Thanks for all the encouragement for Ch 1. Hope this second installment doesn't disappoint.
Harry sat in the hospital waiting room, waiting to hear anything about Ruth's condition. She'd been alive when the helicopter landed, but further than that he had no idea. Beyond washing his hands, he'd done nothing else since arriving at the hospital but wait. He hadn't been allowed in the helicopter, not enough room with the paramedics working, so he'd driven to St Mary's hospital, breaking multiple speed limits on the way. His driving had been so erratic by stress and worry that Erin had asked if she could take over and drive. Of course he'd said no.
So now he sat, waiting for news. There was a strong possibility Ruth could be dead right now. He might never see her again. The last thing she'd said was that she loved him. And he, being too thrown by the shock of her pregnancy didn't have his wits around him long enough to say it back. Of course he loved her. Of course he did, pregnancy aside. Whose baby is it? In no way could it be his, he'd never slept with Ruth. No matter how much his body and soul longed to. She had to get through this. They had to have more time. This couldn't be it. How could they have wasted so much time? It was so stupid of them both.
He looked at his hands. The nails were still rimmed with red. Ruth's blood. Please don't let that be the last time I touch her, he thought. He had to have been sitting here waiting for news for hours. Would someone hurry up and give him some news?
"Mr Pearce?"
"Yes," he said, standing up. The doctor wore scrubs and indicated for him to follow him, which he did, just a few paces down the hall, out of the waiting room.
"How is she?" Harry asked desperately.
"We've had to operate on Miss Evershed's lung, but we've repaired the damage and… given a bit of time, she should make a full recovery.
"Full recovery?" he asked. "The baby?"
"Every surgery is risky for a foetus this young, but we did all we could and there's nothing to alarm us at this stage. We'll obviously monitor the baby, but everything should go smoothly with the pregnancy."
"How old… I mean, how far along in the pregnancy is she?" The doctor frowned for a moment, not answering. "She didn't tell me she was pregnant until she was stabbed," Harry added. "I just wondered."
"The foetus looks about nine weeks," he said. "Would you like to see her?"
"Very much." Harry followed the doctor and soon enough he was sat by Ruth's bedside. She was unconscious, a mask over her face presumably giving her oxygen.
"How long?" he asked the doctor, his eyes still on Ruth. "Until she wakes up?"
"At least a couple of hours, but anything up to a full twenty four hours is possible. It all depends on her."
"Okay, thank you," Harry said. Soon he was left alone with her, and he grasped her hand tightly, stroking her skin gently. "You know, there could have been a thousand other times you could have told me you were pregnant with another mans child. Why do it when you were losing consciousness? I can't ask anything now." He sighed and closed his eyes. "But none of that matters right now. I just need you to be okay. To open your beautiful eyes and look at me. And I'm not leaving you until you do, okay?" He squeezed her palm and watched her sleep.
Harry woke up with a start as the door opened and a machine was wheeled in. "What…?" he asked, not yet awake enough to form sentences.
"We just need to check the baby," a female doctor he hadn't seen before said. "As Ruth hasn't woken up yet, we're just taking extra precautions. You're welcome to stay." Harry had absolutely not intention of leaving her, whether he was allowed here or not.
He watched as the doctor wheeled the machine in and started setting it up, trying to shake off sleep and mentally prepare himself for what he was about to see. He couldn't lie to himself, he had daydreamed and fantasised about Ruth being pregnant, but when they had a scan, she was firstly conscious, and secondly the child was always his. The reality was so much of a let down.
He averted his eyes when the doctor rearranged Ruth's hospital gown, not wanting to invade her privacy. He didn't look at her again until he heard beeping from the machine. Ruth's stomach was exposed and the doctor had the ultrasound machine on her skin. The minutes crawled by and nothing was showing on the screen.
"Is there a problem?" Harry asked calmly.
"No. The foetus is only about an inch big at this stage, it just can take a while to find, that's all." Harry stayed quiet as the doctor worked. He'd been to several ultrasounds with his two children, but none quite like this. He still had a tight grip on Ruth's hand when the rapid heart beat filled the room. Harry had no reaction, beyond saying, "is everything all right?"
"Yes," the doctor said, smiling. "I just had to check."
"Is that it?" he asked quietly, looking at the screen. "It's tiny."
"Yes, normally we wouldn't do a scan until twelve weeks, but yes."
"Can you…" Harry swallowed hard and looked away from the screen. Still looking at their joined hands, he continued. "Can you print a picture? Ruth will want to see."
"Of course." He looked away as the doctor fiddled with the machine, surprised by the surge of jealousy he felt. He was insanely jealous that Ruth was pregnant by someone else. How could there possibly be any hope for them after this?
Harry kept thinking over that until the doctor left, leaving him and Ruth alone. The picture of the baby was resting on Ruth's bedside table, the other side to Harry. Which was good because Harry didn't think he could bring himself to look at it.
More soon, probably after the weekend.