Sunday, 13 January 2013

Chapter 37


My little patient, quickly named 'babygirl' while waiting for someone to name her properly, grew increasingly stronger and more stable during the first week of her life. But she also made it clear that she needed human contact, she needed someone, and I found myself spending every night at the hospital with her that first week. During the days and evenings there were enough people around to keep her relatively happy, but during the night the staff was at a minimum. It was as if she didn't like the quiet and the dark, maybe it made her feel even more lonely. If I tried staying away, her condition would deteriorate slowly, her body temperature and oxygen levels dropping. I got into a rhythm of spending my nights at the hospital acting as human incubator, feeder and changer of tiny diapers. I dragged myself home zombie-like in the morning, sleep until late afternoon and then tried to do things like eat and spend time with James. Then I went back to the hospital, preparing for another night in the high-backed rocking chair. James amazed me by being supportive about the situation, he knew it was for a short period of time and that it would drive me up the walls not being able to help her. He worried about me, that I would exhaust myself and he helped in what little ways he could; by making food for me and doing things around the house. It surprised me that the hospital management was equally supportive, I had expected grumblings about nurses 'doing whatever they liked' and 'giving patients special treatment'. Contrary to what I had expected my boss turned out to be full of praise and gratuity for my 'extra efforts', as she put it.
After eight days babygirl finally managed an entire night on her own in the incubator without me having to be there, and I felt I could breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe she would finally be stable now? She was putting on weight and getting better with the bottle. I went back to my normal work routine, but she was still my patient and I kept worrying about her. The authorities nor the adoption agency had managed to find any suitable adoptive parents yet.
Having gone back to my normal work routine, caught up on some sleep and managed to shift my sleeping pattern back the right way around, James and I decided to make that date night of ours happen. I was giddy about it, excited about dressing up, having good food and spend the evening with James. We were going to Gordon Ramsay's restaurant in Chelsea, a place so posh it was actually quite terrifying. I entered the kitchen and found James leaning on the kitchen counter immersed in his phone. He had already showered and was dressed in a suit jacket, a blue, patterned shirt and dark blue jeans. He looked smart and handsome, and my heart did a little extra flutter at the sight of him.
«Is this okay? Will they let me in wearing this?» I fretted. James eyed me up and down slowly, taking in my black pumps and my dress; it had a v-neck, was thigh-length and waisted, made out of black lace with a cream fabric underneath. Then he slipped the phone into his pocket and made his way across the kitchen to me.
«You're absolutely perfect. Of course they'll let you in – they let me in! I'm not sure I'm able to let you out of this house, though..» He said warningly, leaning in and nuzzling my neck, taking in my perfume. «Not without ravishing you first.»
«Behave or I'll have to hose you down, May. We're being picked up in ten minutes,» I giggled, pushing him away gently. He sighed and straightened up.
«This is going to be a long night.»
«You look very, very handsome...» I smirked, pulling him in for a kiss by the lapels.
«Mm, thank you. Now I'm going to have to take a few steps back or we'll never make it out of this house,» he warned.
Arriving at the restaurant half an hour later I had my first proper taste of what it was like being with someone who was a 'celebrity'. Photographers were always milling around prestigious restaurants like these because the rich and famous often frequented them. As the driver dropped us off by the entrance they swooped on us, flashes going off all around us. James held my hand tightly in a reassuring grip as he greeted the press politely, but he didn't engage in any conversation with any of them even though they were all shouting at him or attention. I nearly froze when someone shouted my name as well, then remembered it being mentioned in the Top Gear News, that we were 'official' now and that the media were bound to have made a note of it. I felt myself smiling embarrassedly and blushing violently as I almost stumbled after James who was making his way resolutely towards the restaurant entrance. When we entered the restaurant I had to blink rapidly to chase away the blind spots the flashes had caused. Once safely inside James turned to me, looking tense and worried.
«You okay?» He asked, looking at me with concern in his eyes. My considerate, understanding James. He knew this was a completely new situation for me, and probably remembered how it had been for him the first few times he'd had to deal with photographers like this.
«Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,» I smiled, still blinking rapidly. «Just.. partly blind.»
«I'm sorry about that, I wish you didn't have to deal with things like these. It just sort of... comes with the territory,» he shrugged.
«It's fine, I can take it,» I assured him, running a hand over his cheek. «I would have put up with far worse things as long as I could be with you.» James blinked a few times, not knowing how to respond to that. Not finding his words he gave up and kissed me lovingly. A waiter, or whatever they're called in those types of places, appeared and we were shown to our table. I felt incredibly out of place, the restaurant was fantastic and everyone in it seemed to come straight out of a fashion magazine, impeccably dressed and gorgeous. Several times I had to whisper to James and ask him to translate what was on the menu, haute cuisine not exactly being my usual diet. All of the food was so beautifully arranged I nearly felt bad for eating it. But everything tasted amazing and the wine was great. Even Gordon himself was present at the restaurant that night, and came out to say hello and chat to James since he'd appeared on one of Gordon's tv-series once. Having only seen the angry, shouty, mean version of him on telly I nearly jumped in my chair and flinched when the chef turned to greet me. Gordon turned out to be an incredibly nice, warm guy, which reminded me that I shouldn't always judge people on what they were like on TV. After three courses, dessert and two bottles of wine we decided it might be time to get home. We were too full and tipsy to be out in public. All I wanted to do was unzip my dress and sprawl on the sofa in a very unladylike manner.
