Unexpected love
By Cath Rathbone
Annie’s last pieces of stale bread were snatched away by the fierce current. It was drizzling and icy and she felt crushed. Not even the seagulls were interested in her.
Dragging her feet, she wandered off towards … towards where? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered any more. Fired only a week ago, it felt like a year of pain hand compounded inside her after that horrific interview, followed by the mortifying walk of shame as she was escorted from the building.
“Downsizing … you understand … international merger … new rules … no severance packages …” the words had pierced her like icicles, leaving no evidence except on her soul and her ego.
Although many had gone before her, she’d been promised her position was recession-proof. Ten years, an impeccable record, Annie trusted she was safe.
Her job. Her life. Had she seen it coming? It didn’t matter, her life was over. Annie now couldn’t pay her bills and the bulk of her savings, which she’d lent to her brother to tide him over the tough times, were also gone.
Depression. Inside and out.
Defeated, she dropped onto a wet bench, nausea filling her throat.
Time passed like an untreated root canal.
Mental lists of her financial obligations crowded in:
American Express
Visa
The car
The house
The vacation
What would her parents think? Her brother? She hadn’t had the guts to tell anyone yet.
Cell phone
Broadband
Utilities
Food
Her job snatched away and farmed off to South America for a tenth of her salary. South America? What could they know about the intricate lead-gen program she’d created? Built from scratch? Honed to perfection?
Macy’s
Penny’s
The Golf Club
Friends? She’d be the laughing stock. Tears spilled down her cheeks falling into raindrops. Sweet and salty.
A cacophony raged in her head,
Faces
Bills
Checks
Cars
The IRS …
Something snapped.
Mechanical strides marched Annie up the parapet of Tower Bridge in London, where she’d been working for the last two years. Up and up she climbed, oblivious to the driving rain, strong limbs courtesy of Alpine rock climbing; endurance thanks to the elite London gym; the single-minded determination from years of working in a male dominated world. Annie laughed, a hollow laugh snatched by freezing night air.
No one’ll miss me. At the top she paused.
No husband.
No lover.
Parents? Inconvenienced at best.
Brother? Relieved probably
Friends?
Co-workers?
The wind whipped everything out of her head. She didn’t hear the shouts, or the horns honking, or the voices in her head. There was just perfect silence when she jumped.
“Morning lazy … are you planning to sleep all day?” a male voice like warm honey caressed her ear drums again.
Was this heaven?
“I’ll just get on with your exercises then, OK?”
Where was it coming from?
“First though, let’s open these windows. Feel the breeze? Listen to those birds. It’s a concert! But don’t get me started, I’ll be singing along with them.” He laughed.
An easy, comfortable laugh.
Something scraped across the floor.
Was there a floor in heaven?
“You don’t mind if I sit down, do you darling?” he asked, “Right then, now you just lie back and enjoy. You did very well yesterday.”
Enjoy what? What did she do yesterday?
The voice was soothing, rhythmic.
Was she dreaming?
There was nothing dreamlike about the feeling on her leg now. Strong hands were massaging the length of it, rubbing, kneading, pulling. It felt incredible.
What was going on?
“Well, love, how about I continue yesterday’s story? Let’s see, where did I leave off …” and his melodic voice chatted on.
Heard this before … nice, but so … sleepy …
Heart in her throat, Annie’s eyes flew open. She’d had another falling dream. Catching her breath and holding on, she realized she was in bed. But where?
Half-open curtains exposed treetops, blue sky and jet streams. Two chairs, on either side of … her bed? Nothing seemed familiar.
Lamp.
Glass of water.
A single yellow rose.
She jumped as the door opened and the voice spoke,
“Good morning sunshine. It’s me. How’re we today?” without looking her way, the doctor walked towards the window, tapping the footboard of her bed as he passed.
“I don’t know who closes these windows, but … there, sniff! I can’t get enough morning breeze.”
“Exc…” Excuse me who are you, was what she’d wanted to ask, but nothing else had come out.
Still holding the catch, he turned. “Did you say something?” he asked unmoving.
“Who … are … you?”
Fascination etched all over his face.
“Well, I’ll be … oh, Annie,” he said walking over, “I’m David Bates”
“Dr. Bates? Please can … I have… water?”
“Water! Of course.” David Bates leaned over and finding the glass brought it close for Annie to sip from. “I’m blind, you might have noticed,” he said with an easy smile, “so forgive me if I get a little water up your nose!” That laugh, again.
