by Alice Raine
Extracting myself stiffly from Kenny’s embrace I nodded and then turned to Nicholas, who silently guided me towards a block of lifts. Jabbing the button for the fifth floor the doors closed and Nicholas let out a long breath before running his hands roughly over his face. My chest tightened because his gesture was achingly similar to the move Nathan had done when he’d found out about the baby. Swallowing my pointless sentimentality I folded my arms around my body and asked the question at the forefront of my mind, ‘How is he, Nicholas?’ I whispered, my voice reedy and thin as I held my breath, utterly terrified of what his answer might be.
His dark blue eyes met mine and my stomach churned with distress at the look of raw pain and fear that I saw. ‘Unconscious. He’s got swelling on his brain, but it’s going down every day and the doctors are pleased with his progress. Initially they had him sedated to keep him unconscious whilst the swelling lessened, but they’ve stopped the drugs now. The consultant expected him to wake up yesterday, but he didn’t.’ There really was no way to sugar coat news like that, was there? Turning away from me Nicholas ground his jaw together and stared up at the display in the lift which seemed to be taking forever as I tried to absorb his news. The consultant expected him to wake up yesterday, but he didn’t … That really didn’t sound good at all and regardless of how much I knew Nathan would hate it, I started to chew mercilessly on my lower lip.
Nicholas gazed down at the floor, giving me a chance to look over him. His dark blue eyes were dull and bloodshot, his hair greasy and dishevelled, and his usually handsome face was pale and drawn. At a guess I’d say Nicholas hadn’t slept much recently, if at all, which made me question exactly when all this had occurred.
‘What happened?’ I croaked as the lift finally came to a stop and the doors slid open to reveal the orangey lighting of a fancy looking hospital corridor, empty except for the impersonal chairs lining its sides, a water machine, and the horrible low buzz of the lights.
Nicholas walked out first, pausing to let me catch up with him. ‘Nathan was in his car, pulling out of a shopping centre when a lorry smashed into the side of him.’ His voice was low and gravelly and barely loud enough to hear, but as the words sunk in I felt a new wave of nausea threatening to creep up on me again. ‘The driver of the lorry had a heart attack at the wheel, it wasn’t his fault. Nathan was just unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
Now it was my turn to rub my hands over my face as the awful reality hit me, Nathan’s car had been hit by a lorry. His small sports car … it stood no chance against a truck. Gulping in air I struggled to swallow as gruesome images of Nathan trapped inside a twisted ball of metal flooded my mind. ‘When did it happen?’
‘Friday morning, around about eleven o’clock.’ Nicholas said, not elaborating any further as he had paused at a door labelled ‘Private Suite 10a’. ‘He looks pretty bad, Stella,’ he explained awkwardly in preparation, before he opened the door and ushered me inside.
As I entered the room I lost myself in a strange, lonely bubble for a few seconds. Subconsciously I must have needed something to ground me, because my brain latched on to the steady beep, beep, beep of Nathan’s heart monitor as my glazed eyes tried to take in the alien scene before me. Nathan, the man I loved, the man whose baby was nestled in my stomach, was lying in a hospital bed surround by machines and hooked up to so many tubes and pipes that I could barely comprehend it, let alone stand it. A full body shudder shook through me, leaving me covered in prickling goose pimples as every hair on my body seemed to stand up at once. I wanted to run into the corridor and demand a doctor come and wake him up, or rip the tubes from his body myself and kiss him awake, but as the cold reality settled around me again I realised that neither of these options were a possibility, this scene here and now was my new reality, I was awake, and Nathan was very seriously ill.
Staggering forwards I grabbed the rail at the base of the bed to stop myself falling over. The top of Nathan’s head was heavily bandaged, I could see cuts on his pale cheeks and his right arm was in a plaster cast and supported in a sling. God only knows what other injuries lurked below the blankets. A choked sob caught in my throat and made the most ridiculous bubbly noise, and if I hadn’t been so distraught I would probably have laughed at how silly it had sounded. But I was distraught, almost to the point of hyperventilating, and as the entire situation finally hit home I felt my legs give way beneath me like rubber.