When we got home we turned on some music, found some beer and sank down on the sofa. Like we were in a bad sitcom we both sighed contentedly and put our feet up on the table simultaneously.
«Oh god, what are we gonna be like in ten years?» I said when I had regained my breath from laughing. «Finishing each others sentences? Wearing matching track suits?»
«If that happens we must be shot,» James decided, and I agreed. A content and serene silence fell over us as we sat there, feeling full, enjoyably tipsy and happy.
«Emily!» James raised his voice a little and I snapped out of a reverie I hadn't been aware of being in. «I've just asked you to dance with me. Then I admitted to once having dressed up in your underwear. All to which you responded 'mhm'.»
«Hm? I.. what...» I babbled.
«Emily, what's going on? We've dressed up and gone to this fantastic restaurant, had amazing food, good wine.,. This should have been a great night, and I wish I could say that it has been, but it just hasn't. Mostly because I sometimes felt like I was having dinner on my own. All night you've barely said anything, you've seemed so... distant, like you're not really there.»
«Please tell me you didn't dress up in my underwear,» I pleaded, unable to rid myself of the unwanted mental image.
«You're avoiding the issue,» he said, scowling a little.
«Oh, James, I'm... I'm sorry. I've tried, James, I've tried all night to... be present and enjoy myself. I have enjoyed myself, but... I just can't get babygirl out of my head.» I had felt unfocused all night. Part of me really wanted to be with James and enjoy our date night to the fullest, but my mind had kept wandering. I had tried to hide it from James which I now realised was stupid, he knew me far too well for me to be able to pass that off.
«But.. I thought she was doing well? What's wrong?»
«She is doing well,» I confirmed. «Really well, actually. It's just... they still haven't found any adoptive parents for her, and it's driving me mad! It just kills me seeing her incubator with no name tag on it yet, no parents fussing over her... I can't accept that I saved her life only for her to grow up in an orphanage, bounced from foster family to foster family... That can't be what I saved her life for! That isn't a life! I'm responsible for that, that's on me.»
«Oh, Emily... I understand that you feel like she's your responsibility, but.. You're taking care of her, as your patient. The adoption people will find someone, some couple is bound to want her.»
«And what if they don't?» I argued stubbornly.
«I don't know, Emily,» James shrugged and put a soothing hand no my knee.
«I'm not letting that happen. She's alive because of me, that makes her my responsibility!»
«I just don't see what more can you do for her..»
«Well, if they can't find somebody then..... Then I'll bloody take her!» I snapped. James' hand disappeared from my knee and I looked over to him. He'd straightened up in his seat and looked perplexed.
«Don't you think that's a decision you need to discuss with me first?» He said, I heard in his voice that he was angry but trying to keep his calm.
«I.. I know, James, I know, of course...» I apologised. It was my turn to put a hand on his knee. «I didn't-- I wasn't serious, I'm just worried. And desperate. And I can't get away from the feeling that it's somehow my fault, my responsibility that she's lying there, all alone.. I mean, she's alive, but she has no one.»
«Emily, she's only been at the hospital for two weeks. From what you've told me she'll be there for at least another three or four. They will find parents for her, you have to believe that. And in the meantime, she has you.» James spoke calmly, his hand caressing my upper arm soothingly. I looked into James' piercing, blue eyes, they were calm and spoke of love and understanding. Without at word I got up and walked over to the stereo, finding a slow song on the iPod. Walking back towards James I saw him studying me, a curious little frown on his face. I came to a halt in front of him and held out a hand.
«Could I have that dance now? Please?» James' expression softened. He took my hand and got up from the sofa.
«Of course, sweetheart,» he smiled. His arm closed around my lower back, pulling me close. I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and rested my hand on his neck, caressing and playing with his hair just as I had done the first time we had danced.
«James, I'm sorry...» I began, suddenly remembering what James had said to me earlier and feeling a horrible pang of guilt. «I'm sorry about tonight, I'm sorry that I ruined it.»
«Rubbish, you didn't ruin it,» James protested mildly, but I continued.
«And I'm sorry about having been so preoccupied, about getting so caught up in work. I have been a rubbish girlfriend, I haven't paid you enough attention, love. I'm sorry for that too.»
«We've both been caught up with work lately.»
«James, why do you even put up with me? I feel like I've done nothing by apologise to you lately,» I sighed, feeling disappointed with myself.
«Put up with you?» James repeated, sounding incredulous. «Emily, I don't have to put up with you. You have no idea how lucky I feel for having you in my life. Yes, all right, so you do get a little carried away sometimes and you care too much, about your patients, about a lot of things, but... That is one of the reasons I fell in love with you. How passionate you are, and the fact that you have such a big heart.» I blinked rapidly, feeling my eyes well up with tears.
«You're too good to me,» I whispered and pulled him in for a long kiss. «I love you.»

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