Chapter 26 – where the honeymoon period ends, and real life and love begins.
I felt it was time for the unbridled joy to end, and for the issue of Clair to be dealt with. By having Clair as a character (if a kind of Rebbecca-ish one) who is conspicuous by her absence I kind of made my job a little harder. I made her so nice, and Patrick so in love with her that she just kept on cropping up, which is great for background and storylines, and is true to life – I kind of hope that real life widows who re-marry mention their ex's a little less frequently than my Dr Turner does! So – so she must be dealt with – not too harshly I hope, but I wanted a bit of a line drawn under her, they're married and settled and it's time for a new chapter for Patrick I think!
Thanks for all the brilliant reviews, they are lovely to hear and it's great to hear that people are still starting the story now – 25 chapters in – and getting hooked! I write for you guys so please do tell me what you think, because it's so much fun to hear your opinions!
This chapters song is:
She will be loved – Maroon 5
Enjoy
Beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some trouble with herself. He was always there to help her, she always belonged to someone else. I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door, I've had you so many times, but somehow I want more.
"Shelagh?"
"Mmm?"
"Shelagh?" Roused from her typing, Shelagh looked up over the nurse's station to see who was interrupting her, the dark haired head of Dr Miroslav Petrović smiling down at her.
"Oh hi, sorry Miroslav, world of my own. How's things?"
"Yes I'm fine, I'm fine."
"Cynthia isn't on duty today …"
"Yes I know … I wanted to ask a favour of you actually."
"Oh – right. Uhh, come along to the staff room. What is it?" She asked, standing up and walking around to the ajar door of the staff room.
"I wanted your advice … you're married aren't you?"
"Yeah – I think so, I mean I had a wedding so I guess I'm married yeah … Sorry I'm teasing, go on."
"So you know about … being romantic? Because I wanted to ask Cynthia away – for a weekend away you know?"
"Oh Miroslav, that's adorable! I think that that's such a sweet idea – where were you thinking of taking her?"
"I don't know … that's what I wanted to ask you."
"Oh umm – well why don't I sound her out? I'm on with her tomorrow – so I could get an idea of where she'd want to go?"
"That would be wonderful – thank you! I need to run, I'm officially hunting down some x-rays."
"Naughty! Right – well I'll text you tomorrow when I know a bit more OK?"
"You are a star, thank you again." Shelagh smiled at her friend as he jogged quickly out of the ward, she was happy for Cynthia, she needed a bit more fun in her life – and if nothing else, Miroslav was fun and very sweet. She turned around to flick on the kettle, hoping her typing would wait, she heard the door grind open further and someone behind her cleared their throat.
"It's uhh … Shelagh isn't it?" Turning back to face the door, Shelagh was faced with the annoyingly preened face of Dr Lila Morgan.
"Oh … it is, yes – Dr Morgan, yes."
"How are you?"
"Uh … fine … did you want coffee or …?"
"No no, no thank you – I uh I only drink fresh ground … actually."
"Of course you do ... well tea? Or do you only drink loose leaf?"
"Mmm – no no, I do drink teabags – but I'll pass all the same thanks. I wanted to ask you about the Bennington Palmer dinner."
"The … sorry you've lost me."
"The Bennington Palmer dinner? The pharmaceutical company dinner … next week? Patr – I mean Dr Turner's invited … I assumed that you'd be going?"
"He hasn't mentioned it – but I'll be honest it doesn't really sound like his scene."
"Oh he's definitely going, he was talking about it yesterday. But I suppose it'd be hard, I mean he went with his wife before of course, Daddy remembers Mrs Turner very well. He always says how charming she was – ha – I remember him always saying that she was a real doctor's wife, glamorous, charming, the perfect dinner date. I was just going to say – you know, if it isn't really your … type of evening, I'd be happy to take your slot."
"I … uh … you know I have some typing to do … sorry."
"Shealgh! …. Shealagh!..."
"Yeah!"
"Shelagh!... Shelagh!..."
"What?!"
"Shelagh!"
"What the hell do you want!?"
"Why didn't you reply?"
"I did – both times – what are you after?"
"Sorry I couldn't hear you from downstairs, Corrie's started."
"Oh it's alright I'm going for a run, I'll watch it on catch up."
"But it's freezing – and you only just got in."
"I feel awful."
"Why – what's wrong love?"
"Nothing – I just feel a bit crappy. I just want to run it off and get to bed … sorry."
"Why are you sorry?"
"Sorry."
"Are you sure you're alright Shelagh, you look done in."
"Christ Patrick – I'm fine. Not that you'd know – what with your nice 8 hour shifts – it's actually pretty tiring with my 12 and half hour shifts, trying to run one unit two days a week, while working in another for one and a half bloody days a week. And you know it would be fantastic if just once in a while when I get home at the end of the day if I didn't have to clean up after you and Tim and cook tea and put a wash on!"
"Shelagh, what is this? I bloody cook whenever I'm on an early, and if you really give such a damn about the cleaning then get Tim onto it! Marry me, and you get a teenage son – I assumed that you understood that … and you know what might help – is if you weren't off for your runs all the time."
"It's what I do! I run – it relaxes me before I have to come home to your house, with your son keeping the place in an absolute shit-tip. I knew I was marrying a man with a teenage son – but I didn't realise that the minute I signed my name on the dotted line he became entirely my responsibility!"
"No – he became ours, because you know what – that's what happens when you get married you bloody share stuff! If your that tired – why don't you jack it in at the unit eh? Because you were never this bloody difficult when we were both on there!"
"What and spend all day every bloody day with you – no way in hell! It'd drive me mad, why do you think I was so keen to take the unit in the first place! … Shit … I'm going out."