Thank goodness Nicholas had quick reactions, because he caught me under the arms and stopped me just seconds before I hit the floor, then helped me over to a chair. As my mind caught up with the massive extent of the situation something occurred to me. Eleven o’clock on Friday morning was about two hours after Nathan had left my house … two hours after our horrible argument where he’d found out about the baby and walked out. Lowering my head into my hands I rubbed at my face and my stinging eyes with the heels of my hands until the skin hurt. All this time I’d been cursing him for not calling me or answering his phone, while the whole time he’d been here, bandaged up and unconscious. If possible I suddenly felt even worse about the whole situation as guilt settled into my stomach alongside the fear and dread which had taken residence since Kenny had told me about the accident.
‘Why didn’t you call me, Nicholas?’ I muttered, too distressed to voice the anger that I felt in my tone. To my astonishment Nicholas laughed, a dry humourless bark, but a laugh nonetheless. ‘Believe me I tried. Nathan’s phone was crushed in the accident, I don’t have your number, and Rebecca’s away at some book conference in Scotland with no fucking phone signal so I couldn’t get it from her either.’ Running a hand through his hair Nicholas grimaced and shook his head, ‘Do you have any idea how many Stella Marsdens there are in the greater London area?’ I thought his question was probably rhetorical so remained silent, my eyes slipping back to the bed and Nathan’s unmoving figure. ‘Fucking dozens. I called directory enquiries and explained the situation and they sent me a list, but I gave up after phoning the twenty-second one and getting yelled at.’
Twenty-second? My eyes flicked back to Nicholas and seeing the grim set of his jaw I realised he was being serious, he really had been phoning all the Stella Marsdens trying to find me. ‘They only knew to call me because my name is registered to Nathan’s driving licence as his next of kin,’ Nicholas explained in a low tone.
‘You know where I work, Nicholas, you could have called me at the office,’ I mumbled. Even though I knew it was pointless saying it now that the time had passed, I couldn’t help myself. If I’d known earlier I could have been here for Nathan, and right now that was all I could focus on.
Nicholas looked at me, his face suddenly so distressed that I thought he was going to cry. ‘I didn’t think.’ Shaking his head his eyes darted around the room, ‘I couldn’t think of anything except my brother being alone here in this awful place.’
Wow, so if Kenny hadn’t gone to Nathan’s office today it could have been days or even weeks until I found out about Nathan’s accident. The thought was so horrifically shattering that finally my tears broke through and began to silently slide down my cheeks and drip from my chin onto the covers by Nathan’s feet. I had never felt so wretched or utterly useless in my life.
Just then the door opened and a medic walked in, followed closely by a frantic-looking Rebecca. She dumped down the suitcase she was carrying and her eyes flickered over me, Nathan’s still form, and then landed on Nicholas before she dashed across the room and pulled him into an embrace so hard that I heard the air rush from his lungs. ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t call you back, we had no signal, your emails and voicemails only came through when I got to Gatwick an hour ago and turned my phone on.’
The medic left the room, closing the door behind him, and as I watched Nicholas and Rebecca hug I felt a lead weight settle in my stomach. That closeness was what I’d had with Nathan before I’d gotten pregnant, and now I was all alone because he was unconscious and injured and ha
d made it clear he didn’t want me, or our baby. As soon as I thought it, I felt horrendously guilty – even if Nathan didn’t want to be with me any more I wouldn’t ever wish this upon him, not in a million years. I wanted, needed, to know that he was alive and well and living his life somewhere, not stuck unconscious in some hospital bed.
‘Christ, these last few days have been atrocious … I’m so fucking glad you’re here, Rebecca,’ Nicholas murmured into her hair. Finally untwisting himself from his fiancée he looked over to me again as Rebecca came to my side and pulled me into a wordless, but supportive hug, ‘This all feels more positive now you’re both here,’ Nicholas said with a firm nod, ‘I’m hoping that you being here might make a difference to him, Stella,’ Nicholas murmured stepping up to the bedside and gazing down at his brother.
