Playground Cool

by Sinclair, Jamie

  He would often drink almost an entire bottle in an evening and would fall asleep in his suit in front of the television. When sleep came at all. Often, he’d find himself pacing the house at three in the morning, glass in hand. The following morning he always felt dirty and lethargic but he didn’t really care; without Rhia there seemed little point in bothering to keep up appearances.

  After another wasted evening turning over ever more ridiculous reasons as to why Rhia had left, Ben resolved to take some positive action to try and improve his situation. He decided go to where Rhia worked and wait for her to come out. Then he’d force her to talk to him. Even better, he would go into where she worked and demand to see her so that she couldn’t cause a scene and run away. In his whiskey-fuelled state of mind this plan seemed flawless and he began to picture Rhia apologising for leaving and realising how foolish she’d been. He would make out that he wasn’t sure he could forgive her and then grudgingly agree to let her move back in with him. Yes, he wouldn’t be surprised if by tomorrow night he and Rhia were back together, lying in bed as she fell asleep in his arms. Comforted by this, Ben drifted off to sleep with a hopeful smile on his face for the first time in weeks.

  The following morning Ben awoke and didn’t feel quite as bad as he’d come to expect. He lay in bed listening to the radio and pondered the improvement as Macy Gray sang.

  Try to say goodbye and I choke. Try to walk away and I stumble…

  Gradually the flawless plan from the previous evening began to filter back into his mind. He began to remember his drunken intention to force a meeting with Rhia. What a bloody stupid idea. She would go absolutely through the roof if he suddenly turned up, having not even spoken to her for three weeks, demanding answers. He had visions of security being called and escorting him from the building, shamefaced and still very single.

  Though I try to hide it, it’s clear. My world crumbles when you’re not near.

  Having recognised the all too obvious faults with his formerly perfect plan to reclaim his girlfriend and life, Ben also reasoned that if he didn’t get Rhia back he’d be no worse off than he was now. The only thing he stood to lose was what little pride he had left, yet there was a slim chance he could get Rhia back. Before he had the chance to think anymore he picked up the phone and telephoned his office to say he wouldn’t be going in.

  Em answered and he told her his intentions. She’d been surprisingly understanding about the Rhia situation and, despite his initial reluctance, Ben gave her regular updates on how he was feeling. His worry that she would spread his personal life all over the office proved unfounded and he’d confided in her more and more over the weeks since Tits-up Tuesday. After wishing him good luck and assuring him that she’d pass on how ill he was feeling, he put down the telephone and got out of bed.

  After an extra long shower to try and rid himself of the stale odour he’d taken on recently, Ben put on his blue Valentino shirt and black Armani trousers. Both were presents from Rhia and he decided that anything which might score him some points must be in his favour. Despite his anxiety at the thought of seeing Rhia, he forced down a couple of slices of toast; partly to avoid a rumbling stomach while with her and partly to give himself more time to think about what he going to say.

  Just after half past ten, Ben got into his car and set off to where Rhia worked for a firm called Daniels and DeVie in Stockport. Despite all his thinking he’d no real idea what to expect and even less idea what he was going to say when he got there. For all he knew she might just refuse to see him or have him thrown out straight away. On the other hand, everything might go perfectly and she might come back to him when she saw how much she meant to him. This had seemed a much more likely outcome the night before, but Ben was determined to do something other than wallow.

  Upon arriving at Rhia’s office Ben parked the car and took a moment to compose himself. Almost an hour later he was still sitting there, utterly terrified of facing the woman he loved. The idea that she might reject him, that she might not want him back, rendered him unable to leave the safety of the car. The last three weeks had been hell, but at least by not speaking to her he could keep telling himself there was a chance. Once he’d seen her and spoken to her that would be it. He would have his answer one way or another.

