Chapter Four
1997
Gene opened one eye and stared at the unfeasibly bright sofas on the TV.
"Good morning and welcome to GMTV!" some presenter who was made up of 80% grin and 20% cheese told him.
"Bugger off, it's too early for that," he told her and switched off the TV with extreme prejudice.
He'd fallen sleep with the TV on in the hope that something else might come through at some point. So far, nothing. It had been a strange night all in all. He'd taken one look at the bedroom and decided the couch was a better option. It might have had a different bed and different décor but it was still the room he was used to sharing with Alex; stealing the covers, getting an elbow in the rib for snoring, feeling her warm body beside him on cold winter nights. He couldn't have slept in there without her.
Besides, he didn't like the thought of sleeping in a room designed for a nerd. There were too many X-Files magazines and Red Dwarf posters around for his liking. He would have had nightmares about polymorphs and UFOs within moment of falling asleep. He was slightly annoyed that Robin's bed seemed bigger and more comfortable than the one he had in storage and wondered why he deserved the luxury of such a comfy place to sleep. Maybe it was bigger in case one of those damn dogs followed him home and curled up on the end of it?
That wasn't the only thing that Robin had been gifted either. He had a far better kitchen. He supposed that he deserved it, since cooking was his main hobby, apart apparently from drumming on small tins of beans, but Gene was slightly annoyed to find the kitchen stocked from wall to wall with fine ingredients that he supposed he'd have to send round to Robin, lest them go to waste. There wasn't a single tin of tuna or a packet of digestive biscuits amongst them.
He'd finally fallen asleep on the couch at some ridiculous hour after watching an endless stream of crap in the hope that he might catch a glimpse of Alex again. He'd watched so many infomercials for mops playing after closedown on the cable channels that he was developing a strong urge to go and clean the kitchen floor. Eventually he'd fallen asleep with ITV on in the background and had awoken to the Sofas From Hell.
He stared at the notebook on the table.
"I have officially turned into Bols," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes, "Need to check me vital statistics and see if I need a bloody bra an' all."
He grabbed the notebook and trudged to the kitchen to see if Robin's many ingredients included something that would go well in a pan full of lard before being placed between two slices of bread. He might not have been drinking much the night before but writing lists had given him a logic hangover.
~xXx~
Pregnant Robin: An Opera In Six Acts
SCENE ONE
Fenchurch East Police Station, 2011. A young gentleman walks sadly through the corridor as a crowd of uniformed officers point, whisper and laugh. The young man has a large, round stomach which he rubs tenderly.
ROBIN:
Oh life is hard
For the pregnant man
When all you yearn for
Comes in a can…
(Large foam tin of beans enters, stage right)
ROBIN:
No one can try
To understand
This wasn't quite
The way round we planned…
(Large foam tin of beans begins to chase pregnant man from stage)
~X~
Robin woke with a start and a scream. He tumbled off the couch, landed heavily on the floor and spent several moments trying to work out who he was and what was going on.
"Oh god," he groaned, rubbing his eyes to try to clear away the terrible nightmare he'd been through.
It had been going on all night; an opera in 6 acts starring him as the world's first pregnant male chief inspector and his struggle to be accepted in society. He'd managed to get through over 4 of the 6 acts before he finally managed to wake himself up and pull himself from the terrible nightmare. Try as he might, he couldn't manage to get the labour scene out of his mind. He was going to be forever terrified of the word 'stirrup' too, especially with the intangible rhymes the opera had come up with for the word.
"Shit," he mumbled as he pulled himself back onto the couch. He thought about the cause of his nightmare and the mixed blessings around it. Things made more sense now, in a way. The ridiculous weeks of believing he was suffering from some kind of psychological issue, a hysterical pregnancy, and it turned out that the cause was a little closer to home. Oh, he couldn't understand why he had been the one suffering the symptoms instead but he did know it wasn't unheard of. He'd run into the concept of sympathetic pregnancy while trying to find out why he was suffering morning sickness and swollen ankles, but since Kim hadn't had any symptom herself and didn't think she was expecting it hadn't been a consideration.
"All those fucking beans," he groaned, remembering the endless cans still stacked up back in 2012. He couldn't even face the thought of them now. Why had all his symptoms disappeared when he entered Gene's world? Was it because he was too far away from Kim? Or because she'd found out that she, rather than he, was the one with the baby growing inside them? Either way, he hoped and prayed that Kim was alright and coping. He just wanted to be there with her, to look after her, make sure she and the baby were alright. Instead he couldn't have been stuck further away.
For the first time since he arrived he was at least able to don fresh clothes. That would teach the stupid, foot-obsessed dog. The flat was quiet, as once again Simon has slipped out early to avoid anther confrontation. Robin had a feeling they would need to talk later on. The avoidance couldn't go on forever.
