Chapter 50

James knocked quietly on the door and listened intently for a reply. Everything was quiet inside. Thinking Emily might be asleep he gently opened the door and peered inside. There was a little corridor with a door leading off to what he assumed was a bathroom. The hospital bed was half-hidden and he had to walk inside the room to look around the corner and see the entire room. Just as he peeked around the corner to find that the room was empty, he heard the tap running in the bathroom. James froze in the middle of the floor. What should he do? Go sit down? Knock on the bathroom door, make himself known? Or run out of the room and give her the chance to deny him entrance? He would look like such a clot if he tried retreating and was caught. Unable to make a decision he stayed rooted to the spot, staring hypnotized at the door.

Coming out of the bathroom I noticed a shape in the corner of my eye made that me stop in the doorway and look up. James was staring at me, like a deer caught in the headlights, wide-eyed and wound like a spring. For a moment I was unable to do anything but stare back at him, at his face that still had a tan from being in Africa, and his over-long hair which he obviously hadn't gotten around to sort out yet.
«James...» I began, hearing the surprise in my own voice. As I said so I took an aimless, distracted step forward. «Ow! Fuck! God damn it..!» When I had gone to the bathroom I'd just taken the IV bag with me and hanged it on the towel hook. It was still there, but the tube had got caught on the sink. The tape holding the cannula in place had began falling off in places, and when I had taken a step forwards the tube was stretched taught and yanked the peripheral cannula, and the tape holding it in place, right off my arm. The pain of it made me swear loudly out of pure instinct. With James being there I had reverted to swearing in English without even thinking about it. I spun around and saw the IV tubing lying on the floor, dripping blood and Ringer solution onto the floor. I quickly closed off the drip and picked the tube up off the floor. Then I noticed the pools of blood on the floor, and something warm and wet trickle over my fingers.
«What did you do?!» James' voice was somewhere between exasperation and panic as he looked over my shoulder into the bathroom. I yanked a few paper towels out of the dispenser and held it against the bleed.
«I moved, IV tube got caught on something and it yanked the thing out,» I said with a tired sigh, looking from the bloody mess on the floor to James. He seemed worried as his eyes darted from my face to my hand to the blood on the floor.
«The thing..?» He said a little confused.
«You know, the...» I held out my hand, gesturing to the tube, trying to make him understand. «The thing, the.. injection valve!» I rambled, so distracted by James' presence that I had lost most of my vocabulary.
«... Injection valve?» James repeated dryly, I could tell by the look on his face he was trying to bite back an amused smirk.
«Peripheral cannula! That's the word,» I said, suddenly remembering. Then it was like all the air went out of me. «Ugh, I need to sit down.» I hobbled past James and sat down on the bed. I didn't know what had made me light-headed, if it was just the trip to the bathroom or the shock of James' sudden appearance. The hospital bed's adjustable back was raised into as half-sitting position and I slumped back against it and breathed heavily, still feeling dizzy. James trailed nervously after me, not quite sure what to do with himself. I nodded weakly to the chair by the bed, signalling that it was OK for him to sit down. Thinking I better tell the nurses about my little accident I pressed the call button. He sank down on the chair and looked at me silently for a long time, concern and sadness written all over his face. The silence between us was opressive and heavy, and I had no idea how to break it. I wouldn't know what to say, I couldn't even decide if I was angry or sad or happy to see him. Just as he opened his mouth he was interrupted by the door opening. A nurse came in, stopping a little in her tracks as she saw the unfamiliar man by my bedside. She raised a quizzical, but discreet eyebrow at him without James noticing.
«He's the, um... the father,» I told her in Norwegian, not quite sure how else to title him.
«Oh, right,» she said with an understanding smile.
«Listen, I'm sorry, I sort of managed to yank my needle out,» I said apologetically, holding up my bloodied hand. «I should probably get another one in. Oh, and the bathroom looks like I've slaughtered something.»
«Oh, okay. Yeah, we should get another cannula in, but.. Maybe I should wait until you two have had a moment to talk...?» The nurse suggested delicately, expertly picking up on the awkward, tense mood in the room. «Not like there's any rush with that drip, it'll be up all night anyway. I'll sort the bathroom out later.»
«Okay...» I nodded and the nurse disappeared. James looked at me with raised eyebrows, expecting a translation.
«I need a new cannula in, but she was a bit busy right now...» I lied, gesturing to the bloody hand. «There's no rush anyway, it's just... saline, really. Electrolytes.» James just nodded, not saying anything. I couldn't tear my eyes away from James, wondering what was going to happen. Was he angry with me? Or just sad and disappointed? Why had he come here?
