I had a free lesson this afternoon so I wrote this to cure my boredom :) -Sophie x
"She just needs to know she's your priority."
These words of Zoe's echoed in her mind as she tried to process what she had done.
"Unless you're laid on this bed then you are NOT my priority!"
As soon as she'd said those words, she knew it was a huge mistake. That was something unforgiveable, even coming from Connie's mouth.
Grace was becoming more and more troublesome as they days wore on and turned into weeks. Weeks of continuous running off, misbehaving and ignoring her mother. Connie was slowly losing grip of what handle she had originally on her daughter. Her hand was slipping, slipping, slipping… until it finally fell- at the moment Connie shouted at her in resus. She knew then that that was it; she'd lost it.
"I'm sorry, I need to-" the clinical lead muttered, moving a slender hand to her cheeks to wipe away the tears that had begun to fall.
Instead of going after Grace, Connie walked as fast as she could out of resus, through reception and out into the car park. Swinging the door of her car open, she climbed in and shut it with an almighty slam.
Connie put her head against the steering wheel, and sobbed.
She wept for the lost love between her and her daughter; the care that had gone walkabouts over the last few years.
She wept for her dignity and pride that was slowly being eaten away. The decision to bring her daughter into work was a bad one, even she could see that now. All the little girl did was destroy Connie's pristine reputation, and make her out to be a bad mother in front of all her colleagues.
But most of all, she wept for her, Connie Beauchamp; a woman in a man's world with a troublesome daughter and no-one to love her- except her close relationship with survivors guilt, that is.
She hadn't been the same since the crash that day. Something had changed within her.
"If I hadn't have made them go on that trip, Jeff would still be here and everything would be the way it used to be before." She'd tell herself as another glass of wine was poured, and she became another gulp closer to passing out- mind free from guilt.
Connie spent most of her nights drinking her woes away in the living room. She needed something, anything, to fill the emptiness that was omnipresent within her mind and her body. She needed someone to hold her and tell her everything will be alright. But the woman had no-one, so it was up to the drink once more.
Suddenly remembering, she went into her glove box and pulled out the small bottle of vodka she'd bought the previous morning.
Smiling to herself, she unscrewed the cap and took a large gulp; quivering with delight as the liquid set fire to her mouth and burnt her throat as she swallowed.
Immediately, the consultant felt more relaxed, more at ease. Alcohol was the only thing that had this effect on her, and so it became her one and only sacred treasure.
It was then she realised her current situation- she was a clinical lead, sat in her £50,000 car, wearing an outfit that came to well over £1000, drinking her sorrows away.
But for once, Connie no longer cared. She laughed to herself until that laughter became tears, blissfully unaware of her daughter's anguish as she was held by someone that wasn't, her mother.