~xXx~
2012
Oh god, everything hurt. There wasn't an inch that didn't seem to be bruised or scrazed. Kim tried to open her eyes but there was a bright light that forced them closed again.
"Kim?"
OK, someone was saying her name. She should probably make more of an effort to open her damn eyes then. She tried again, just a little way, and looked around. She could hear bleeping and other miscellaneous noises that gave away the fact she was in a hospital room.
"Shit," she mumbled, finally allowing some of the room to come into view, "What happened?" she could make out a face in front of her. "Ma'am?"
"Yes, Kim," Alex's voice was calm and relaxing, "you're alright. You were hit by a car, you've got some injuries to your ribs but you're going to be fine."
"Car?" Kim repeated, "What-" she paused as memories of the gunshot came back to her, "Oh god, the jewellery shop… Rob… Is he alright?"
Alex did her best to avoid answering that.
"Just stay nice and calm, Kim," she said soothingly, "the doctors will be along to talk to you soon."
"Where's Robin?" Kim asked again. She looked at Alex with wide, scared eyes, "come on, Ma'am, don't bullshit me. If the shot was fired at him I need to know."
Alex swallowed. She couldn't keep it from Kim. If it had been Gene who'd taken a bullet she'd have wanted to know.
"Listen," she said quietly, "Robin was shot. But they were able to revive him at the scene and they're working on stabilizing him right now so that they can operate to remove the bullet and repair the damage."
Kim swallowed, nauseous and anxious.
"When can I see him?" she asked, trying to sit up.
"No, Kim, just stay still and calm," Alex told her, holding her down gently with one hand.
"Why?" Kim frowned, "where is he? Can I see him before surgery?"
"Kim, he's in intensive care and it's not possible for you to see him yet," Alex said calmly, "besides, the doctors need to see you."
"I'm fine," Kim blatantly lied as shuffling a little sent shockwaves of pain through her chest.
"See?" Alex admonished, "Stay where you are, stay still and relax, they'll be here soon."
"Will you stop telling me to stay still and calm?" Kim frowned, "what's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Something is," Kim said crossly, "I told you not to bullshit me." she paused. "Is it Robin? There's something you're not telling me." she paused. "Or is it about me? There's something wrong?" her attention was caught by a woman wheeling in a strange machine on a trolley. "What's going on? Why are they bringing a telly in here?"
"Kim," Alex said quietly, "it's not a telly, just let them do their job. They just need to check you over."
"For what?" Kim asked, her voice becoming quieter and more anxious. The polite, friendly but silent smile of the lady wheeling the strange-looking TV towards her did little to calm her nerves. A second woman entered with some notes.
"Kimberley Stringer?" she asked.
"Kim," said Kim. She couldn't stand the name Kimberley since Keats had insistently used it over and over."
"Kim, how are you feeling?" the woman asked.
"I…" Kim frowned, "I feel probably like anyone would when they've been hit by a car. That's a stupid question," she paused and frowned, "What's going on?"
"We just need to check you over," the woman told her.
"See?" Alex added as though her point had been confirmed.
"But what –" Kim trailed away as her level of confusion heightened. The woman lowered her sheet and pulled up her smock, exposing her stomach before getting out a bottle of gel. While inside Kim knew what was happening the fact that it was happening to her simply confused her so deeply that she lost the ability to speak, and for Kim that was unheard of. She couldn't understand why they were coming at her with an ultrasound wand. This hadn't been done to her since she was 20 weeks pregnant with her second son. What was wrong, did she have some internal injuries? Was something bleeding in there? Oh god, was she about to snuff it?
"There," the second woman pointed to something on the screen to show the first lady, "Looks healthy."
"What does?" Kim demanded, glad that at the very least the news sounded positive.
The two women seemed oblivious.
"Eight weeks?" the first woman asked.
The second shook her head.
"Check the measurements," she said, "I'd say nine."
"This had better not be how many weeks I've got to live," Kim looked at Alex in alarm.
The second woman pointed to an area on the screen.
"Look," she said.
The first woman nodded.
"Yup, I see it," she said.
"We'll keep a close watch on it," the second said.
Kim closed her eyes.
"If someone doesn't start talking to me right now I am going to find the fullest bedpan in the hospital and empty it over both your heads," she cried.
The two women looked up a little nervously. While the first began to clean up Kim's stomach the second pulled a chair closer to the bed and started talking to her.
"I'm sorry about that," she said, "we needed to check on you. You've had some bleeding since the accident."
"What bleeding? Where?" Kim started to check herself over, "am I haemorrhaging or something?"
"Some bleeding from your uterus," The woman explained.
Kim went very quiet.
"Go on," she whispered.
"When you were brought in there were a series of X-rays taken to make sure that there was no damage to your spine and to check for broken bones," the woman explained, "because of the radiation, you were tested as a precaution for pregnancy, and the test came back positive." She paused to study Kim's expression, "Is this a surprise to you?"