  After wiping his moist palms on his trousers for what seemed like the thousandth time, Ben suddenly flung open the car door and almost leapt out into the car park. He slammed the door and pressed the remote to lock it. Breathing heavily, like someone about to be sick, he strode quickly towards the entrance. He knew exactly where Rhia’s office was; he’d been here often enough in the past, so he went straight for the lift. Upon reaching her floor he went to reception and asked if she was free.

  ‘I’m sorry. She telephoned first thing this morning to say that she wouldn’t be in today. Apparently she fell ill suddenly and may be off for the rest of the week.’

  The girl behind the desk smiled her best receptionist smile and asked if there was any message. Ben was stunned. After all he’d been through she wasn’t even here.

  ‘No. No message. Thanks anyway.’

  He turned and almost ran out of the building. When he got back to the car he felt weak from the effort of going in to face Rhia. He needed to speak to her; he’d the courage to come to the office so he could go to her sister’s house.

  He drove as fast as the traffic allowed; such was his need to resolve the situation. His heart was racing and he was sweating freely as he pulled up outside the house. He took a couple of deep breaths and marched to the doorway. If her sister turned awkward he would just have to persist. He wouldn’t leave without seeing Rhia. Ben rang the doorbell and then, after a couple of seconds, he knocked on the glass. A moment later Fran opened the front door.

  ‘Ben!’ she said, startled. ‘What the hell do you want?’

  ‘Hazard a guess,’ he fired back, almost bouncing up and down with nerves now, ‘I’ve come to see Rhia.’

  ‘She’s at work. Come to think of it, why aren’t you?’

  ‘Look, Fran. I’m not leaving until you let me see her,’ said Ben, ignoring the question.

  ‘And I’ve told you she’s at bloody work,’ she shot back. ‘Now bugger off and leave me alone.’

  Ben was beginning to lose his temper now; he didn’t want to waste any more time with Rhia’s Friesian sister.

  ‘I’ve just come from her office actually and they told me that she’s off sick. So let me sodding well see her,’ he raised his voice in an attempt to get Rhia’s attention.

  ‘What do you mean off sick? She’s not off sick. She went to work this morning same as ever,’ she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

  ‘You are such a bloody liar. Christ Fran, I only want to talk to her,’ Ben shouted the last part out of sheer frustration.

  ‘Ben. I am telling you she went to work this morning. She’s not here!’

  ‘Bollocks,’ replied Ben simply.

  She opened the door fully to allow him into the house as she retreated down the hallway towards the phone.

  ‘If you’re lying about this, I’ll make sure you never bloody see her,’ she said picking up the phone.

  Moments later she put down the phone again and turned to face Ben. The look on her face told him what had been said.

  ‘I told you she wasn’t there,’ he said in a superior tone.

  ‘Then where the hell is she?’ Rhia’s sister looked worried now.

  ‘Christ knows. But it looks like I’m not the only the only one she likes to disappear on doesn’t it?’

  Chapter Six

  It was almost quarter past eight as Rhia pressed the button for the second floor of the hospital. The appointment had been made for nine o’ clock but she’d been unable to sleep and had spent the night turning over her decision in her mind. She’d been dressed and out of the house before half past six and had spent the last thirty minutes sitting in the hospital car park, watching cars come and go, only breaking the silence when s
he telephoned work to say she wouldn’t be in for a couple of days.

  Everything about it felt wrong. Yet she’d never wanted children, Ben was the wannabe parent. He never shut up about wanting to start a family and here she was, about to rob him of their first real opportunity. Except that it wasn’t Ben’s baby growing inside her so how could she possibly keep it?

  When she’d been to see the doctor and had told him what she wanted to do, even he seemed to be judging her. Of course nothing had been said, but Rhia got the feeling that the doctor didn’t agree with what she was planning on doing. She kept telling herself that she had no maternal instinct, that she had a career, that she didn’t want children. Yet as she walked through the wide, white corridors of the hospital, these arguments fell apart and it felt very wrong.

