This wasn't intended to turn out like this but it refused to be written any other way
8.
"Thank you for coming in like that," Ric smiled, perching on his desk chair. Rather her old desk chair, the room was exactly the same, the walls the maroon colour, spaced by the decorative modern wall paper, the furniture only slightly different, her clock gone, replaced by a cheap white job, courtesy of the NHS. Her computer still there, the sofa a different ware of leather, his evidentially more comfortable than hers, intentional, she refused to have relatives outstay their welcome. The general atmosphere however was pretty similar, with the ambient lights dimmed and the blinds drawn it became cocoon like, a place where she could escape, in someone's arms or not, it added up to the same thing, a place, similar to home that she could vent her anger, frustrations, anger or angst, happiness, vent her person, the actual human that resided within her, locked tightly in place by the fronts acting like defence barriers, breaking the force of the sea coming in, protecting her inner self, an instinctive emotion heightened by her work, her past, her life now.
"It's nice to be back in here, it holds good memories, the bad too but I feel safe here," Connie mused, her gaze fixated on the clear liquid in the glass, taking her mind of the memory of Will flooding her mind, the moment she'd informed Susan had been one of her lowest ebbs, sinking the wallowing feeling of self pity to near to hell.
"Ahh so the great Mrs Beauchamp felt safe here, it all comes out of the woodwork now," Ric joked lightly, the corners of his mouth falling as her face contorted in disagreement, his comment dissolving several barriers in one acidic hit.
"Not funny Ric, you know my reasoning for sticking around here, Michael lived at the house too y'know, at least here I had some iota of control," her voice was stony cold, brisk unlike the feeling it left her, a deep scar persistent in never healing, so long as Michael stuck around, salt grating it until Ric had come, licking the wound clean so to speak, giving it time to heal, the space to breath, the affection to love.
"Point taken Connie," he muttered remorsefully, moving over to her fragile stance at the meeting table, placing his hands on her shoulders, directing them towards the sofa, taking them down as he sat beside her, replacing the glass of water with whisky, not her normal tipple but medicine for the soul none the less.
"Thank you," she smiled, giving him a fake pretence that she was holding up, he wasn't normally one to ignore it, she knew full well that he was the intuitive teacher who kept the quiet intriguing pupil behind to understand the façade, today however he was willing to ignore it, let her come to him.
"See if it will loosen you up a bit" he commented dryly, his fingers unconsciously running through the soft tendrils of baby hair at the nape of her neck.
"I don't need loosening up Ric," she protested, sipping on the amber liquid with remarkable ease, her hand dipping into the pocket of her trousers, producing a pack of crumpled looking cigarettes of a more expensive brand than his normal choice.
"Connie, it's a hospital we can't smoke here," he protested as she moved forward on the sofa, bringing a cigarette to her mouth, toying with it as she brought the lighter out.
"You own the place Ric, so stop me," the puff of smoke to his face saw rights to any idea of halting her, it was as if the sullen pupil was bringing about an identity, taking a chance to rebel, stick two fingers up to the life. Release.
"Well if I can't beat you, I'll join you," Ric smiled, accepting the invitation, sidling over to the window and pushing it aloft, in a vain attempt to disguise the hideous smell already filling the room.
"See not even you can resist," she smiled coyly, standing up and crossing the room, shivering slightly in the breeze entering the room, piercing her shirt, sharpening the goose pimples lining her body, trailing down her back, surrounding her front in an encapsulating grasp.
"Resistance is the hardest emotion to defy," he mused lightly, flicking the remaining ash out of the window, dragging on the butt one last time before he stubbed it out and turned to face Connie. "You know if you want your job back I'd be glad to abdicate, if I'm honest I hate it," he watch her toy with a smile, unsure of whether to run with it or not.
"You would do that for me," she stated clearly, voicing her pleasure at being given the chance to regain the pleasurable control she'd been given in Holby, her small empire to maintain and rule over, London a dent on the thrills she had in Holby.
