“Rugby club.” he said distractedly, replaying the way Harry smiled and the throaty chuckle that made him tingle.
“I'm going to a psychiatrists party, it should be quite fun.” she added. Remembering the time when she wouldn't have needed to provide any details about her night out, the time when he would have cancelled any plans at the suggestion that they would spend the evening together. He nodded without looking up. “You can come if you like.” she added finally.
He looked at her then, his blue eyes holding hers. “Where's Jeff?”
“I think he's working late.” she said awkwardly, feeling the colour in her cheeks.
Chris nodded and took another mouthful of coffee. “I think I'll leave it. I'm a bit too preoccupied to have that lot leaping around in my head.”
She nodded and forced a smile, “There's some new blood out tonight, this rather interesting woman who works on your site.”
Chris nodded again and washed his coffee cup in the sink. Then he smiled at her and picked up his car keys. “I'm going to catch up on some paper work,” he explained. Deciding he wanted to read the meticulous document Harry had produced, He had spent the evening thinking of a way to extend his tentative courtship, but still had no better idea than to thought he might meet her at the IT suite and escort her up to the next meeting.
Nicola watched him go, his sculpted torso stretched into a faded polo shirt, his long legs filling a pair of blue jeans to perfection. She felt angry with herself, she loved Jeff and she was sure she did not regret her choice. She decided though that she needed to meet Harry as a matter of priority. She wanted to make sure this woman was good enough.
Harry was chopping up vegetables again. She remembered Chris' easy company and his handsome smile, and wished that he could jog into view and offer to help. She was sitting in the communal garden, right outside Julia's house. A long overdue vacuuming session was underway inside and Harry was planning out the snacks for their Saturday night gathering. “Are you inviting tall dark and gorgeous?” Olivia yelled.
“Not yet.” she said and returned to her slicing. She wondered what he would say if she did.
Chris jogged past her house right around the time she was collecting some music. He stood on the path and tried to decide whether or not to knock on the door. In the end he didn't. He ran home and walked round the corner to the rugby club. It had been a big part of his decision to buy the house with Jeff, he didn’t really like decorating, and he wasn’t sure why they needed to buy such a big house, but the club had kept him safe, and sane, for as long as he could remember. So he bought himself a beer and spoke to the men that he trained with so many years and felt uncomfortably empty.
Harry finished her preparations and stretched her aching shoulders. “Do you fancy a night off?” Julia asked lightly.
“What do you mean?”
“A night out of your chair on the sofa.”
Harry was silent for a moment then she looked up at her friend. “I'd be there for the evening.” she said softly. “I'm not transferring in front of anyone but you, not when I've had a couple of drinks." Julia held her breath, her thoughtless remark before their swimming trip was still weighing heavily on her. It made her realise how much she valued Harry's gentle trust. “Actually,” Harry added finally, “I'd like that very much. Thank you.”
“Excellent.” said Julia, her relief obvious. She touched Harry on the shoulder, mindful of the fact that it was much harder to hug someone in a wheelchair.
“Wine?” asked Olivia, bursting cheerfully in the lounge, and Julia wondered, not for the first time, if Olivia ignored the interplay of relationships around her, or simply didn't notice them.
“Good plan.” Harry said with a grin and took an appreciative mouthful. She sorted out the last of the food preparation and issued instructions to Mike who had as usual, arrived far earlier than invited.
Mike drank his beer slowly and savoured the sight of her curves and her arms in the short sleeves of her loose cotton top. He was slightly surprised when he returned from yet another errand to the local shop and saw her settling onto the sofa. Julia was pushing her wheelchair into the under stair cupboard and he filled up Harry’s glass and smiled at her. “I bought you a copy of that CD you liked, shall I put it on?”
“Please,” she said, grateful as ever for his sensitivity. Olivia handed him another beer and he clinked his bottle against hers. Harry watched their interaction for a moment, and entertained a brief speculation about their possible relationship. Then the doorbell rang and a group of rather wildly dressed psychiatrists erupted into the room. Olivia explained that she was writing a research paper with some of them, and sharing an office with others and she concentrated on remembering all their names.
Nicola couldn't believe it when she was introduced to the beautiful woman on the sofa. She decided it had to be the right person, she worked in the hospital IT department, she was called Harry and her dark skin highlighted loveliness of her face. She kept trying to talk to her, trying to negotiate the crowded room to sit beside her. But the conversation buzzed constantly around the small elegant figure, and a tall man who appeared to be drinking vodka straight out of a bottle tried very hard to flirt with her before the plump man from the computer department took him outside for a cigarette. She drank rather more wine than she intended and watched the woman in frank curiosity. She had wanted to hate her, but realised that she couldn’t. Harry was funny and intelligent and obviously kind to her friends, and she realised that just made her feel worse.
Finally she took advantage of people getting up for drinks and pushed her way rather more dramatically than she intended onto the scruffy 3 seater under the window. She sat down very close to the woman she had been watching, invading her personal space. “Hello.” said Harry, her expressive face a mix of surprise and amusement.
“Hi, I'd just thought it would be nice to meet you. We haven't been introduced yet.”