A little frisson chased down her spine. She had never felt quite like this before. In a strange bed, an unfamiliar place … yet … allowing him to feed her water was quite possibly the most calming thing she’d felt in her life.
“Blind? How? … Where … am I?”
He smiled again and pulled up the chair. She knew what he was going to say and he did,
“You don’t mind if I sit down, do you?”
She shook her head and added “No, of … course … not.”
“Welcome back! You’ve been asleep awhile,” he said getting comfortable, “Let me see … February 16 to May 20th … Do you remember any of that?”
Horrified, Annie shook her head, “No.”
“Don’t worry, love, it’s quite normal after your type of trauma.”
Trauma?
“But … am I? Where …?” Annie hyperventilated.
“OK, Annie, deep breath. That’s it, nice a slow, and out again. You had a bad accident but you’re recovering. I’m your physiotherapist,” he said lifting both hands, flexing his fingers, “I keep your muscles going while you sleep.”
“Accident …?” Suddenly it was all too much and the tears came hot and fast.
“Oh, Annie, there now,” David took her free hand in both of his, “you’re going to be OK,” and he sat there, holding it as she sobbed. Exhausted she hiccoughed and slipped into sleep again.
When she next opened her eyes, the day was night and the rose was pink.
Next time it was red.
This morning it was white.
“Hello, David” said Annie as he walked in.
“Well! You’re chipper today.” He said grinning.
“I am and the window’s open.”
“I can see.”
“You can? But, I thought …”
David laughed, “Silly turn of phrase, isn’t it? No I can’t see, but I feel it,” he said tapping his cheeks. “You sound good today.”
“I am. I’ve been reading and waiting for you.”
He smiled.
“You have now? And why would that be?”
“I … I wanted more.”
“More?” David said cocking his head, smirking.
“No! I mean, I want to know more, about how I got here …”
He sniggered. Annie giggled, then chuckled and before she knew it, they were laughing together.
“You’re so bad!”
“I’m bad?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s you who suggested …”
“I didn’t.”
“Did.”
“Didn’t”
They both stopped at the same time, their hands intertwined, nothing to do with physiotherapy.
“I …” started Annie.
“Please, don’t,” said David as she tried to wriggle free, “do you feel wrong about it? About this I mean?”
“I … I er… um, no.”
“Me neither,” said David with a soft sigh, “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for you to wake up.”
“You have?”
David pulled both her hands to his lips and kissed them in turn. “Yes, I have. Shall I tell you about it?”
“Yes, please,” Annie said, feeling she may have heard it before.
“We met at St Thomas’s, February 17th, the day after your accident. You looked awful. Well, that’s what everyone told me anyway. High tide on the River Thames not good for legs and faces,” he laughed, squeezing her hands, which he’d not released.
“Thames?” she said racing for a memory.
“Yes, you jumped off Tower Bridge – have you any idea how fierce the currents can be? Besides the fact it’s icy and filthy.”
“Tower Bridge …” I did what?.
“It took a while to find your family. People who jump off bridges don’t usually leave notes or carry ID,” he grinned when Annie squirmed. “Shh, it’s OK. They came. They saw. They left. No love lost there, eh?”
“No, not really.”
“I didn’t think so. Anyway, I work two days a week at St. Thomas’s, which is where you were, and I volunteer here – so when the time came to move you somewhere, I suggested they move you here. Your father wrote a check and …”
“A check?”
David nodded, “They were off to Bali or Fiji.”
“Sounds like them.” Tears welled up, but determined not to cry all over him again, Annie sat up, “David, when can I get out of bed? I’m sick of being here!”
“Right now if you like,” he said standing, “but you’ll be as weak as old rotten bridge.”
“Hey! That’s not very nice!”
“Just teasing, silly, just teasing.”
“Will you hold me?”
“Of course I will. For the rest of your life if you let me. Now shall we sit up first?”
She almost passed out but he’d kissed her cheek, whispering, “You’re a champ.”
He walked her to the window and back.
Caressing yesterday’s yellow rose, Annie said to David as he walked in.
“It’s so unusual that my parents send me flowers. Well, a rose, I mean …” she trailed off, “Since the beginning? At the hospital I mean?”
“Since Valentine’s Day.”
“Hmmm. So strange.”
“Not them,” said David presenting Annie with a damask bloom.
“You?” she gasped.
“Me. I’ve been waiting such a long time for you to wake up.”
“Oh David, me too,” she said finally waking up as he kissed her for the first time of the rest of her life.
Brilliant... and if you are who I think you are, painful.
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