"Are you sure you want to tell everyone at work?"
She raised an eyebrow at him as she gazed at him over a glass of orange juice. "I'm sure you asked me that last night."
"I did but your response was hardly coherent. As I recall it was something like 'Oh, mmm', some vague movement of your head which could have been taken either way, then you fell asleep."
"Oh ha ha." Jill said, her tone heavy with sarcasm. She rolled her eyes. "And in answer to your question, yes, I think we should. I don't see any good that could come if we don't tell them."
"True." He nodded in agreement, swallowing the last of his tea before standing up. "I'll go and start getting ready."
She nodded to him, watching his retreating back. The soft thud of items hitting the hall carpet met her ears, followed by the sound of metal meeting metal. A shuffling could be heard, then Gordon's voice nearing the kitchen. "Someone's popular! I haven't got it wrong and it's actually your birthday today is it?"
She looked at him, confused, as he entered, until he handed her a wad of envelopes, each addressed to her and handwritten. "Must be some of my many boyfriends." She grinned at him as he merely raised his eyebrows at her before once again leaving the kitchen.
Gordon heard Jill climb the stairs not long after him. From behind the partially closed door of their bedroom, he paused in buttoning his shirt as he heard her pad across the hallway and into the bathroom.
Gordon pulled the knot of his tie up to his neck, straightening it, checking his appearance one final time in the mirror before heading downstairs. He entered the kitchen and stopped at the sight that met him. Paper littered the room; envelopes scattered everywhere and cards ripped in half. He frowned, picking one up piece up. The part he held was enough to tell him the mess was justified. He sighed her name and rushed upstairs, finding her in their bedroom. She was sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him, fiercely shoving her foot into a pair of tights. Inevitably, the delicate material ripped, increasing her agitation further. "Stupid things!" She growled, balling them up and flinging them across the room. She quickly crossed to the chest of drawers, heaved it open, grabbed another pair of tights and slammed it shut before seating herself on the bed once more. She then proceeded to put them on, gentler this time, but all the same, muttering angrily about 'shoddy workmanship' and 'useless, pointless things' before falling silent.
Gordon silently crossed the room and sat behind her, not touching her, not too near, and waited. He couldn't see her face; her hair still lay naturally over her shoulders as it had when she'd woken up. All through her rant she'd interrupted herself periodically with a sniff, and he'd seen her hand travel several times to her face. With tights successfully on and in one piece, she sat still, silent except for the occasional sniffle. It was when she released a long broken breath that he moved forward, sliding his arms around her. She turned, curling her legs up onto the bed and leaned into him. One hand gripped onto his shoulder whilst the other clung to the shirt at his chest.
"I'm sorry Gordon." Her voice was muffled against his chest, her tears marring her words.
He merely held her, stroking her back, hoping his actions were soothing her. Eventually, the tears slowed, her breathing becoming more even and less ragged. He pulled back to look at her, one arm still holding her securely. He stroked her cheek before moving to toy with a strand of her hair. She smiled at him weakly then glanced down, sighed at her crumpled clothes and proceeded to straighten them as much as possible with him still holding her.
Her appearance of was only half that of professional Jill, Doctor Weatherill; fully dressed in black suit and white blouse, but with unbrushed unruly hair. He personally loved her unruly hair, especially as it was the first style he saw every morning when they awoke. He loved how only himself and the children were allowed to see her like that. And only he was allowed to touch it, which he loved doing, and which he knew relaxed her. He smiled softly, proceeding to run his hand through the dark strands as he spoke gently to her.
"I saw the cards sweetheart."
She nodded, still avoiding eye contact. She wiped a hand across her damp cheek and sniffed. After a long moment of silence, just as he was about to speak again, she began to voice her thoughts. "I should have been expecting them really. It's what people do isn't it, when people have died... Condolence cards... I should have realised really, people are bound to want to, considering you're such a wonderful man." She attempted a laugh, which fell flat.
He decided to ignore her final comment for the time being, a light-hearted comment would come later. "I think under the circumstances," He began slowly, making sure she was absorbing her words. "It's understandable. You've had so much more to think about than whether people are going to send cards." He placed a finger under her chin, gently raising her head, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Stop being so hard on yourself."
"Thank you Gordon."
"No need to thank me." He moved his hand to her cheek, beginning to brush away the tears resting on her skin as he continued to speak. "I've had a thought, now it's probably a long shot, but... I think we should have another look at those cards." He caught her anguished expression and continued quickly. "We should check if there are any from people we don't recognise. He might have sent one, to add to your suffering." There was no need to elaborate you he was. They both knew.
"It's possible." She nodded, quickly getting to her feet, taking him by surprise. She seemed to brighten a little with the idea that some good may come from the cards.
He rose. Taking her hand, stopping her just as she was about to leave the bedroom. "How about you give this wonderful man a smile." He asked, referring to her earlier uttered comment.
She acquiesced, her lips curving up. It wasn't her usual smile, but that was to be expected. She placed a hand on his cheek and leant towards him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I know you say there's no need, but still; thank you Gordon."
"What about this one?"
Jill turned her attention to the name Gordon pointed at. "Lilly Marsh... No I think she's my patient."
The ripped card was discarded and Jill pulled another towards them. They were sat in the kitchen, the table holding the torn paper. Their chairs were side by side, Jill's leg pressed against Gordon's, their heads bent, close together as they scrutinised the senders.
"Hannah Graham?" He glanced at Jill.
"Erm..." She was silent for a moment, turning the name over in her mind. "I don't recognise the name."
"Well we'll have a look at the patient files at work."
She nodded, putting it to one side. The last two cards were both from Gordon's patients. She drew all the cards into a pile, leaving the one from Hannah Graham on the side, and spent a little longer than was necessary straightening them into a neat pile. She placed them deliberately carefully upon the table. As she did so she caught sight of Gordon's watch. Immediately, she shot up from her chair, pushing it backwards with a scrape on the tiled floor, allowing her room to dash past Gordon and out of the room.
Gordon stared after her for a second, a little bewildered, before, following her, concerned that she was upset about the cards again. "Jill?" He called, rounding the door to their bedroom, stopping short at the sight before him.
Jill stood in front of their mirror, frantically brushing her hair back behind her head into a ponytail, clip in mouth whilst trying to open her drawer with her foot. He laughed, bending down and opening the drawer for her, revealing her make-up. He received a grunt in response. She bent around him, sliding the hair piece into place and clicking it around her ponytail, before grabbing various items from the drawer.
"Erm... Jill?" He looked at her raising his eyebrow and smirking with amusement.
"Have you not seen the time Gordon? We're going to be late for the staff meeting!"
He smirked again at the high pitched panic in her voice. The smile was quickly wiped from his face with a glance at his watch. They had five minutes to get to The Royal. Even he wouldn't be able to make it, despite all he needed to do was put on his shoes and grab his coat and doctor's bag. Jill was rushing her make-up, frequently cursing as she smudged this or streaked that.
"You know you could always go without make-up, you don't need it." He ventured, knowing very well what her answer would be.
She paused briefly to look at him, turning back to the mirror as she replied. "Thank you love, but no. There is no way I'm going into work like this. I might as well go in naked!"
He coughed. "Slight exaggeration I think darling."
She grinned at him, moments later throwing down her lipstick. "I'm done. Go go go!" She dashed out the room, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the stairs.