“Well nice to meet you then.” Harry said, looking at the way the woman’s wine was hanging precariously over her favourite boots. “Are you a psychiatrist?” she asked finally, silently willing the woman to straighten her glass.
The awkward woman nodded enthusiastically. “I work in the community.” She launched into an animated description of her job. “So tell me,” the woman said suddenly, invading her space and breathing alcohol fumes over her, “what do you do?”
“I work with computers.”
“Yes I know, but what does that mean?” Harry tried to focus, but she was tired, and she realised how much she wanted to get back into her comfortable conversation with Mike. She smiled gratefully up at him when he filled up her glass, and took a rather larger mouthful of her favourite burgundy than she had intended. She had been enjoying her time on the sofa, people did treat her differently out of her chair, even her close friends. But now she was trapped with this intense woman who didn't stop talking until she spilt a particularly nice merlot, all over Harry’s new cotton trousers.
“It's okay, really it is.” Harry assured her. She took another mouthful and wondered how she could possibly extricate herself. Then mercifully the woman's husband arrived and Mike sat down close beside her until the guests took themselves home.
Finally she transferred back into her chair under his gaze which felt protective rather than intrusive. Her head was spinning slightly, and she had to concentrate hard to keep her balance. “Can I walk you home?” he asked softly.
“Thank you.” She said simply and handed him her keys. She navigated the short path and manoeuvred into the safety of her front room. Mike stretched out on the sofa while she brushed her teeth and they laughed about the people they had met.
Finally she wheeled out of her bathroom with affectionate trust in her eyes and handed him a blanket. “Thank you.” He said softly, he kicked off his shoes and closed his eyes, savouring the fact that she was so close by.
He woke up early and went out for food, guessing correctly that he would be cooking for Ol
ivia and Julia as well. They sat outside in the sun and Harry drank strong black filter coffee and regretted her last glass of wine. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses, and her dark curls were still slightly tousled from her shower. Her faded cotton shirt framed her lovely throat and her frayed soft jeans hugged the contours of her legs and hips. Mike took a deep breath struggled to stay focussed on the conversation.
“Who was that scary Nicola?” Olivia was asking.
“I know.” Julia said apologetically, “She seems quite normal and nice when you’re in work, I’ve actually been enjoying getting to know her. But she’s a bit scary when she drinks wine and I’m so sorry about your trousers Harry.”
“It’s okay, I felt a bit bad for her. She was so drunk, I mean we were all a bit tipsy, but she was in a league of her own.”
“I think something had upset her.” Mike offered, “Because she wasn’t really joining in the conversation.”
“She wanted to talk to poor Harry.” said Olivia, eating the untouched bacon on Harry’s plate.
“Did she give you any kind of explanation?”
“Not really, she was talking about her job mostly, and also her husband, she just kept talking about how he was definitely the right man for her.” Harry took a small bite of toast and chewed it slowly. “I’d be really grateful if someone would get me an aspirin.” she added ruefully, and decided to spend the day watching box sets.
Nicola woke up and felt sick. Her memories of the night were an uncomfortable blur and Jeff was already out of bed. She followed him into the kitchen and sat down beside him, glad that Chris was not around. “Hey,” she said softly.
He held her eyes for a moment and asked finally, “What happened last night Nic?”
“I don’t know. I felt a bit out my depth. There were lots of new people there.” she paused, then added regretfully, “I think I made a fool of myself.” He looked at her in silence, then said finally. “You kept talking about someone called Harry.”
“Did I really?” He nodded, still looking with gentle concern at the woman he loved. “What did I say.”
“That she was beautiful with a surprisingly nice personality.”
“Was Harry listening?” she asked, feeling the colour in her cheeks.
“I don't even know who Harry is. I just tried to get you home as quickly as possible.”
Nicola forced down a glass of water and sat in unhappy silence, she tried to recall the conversation, but all she could remember was talking about herself.
Sunday slid by in a sleepy tangle of DVDs, cups of tea, toast and newspapers. Mike left the comfortable little house after lunch. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to hear her laugh and bring her food and drinks while she stretched out on the sofa. Harry watched him go, trying to gauge Julia's reaction. Afterwards she let her mind wander back to Chris, and she wondered how he had spent the weekend. “You’re thinking about him aren’t you?” Julia sat down on the big sofa beside her friend and made sure that their legs were touching. She remembered when she was getting to know Harry, the intense late night conversations that they had shared as they left their teens and greeted their twenties. Harry had explained that nobody really touched her, and especially didn’t touch her legs. So she touched her as much as she could, and tried to have all their important conversations at the same eye level.
“Yes I’m thinking of him, he’s rather hard to forget.”
“Harry he spent the whole night chopping up vegetables, I think it’s safe to say that he’s thinking about you too.”
Harry looked at her and smiled ruefully, “It’s not that simple for me.”
“Harry you’re a lovely woman, men notice that.”
“Thank you.” Harry said softly, and smiled her thanks when Julia poured out some more coffee.
Chris was looking at one of his oldest friends in speechless surprise. Nicola was telling him about the party, carefully editing her own level of drunkenness. “You met Harry?” he asked again, shifting positing on the hard kitchen chair.
