Fairytale on 5th Avenue
"What if I told you I am incapable of tolerating my own heart?" - Virginia Woolf
Connie and Jacob. A Christmas love story.
Her hair was pinned at the nape of her neck, a perfect curl of a bun that had begun to work its way loose. She could feel it now, the slivers of metal against her scalp – the hair grips that held it up growing ice cold.
She looked up at the sky, the stars glimmering, fading and then glowing bright, shuddering and then all at once going out. And she thought how in just 9 hours time, on the other side of the world, Grace might look up to see the same stars as she was seeing now.
She exhaled, and her breath bloomed white from her lips, up, up, spiralling into the sky like slowly fading ribbons.
Today had been a long day. Today had been the sort of day that there could never be too few of – the sort of day when even the most menial of tasks could, and would, go wrong. If she hadn't stopped to re-pin her hair, if she hadn't misplaced the patients notes for only the briefest of moments, if she hadn't had to go back for her stethoscope...would the little girl in RESUS bay 2 lived?
She closed her eyes and drew in another breath, the chill of the air within her lungs made her shiver and she tightened her arms about herself. She could feel her kneecaps trembling beneath the sheer black fabric of her tights, and she wished for the hundredth time that day she had a reason to go home.
"I'd have thought you'd know better."
Jacob's voice made her tense. She opened her eyes, blinking against the glare of car headlights from the car park opposite the hospital entrance.
"Standing out here in the cold..."
She could sense him, she could feel him near her as she so often did. She cast an eye over the city scape before her, and the scattering of trees about the car park, branches rattling like bones in the wind with the flash of leaves like tattered flags kindling in the gloom.
"Oh...since when did knowing better stop anyone..."
She cleared her throat, her words were all but a whisper in the dark. Never, she thought, are voices so beautiful as on a winter's evening, when the night almost hides the body, and they seem to issue from nothingness with a note of intimacy seldom heard by day.
She turned to face him, allowing her arms to fall to her sides. She looked up at him, the white of his shirt almost luminous and stark in contrast with the darkness of his skin.
His arms were folded across his chest, she could see the flex of muscle beneath the rolled up sleeves and she thought fleetingly of his injury.
"How is your arm, is it..."
She allowed her voice to be carried away by the wind, she could barely form the thought, she could barely bring herself to care, on a night like this, when the stars were so very far away...
"You did well today."
He said quietly, ignoring her question. Instead he held her gaze when she looked back up at him, and she couldn't help but smile – just the twitch of a smile, the ever so slight downturn at the corners of her mouth – the exhausted, dwindling spark behind her eyes igniting one last time.
She shook her head and glanced away, looking into the distance, the lights of the city seeming to pixelate before her.
"You thinking about Grace?"
How was it that he always knew just what she was thinking...?
She pursed her lips against her smile and drew up her shoulders, wrapping her arms about herself once more.
"I'm always thinking about Grace."
She whispered.
-.-
I received a private message on here asking if I might be able to write an on-going story about the relationship between Connie and Jacob...so here it is! The first instalment. I hope it's enjoyed. Please review and let me know what you think, and whether you would be interested in reading more.
Many thanks. xxx