I’m not sure if it was Nicholas’ hopeful words or the sympathetic nature of Rebecca’s hug, but suddenly the final straw in my composure broke and I clung to Rebecca, sobbing desperately hard. My entire body was shaking from the huge sobs and my tears soaked the shoulder of her shirt in just seconds. After a few minutes I managed to get myself marginally more under control. ‘I … I doubt it will make a difference …’ I managed between choked breaths, ‘We … we had an argument … I don’t think Nathan wants to be with me any more …’
And then, around a series of strangled sobs the whole story came out; the pregnancy, my horrendous morning sickness and craving for ginger that had let the secret out, Nathan’s shock at my news, my memories of how horrified he’d been when we’d met Melissa, his old submissive and he’d thought her child might have been his … everything, even stupid insignificant details that now seemed so precious and dear to me. Finally depleted of energy and tears I stopped speaking and after sucking in some much needed air I accepted a wad of tissues from Rebecca and retook my seat on the sofa before my legs gave way.
Sitting forward I rested my elbows on my knees and tried to clean my wet face as I finished my story, ‘So when he left my house on Friday, not long before his accident I suppose, I wasn’t really sure where we stood … but I’m pretty certain Nathan didn’t want to be with me anymore.’ If only we hadn’t argued, then he might have stayed at my house and not been anywhere near the shopping centre or the truck. Closing my eyes I struggled to breathe. If he didn’t recover and the last words we ever said to each other were our spiteful argumentative comments I would never get over it. I’d forever blame myself.
Looking up I saw Nicholas’ frown give way slightly and he turned to the chair in the corner to pick up two plastic bags. ‘This makes more sense now.’ He put the bags on the table at the end of Nathan’s bed and indicted for Rebecca and I to join him. ‘This is what they retrieved from his car,’ Nicholas explained as he tipped the first bag out to reveal Nathan’s keys, wallet, watch, and his crushed mobile phone. Picking up his watch in one hand I weighed the familiar item in my hand as a jerky sob escaped my throat, quickly followed by several more. Putting my free hand over my mouth to stop my lips from wobbling with more tears I clung to his watch with a bunched fist. Suddenly though, as if it had jabbed me with an electric shock I dumped the watch almost violently onto the table as I realised the metal was cold and lifeless, not warm from his skin like usual, and offered me no support whatsoever. God, this was fucking horrendous.
Moving the second carrier bag Nicholas held it up. ‘And these things made no sense to me, but apparently it was in the car with Nathan too, the receipts show that he’d just bought it all.’ Nicholas tipped the contents of the second bag on to the table, ‘After your story I think I understand now, and if I’m right then I’m pretty sure Nathan does want you, Stella, and your baby,’ he murmured, giving my shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
My eyes were too watery to see properly, so I rubbed at them with the soggy tissue and looked at the objects on the table, blinking quickly to fight back more tears as I registered what they were; a giant packet of ginger nut biscuits, six stalks of fresh ginger, a bottle of ginger cordial, and a packet of ginger teabags. My brow puckered into a frown as I ran my fingertips gently over the items which had become rather familiar to me recently to cure my morning sickness – it was almost too much to hope that Nathan had been buying these things for me.
‘There were these too, they mean anything to you?’ Nicholas enquired curiously, handing me a small stack of pamphlets. Confused, I looked at them and belatedly realised they were estate agents brochures. Flicking through the first couple I saw they were houses in London, big houses if the floor plans were anything to go by, but I didn’t recognise any of them at all. Just then some pen marks caught my eye and I paused. Opening the page properly I saw red biro marks on the paper in several places, a red ring had been drawn around the word ‘nursery’, and the word ‘conservatory’ had been underlined three times.
Oh my God. Goose pimples flooded my skin and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up until I shivered. My eyes widened as I stared at the brochure and realised what this meant. Nathan had looked at houses with nurseries. A nursery for our baby. A new house for us that would be ours, not his flat with its lingering memories of the other women he’d entertained. Even with all his messed-up issues he’d listened to my concerns about his apartment and acted, he’d even remembered my joke about wanting a conservatory, and judging from all the ginger products he’d absorbed my comment about it helping my morning sickness.
