This is an (I think) 3 parter of which 2.5 parts are already written so hopefully I won't end up abandoning it. I hope that it is ok :) and I am always grateful to people who read - and for any reviews left.
She closed her eyes and rested a hand against her abdomen, wondering how something so very small could sap her energy so efficiently. She couldn't remember a time when she had felt so utterly exhausted. Today had seemed like a never-ending battle; a list of patients which appeared to grow longer each time she returned to the ward, her seeming inability to keep even the most meagre amounts of food in her stomach and the near constant pestering of Maureen Effanga had all added to her already dangerously high stress levels.
She knew she should be grateful; in some ways she was. She had something that many women longed for; indeed it was something that she had felt a pang for when the invisible door of motherhood had slammed shut in her face. But, she didn't want motherhood like this. She wasn't sure she was cut out to be a single mother. She didn't really have anyone she could model in that area, nor did she know if she could learn the skills on her own. She knew the basic stuff; it wasn't that she wouldn't be able to physically care for the child. That wasn't the bit that bothered her; the nappy changes and the night feeds. It was the emotional side. The being able to show the child love, unconditionally. She knew what it was to be a child emotionally neglected and she wouldn't wish that on the unborn life in her womb.
But maybe she could love. She had loved in the past, or what she had felt what she thought was love. So perhaps she was capable of it; though it had never lasted. It had never lasted for long and therein lied the problem. This child would be with her for a lifetime, and it would require love for its lifetime – and for her love was a fleeting emotion.
Though, it was fleeting because people left; the child would not leave her. The child would stay with her and so perhaps the love would stay do. It would not leave them, and she could sustain it for a lifetime.
Then again, wasn't it her own fault that people left? She pushed them away, stopped them getting closer, and prevented them from uncovering the darkness of her soul. The closer they came, the closer they came to discovering her weaknesses and vulnerabilities and these were not things she wanted on show. Already the child was trying to force these to the surface, forcing tears to her eyes when no tears should be shed. Tears were not to be shed in public, where they could be seen. Her tears were her own and they were private.
She had pushed Jonny. He had come close. The barriers have started to crumble, the façade slipping away in the safety of his arms. She had wondered, if they had a chance. If there was potential for a future together. She had wanted it. For the briefest of time she had wanted that future; to have him for a lifetime.
It wasn't to be. She had protected herself by pushing him away, protected herself from his rejection. The rejection that would have come when he found out about her condition, the one that had slammed closed the potential for a family. She had pushed him away, to protect herself; only she had ended up hurt. The game that should have hurt only him, hurt her as well. It had shattered them both and now they skirted around each other; not quite civil and with the hint of longing.
But he had given her something. In a moment of shared weakness – his mistake he said – he had helped her to create the child nestled within. He didn't know it existed. She knew he would have too, that he deserved to hear it from her and not through the gossiping of colleagues or from noticing the way her abdomen bulged and became rounded. If she allowed it to get that far.
She was so very tired, and her head just seemed to run away with. No matter how exhausted she was, she just couldn't seem to switch off from her thoughts and the way they raced around her head. She needed to sleep, to turn them off just for a short time. To be left alone, to become strong again. Strong enough to make the decisions she needed to make, to be able to tell him either way.
She needed time.
"Jac" It was Mo's voice and Jac's eyes snapped open. The registrar had walked in without invitation. Her face was strained, a sheen of tears in her eyes.
"No more lecturers Mo" Jac spoke wearily, she was not in the mood for this. Mo blinked, trying to clear her bleary eyes and wanting to seem in control. She wasn't sure what to expect from this, and that scared her.
"It's not that" Mo's voice was strained and Jac straightened herself up in her chair and ran a hand through her hair. Aware of the other woman's presence, the hand that had been resting on her abdomen slipped down on to her lap.
"Because I'm not in the mood to discuss Jonny Maconie" it was a statement and it dared Mo to defy it. She didn't feel up to having another conversation about the Scottish nurse; having to pretend that she didn't care about him even though she knew Mo knew differently. It was hard to keep up the pretence with his child playing havoc with her emotions.
"It is about Jonny" Mo answered, her voice close to cracking as she spoke her best friend's name. This was the conversation you never wanted to have, involving words that you never wanted to say.
"What's he done now" Jac sounded exasperated, but she failed to disguise the interest in her voice. And Mo clenched her fist, feeling the cracks start to form. She was splintering apart in front of the consultant but she couldn't afford to, not yet.
"He's in A&E" Mo said the words so softly, not wanting them to be true. She could have let someone else to do this, to have this conversation. She could have gone to him, been there with him but instead she had said she would be the one to tell Jac. She had taken the responsibility. She felt she owed it to her, to him; knowing the secret as she did.
"He's moving department?" the consultant sounded confused, as if he mind couldn't quite understand the gravity of the situation. Jac's mind didn't seem to be able to focus correctly, nor could she understand why Mo seemed so emotional; particularly when it was she who had the additional hormones coursing through her veins. Then again Jac never did understand the relationship between Mo and Jonny and perhaps him moving away from her truly was this devastating. But in her muddled mind, Jac thought it could make things easier for her. Perhaps the pain would lessen if she didn't have to see him daily. To feel the longing for him but to pretend otherwise while her body reacted to her presence.
"Oh Jac" Mo whispered, the confusion in her normally so together colleagues eyes was a sight to behold and it tore at her a little. To know of the inner turmoil in her mind, that she had been trying so hard to keep hidden. She knew that she had caught her in a weakened moment, the stresses of the day having worn her down until she was left as she was now, though she had chosen to hide herself away rather than be seen by prying eyes. Mo knew that willingly Jac would not allow herself to be seen this way, but that behind closed doors this was probably the reality that showed as the façade fell away. "He's not moving department"
"Then what?" Jac questioned, her mind still racing but unable to settle on anything that made sense. There was no reason for Jonny to be in A he wasn't working that shift she knew that because he hadn't been present on the ward. Perhaps he was doing a bank shift down there, working to earn extra money. Perhaps Mo was telling her, so that she'd know where to find him; to tell him. Even though Mo knew she wasn't ready yet, that she needed more time.
"He's been in an accident" finally Mo responded, her voice cracking as she thought of her friend. Of the blue lighted ambulance that would have transported him here and the colleagues who would have worked on him; trying to help him, to fix him.
"But he's ok?" Jac's voice was quiet, the reality slowly sinking in that Jonny was not here working, that instead he was a patient lying on a gurney or a bed, with machines bleeping and flashing around him. She could imagine him, he would be insisting that he was fine and trying to take over. He would be showing off his knowledge; gained from being taken under the wing of the registrar. He would be running the show from his bed.
"No Jac" Mo felt the tears running down her cheeks now as she thought of her friend, "He's in a critical condition" she thought of him lying down there alone. As people buzzed around him, trying to fix him. She needed to be with him. She wanted to be with him.