Restoring Grace (62 page)

She picked up a leftover
cheese straw and her hormones
had their
usual, lachrymose effect. As she sniffed, reached
for the kitchen towel and buried her nose in it, she allowed
a flicker of reality to penetrate: of course she was thinking
of
marriage; why else was she baking for him, cleaning for him, generally making
herself indispensable, quite
apart from
doing the things she was there to do, if not to
convince him that having
her around was a good thing? She shook her head hard, like a wet dog, and then
did the washing up.

*

Ellie fought off the feeling of being protected
and looked after that walking from the car to the hospital with Ran
beside her gave her. She couldn't afford feelings
like that.
They were only temporary;
she mustn't get used to them.

In her effort to keep a distance from him, she
kept
bumping into him, as if she couldn't
walk straight. By
the time they had found the right department, walking
several miles in the process, she was desperate to go to the loo. She had found
one and sat down before she remembered about the full bladder. But nothing
could
stop her now, and she only remembered about bringing
a urine sample when the last drops
had descended.

She washed her hands, feeling a fool on many
levels.
At least they were early, and there
might be time to make
reparation.

‘
I'm so
sorry,' she said to the woman at the desk, hoping
Ran had gone suddenly
deaf, 'I've just been to the loo.
And I
forgot to bring a sample. My appointment's at
quarter past.’

The woman
sighed and produced a paper cup and a sample tube. 'Goto the cafeteria and
drink as much as
 
you can. But do the sample
before you're desperate, and
then
drink some more. It's really important that you have
a full bladder.’

Ran's expression -
amusement, bafflement and,
strangely, sympathy - made Ellie
smile. 'To the cafeteria then?' he said.

‘Be back in half an hour. Otherwise you'll miss
your appointment. You're lucky we're running a bit late.’

Ellie fought back a childish desire to giggle.
'Yes,' she said, narrowly avoiding adding 'miss'.

‘
It was
silly of me to forget about the full bladder thing,'
she went on as they negotiated the many corridors
to the
cafeteria.

‘
Well, never
mind. I'm sure we can soon fill it up again.
Goodness me, look at those
people out there.’

He indicated a couple of people sitting in
wheelchairs, buried in blankets, hooked up to all sorts of drips and machines,
smoking.

‘Did you used to smoke, Ran?'

‘Uh huh. Still do, in my dreams.'

‘It's awfully silly to smoke, especially when
you're ill, but I did always suspect that smokers have more fun.'

‘It may seem like that, but it isn't really.
Ah, it's down here. Now, what do you fancy drinking? Not coffee, obviously.
Tea? Something cold and fizzy?’

Ellie settled for tea and got through two cups
of the not-quite-hot-enough brew before she retreated to the Ladies with her
cup and her bottle.

‘
So, is your
bladder still full?' asked Ran in what
seemed to be a very loud voice.

‘No! Of course not! I can't just do a sample
and then
stop! I'm sure I should be able to,
but you'd need to train
for it, and I haven't.'

‘Have another cup of tea, then.'

‘
Lager always
makes me want to pee very quickly after
I've drunk it.'

'Let's sneak off to the pub, then.'

‘Good idea! I've done my sample, so they
shouldn't be able to tell.’

They hurried out of the building, through the
miles of corridors, Ellie feeling horribly furtive, as if she was escaping from
something. The woman at the desk had obviously triggered ideas about prison
warders, compulsory cold showers and enemas. Fortunately there was a pub right
opposite the hospital.

‘A pint of lager and a half a Guinness,' said
Ran. 'And a packet of crisps.'

‘
I'll never
drink a whole pint! Not in ten minutes! And
I really shouldn't be drinking alcohol while I'm pregnant.'

‘
I'm sure
it can't do you that much harm. Now drink up.'

‘It's hard to drink when you're not thirsty.'

‘Not for lots of people, it isn't. It's
depressingly easy. Have a crisp. It'll inspire you.’

Ellie took a couple of large gulps, paused, and
then
took another couple. 'It's silly, but I
really feel I'm
drowning.' She concealed a belch behind her hand. 'Oh
no. That's all I need. Wind!'

‘Come on, drink up.’

Manfully,
she got about half a pint of lager down. 'Is your bladder full?’

Ellie shrugged. 'It doesn't feel it, but I'm
sure it will by the time I get back to the unit. You know how it is, you go to
the loo before you leave the pub, but you're still bursting to go by the time
you get home.' She frowned. 'Oh. That's not what we're talking about, is it?'

‘
Not
quite. But I'm not taking any chances. Have another go at finishing your
drink.'

‘
Ran,' she
suggested, 'you're not trying to get me drunk
so you can have your evil
way with me?'

‘In your dreams, sweetheart. Now drink up.’

*

Ellie was not only bursting to go to the loo,
but also felt distinctly tipsy by the time she got back to the fierce
woman at the desk. She handed over her sample,
relieved
it would be mostly caffeine and not lager.