A hiccupy sob broke from my lips as I continued to stare at the papers in my hands. From this evidence it would seem that after our argument Nathan had immediately gone shopping for new houses and ginger biscuits. That seemed pretty good evidence to support Nicholas’ theory that Nathan did indeed want both me and our baby in his life. Just three days ago this knowledge would have made me jubilantly happy, but with just a few moments of horror that had all changed now. Nathan might very well die before we’d ever get a chance to live that new life together, a possibility that seemed too cruel for me to even consider.
The urge to cry crept up on me again, but instead of allowing it to rule me I swallowed down the tears, straightened my spine, and rushed my way around the bed towards Nathan’s sleeping form. I needed to be positive and strong. He needed me to be positive and strong for both of us. Reaching out a hand I realised I was trembling, my fingers shaking so much I could barely control the limb, but I persevered and gently stroked my fingers across his cheek. His skin was cold to touch, nothing like the usual heat that seemed to almost radiate from him and I frowned, hating seeing him like this and wishing there was something, anything, that I could do.
As my gaze swept over him again I noticed that as well as his arm being in plaster, his right hand was also bandaged. I realised with a twist of guilt that the gauze was most likely covering cuts from when he’d found out about the baby and punched my kitchen counter.
Hearing a click of the door opening I glanced over to see Nicholas and Rebecca leaving the room, obviously wanting to give me some privacy with Nathan, which I appreciated immensely. Taking his undamaged hand in mine I stroked my thumb over his palm before clutching it to my lips and kissing each knuckle in turn. The sound of Nathan’s air being regulated by a ventilator combined with the constant beep of his heart monitor was both reassuring and sickening to me. I was glad he was in such good hands, but in the quiet of the room the sounds just acted as a reminder to me of just how sick Nathan really was. ‘Nathan? It’s me, Stella. I’m here now, sweetheart.’ Calling Nathan, such a dominant and proud man ‘sweetheart’ seemed a little strange, but it slipped from my tongue effortlessly and after considering it, I decided I quite liked the way it sounded.
Twenty-three – Nathan
Whatever it was that was beeping was driving me insane. For fuck’s sake. Beep, beep, woosh, beep, beep, fucking woosh. It seemed a vaguely familiar noise, but for some reason my mind was too foggy to place it. As well as a cotton wool head my mouth felt like sandpaper and my throat was burning like I’d scraped it repeatedly with my best frigg
ing cheese grater.
Beep, beep, woosh. Christ that noise was really getting on my nerves now and certainly made me forget my discomfort. I tried to open my eyes to see the cause of the irritating sound so I could stop it, preferably with a swift but effective punch, but my eyes felt sticky and sealed shut. Everything was so hazy. Maybe I had a hangover? Although feeling as bad as I currently did, it would have had to be one hell of a drinking session. I certainly couldn’t remember drinking last night, but then again, I couldn’t really focus well enough to remember much of anything. What the fuck was going on? Maybe I was asleep and having a really trippy dream. That would explain why I couldn’t seem to move.
Just then I felt a lovely warmth enclose around my fingers, and my useless, leaden arm was lifted into the air. A beautifully familiar scent floated to my nostrils shortly before I felt a softness brush my knuckles and a breath tickle my hand. I wanted to smile from the sensation, but I couldn’t. ‘Nathan? It’s me, Stella. I’m here now, sweetheart.’ Stella? Stella was here? My spirits soared. But where exactly was “here”? My brain struggled to picture her for a second, but my senses were suddenly engulfed as Stella’s image flooded my mind in all its heart stopping glory. I loved her, there was no doubt in my mind. And those eyes of hers, jeez, she’d had me at the first glance, they were like frigging windows to her soul.
If I could have frowned I would have, because Stella’s voice sounded as if it was trembling, like she was crying, or at least had been. No doubt I’d upset her somehow by being the insensitive prick that I usually am. Fuck, I loved this woman so much. Desperate to finally tell her out loud I tried again to open my eyes, every muscle straining with the effort, but all I managed was a minuscule flinch of my fingers. For a strong gym user like me that was well and truly fucking embarrassing. Maybe I’d had a stroke? It seemed the only logical explanation at the moment. The exertion of trying to move caused a spinning darkness to fog my already tired brain, and as much as I wanted to see Stella, I decided that perhaps I should just sleep for a little bit longer …
