthetist, to give her an epidural.

'We've tried to call him' the midwife told her apologetically, rubbing her back in gentle circles 'He's not answering his mobile and nobody has seen him. I'm sorry. Perhaps we could call your mother'

'No' she replied. Adrienne had never been any good with the sight of blood and seeing her only daughter writhing in agony was liable to put her into a dead faint. Worrying about her mother was the last thing she needed now. She was already scared enough for herself, her baby and her missing husband. 'I want Ed'

'I know you do. I'll send another porter to ask around' the midwife replied, going to do so. It was, she knew, a special favour. Normal patients didn't get dedicated search parties to look for their errant spouses, but she worked here, and they looked after their own. Added to which, Ed was supposed to be on the premises somewhere, it was just that nobody knew where.

'Have them check theatres. And my office, he sometimes writes up his notes in there. And…' she trailed off, remembering where they had spent hours making love when they should have been working in the beginning of their relationship. Where he was renowned for taking members of staff who he wanted to sleep with. '… the linen cupboard on the third floor. Ask them to check there first'

'Why?' the midwife looked mystified, then embarrassed as she too remembered the rumours about Ed Campbell and his hospital harem.

'Just trust me. That's where he'll be'

'I'm here, 'Re' he charged into the room, red in the face, his scrub top skewed and his hair mussed up. Either he'd been sleeping in the on call room, in which case they'd have found in the first three times that they checked there, or else he'd been in the sodding linen cupboard. The fact that he smelt like cigarettes and cheap perfume was further evidence for the latter. 'I'm here'

'Where the hell have you been?' she snapped, grabbing his hand, squeezing it tightly as another contraction came over her and stole the words from her mouth.

'I'm sorry, my phone ran out of battery' he replied, kissing the back of her hand, rubbing her shoulders, whispering soothing reassurances until she stopped writhing and opened her eyes again to look at him. 'You haven't had an epidural'

'Of course I haven't' she spat 'There's never an anaesthetist around when you want one'

'I'll do it now' he replied, grabbing the tray of equipment that the midwife had already laid out for the non-existent anaesthetist.

'You're not allowed to, she's your wife'

'Trust me' he replied, gently helping her onto her side, swabbing her back with iodine. 'She'll be happier with the epidural and so will everybody else in the vicinity. If I fuck it up we won't sue'

'That's reassuring' she managed to mutter sarcastically, the words giving way to a muttered curse of pain as he slipped the needle into her back. For a couple of seconds there was silence, and she feared that he'd done something wrong, but then she felt the heaviness in her legs and the blissful numbness that came with it. He rolled her back towards him, propping her shoulders up with his arm, squeezing her gently as she leaned her head against his chest.

'It's alright now' he murmured into her hair 'It's all going to be alright'

1995 – November

''Re, about what happened…' he started nervously. She was sitting in the nursery, gazing over their sleeping daughter. Every part of her body ached, even parts that she didn't know existed before now, and she felt constantly on the verge of tears and yet she was happy. This tiny, nameless person with her angry little red face and her scrunched up fists made her happier than she'd ever been in her entire life. There was a reason why she hadn't started a discussion about where precisely her husband had been when she was in labour; she didn't want his appalling behaviour to sully what was otherwise a wonderful, once in a lifetime – for she certainly wasn't going to do it again – experience.

'What about it?' she asked, looking at him with tired eyes. Willing him to stop. If he wanted to leave her then he could leave her, but if he wanted to stay then that was fine too. She could live with being cheated on, lied to and made a fool of. She could live with being abandoned when she needed him most. She could pretend that the problem didn't exist. What she couldn't do was find it within her to tell him that what he'd done was okay. It wasn't. He'd behaved deplorably and she couldn't pretend otherwise.

'I'm sorry. I should have been there for you'

'Yes, you should, but you weren't. Shall we leave it at that?'

'I was with another woman'

'I know you were' she replied. She might have been half demented with hormones and exhaustion but she wasn't stupid. She'd known where her AWOL husband was and what he was doing from the first time his phone had gone straight to voicemail.

'Don't you mind?'

'What do you want from me, Edward? Do you want me to blow my top, throw you out and file for divorce? Because I can do that but frankly I haven't got the energy. I mind, more than I've ever minded anything. You've made a fool of me and a mockery of our marriage but I can live with it' she replied. The truth was, she sort of understood why it had happened. Before the pregnancy, when she'd enjoyed sex just as much as he had, he hadn't cheated – to her knowledge at least – because he had been getting everything that he needed at home. The problem came with the fact that when she was pregnant she barely wanted him in the same house as her, never mind in the same bed, and that meant that their sex life had been none existent for the better part of a year. And he was a man: he had needs and she wasn't fulfilling them. She could understand why he looked elsewhere to get his satisfaction because he'd never made any bones about being the kind of man who would take his thrills where he could get them.

'You can live with it?'

'Yes. I haven't let you touch me in months so you looked elsewhere. Big deal'

'Isn't it?'

'No. We have a daughter together. That's more important than your rampant libido'

'You're suggesting some kind of…' the words "open marriage" died on his lips but it didn't matter. She knew what he was going to say.

'Am I hell. If I find out you've done it again then I'll personally take a meat cleaver to you. What I can do, however, is forgive you for what you've done. If you want me to, that is'

'Yeah' he nodded wearily, put his arms around her and peered over her shoulder at the sleeping baby. 'I'd like that. I'm really sorry, 'Re'

'I know you are' she replied, the tears finally spilling over until she batted them away with the back of her hand. 'You only get to hurt me like this once' she added, but she knew that it wasn't true. They were already on the second time, and it was only a matter of time before he did it again.