“I'm sure it was her, small and beautiful with long dark hair and this fantastic base note to her voice.”
“That's her,” he paused, and added tentatively, “what did you talk about?”
“I'm not sure, I was quite drunk.” He nodded, and poured himself a cup of coffee. He cared about Nicola far too much to get angry, but he didn't sleep well wondering what she might have said.
Chapter four
Harry however, slept very well until 3am when Belinda called her. “Sorry about this Harry, I acknowledge that this conversation is not keeping with trust policy. The problem is that the blood results have gone down again. I know it’s not your responsibility, but can I ask you to come in with me?”
“Of course.” she said sleepily, she had been dreaming about Chris, and she really wanted to close her eyes and see if she could find him again.
“Thank you so much.” Belinda’s relief was obvious, “Would you like a lift?” Harry accepted then transferred out of bed. Her unhappy adolescence in school that made no concession to her disability had taught her how to wash and dress at speed, and she was pulling on her soft boots when Belinda knocked on the door. “Do you need assistance?” the older woman asked awkwardly, leading the way to her surprisingly sporty black car.
“No I'm fine.” Harry said, hoping her self-consciousness wasn't too obvious. She pulled out her transfer board, and moved with the practice of many years. “Now if you can put my chair in the boot then I'm ready to go.”
Belinda explained that the system was now displaying no blood results whatsoever. They ran through a list of explanations and stopped in the surprisingly full staff car park. The IT portacabin was cold and silent and Harry looked wistfully at the coffee machine and wondered if Belinda would ever reply to the email she had sent explaining that she couldn't access the machine from her chair. Then she immersed herself in the system until it grew light outside and the results started to reappear.
Olivia called her at seven, the concern palpable in her voice. “I'm okay.” Harry told her, “I'll just have an early night.” She ended the call, relieved that her friend would be able to reach her by four, all she need was some caffeine and she would start to feel almost normal.
Mike arrived at 8 and blinked at her while his adrenaline rush faded. “Do you always get in so early?” she asked, amused and surprised in equal measure. Mike nodded awkwardly and filled up the coffee machine. He waited until the first cup ran through and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” she said gratefully, her tired smile catching at his heart. “I’ve been desperate for you to get here.”
“Why on earth didn’t you call me?” he asked, wishing that he could in some small way ride in to her rescue.
“Don’t be silly honey.” She turned her attention back to the screen, and the time slid past in a long tiring welter of equations and angry phone calls. Belinda retreated into her paperwork and Harry and Mike fought with the system.
“Shall I present your data at the training meeting?” Belinda asked.
Harry was sorry to note that she was still as formal as ever, she had hoped that their long morning together might have made their relationship easier. “Yes thank you.” She said, smiling as convincingly as she could and stifling her disappointment.
“I will of course acknowledge entirely that it is not my own work.” Belinda added stiffly.
“I really don’t mind.” Harry told her honestly. She enjoyed her job, and she knew she was pretty good at it. But the thought of looking at Chris’ jawline and those glorious shoulders, had been the only thing cheering her up all morning. She forced her eyes back to the elusive data and worked until lunch time, when Mike brought her favourite sandwich from the canteen.
Chris couldn’t concentrate in the meeting. His mind ran anxiously through all the possible reasons that she would have to send her apologies. He realised that he still knew nothing about why she needed to use a wheelchair and he wondered how he could ask
her. If she was unwell, was she getting proper care? If she had been hurt was she getting the right therapy? He left the elegant room in silence and worked distractedly through his outpatient clinic. For the first time in his career, he took advantage of a cancellation to walk to the IT suite. He tucked in his shirt and straightened his tie, then he pressed the buzzer and Mike opened the door with an expression of muted hostility.
“Can I help you?” the smaller man asked coolly.
“I’ve got a message for Harry,” he said, as formally as he could. Adding hopefully “it’s from Mr Patel.”
“I can pass it on for you.” Mike shifted his generous bulk so that he blocked more of the doorway.
“I’d like to tell her personally.” Chris waited patiently for him to back down, he had learned his skills fighting with the charge nurses in casualty, and he was good at this game.
“Okay,” Mike said finally, and led the way to the row of computers where Harry was sitting. Chris pushed his hands into his pockets and hungrily drank in the sight of her. She was pointing out some figures on the screen, and her hand was clearly trembling. She shifted her delicate frame and used both hands to pick up her coffee mug. His surge of protective tenderness caught him by surprise, and his heart lifted when he saw the relief in her expressive eyes, until he realised that Julia was standing beside him.
She stepped forward and gently took the coffee mug out of her tired hands. “I think Mike can take it from here.” she said protectively.
“Could you give me a hand with my chair?” Harry asked lightly, unable to look at Chris.
“Yes of course.” Julia said, keeping her tone as casual as that used by her friend. When Harry had been a student she had withdrawn onto her sofa when her strength and co-ordination deteriorated. Since she had started working, her fierce independence had usually tided her through situations, especially when she was out in public, and Julia realised she had no idea how to manoeuvre a wheelchair. She took the handles then quickly understood that it was far harder than she anticipated.
Sunrise for Two Page 4