«God, you're a bloody mess,» James finally said with a sympathetic sigh, looking at my lower arm and hand which was covered in quickly drying blood. James' sudden arrival had made me so flustered and distracted I had forgotten all about it. There was a fresh wash cloth and a towel hanging off a little sink in the corner, he walked over to it and turned on the taps, letting it run a little to warm up before soaking the wash-cloth in water. Wordlessly he sat back down on the chair and began cleaning it off. I let him do it, watching him as he gently and tenderly cleaned my hand and wrist. My mind was still reeling from having suddenly found James in my hospital room. My emotions hadn't caught up with reality yet, and I still didn't know how to feel about him being here. The blood and the wash-cloth brought back memories I hadn't considered for months. I cleared my throat before breaking the silence.
«So, I've been trying to suss this one out...,» I began. «What is a long-haired, British television presenter doing in a Norwegian medical ward?» Already while I was mid-sentence James had started smiling, remembering the conversation we'd had the first day we met. James' eyes flicked up to me, then went back to focusing on my hand.
«I guess the roles have been reversed,» he admitted with a slow nod, his eyes a little unfocused as he too seemed to be reliving the memories. «This time you're the one in a hospital bed and I'm the one cleaning the blood.»
«Well... I've always said you'd be a good nurse,» I said quietly. He smiled and gave a little nod, flicking his eyes up to mine again for a moment.
«They've just put blood into you, you shouldn't go spilling it everywhere,» James observed dryly. Before I even had time to stop myself I let out a snort of laughter. He continued meticulously cleaning my hand, experiencing for himself just how stubborn dried blood can be. I was grateful for the silence, my thoughts were spinning but I was constantly distracted by James' touch. When my arm and hand was clean he gently wrapped the towel around it, drying it off properly, then discarded the used towel and bloody cloth into the sink, still holding my clean hand in one of his. I watched as his thumb began caressing the skin on my knuckles, gently and tentatively. The feel of James' familiar, loving touch instantly caused a painful, sour lump to swell in my throat, his touch brought out so much sadness and longing. And hurt. Unwilling to cry I pulled my hand away from him, knowing that if I cried now I would break down completely. I didn't have the strength for that, I'd had too many of them lately. I felt worn thin, like one more breakdown would truly break me. James' eyes lingered at his own, now empty hand. Then he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, sitting up a little straighter before looking at me.
«Emily, I...» He began, then hesitated. «I don't know how to say this...» That was all it took for my heart to plummet to the floor and my eyes to well up with tears. A horrible, icy wave washed through me as all my fears began spinning around in my head. Was this it? Had he come here to end this? Once and for all? Was he really leaving me? Or maybe he thought that had I left him? Had I? Maybe this was already over? James sighed, closed his eyes for a second, shook his head a little and began again.
«Emily, I'm so sorry. That night I came home... I'm sorry for everything. For the way I reacted, for all the things I said. I was exhausted, the last bit of that trip was a nightmare and I was so worried about what was going on with you. I hadn't slept for a few days, I couldn't think straight. What you told me... I was so shocked, and I just panicked. Everything I said, it just... I didn't mean any of it, everything just came out wrong.»
«No, James, what you said was honest.» I said stubbornly, refusing to look at him. It wasn't going to be this easy, I wasn't going to let it, he couldn't just come here and say he was sorry and that he didn't mean it. Something must have caused him to say the things he did apart from exhaustion and worry.
«No, it wasn't!» He said adamantly, his voice a little shrill. «I was just fucking scared, and when people are scared they say a lot of stupid things they don't really mean. And I have a history of saying and doing stupid thing when I'm scared, we've established this,» he added with self-irony. For a moment I almost smiled, but I bit my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He studied me a little before continuing. «And I'm incredibly sorry that I left, I shouldn't have done that. I handled things awfully. I was exhausted, but that isn't an excuse because I know that you were exhausted, too. I couldn't think, I didn't think, I just had to sleep, try to get my head around it. I went to a hotel, took a few sleeping pills and slept until I checked out the next day. Then I went for some lunch because I was starving, and it gave me the chance to think for a bit. I didn't figure out much, just that I had been awful to you, and very unfair, the way I just dumped it all on you. I went out and bought some stupid flowers, and your favourite ice cream in case you weren't feeling too nauseous, and I went home to say sorry and to talk to you... And you'd gone.» His voice had been steady as he talked, but it cracked towards the end, giving away his sadness and guilt. I was surprised to find that what he had said had made me feel guilty too, I felt bad for not having given him a little more time to come around. I could only imagine how he had felt when he came home with his flowers and ice cream and the house had been empty. My house keys on the floor and no note. I knew had overreacted, just like he had, none of us had been thinking clearly. I still wasn't sure I was. I still felt angry for what he had said, for all the guilt and hurt he'd made me feel. «Emily, why did you just leave?» He asked, desperate to know the reason. His voice cracked again and his lower lip trembled as he added: «Were you never going to come back?»
