Seven Days: The Complete Story (43 page)

Valerie pats
my arm. “I’ll be here for a while yet, Sadie. I have to check the
position of the baby and see how dilated you are now, so it might
be best if your friend goes for a walk anyway. Unless she’s good
with internal exams?”

“Ugh, no
thanks.” Emily waves her hand and makes for the door. “Do you want
me to check on Hottie McTottie while I’m downstairs?”

“I wish you
wouldn’t call him that. Valerie will think I only want him for his
body.”

“When we all
know it’s for his money.”

I roll my
eyes. “It’s not like that at all, Valerie. Nicholas is the most
amazing man. I wouldn’t care if he was a pauper.”

In between my
contractions and the exam, where Valerie confirms I’m five
centimetres dilated— this baby is waiting for nobody, it seems— I
tell the nurse about how Nicholas and I met. When you put it all
together and leave out the ugly but crucial pieces, it almost
sounds like the perfect romance.

“We had
intentions of getting married on that same stretch of beach in a
few weeks time,” I say. “But I guess we’ll be putting that off for
the time being.”

“Not to worry,
my love. There’s plenty of time for weddings. And if you get
married later your figure will be back to normal, so you’ll have a
greater choice of gowns.”

“Nicholas will
be upset. I think he’s hoping my boobs will stay this way
forever.”

The nurse
chuckles again. “Most men do. It’s the nature of the beast.”

At that
moment, the obstetrician arrives. He’s dressed like I’ve dragged
him away from a game of tennis. We chat for a few minutes and he
decides that given that my contractions are so close together, I
should stay put in the delivery suite. He thinks it’s too late to
try and delay the labour. I’m too far along. He listens to the
baby’s heart beat. It’s strong and regular and the doctor smiles at
me, but it doesn’t help. My baby is going to be born early.
Premmies can have all sorts of complications. I am not ready for
this.

Oh geez, now
I’m freaking out.

Freaking.

Out.

Where the hell
is Nicholas?

After the
doctor is gone, Valerie tidies up and helps me change out of my
yoga pants and into a loose fitting gown. It has no back and the
entire world can see my bum, should they care to look.

“Now, can I
get you anything else before I go to do my rounds? A heat pack,
some ice chips?”

“I might take
a walk around if that’s okay?”

“It’s your
labour, Sadie, you do what’s best for you. I’ll be in to check on
you again soon, but ring the bell if you need me and if you’re
going for a walk don’t go too far away.”

“I won’t.”

I have no
intention of going anywhere with my butt hanging out. I am waiting
right here until Nicholas and my baby arrive. I’ll simply wear a
track around the room.

*****

At exactly
12.01am the following morning, after hours of non-stop excruciating
labour, our baby is delivered via forceps. He’s a darling bundle
with dark hair like his father and the same olive skin. I think his
deep blue eyes, that look at me so intently minutes after he’s
born, will stay that colour. They’re his father’s eyes. Nicholas
blue, that’s what they are.

Our baby
heralds his entrance into the world with a wail so loud it leaves
no doubt his lungs are in perfect working order and though he
weighs a teeny two thousand, four hundred and two grams, the doctor
assures me that’s a healthy weight considering he’s seven weeks
early. His skin is a good colour and he’s already tried to suckle,
so that means I can kangaroo him by carrying him around in a little
pouch close to my skin for as much of the day as possible. In a few
days, after the doctors are satisfied with his progress, we can go
home. I can’t wait to show him his room and pick out a name. We
still haven’t chosen a name.

I lie in bed
in my private room in a sort of euphoric daze. I’m in love all over
again but this time it’s a different kind of love. I can’t believe,
despite the ferocity and swiftness of the delivery I did it without
the assistance of drugs, that I pushed this little being into the
world. I brush a finger across the crown of his head, careful not
to wake him. I smell his new baby smell and I ponder at how I did
this and how, after one or two hours I can already feel so much
love for him. Then, after the night nurse has been in to check on
us and taken the baby for a while, I drift into sleep. I hope
Nicholas comes soon. I got his voicemail when I sneakily turned on
my phone. He said he was on the way.

“Sadie, Sadie.
Wake up.”

