Having left you all on a bit of a cliff hanger, I now give you - the Labour part II.
A few joke, a lot of music and a baby turner to finish off, what could be better!?
Thank you again for all your reviews, I am really flattered and grateful that you you a) read my fic and b) seem to be enjoying it! So please do continue.
This chapter's songs are:
Keep on running - the Spencer Davis group
Don't stop me now - Queen
enjoy xx
So keep on running, running from my arms, one fine day I'm gonna be the one to make you understand. Oh, yeah, I'm gonna be your man. Hey, come on baby, feel so good, I'm gonna be your man, I'm gonna be your man, I'm gonna be your man
"And that was the Spencer Davis group with Keep on Running. A fantastic classic song, requested by uh … Shelagh from London and that's for her husband Patrick who's currently racing across the country because she's in labour! She texted us about 10 minutes ago to give her man a bit of help in his mission. And I'm sure all the All Request Friday listeners out there will join us in wishing Patrick a safe and speedy journey! You're listening to Simon Mayo's Drive-Time on BBC radio 2 …"
Bursting out laughing, Patrick smiled at his often ridiculous wife and checked his speedometer and pressed the accelerator down as he continued down the A3211, he was around 40 minutes from the hospital but although Shelagh knew he had left Cardiff he hadn't been able to pull over and ring her to give her any kind of progress report. He felt, with Spencer Davis on the radio and the inability to use his mobile, as though it was 1958 – perhaps to complete the effect he shouldn't go in and visit her but sit in the corridor smoking. The idea was tempting if only for the effect it would have on Sister Evangalina.
"He's driving … he's driving, that's why he hasn't rung isn't it? Because he can't."
"Exactly!"
"So why isn't he here Julie?! I hate him … why isn't here?"
"Oh Shelagh," Julie sat down beside her on the edge of the bed and put an arm around her friend's shoulder and drew her in towards her, "oh my dear. I know, but you know he's coming as fast as he can – and he'll be here soon. You've done him the power of good you know, and him you. You've come out of your shell … you've come alive, and he's a new man. I can't think of a couple I'm happier for, honestly."
"Thank you, you know it really means a lot to me and … oh God …"
"Contraction?"
"Mmm … argh! Yup that was definitely a contraction. Where is he, I just want Patrick to be here."
"I know, and he will be as soon as he can. Do you want me to switch the radio on?"
"Yeah please, do you think Patrick got my song."
"Oh I imagine so, when is he not listening to radio 2?"
Patrick jumped out of his car, spinning on his heels to lock the car half way down the pavement before sprinting off towards the automatic doors of the main entrance, he carried on running, narrowly avoiding crashing into a porter pushing a wheelchair. The lift was too slow, and full of people who seemed intent on delaying Patrick in his mission, taking the stairs two at a time he reached the first floor and, taking a sharp left he ran full pelt down the corridor, his shoes slipping on the lino as he rounded the last corner. He pulled his ID from his belt and ran it briefly against the black box that was stuck to the door frame which beeped obligingly, throwing his weight against the heavy door he stumbled into the ward and ran down to the deserted nurses station.
Rm 1: Jayne Parkinson (21) 41wk - Camilla
Rm 2: Hannah Goldman (28) 39wk - John
Rm 3: ST
Rm 4: Zara Barry (32) 40wk - Jenny
Rm 6:
Rm 7: Carly Smith (16) 34wk – Shelagh Trixie
Swearing to himself Patrick re-read the list three times before his eyes set on Room 3: ST, Shelagh Turner. Of course, Shelagh wouldn't want the girls knowing that she was in labour, she hated fuss. Taking a deep breath Patrick knocked on the door to room 3 and pushed his way in,
"Oh Jesus, Patrick thank God!" running to the bed side Patrick grabbed hold of Shelagh's hand and bent down to kiss her.
"I am so so sorry … I'm sorry."
"It's fine it's fine, you're here now … but God I hate you for the past 3 and a half hours!"
"I know I know … I got your message on radio 2!"
"I thought you'd like that." Said Shelagh with a smile that turned to a grimace as a fresh wave of contraction pain washed over her, Julie appeared in the doorway, and smiled broadly as she caught sight of Patrick.
"The wonderer returns! And just in the nick of time too."
"Oh you know me Julie, fashionably late."
"Hmm I'll reserve judgment I think, you're just lucky that the baby's been taking it's time. But, I've had a little look and things are getting moving, head's engaged and it looks like it might be time to start doing some pushing. Shelagh?"
"Mmm … yup … pushing sounds like an idea. Bloody hell this isn't fun."
"Do you know, I've never heard a woman describe labour as not fun before. Nothing if not an individual Shelagh. Now, I know you don't like the gas and air -"
"It's bloody awful, like I've been necking vodka all day."
"So, I give you full permission to break Patricks metacarpals to get you through the pain."
"Don't I get any say in this?" Asked Patrick indignantly, lacing his fingers through Shelagh's and giving her hand a squeeze,
"No." replied the two women in unison.
Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time I feel alive and the world it's turning inside out Yeah! I'm floating around in ecstasy. So don't stop me now don't stop me 'cause I'm having a good time having a good time.
"Ok Shelagh, nearly there … nice big push for me, deep into your bottom."
"I know what I'm bloody doing Julie!"
