Proudly presenting Chapter 33: in which Patrick and Shelagh have dinner with Lila, Dan and Shelagh have a secrete assignation and Patrick has big changes to cope with.
I think that you'll all enjoy this chapter, or I hope you all do at any rate. I do – it was tricky to write and as a result is a little bit bitty so I'm not massively happy with it because I know what's happening in the future and wanted this to get out there!
Hope you all enjoy!
x
Further A/N – for those of you from overseas and/or don't have any interest in the British Tabloids (and why would you!?) – I mention the Daily Mail in this chapter, it's a very angry, right wing, national tabloid paper.
The DM likes to get irate and outraged about everything: immigrants, pornography, fat celebrities, thin celebrities, pregnant celebrities, the Labour party, people who believe in climate change, the weather, government red tape, nurses, teachers, the NHS, … ect. ect. also at the moment they seem to be very annoyed about false widow spiders for some un-known reason!
"What's that smell?"
"Uh … onions?"
"Maybe."
"You like onions though."
"They smell really … oniony."
"Onions tend to love. It's one of their many qualities … to smell oniony."
"Well … it's too oniony for my liking! What time's the whore of Hampstead getting here?"
"You can't call her that, or … not to her face anyway. In about half an hour, now do you want me to put the strychnine in her food or her drink? Or both?"
"Neither … I'm going to be mature and reasonable."
"No you're not Shelagh, but you know I admire your optimism."
"It is one of my better qualities, right – I am going to go and get dressed. If the whore from Hampstead arrives … try not to boff her eh."
"I'll do my best!"
Shelagh poured a little more wine into her glass and topped up Patrick's at the same time,
"Lila, more wine?"
"No thanks Shelagh … you know, Shelagh I haven't said."
"Haven't you?"
"Uh – how decent it is of you to be so … fine about all this."
"Mm, yes well, I very understand, aren't I Patrick?"
"Yes. Oh yes you are, if there's one word I'd use to describe you it'd be … understanding." replied Patrick, carefully watching his wife, who was looking like a cat about to pounce,
"But." Shelagh added. "I obviously want to make sure that you hold up your side of the bargain, that the inquiry against Patrick will be dropped."
"Of course you do!"
"I think you know our locum? Daniel Morcombe?"
"I'm not sure." Said Lila, nervously sipping at her wine, she was used to being in control and Shelagh seemed keen to take the upper hand this evening,
"He was with you at Cambridge … before you were kicked off the course and started up at UCL? You offered him yourself – in return for helping you cheat on your exams? Surely that must ring a bell?"
"Uh – possibly yes." the young doctor replied into her wineglass, taking another desperate mouthful.
"Yes … your Dad may like this little story of yours, but I'm not so sure he'll like that one."
"Possibly not."
"No. So I imagine you wouldn't like it if that little story got out?"
"Mrs Turner … that is blackmail."
"Well that's a grey area … but I know which'll sound better in the press. Senior midwife outs consultant's daughter for cheating on medical exams by offering sexual favours, or, consultant's daughter lies about affair with registrar to hide failing her F1 rotation … I mean, I know which one would make the Daily Mail less outraged."
"I … I understand."
"Good. You know Lila, you should be proud – I'm a really lovely person, and you've made me really unpleasant and scheming … not many people have achieved that."
"I would of thought I was the first."
"Och no, there was Louisa Brown in secondary school – she tripped my best friend down the stairs when I was 15 so I told everyone she had scabies."
"You're full of surprises."
"Who isn't Dr Morgan?"
"What're you reading Love?"
"Filth, Irving Welsh … I'm still undecided."
"Oh?"
"It's good, but he's such a shit … he's annoying me."
"People usually are shits in his books, isn't that the point?"
"No … train-spotting has justified shitty behaviour, thingy Roberson in this – he's just an awful human being."
"Lots of people are."
"Do you have to be so world weary and philosophical Patrick?"
"Uh … yes!"
"Mm – thought you might. Ooh – while we're on the subject … not that we were!"
"Mmm?"
"I need you to bear with me."
"Right."
"I'm going to be back late tomorrow."
"Oh … any reason?"
"Yes … maybe a good reason, well ... definitely a good reason … but the outcome's more unknown. Well – just wait and see!"
"You've got me worried now."
"Don't be worried Patrick … it's completely 100% fine."
"Right … you're sure?"
"Yeah!"
"Right … OK."
Shelagh jogged down the corridor, opening her office door in the clinic she grabbed the phone off the cradle on her desk and pinned it between her ear and shoulder,
"Royston clinic, Staff Nurse Turner speaking."
"Shelagh, it's Dan."
"Hi – what can I do for you?"
"I've got a patient up here, she's been flagged up on your files as a user. She's at the Royston."
"Oh?" stretching out the cord she walked around the side of her desk, dumping down her stack of paperwork to free her hands. Sitting at the desktop she opened up the records system, "What's her name?"