The gentle
pressure of someone touching my shoulder rouses me. I rub the
tiredness from my eyes and blink, trying to focus and recalibrate
my brain into remembering where I am. My eyes feel gritty and my
mouth is awfully dry. I mustn’t have been out of it for that long,
just long enough for someone to have filled my head with sand.

Squinting, I
look about the room. The blind is drawn and a nurse stands beside
the bed, pointing a small torch toward the floor. Her face is calm,
yet super serious, and it makes me worry. A baby is crying. That
makes me worry more.

“What time is
it?” I ask, shuffling up in the bed. My entire body is aching. I
must have strained every muscle possible giving birth. Even my
eyelashes are hurting.

“About three.”
She confirms the time on the watch at her breast. I’ve never
actually seen one of those watches in real life. I thought they
were something from movies.

“Is it time to
feed the baby?”

The nurse’s
face is soft, caring, but she shakes her head. “Not yet. You need
to come with me. There’s been an accident.”

I sit bolt
upright. My body tenses with fear. “Not my baby?”

“
Shhh
.
No. He’s fine. He’s in the nursery. The night girls are in love
with him already, little monkey. You’ll have to fight them to get
him back.”

But she said
something was wrong. If it’s not the baby then what?

“I don’t
understand.”

“There was an
accident,” the nurse repeats.

It’s now I
feel the blood drain from my face. Suddenly, my heart is thudding
in my chest, it’s trying to leap out of my throat. I’m cold. So
cold. I begin to shiver. I hear my voice, a mere squeak, asking if
it’s Nicholas. He should have been here by now, his message said he
was on the way but that was ages ago. It’s hard to know if I’m
actually speaking my ears are ringing so.

“It’s Mr
Lawson,” the nurse confirms. “We weren’t sure to begin with. He had
no ID on him. The police went through the contacts on his phone and
your name came up in the recent calls. Luckily, admissions was able
to put two and two together.”

I can’t
breathe. I can’t swallow. I am going to die. “Is he alive?”

“He’s in
ICU.”

“How long’s he
been there?”

“A few hours.
He was unconscious when he came in and the doctors took him
straight into surgery but he’s awake now. He’s asking for you.”

All this time
Nicholas needed me and I was lying here eating sandwiches in the
dark and drinking cups of tea. I was planning what I’d wear for the
baby’s christening, for Christ sake. How did I not know? We’re
meant to be soul mates. How could I not know Nicholas was hurt? I
throw back the bed covers and swing my legs onto the floor. “Take
me to him.”

“Sadie, slow
down. You’ll be no good to Nicholas if you burst your stitches and
can’t walk.”

She’s right,
of course.

“Let’s get a
dressing gown on and I’ll take you to see him.”

I swipe the
nurse’s hand away and grab my dressing gown from the end of the
bed. “Fuck the stitches. I need to see Nicholas now. I need to tell
him I didn’t mean it. I need to show him our baby. Nicholas is
meant to help me choose a name.” I’m darting hysterically round the
room, grabbing my hairbrush and ripping it through my hair. I’m
searching for socks because in my panic to pack I forgot any type
of footwear other than the sneakers I had on when I got here. “I
want the baby. Get me the baby.”

“Sadie, calm
down.”

“I can’t. I
have to get to Nicholas now. Don’t you understand?”

By this time
Emily has woken up and is stretching her cricked neck side to side.
In the semidarkness she looks from the nurse to me. “What’s going
on?”

“It’s
Nicholas. He’s hurt.” I open the door to my room.

“Sadie! Come
back. You don’t know where you’re going.”

I stop.
Fucking shitty, shit, shit. Why does everyone else have to be my
voice of reason?

“Well, hurry
up then.”

The nurse
brings a wheelchair and I flop into it for the second time in
twenty four hours. This time I don’t care who sees me. I grip
Emily’s hand as we head along the corridor and down in the elevator
to Intensive Care. All I want is to be with Nicholas and tell him I
love him.

*****

The Intensive
Care Unit is deathly quiet, possibly because most of the people in
it are near death but I’m trying not to think about that. Nicholas
is alive and that’s all that matters.

Before I’m
allowed to see him I have to have an inane conversation with a
doctor. I don’t care about his injuries now, there’s plenty of time
for talk later. All I want is to be with Nicholas. I have to be
with Nicholas.