«I just... couldn't sit there and wait for you to come back and throw me out.» I spoke as quickly as I could to get it out before the tears took over. I said it because it was the truth, it was what I had been most afraid of. And I wanted to be completely honest with him.
«Emily, I wouldn't have done that, I never would have...» His voice trailed off and he looked at me pleadingly, his eyes begging me to believe him. His arm twitched, as if he had been about to take my hand in his, but he stopped himself.
«I don't know, James, you seemed so... angry, like it was all my fault, like you hated me for...» My voice trailed off as I searched for words. «I never expected you to be thrilled, god knows I wasn't. But I had hoped for some understanding and some support. You've always been that way, understanding and supportive and calm. The way you reacted, it... I was so hurt and disappointed. I'd been terrified of how you were going to react, and all I wanted for weeks was for you to hold me and comfort me. So I ran, too...» I shrugged apologetically. «I didn't know where to go, Elin was the only one I could run to, really, she would at least understand about being pregnant. I guess she was the one who called you?»
«Yeah...» James admitted a little reluctantly. «She didn't want to, she felt bad about it, for going behind your back. But she felt she had to, she was worried about you and thought I ought to know you were here, what had happened.» At this I averted my eyes, feeling embarrassed about having landed myself in the hospital. James gave a long, sad sigh. I felt his eyes on me, looking at me searchingly, but I couldn't bring myself to look back at him.
«I thought about coming back, about calling you or... I know Elin tried to make me call you, too. I thought about it all the time. But I was just... scared. Maybe you were relieved that I'd left and taken my problem with me. Or maybe you didn't want to see me anymore because I had left...» I fiddled with the cover on my duvet as I spoke. This time James didn't stop himself, but took my hand in his to stop my nervous fiddling. I looked up and met his eyes.
«Do you really think I'd let go of you just like that?» He asked. The question was so simple, so innocent, yet it was more than enough to make me realise that my fears had been stupid, absurd even. The way he had said it made it so perfectly clear that he hadn't though about letting me go at all, not even once. It made me feel sad, ashamed that I hadn't had more faith in him, in us. He'd had a bad reaction, granted, but I was the one who had run away and shut him out this time. I was the one who had let fear take control of me. «How could you think that I didn't want to see you again? When I came home I tried calling you, over and over... I sent you about a million e-mails, I called hospitals, Cathy, Kellie..»
«I know, James, I know...» I said and squeezed his hand, willing him to stop talking. Hearing the desperate concern in James' voice made the guilt and regret swell painfully inside me. Silence fell between us again, and I found myself caressing James' hand with my thumb.
«So how are you feeling?» James asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. When I met his eyes again they were mild and full of worry and empathy.
«Like shit,» I grumbled and he laughed once through his nose. «I feel... weak. And tired. Blood transfusion did help perk me up a bit,» I conceded.
«And then you went and spilled it all on the floor,» James pointed out and we both snorted. Our eyes met, and James' expression turned serious again.
«Emily, what are you doing to yourself? Are you trying to hurt yourself? Or the baby..?» He looked scared, pale, absolutely sick with worry. Seeing him only made me feel more guilty. I felt bad for all the worry I had caused.
«No, no, James, it isn't like that, I promise...» I shook my head, and I knew that I had just lost the battle with my tears, but I kept talking. «I just... The nausea has been giving me so much trouble, but I thought I was doing okay, that I managed to eat or at least drink enough. I didn't realise how badly I was doing. My body's signals are all mixed up, I'm not feeling like myself...»
«Okay, okay,» James said soothingly, patting my hand, signalling that I didn't need to explain any more. He believed me. Now that the floodgates had opened I couldn't stop, pent up emotions crashed their way forward, willing themselves out; fear, longing, anxiety, guilt and sadness. I turned over on my side, curled up into a ball and cried. James inched his chair closer to the edge of the bed. I felt him running his hand over my hair and down my arm, then wrapped it around me as best he could from where he sat, stroking my back soothingly. There was great tenderness and care in everything he had done since he came to the hospital, like he wanted to show that he wasn't angry or upset, just worried and wanting to take care of me. This was what I had wanted from him when he came home from Africa. My James, calm and thoughtful, but always the worrier. «It's okay, Emily. It's okay...» When my sobs had died down I sniffed, sighed loudly and opened my eyes. James was resting his head on the mattress, looking straight at me with kind and worried eyes. «Hello,» he said mildly. His smile and his characteristic 'hello' caused me to smile a little crookedly back at him. Smiling even wider he tucked a few stray strands of hair behind my ear. He straightened up in his chair and his hand found mine again.
«Listen, Emily... Thank you for not... Clawing my eyes out today, or throwing me out... You would have had every right to, the way I acted towards you and the things I said was... unforgivable, really.» He stared into his lap as he spoke, guilt and shame shining through him. «And thank you for listening to me, for talking to me, you didn't have to do that.»