Kim just stared. Anything after the word 'positive' had just been lost on her. In fact, everything around her lost meaning. Words, sounds, sights – she couldn't focus on anything but that one word.
Positive.
Her eyes were wide and her mouth went dry. She swallowed several times, trying to regain the power of speech but her mind had gone into a daze.
"I," she whispered. She closed her eyes and licked her dry lips, "I haven't…. I've had no signs, I –"
"Well, it's not usual not to get symptoms until later on," the woman told her, "some women never really get many signs until they're a fair way in."
"But… but you don't understand," Kim said frantically, "I get morning sickness worse than Evan gets beard rash. Every time I've been pregnant I spend all day trapped in the bathroom. "
"Have you missed your period?"
"Well, yes," Kim frowned, "but I'm not exactly regular," she flushed bright pink. She didn't like talking about this kind of thing especially with medical professionals.
"You're about nine weeks pregnant, Kim," the woman told her gently.
"Nine weeks?" Kim cried. Her mouth fell open and she shook her head, "I'd have known. I can't be nine weeks."
The first woman carefully tore a picture from the strip she'd printed out and handed it to Kim.
"There's your baby," she said quietly.
Kim stared at the picture, holding the paper as though it might crumble in her grasp. She found herself shaking slightly as she focused on the black and white image. She felt disjointed from it, as though she couldn't believe what she was being shown. With a tremble in her voice she asked quietly,
"Is… is it alright?"
"The baby is looking very healthy right now," the woman told her.
"But you said there was bleeding?" Kim whispered.
"The scan has shown up a blood clot outside the sac," the woman told her, "we'll need to keep an eye on it, but the sac and the baby themselves are looking good and strong."
Kim felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped at the gesture. She looked up to see Alex looking at her with concern.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Kim looked back at the picture.
"I... I don't know," she whispered, "I'm just… just shocked," her mind was spinning in circles. She couldn't focus on what was happening. It all felt a little surreal and she wasn't convinced that she wasn't unconscious and dreaming.
"Kim?" Once again Alex's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Kim looked up at her, her eyes full of shock and confusion, "congratulations."
Despite the terrible circumstances surrounding the discovery and the shock that Kim would be facing for some time as she tried to let the news sink in Alex knew how badly Kim had wanted this and didn't want her good news to be overshadowed by negativity. The warm smile she gave brought Kim's focus back to the positive – that the baby was healthy, that despite the accident the new life growing inside her was fighting hard and that the one thing she'd been wishing for had come true. She stared at the picture once again and felt butterflies filling her tummy and her heart. Out of the darkness a tiny light had appeared at the end of the tunnel. She just had to hope and pray that it would grow brighter from thereon in.
~xXx~
1997
Barely more than a kid, the young man handed over a bundle of notes and Arthur Layton flipped through them quickly. They were all there.
"Good," he said, "fantastic job tonight. You want to step up and take on a bit more, we'll talk about it tomorrow."
The kid gave a smug smile and nodded.
"Cheers," he said.
"Now get lost before anyone comes round," Layton told him, "I've seen the filth stepping up their stuff around this area. We might have to look at a new patch."
The kid nodded and hurried away, full of excitement about his future dealings with the man who would be Nailer's successor. He slipped his hand in his pocket and felt around for the small treat he'd kept back; the sample that he felt he deserved at the end of a long night. He'd been working all night long, now all he wanted was to go home, try out the goods for himself and sleep the day away.
X
An hour later, the boy was dead.
So were three other members of the Fenchurch community.
~x~
#...In a way, it's all a matter of time
I will not worry for you, you'll be just fine
Take my thoughts with you, and when you look behind
You will surely see a face that you recognize
You're not alone, i'll wait till the end of time
Open your mind, surely it's plain to see
You're not alone, i'll wait till the end of time for you
Open your mind, surely there's time to be with me
It is the distance, that makes life a little hard
Two minds that once were close, now so many miles apart
I will not falter though, i'll hold on till you're home
Safely back where you belong, and see how our love has grown
You're not alone, i'll wait till the end of time
Open your mind, surely it's plain to see
You're not alone, i'll wait till the end of time for you
Open your mind, surely there's time to be with me…#
You're not alone - olive
~xXx~
A/N: Bollocks, I am actually wearing out my new keyboard that I got to replace the one on my laptop that, erm, I wore out :-/ So please forgive the increasing number of errors, I've had enough of the keys failing to work so I'm going to get another new one tomorrow!
Thank you to everyone who has joined the new story and I hope you will enjoy the journey – Although it will of course have its dark patches I hope that the (ridiculous) humour will lighten them and the story isn't all dark, I promise! Currently accepting food and sympathy parcels for Simon, please no toasters, he can't face any more of those… (I promise things will get better for him!)