“Nicholas was
hit by a car that lost control on the wet road,” the doctor tells
us.

I tap my
fingers against the arm of the wheelchair.

“We haven’t
been able to piece the story together as yet but there’s been no
rain for weeks. The first rains always make the road slippery. The
driver, a girl in her first year of driving, is distraught. She’s
down in emergency at the moment.”

She’ll be
worse than distraught if I get hold of her. Nobody should be
driving at speeds so fast they send someone else’s body flying
through traffic on impact.

The doctor
continues, “Nicholas has extensive internal injuries. We’ve
operated to control the bleeding around the heart and lungs but the
next twenty-four hours are crucial. He’s lost a lot of blood, so
we’re giving him a transfusion. He also has multiple lacerations to
his head and body. I’m concerned about brain trauma. Prepare
yourself, he’s pretty banged up. Try not to look too surprised. We
don’t want to alarm him.”

I nod slowly.
This can’t be happening. It can’t.

“Will he be
okay?”

“As I said,
the next twenty-four hours are crucial but…”

I swallow.
Bile rises in my throat. I cannot lose Nicholas.

There’s one
visitor allowed on the ward at a time, so Emily waits in the
waiting room while the doctor wheels me through a heavy set of
double doors and past a nurses station. As we wheel along the row
of cubicles, each with its own bed, the curtains separating them
billow behind us. They’re that awful cabbage green colour they make
curtains in hospitals, and for some reason I find myself wondering
why they couldn’t have made them a prettier shade. Nicholas likes
blue. Why can’t the curtains be blue?

God, this
place is awful. It’s depressing. I have to get Nicholas out of
here.

The doctor
pauses at the end of the row. There’s a bed and I can see Nicholas’
feet under the white cover of the blanket. He’s very still. A huge
desk masks the rest of him from my view. A nurse, wearing baggy
green scrubs, is writing something on the chart. She looks over at
me and smiles. “I’ll give you two some space. Do you want me to
take the baby?”

Stupid
question. I hug the baby to me.

“It’s fine. He
wants to meet his daddy.” Slowly, I raise myself from the
chair.

The doctor
whispers, “I know you want to talk to him, Sadie, but take it easy.
He needs rest. A lot of it.”

“Okay.” I nod
again and walk slowly toward the head of the bed where I collapse
into a chair. The act of walking is tiring so soon after giving
birth, it seems.

Then we are
alone. Well, apart from the beeping and weeping and the quiet
shuffling of the nurses.

I place my
hand on Nicholas’ forehead, smoothing his brow. I study his face.
It’s black and blue near his temple and they’ve shaved off some of
his hair to stitch up one of the lacerations. His lip is swollen. I
want to kiss it better but I fear I’ll hurt him.

Oh Nicholas,
my darling Nicholas.

His eyelids
flutter and open. “Sadie?”

“It’s me.
Shhh
. Rest. The doctor says you have to rest.” I lean a
little closer and take his hand in mine. Gently, I lift it to the
bump on my chest, placing it on the baby’s head. “It’s our baby,
Nicholas. He came early but he’s here and he wants to say hi to his
daddy.”

“Show me.”

I unstrap the
baby from my chest and place him gently in the crook of Nicholas’
arm. I cover them both with the blanket. Oh, to be there right now.
In the bed with him. If only we could go back to yesterday morning
where we were cuddled up in bed with me in that very same position.
“You okay? It’s not hurting?” I ask.

“Not at all.”
Nicholas looks down at his son and his eyes fill with tears. “He’s
beautiful.”

“He’s like
you. So,” I say as brightly as I can, “I’ve been thinking about
names.”

Nicholas turns
his head to face me and as I entertain him with all the silly names
Emily and I came up with during my labour, I see him smile. A
little. It’s his Nicholas smile, the one I love.

“Was it hard?”
he asks.

“What?
Choosing names?”

“The labour,
you dope.”

“Brutal. I
swore like a bitch.”

“I’m sorry I
wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay.
You were tied up at the time. And Emily distracted me by attempting
the breathing thing. Hashtag no freaking idea.” I kiss the corner
of his lips. I feel their warmth and softness. I feel every inch of
love he has for me pouring from them. “Is it cool if we call the
baby Joel for his middle name?”