I'm a shooting star leaping through the skies, like a tiger defying the laws of gravity. I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva. I'm gonna go go go, there's no stopping me!
"Shelagh … love … you're hurting me … really quite a lot."
"Do not mention pain Patrick, you don't know pain."
"Right … sorry. You're doing a great job!"
I'm burning through the sky yeah! Two hundred degrees that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit, I'm trav'ling at the speed of light I wanna make a supersonic man out of you.
"And … that's the head delivered. Well done! You are doing such a brilliant job Shelagh, take a breather, maybe let go of Patrick's hand for a second?"
"Sorry Patrick."
"It's fine, I probably deserve it!"
"Argh … right – contraction."
"OK Shelagh, I know your tired – shoulders to go and then you're on easy street."
"Bloody shoulders … why are they so wide?"
Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time I'm having a ball. Don't stop me now … If you wanna have a good time Just give me a call
"Shelagh. You've done it … you've got a baby girl."
"Oh … Shelagh … she's perfect."
"Why isn't she crying? Julie? Patrick why isn't she crying?"
"She's fine, just a little shocked." A thin cry pierced the air and Shelagh felt all the air flood into her lungs at once, a tiny pale body with fine fair hair like spun gold spread across the crown was placed on her chest, fingernails the size of a grain of rice at the end of starfish hands and a face that looked outraged to have been removed from its safe warm cocoon. Her arms wrapped around the human being that seemed almost too delicate to touch while at the same time was evidently far too strong to be ignored. Unable to move, like his feet were encased in concrete and his legs had turned to iron Patrick watched, inch by inch his hand extended to touch the baby's hand which clamped around his finger with a vice like grip. After a moment Shelagh turned her head and looked at him with a smile that was half shock and half elation,
"We've had a baby." she said softly.
"Oh, is that what all that screaming was about?"
"So it would seem … I'm not crying."
"Neither am I. Neither of us are crying Julie, did you get that?"
"Oh yes, and I'm certainly not crying either! Now, is there a name?"
"Oh … no, Patrick?"
"No … I've no idea."
"Baby Turner it is then!"
Tim paused the DVD, Vanishing of the bees was one of his favourites but it was providing little distraction from what he knew was happening at the hospital, feverishly checking his mobile yet again for any news. He had spent the whole night dozing in jeans and a hoody on the sofa with his trainers sat beside the sofa, ready to rush to the hospital at any moment, he had even scoured the house for money, emptying his dad's coat pocket and raiding the window sill where Shelagh emptied her tunic pockets before she washed them for forgotten coins in case he had to get a taxi in the dead of night. It was the doorbell that had disturbed him from the DVD at 4am, flicking on the hall light he stared at the distorted shape through the glass and cautiously opened it.
"Morning Tim … I would say I hope I didn't wake you but by the looks of it you were up."
"Hi Cynthia, I was waiting for news … is that why you're here? Is it Shelagh? Is she OK? Is the baby alright?"
"Everyone is fine, Shelagh called to bring you in and see them. Miroslav's driving."
"Oh, OK uh … umm lets go!"
"Coat? Keys? … Shoes?"
"Uh … yeah!"
* Miroslav is parking, we are bringing up Tim now. Be there in 5! Cxxx*
*You are an angel, thank Miroslav for me! Sxxx*
"Who was that?"
"Cynthia, She's in the car park – she'll bring the boy up now. How is she?"
"Oh fine, she's got you as a mother – she's as strong as an ox."
"I'm not sure if I like that comparison, she looks so tiny in the incubator … like she isn't real."
"She is though, and because of you."
"Och you played a part too … a small part granted."
"Oh ho ho ho! I see you havn't lost your cutting sense of humour."
"I'm exhausted! I have a right to be dryly witty." Disturbed by a knock at the door, a face peered around and was followed by a scuffed pair of jeans and a battered hoody.
"Hi … how are you?" Tim asked quietly,
"I'm fine, we're all absolutely fine. Do you want to say hello?"
"Umm yeah." winking at his son Patrick stood to one side to reveal the incubator stood beside Shelagh's bed, a look of wonder and terror passed across her step-son's face and Shelagh smiled at him.
"It's OK, you can touch her if you like. She's just a bit small – that's why they've put her in the incubator. It's only for a few days."
"She's a girl? Wow … she's really … like small."
"Yeah, which is good news for Shelagh!"
"Dad … don't. Can I feel her?"
"Of course, just wash your hands first and then you can hold her hand to your hearts content!"
"Wow … what are going to call her? … Can I suggest Timera again?"
"Well, we've just been talking about that actually." Said Patrick, stepping back to let Tim get alongside the incubator and slide his hand in through the hole to run his teenage finger along the back of her fist. "And we like … Shelagh?"
"We thought Nina, Nina Turner. What do you think?"
"Nina? Nina's nice … bit old fashioned but it's cool I guess."
"Well – I think that's as close as we're going to get to a seal of approval love."
"Nina it is then." Replied Shelagh, extending a hand to wrap her fingers around Patrick's, slowly her husband lowered himself beside her to sit on the bed and wrapped his spare arm around her, the couple watched the baby being marvelled at by Tim who seemed to be entirely confused at the idea that something such a small human being could exist.
"Welcome to the world Nina Catriona Turner."