"No … don't … I need some air." Pushing past her out of the front door Patrick left the house, leaving Shelagh stood in the hallway, she shut her eyes tightly and wished that she could swallow her words and push them back as if they had never been said. There was a crunch at the top of the stairs, turning her head quickly to catch a glimpse of a pair of jeans slipping around the corner,
"Tim?"she called. After a moment's pause, a pair of socks emerged down the stairs, attached to Tim's legs, before being followed the sheepish face of an evesdropper. "Hi … you alright?"
"Yeah … sorry … I didn't mean to listen."
"It's fine … we were being a bit loud … or I was."
"Mmm."
"It's fine though don't worry – standard row, nothing for the papers to know …"
"… mmm … sorry."
"What for Tim?"
"Stuff … like … what you were arguing about … and stuff."
"Oh Tim! No – don't … I was just having a moment. You're not even that messy – I promise!"
"I'm just tired, and … short fuse … and … I don't know. Stuff."
"Sorry though."
"It's alright, honestly. Although … you know if you're feeling particularly contrite – then, feel free to do some hoovering!"
*Are you in the house? P*
*Yeah – why? S*
*Locked out – can you let me in? P*
Getting out of bed slowly, Shelagh pulled on her cardigan and carefully walked downstairs. From the darkened hallway she could see Patrick's outline against the streetlights, she had to let him in, but she almost wished she didn't – it would all be so much easier if he hadn't of forgotten his keys. Opening the door, Patrick was stood in the porch, the contents of his pockets cradled in his hands after searching in vain for his keys,
"Sorry – I didn't know if you were in." he said slowly.
"Of course I was … I didn't want to leave Tim."
"Mmm … right."
"Tea?"
"Please. So … did you watch Coronation Street in the end? Anything happen?"
"Uh yeah I did … Christian rang Hayley and … umm … Stella's selling the Rovers,I think that's probably it."
"Mmm – well at least I'm up to speed now … that's me sorted for tomorrow now."
"… Where did you go?"
"Brothel – had brilliant sex with a 20 year old Polish girl and then had a cup of tea … I went to the pub … and then felt like a complete prat and an arse and then I was pissed off that I felt like an arse when I thought you were being the … pillock and then I just got tired and decided to come home …"
"Good call … sorry."
"It's alright … you're probably right anyway."
"I was still a cow."
"Yeah you were … but then I was a bit of a prick too …"
"Yeah you were."
"Don't deny it or anything will you."
"Oh don't start again."
"Start? I'm not bloody starting anything! It's you who's at me the whole time."
"I'm tired -"
"I fell in love with you because you were the kindest sweetest woman in the world, who would do anything for anyone -"
"Oh so what? This was all a massive mistake was it then, marrying me?! Because this is what life's like with someone you know Patrick! You love them to pieces and you also want to smash their face through a plate glass window on occasion – GET USED TO IT!"
"Oh thank you oh …. Marriage oracle! I have been married before – remember?!"
"Oh I do remember – how could I forget your bloody perfect Clair? Love of your life, and goddess … how could I ever compare?"
"What! Shelagh … I … what!?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Love, it does. It does matter. What's wrong?" Taking a step forward, Patrick laid a hand on her arm – she had shrank down to face the floor and avoided his eyes with determination. Trying to swallow back the tears that were threatening to bubble over she took a shaky breath.
"Why … why didn't you tell me about that pharmaceutical dinner?"
"What?"
"The Benetton thingy."
"Oh – Bennington Palmer! Well I, I don't know Love. It's a really dull night of people talking about drugs, I hate it – I didn't think you'd want to go. I mean they only ever send me one ticket anyway, and I thought … why, do you want to go?"
"You used take Clair because she was good at being a doctor's wife … the perfect doctor's wife."
"Who told you that?"
"Lila."
"What! Oh Love … that, is, utter, bollocks! Clair came because she went along with me once – when we were newlyweds and met a couple of other wives who had to go along every year. She didn't go along for me; she went along because these four women all went along to keep each other sane! And once we'd had Tim she stopped going all together. Shelagh, I rarely go … I'm only going this year because of a friend of mine's giving a speech and I said I'd be a mate and give him a friendly face in the audience."
"So … you didn't take her because she was glamorous … and charming?"
"Oh God you daft thing! No. I didn't. Shelagh I don't ever want you to think that you are in any way in competition with Clair, she was a wonderful woman and so are you. You're brilliant and if you want to go I'll get an extra ticket of course but … I'm not not taking you because you're … not as good a wife or as suitable a wife as Clair. You're so … so wonderful and I can't believe that I've managed to get you … because you're the most amazing thing that's happened to me in such a long time Shelagh. And I don't think you know that."
"You really should tell me more often."
"Well – I don't want you getting all egotistical now do I!"
"That was such a lovely thing to say."
"That I don't want you to get smug?"
"No – the other bit … it was lovely. Thank you, and I'm sorry … for being a cow, and a bitch, and a bit mental."
"Yeah you were a bit mental and a bit of a bitch … and a cow. But, on reflection, I feel it was kind of justified. You ignore bloody Lila Morgan from now on alright – she's a little daddy's girl, rich, manipulative and used to getting her own way, far too used to it!"
"Can we have her killed?"
"Oh of course Love, if that's what you want I'll fetch the blunderbuss!"
"Blunderbuss? Your weapon of choice is a blunderbuss?"
"Uh yeah … why not!"
"Excellent – we can be 18th century doctor killers!"
"Mmm – some couples go hill walking … we plot to kill my F1's with 250 year old weaponry."