"Uh … Natasha Petrov." Shelagh started typing, rattling her way through her clinic's records.
"It's just loading now, bloody server's on its way out – gets slower every day!"
"It's alright … how's Patrick?"
"Um, much the same really. Getting bored of sitting about waiting for a decision, the house has never been so tidy."
"Must be nice."
"Can't complain – oh here we go. Right … agh yes I know the lady … 23, IV drug user … Hep C positive, unsurprisingly … according to this she started on a methadone program - umm, 6 months ago."
"Yeah – except … I think she's then she's supplementing with … something."
"I take it you think she's doing more than sucking on a Fisherman's Friend?"
"I think she's using again."
"Right .. oh Jesus, just what I need! OK, run bloods and I'll come up when I can to see her, and I'll ring Danny Christie."
"Who?"
"Addiction charge nurse, he'll probably make it up before me, I'm snowed under here."
"Okie-dokie. And uh … are you still free for later?"
"Yeah yeah – uh, 6ish alright?"
"Yeah fine, do you want me to come to you or do you want to come up?"
"No, uh – best if you come down. People'll ask questions if I'm up in maternity."
"Right. See you at 6ish."
"Great, thanks Dan. And, you're a total star."
"Why am I doing this Shelagh? Just out of interest."
"Because I've been wrong before Dan, I've had my hopes up before and I don't want to have them up again."
"Well … that's fair enough. Does Patrick know?"
"No. It's the same really … I don't want to break his heart anymore."
"He's a lucky man, to have someone who loves him so much."
"And you don't?"
"No, never met the right girl. Alas."
"Pity – you'd make a good boy-friend, you look like you're probably a good cook."
"I am as it happens. A make an excellent prawn and pea risotto."
"Ha, I bet you do."
"Right, we, are, finished!"
"Right, what's the verdict?"
"You're right."
"I'm right? I am … definitely?"
"Completely and definitely yes."
"I don't know what to say! Thank you – so much, for doing this."
"Oh no problem."
"If there's anything I can do for you, you only have to ask."
"Find me a job, for when Patrick's back on the ward?"
"If only I could, you're a fantastic doctor!"
Patrick was staring intently into a saucepan when Shelagh got in, throwing her keys onto the kitchen counter she joined him at the cooker and peered in,
"Is it supposed to be that colour?"
"I don't think so … no."
"Uh – what was it meant to be?"
"Chicken."
"Chicken?"
"Mmm."
"Not traditionally green is it? Chicken."
"Not generally no, I imagine that that's the spinach."
"And the black bits floating in it?"
"Garlic."
"Ahh … hmm … cheese on toast?"
"You mean that my green gloopy, gritty … chickeny … thing isn't enticing you?"
"Uh … no."
"Crushing! How was your day? Ooo – how was your thing, your mystery thing that I'm not allowed to know about?" Shelagh nodded slowly and gave Patrick a kiss on the cheek, slipping past him to put on the kettle she hitched herself up and sat on the counter opposite her husband.
"Yes, yeah work was fine … and yeah ... my thing was good too."
"Am I allowed to know what the thing was yet?"
"Yes, well … I've been thinking about the attic."
"The attic?"
"Mmm, I was thinking – if we could put Tim in the attic?"
"Oh Love, I know he can be a bit annoying but we don't need to do a Terry Wogan and chaining him to the fittings!"
"You mean Terry Waite? And I thought – I mean, we could tie him to the radiator, or, we could turn the attic into a new bedroom for him. I mean, it's all plastered and it's got floor boards and stuff hasn't it."
"Uh yeah … but why? We've got a spare bedroom already, we don't need the space."
"Yeah but it wouldn't have to be a spare bedroom – it could be anything … a bedroom for the baby … maybe?"
"Baby? Which baby?"
"Julian Clary's! Who's do you think – ours."
"But … I mean … are you …?"
"Yup. That's where I was tonight, I didn't want to rely on the pregnancy test I took – I asked Dan to check me out and make sure."
"You already knew?"
"A fortnight ago – but I had to wait for Dan to be able check me over. I wasn't sure."
"I would have checked!"
"No. We've both been so disappointed so much over the last couple of months, I didn't want to disappoint you … or to give you the job of breaking my heart."
"So … so we're having a baby?"
"Yeah … yeah."
"Christ, I'm going to be a dad again."
"I'm going to be a mum for the first time, is it always this scary?"
"You're not going to stop being terrified for the rest of your born days my gorgeous gorgeous wife with a brilliant womb!"
"You should write valentine's day cards!"
"I suppose this means we've got to really hope I get my job back – Jesus and we'll have to tell Tim."
"Yeah – and dad … and my sister."
"And Kathy … it'll be fine."
"Yeah … it'll be fine … probably not tonight though eh?"
"Yeah – yeah not tonight."