"It would be absolutely no trouble at all," Ric smiled, teasing an arm round her waist, lingering till she finished smoking before leaning forward, berating a kiss on her neck, drinking in the complex smell of hospital, perfume, smoke, a day's work, emotion. It was amusement enough for him, to ponder over what she'd been thinking about, it could entertain him for all eternity, her book was comparable to classic, confusing to read with modern day English yet entertaining in a satisfying wholesome way.
"Why not go home?" Connie quizzed, her own arms receding round his waist, snaking a gentle pattern on his back.
"Because here its more thrilling,"
"What the chance of getting caught, I don't want to appear hypocritical to the staff" Connie protested, denying her urge to lurch forward for his lips, toying with her lip instead, giving him a dignified smile, the enticing undeceive one that wriggled her out of uncompromising positions.
"Chrissie the resident bike hardly counts for anything Connie," Ric retorted coolly.
"That bike saw fit for Michael to run to London, her seeing us together will only give her a chance to fan the flames of our marriage,"
"Come off it, who gives a toss about us, Michael is just a spear in this relationship, we have something you two never had," his voice begun heavy, patient he may be but her insecurities about Michael were ridiculous. By his reckoning the only way through the un-penetrative mind of Michael would be to get him back, an eye for an eye, his feelings for Connie were more than friendship, the worry when she was in London seeing put to a few grey hairs, the sadness in her eyes upon her uneasy return breaking his heart, the feeling of satisfying her once again repairing the damage.
"I give a toss Ric, he's my husband" Connie sighed, pulling further out of their embrace, stalking to the opposite side of the room, taking an un-keen interest in the picture adorning the maroon wall.
"But he torments you" Ric replied, raising his voice slightly, leaving his drink on the desk, moving into Connie's comfort zone, pausing six feet from her vehement stance.
"Yes but he's my husband, why do you make me do this Ric, why the hell do you make me choose all the time?"
"I do nothing of the sort, Connie you are free to choose,"
"But in London all I did was compare you to him Ric, every little thing he did was compared to you, I had you on the brain, Ric, and now well it's the opposite, now I can't stop thinking about Michael, feeling guilty about being here and not with him, disappointed in him, angry with him, like him, shit why do you do this Ric, why?" Ric was glad of the distance between them, at least now he was missing the vicious combination of her glare and pointing finger, admiring the fiery temperament with pleasure of knowing its appearance intimately.
"Connie calm down,"
"No I will not calm down," her power speech was interrupted, the sound of William Tell ringing out in the office, polyphonic in tone and register, the slime black phone whipped out of her pocket in an instant, puzzlement crossing her face as she took the call "Michael" Ric's face sank parallel with hers, stepping forward he was met by a hand. "New one to me, she never had MRSA" as she paused her hand fell, immediately drawn to her forehead, a pensive rubbing motion ensuing, "no, Michael, I'm not coming back to London, I thought my midnight flit would have made you understand, no you listen, sod the flaming hospital, don't you dare, don't you even think about pulling rank on me" after a momentary blip the final sentence came along the lines of "Fine" with the phone being slung back into her pocket in one swift move.
"Michael wants me back in London for a board meeting about a patient of mine who supposedly had MRSA now can you get me back to your flat so I can pack my things"
"Connie you cannot be serious about going back, they can manage without you surely," his protestations were unheard over her motions to leave the room, his suit jacket thrust to his hand.
"Ric, listen the patient in question had CF, I'd treated her for nearly 18 years, I'm not about to let her down at the final hurdle, leave it out ok,"
"Connie I admire your loyalty but please he's just going to get up to his usual tricks, don't go, not like this," sounding positively weak she ignored him and lifted her keys from the hook, leaving the room with her bitch strut and slammed the door behind her.
"Fine" Ric sighed, returning to his drink, going after her now would be ludicrous, so about turn, grabbing his coat he left the office in the darkness it bathed in.