‘We're running even later, I'm afraid,' said
the woman. 'Just sit down over there. Won't be long.’

Ellie sat down, grateful
the chairs were made of plastic.
'I hope I don't have to wait long,
I'm bursting!'

‘Well, cross your legs or something. I'm not
taking you to the pub again.'

‘I'm not supposed to cross my legs. The doctor
told me it would give me varicose veins or thrombosis or something.’

Ran sighed. 'Press your knees together then. It
would be good practice for you.' His dry tone belied the twinkle in his eye.

‘Ran! You are so unfair!' she squeaked. 'Does
it show
that I'm drunk,' she added, in a
stage whisper that wasn't
as quiet as she'd intended it to be.

‘Not if you don't tell everyone, it doesn't.'

‘Have you got a mint, or something? I don't
want them to smell it on my breath. They'll take the baby away at birth and put
it in rehab.'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘I may be getting muddled up with the babies of
heroin addicts. Not alcoholics.'

‘You are not an alcoholic! Haven't you got
anything in your bag? Girls always have sweets in their bags.'

‘I am not a girl,' said Ellie solemnly, 'I'm a
pregnant
woman. But I might have something
minty in there.' She
opened her bag
and rummaged about for a few moments.
'I can't seem to see anything. You
look.’

He took hold of her bag. 'Ah, here we are,' he
said, triumphantly producing an indigestion tablet. 'It was behind the hot
tap.'

‘What? Don't confuse me. It's not fair.'

‘Behind the hot tap of the kitchen sink you've
got in there.’

Ellie took the tablet and her bag back sulkily.
'It's all useful stuff.'

‘Well, I'm sure there is a use for till
receipts, but I've never found one.'

‘
Ah ha!'
she said triumphantly. 'I keep those so you can
pay me back for the
groceries I buy.'

‘But I do pay you back.'

‘
But you only
take my word for it. You should have
the receipt.'

‘You don't lie to me, do you?'

‘
No,' she
said, almost on a sob. 'Ran, if I don't go to
the loo soon, I'm going to
die.’

He put his arm round her and held her to him.
'Not long now, poppet. You just clench yourself together and think of England.'

‘
But
England's awfully wet,' she muttered into his coat.

When her name was finally
called, she didn't think she
could walk without Ran's support.
Somehow she got to the desk.

‘You wait here, Ran. I don't suppose I'll be
long,' she said.

‘Nonsense,' said the nice, smiley woman in the
white
coat who had appeared to collect her.
'I'm sure he wants
to see the baby. Don't you?' she asked Ran.

‘Yes, I do. I've done all the boring part,' he
said firmly. 'I don't want to miss out on the main event.'

‘But he's not the father . .

The woman paused. 'Who are you then?'

‘
I'm a
close friend and a responsible adult. Come along,
Ellie.’

Chapter Twenty-seven

 
Relieved
of scan duty by Ellie, Grace contemplated her situation. She was beginning to
get extremely cold. She
had clothes
upstairs, but not many as most of her things
were at Flynn's. Besides,
she couldn't find where she should turn the water off. And Flynn would know of
a
plumber who wouldn't rip her off. She
decided to go
home.

The thought alone shocked
her. She'd thought of Flynn's
house as home!
She paused in turning her car round. No,
it
wasn't the house that was home, it was Flynn.

He happened to be in the hall when she opened
the
front door. The moment he had taken in
what she looked
like, he laughed.

‘It's not funny! I'm soaked to the skin and
freezing' to death!'

‘It is funny. You've got plaster all over you.
What happened?'

‘It's all your fault!' said Grace. 'Or Pete's.'

‘What is? Shall we continue this conversation
in the bathroom?’

She allowed herself to be
led upstairs while she related
her grievances. 'I just went into
the kitchen to see the
Rayburn - which was
alight - and noticed a puddle on
the kitchen floor. It was coming from
the ceiling!'

‘What was? Come into my bathroom, it's bigger.'

‘
The water!
There was a huge bulge in the ceiling, drip
ping. I had to do something.'

‘And you poked it with a broom? Here, I'll turn
on the taps. And you might like some bubbles or something.’

‘How did you guess about the broom? Anyway, it
all came down on top of me.'

‘That's awful.' He was unbuttoning her cardigan
and
pulling off her jumper, murmuring, as if
he were
grooming a horse.

‘And I didn't know where to turn the water off,
so it's still dripping on to the kitchen floor.'

‘
That's so
dreadful.' He lifted her feet so she could step
out of her skirt.

‘Just as well it's got good honest tiles on it,
and no poncy under-floor heating!'

‘That is a good thing.' He eased off her shoes,
one by one.

‘I'll have to get the ceiling replastered now.'

‘
Mm. You
will.' He slid her tights and pants easily down
over her hips.

Without really noticing how it happened, Grace
found herself naked, in his arms. 'It'll be an awful job painting it,' she
said, trying for insouciance.

‘
It will,'
he agreed politely 'Now, what would you like
in your bath, bubbles or
bath oil?'