Apologies, it has taken me so long to get this up. My excuse is feeble – I've actually been writing the next chapter which is the final one of the story and sort of forgot to write this one … oops! Sorry about that.
Thank you for all your lovely reviews – I do love getting them and so please do feel free to continue to tell me what you think as we reach the end of our little journey together!
This chapter's song is:
That's alright - Laura Mvula
Enjoy x
"I've been thinking -"
"Always dangerous."
"I've been thinking - it'll be our anniversary next week Patrick."
"Mmhmm."
"Well … what do you want to do?"
"I don't know, meal?"
"Yes, we could or we could do something a bit more exciting."
"What … night away?"
"Hard as it is to imagine Patrick, I was thinking of something even more exciting than sex."
"Nope, you've lost me sorry love."
"Oh ha ha. I thought about a party – well not a party but … drinks at ours."
"To celebrate our marriage … or commiserate losing our jobs?"
"To celebrate our marriage and maybe to commiserate losing our jobs or to celebrate keeping them through my brilliance and your hard work."
"Ever the optimist Shelagh."
"Ever the pessimist Patrick. So – what do you think."
"… Why not. It seems like either way alcohol and cake is probably a good idea!"
"Excellent! I thought we should put Tim on making the playlist, if he's not too distracted with his new woman that is."
"Yes … I'm not sure I'm old enough to have a son who's got a girlfriend."
"Oh trust me Patrick – you are definitely old enough."
Shelagh paced the kitchen tensely, Nina in her arms she methodically walked back and forth between the kitchen table and the cooker, every time she slowed as she thought her daughter might have settled the whimpering wriggle of discontent began in her arms and she would have to carry one, endlessly pacing. Tim had joked the she should get a pedometer and see how far she walked around the house, and out of curiosity she had decided to get an app on her phone and follow her step-sons advice. Balancing Nina in the crook of her arm against her chest she took her mobile from her jeans pocket; today, for her grizzly and unsettled daughter she had walked from Camden Locks to the Old Kent Road. She saw the light of the house phone light up and tried to grab the handset from the cradle before it erupted into the ringing which would wake Nina to the point of no return, she managed to get it just as the first ring sounded out.
"Hello." She whispered,
"Hello? Sorry – it's a terrible line."
"Sorry, I've got a restless baby in my arms … just a second." pausing she checked Nina who seemed settled enough and she put Nina down in the Moses basket beside the table and collecting the phone slipped back into the hallway. "Right – sorry about that."
"That's alright, uh … can I speak to Shelagh Turner please?"
"Speaking."
"Ahh, good afternoon – this is Kay, Kay Oss, from the Health Service Re-organisation committee at NHS England, I think you met Garry Kelly on my behalf at the meeting last week?"
"Oh! Right … sorry. Yes Kay … uh … what can I do for you?"
"I'm ringing you to organise a meeting, we'd like you to come in to the ELC to discuss the appeal."
"Oh … of course, when … when did you think?"
"Friday afternoon, Mr Jensen and I have an opening at 2?"
"That's fine! Of course! Do I need to bring the others?"
"No no – just you'll be fine. I'll see you at 2 then on Friday."
"Lovely, bye then."
"Bye – bye." Walking back into the kitchen Shelagh carefully replaced the phone in the cradle and checked on the baby, satisfied that she had finally settled the baby she sat down with her cup of tea thoughtfully. Kay Oss had seemed nice enough but Shelagh couldn't pick up from the woman's voice weather Shelagh and Patrick had managed to save everyone's jobs or weather this would be the end. Taking a swig of tea she took her phone out of her pocket and started texting.
*There's a meeting on Friday at the ELC – I think I'm getting the verdict! Sx*
*You were brilliant love, whatever happens, you did your best Px*
*But will it be enough? Sx*
*Well fingers crossed because we're buggered if it isn't! Px*
*You are SO supportive! Sx*
"I am on a mission!"
"A mission from God?"
"What?"
"Blues Brothers?"
"What?"
"Oh God Shelagh, please tell me you've seen the Blues Brothers?!"
"I must have missed that one."
"Shelagh! It's a classic film, these two brothers – and they're on a mission from God to save the Catholic orphanage they were brought up in, so they re-form their old band to get the money … and Areatha Franklin had a diner!"
"Cynthia … you spend too much time with Miroslav."
"It's a good film!"
"I'm sure! … So I'm on a mission – to remake my mother's chocolate cake."
"That sounds fun!"
"It was amazing, I remember it from when I was little and every now and then I try and re-make it … but she used to add in some kind of weird alcohol."
"Brandy?"
"Like brandy … but not brandy. I think it was some kind of weird eastern European liqueur, it was potent stuff but the cake was amazing!"
"I can ask Miroslav if you like? He might know, what did it taste like?"
"Uh … strong and sweet? A sort of amber colour … and I think it used to be in a round bottle … maybe."