«I wouldn't have had the energy to claw your eyes out,» I retorted and laughed once, but turned serious when I saw the look on his face. «Oh, James... What I did wasn't exactly.. sensible or fair either. I guess we've both been a bit... inconsiderate and caught up in our own emotions.»
«I don't blame you for leaving, really...» James said quietly.
«But I'm sorry that I did,» I admitted. «.. I'm glad you came here.»
«Yeah?» James asked, raising his eyebrows in cautious hope.
«Yeah,» I said with a little smile. There was a soft knock on the door and the nurse from earlier entered.
«I'm sorry to bother you, but it's time for some food. Want me to get something for you?» She asked kindly.
«No, no, I'll go get something myself from the buffet,» I said. She nodded, turned on her heels and disappeared.
«Feeding time,» I explained to James as I sighed and sat up a little. «They've been pretty strict with mealtimes. I've lost weight and the nausea and anemia will just get worse if I don't eat.»
«Yes, you have to eat,» he pleaded, before admitting: «when I first saw you today you scared the hell out of me...»
«I know, I look like death,» I sighed, then swung my legs out of bed and got up. Instantly my knees buckled under me and I was hit by a massive wave of vertigo. Thankfully James had quick reflexes and caught me before I thundered to the floor. With his arms wrapped around me he held me upright and manoeuvred me onto the edge of the bed. Still holding me in his arms he sat down next to me. «Whoa... got up too fast,» I breathed, blinking rapidly as I tried to regain some sense of balance. «Fucks sake, I hate feeling this weak and useless,» I sulked and leaned into James, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my head against his neck. I breathed deeply, taking in the familiar smell of him, feeling how his presence calmed me.
«You're not useless. You're just not well,» James said in that calm, annoyingly reasonable tone that I just couldn't argue with. He hugged me tighter and kissed my forehead gently, obviously happy that I was seeking closeness and comfort in him. «Poor sweetie. Listen, I'll go get you some food, keep you company while you eat if you want to. Then I'll leave so you can get some rest, I think you need that. All right?» I nodded wordlessly but I didn't let go of him.
«Just... sit with me for a bit first, OK?»
«Okay.» James pulled me a little closer and rested his chin on the top of my head, holding me close and running his hand up and down my arm. I took a deep breath, feeling calmer than I had been for over a month, somehow feeling a little more like myself. After a long silence I loosened my grip on him a little and sat up straighter.
«Food?» He asked simply, smiling kindly and caressing my cheek with his thumb. Part of me wanted to kiss him, but I wasn't sure if I could. Or if he would want me to. So I held back, deciding to wait. I told James what I wanted from the buffet and gave him directions on where to find it, then rested back down on the bed, thinking it was the best place to stay. I pressed the button for the nurse again, and guessing what I had called her for she entered with all the equipment for inserting a new peripheral cannula. She organised all the things she needed then sat down on the chair James had just inhabited. While working on my arm, finding a vein, she looked up at me meaningfully.
«Everything okay?»
«Yeah, I'm fine, he's just off getting some food for me. I'm a bit dizzy,» I explained and gave a weak smile.
«That's the first time I've seen you smile properly since you came here,» she observed, and left it at that. The nurse was just re-hanging my drip when James entered with a tray full of food.
«Did you empty the entire buffet?» I teased.
«You're eating all of it, and that's that,» he said sternly as he set the tray down on my nightstand.
«He's right, you know. Good man, I like him,» the nurse said in english, pointing at him and giving him a smile before exiting the room. James kept me company while I ate, flicking through the channels on the TV but giving up as he realised it was all in Norwegian. Having finished nearly all my food I pushed the tray away and slumped back against the pillow, yawning a little. James registered the yawn and turned off the TV.
«Want me to bugger off and let you get some sleep?» He asked mildly.
«Both yes and no,» I said with a tired smile. «I wish you could stay, but sleepovers are frowned upon here.»
«They probably are,» he chuckled. «I'll see you tomorrow though? If you want to?»
«Of course,» I smiled drowsily. «Is my sister picking you up?»
«Yeah, I have to call her,» he said, obviously not having thought that far.
«Stay here until she's here, then?» Part of me didn't want to let him go, and I didn't have the heart to kick him out until I knew Elin was here to pick him up. James quickly called my sister who agreed to pick him up. «Tell her later that I'm not mad at her, will you?» I asked when James had hung up.
«She was worried that you would be,» James admitted.
«I know,» I said simply. She was after all my sister. I stretched out an arm towards James. Hesitantly, as if he was afraid he would be overstepping some sort of boundary, he took my hand in his, interlacing our fingers. His thumb caressed my hand like he had a habit of doing. For a long moment we just looked at each other, just needing to see each other, be with each other without saying anything.
«Go to sleep,» James said quietly, squeezing my hand a little. I closed my eyes, comforted by James' presence and his hand holding mine.