"Not much to go on, but I'll give it a go – if you give me another slice of the raspberry cheese cake."
"Of course! I must admit, it is bloody good cheese cake. I've excelled myself!"
Patrick removed his hand slowly from the woman and pulled off his glove swiftly with a cracking noise of damp latex, he raised his head slightly and peered up past the bump to his patients face.
"No that's fine, I've no concerns about that."
"Thank you doctor, sorry … I'm being stupid I know."
"Not at all Sam! Not at all, it's why I'm here – to make sure that you and your baby are doing well."
"Thanks … ummm – uh …"
"Yes?" Patrick asked, drying off his hands from the sink and turning back towards the young woman with the best smile he could muster at half 4 in the morning,
"Sorry, but you don't know if my boyfriend's rang do you? Only he said he'd come and I left a message and … has he rung?"
"Uh, I don't know I'm afraid. But I can find out … would you like me to try and ring him again?"
"Umm I don't know … Sorry."
"Stop apologising!"
"Sorry … have you got children?"
"Yes, two."
"And did you see them … you know, come out?"
"Uh yes, I was at both births, nearly missed the second but got back in the nick of time. Good think too – my wife would have crucified me if I'd have missed it." he added with a laugh as the woman stared intently down at her chest picking endlessly at the skin around her nails.
"And … afterwards. Was things still the same? With you and your wife?"
"The same? How do you mean?"
"I mean … I mean, after you'd seen all that. I mean it's disgusting isn't it … did you still fancy her after you'd seen all the sweating and the screaming and the … the baby coming out." Patrick swallowed hard and thoughtfully cocked his head to one side, on the one hand he really wasn't sure if he should be discussing his sex life with a girl young enough to be his daughter. Picking his words carefully he took a deep breath,
"It's certainly not for the faint hearted no … I think my wife is beautiful, and I think she's just as beautiful having given birth as she was before. I think, if he's anything like every other man I see in this unit, when your boyfriend turns up he'll care so much about you being OK and the baby being OK that you could have dyed your hair green and he wouldn't notice or care. Giving birth is hard work, tiring and emotionally exhausting work … blimey I couldn't do it, you're going to need support from him Sam, let him in and let him support you … and if you're really worried. Just don't let him get a ring-side seat, keep him up near you eh?"
"Thank you."
"Very Welcome, excuse me." he said with a wink as he slipped out of the side room, Trixie was walking towards him pushing a birthing ball ahead of her. "That's all fine in there Trixie, I've no concerns."
"Thanks Patrick, you're a gem!"
"No problem, uh – has her boyfriend called, she's asking?"
"Nope, or not so's anyone's said to me baby."
"Right, I might give him a ring, if he's coming it'll need to be soonish."
"Aye. Eh – Cynthia gave me a message for Shelagh, but I might as well give it to you."
"Oh right OK?"
"She say, Miroslav thinks it's slivovitz – sounds like it and you can put it in chocolate cake. Make any sense to you baby?"
"A bit … Slivovitz?"
"Aye … I got no idea man, but that's the message."
"Right … thanks Trixie." He replied, distractedly he wandered off down the corridor muttering slivovitz to himself and trying in his head to think of wear that shop was that he had half seen a hundred times.
I will never be what you want and that's alright, cause my skin ain't light and my body ain't tight. And that's alright. But if I might, I must stand and fight. I will never be what you want and that's alright, I play my own damn tune, I shine like the moon. And very soon, I'll soon fly over you. And what you gonna do when I fly over you?
Tapping his foot against the clutch to the music Patrick held the lighter to his cigarette and threw it down on the passenger side where it bounced off the seat and into the foot-well, landing into one of the carrier bags of alcohol he had stocked the car with. He stared at the red light and let his mind wander, what would he and Shelagh do if the appeal failed? They could find new jobs of course, but it wouldn't be in the same hospital, and there was always the difficulty of his age – he preferred to stay in the thick of it which is why he had never ascended to the rank of consultant, but finding a job for a registrar in his 50's wouldn't be easy. Shelagh would find it easy enough, but without the support of Julie and the girls she would find shift patterns hard with Nina, he could always take early retirement and look after Nina for her, although he knew in his heart of hearts that he wanted to work. Brought back to life by a sharp horn from behind him he glanced up at the lights and waving briefly out of his back window he pulled out from the lights and tried to ignore the glare of the boy who was now overtaking him in a yellow Clio. Smiling at the car as it sped past as sweetly as he could, Patrick turned left towards the high street carried on back down the streets that he hadn't driven down for a long time, almost over a year since he had seen the maze and network of winding grey where Shelagh used to live in her tower block. He was starting to feel a little guilty for what a pessimist he had been about the appeal, and he did feel as though he was ignoring all Shelagh's hard work to fuel his own insecurities. And so he had constructed a plan, a plan to atone for his pessimism and win back his wife – even if he wasn't sure if he'd lost her yet.