  She wanted to see Ben and let him wrap his arms around her and say that it would all be all right. But she hadn’t spoken to him for weeks. He’d telephoned and had even written her a letter but she couldn’t face him, not after what she’d done. She’d listened to his voice on her message service; he sounded by turns angry and upset, but most of all he pleaded with her to explain what he’d done, how he could fix it. How could she tell the man she had shared a home with that she was pregnant by his best mate? So she kept walking, following the signs to the gynaecology ward.

  Rhia hated hospitals, though she knew of nobody who was over fond of them. Her shoes clicked loudly on the solid bare floor as she walked, resounding off the walls then dying in mid air. There was the smell too. A stench of cleanliness which was unique and readily identifiable in its ability to make people feel uncomfortable. Her sister said it reminded her of various things such as disinfectant or perming solution. To Rhia it just smelled like hospital, a place for the sick and the dying; the selfish and the scared.

  ‘Hi. Err… Rhiannon Outhwaite…’ she hesitated at saying her full name, embarrassment finding a way through even now. Thanks to her mother’s obsession with bloody Fleetwood Mac, she’d been subjected to comments and taunts all through primary school since all the other kids seemed to be called sensible names like Claire or Lucy. She’d been known as Rhia since her first day of secondary school and now only her mother insisted on using her full title.

  The nurse on the desk looked up, her serious face softening into a smile at the sight of Rhia who looked as if she might turn and run any second. She glanced at the list in front of her.

  ‘Right Miss Outhwaite. If you’d just like to come with me we’ll get you into bed.’ Her voice was gentle and she smiled as she took Rhia by the arm and led her into a room filled with eight beds arranged in rows of two, each with a mobile curtain rail on the right side.

  ‘If you slip your clothes off and pop this robe on I’ll be back in few minutes.’ The nurse smiled and pulled the curtain around the bed as she left.

  Rhia sat on the edge of the bed and took several deep breaths. She was terrified. What the hell was she doing here? How had she managed to get herself into such a bloody mess? She fought back tears, longing for Ben to be with her. She almost laughed at the thought; she wouldn’t be in this situation if it were his baby. God, he wanted to be a dad so much and he’d no idea that she was even pregnant, let alone what she was about to do. As she started to undress tears rolled freely down her face, the realisation of what she was doing, to Ben more than herself, fully dawning on her for the first time.

  A couple of minutes later the nurse came back through the curtain with a clipboard in one hand. She asked Rhia a series of questions about allergies and she had to sign a form giving consent for a general anaesthetic. She quickly scanned the form and there, at the bottom, was a gap for her to sign. Next to that were the time of the operation and the word ‘Termination'. She scribbled her consent and pushed the clipboard back to the nurse without a word.

  Rhia liked to be in control and be aware of herself at all times. The prospect of being completely unconscious and at the mercy of a stranger scared her. Only Jen knew where she was and telling her had taken all the courage she had. She hadn’t even dared to tell her sister, despite the fact that she’d been living with her since she left Ben. Fran had always wanted to have children but had been told years ago that she couldn’t. The look on Jen’s face had given away her true feelings but she’d said all the right things and even offered to come along for support. Rhia knew that her sister wouldn’t be so understanding.

  Jen had tried to get her to speak to Ben but she’d refused. She argued that she couldn’t stand to hurt Ben by telling him she was carrying someone else’s baby when she’d been so against having children. Therefore she’d resolved to tell him nothing and get rid of the problem altogether.

  After the forms had been signed, the nurse left again, saying that the doctor would be along in a moment for a final check and to answer any questions she might have. Rhia lay back on the bed and rested her head on the pile of bright white hospital pillows. She felt numb all over and her mind was blank. Except for that nagging feeling that she was doing something wrong.

  While she waited for the doctor, Rhia wondered whether Jen hadn’t been right, maybe she should have spoken to Ben. He was a remarkable man, he may have understood. Of course, he would be angry and upset at first, but after the initial shock had passed, the paternal instinct that had caused so many arguments in the past might take over and everything would be alright. Plus, she thought, there would be no need to go through with this awful procedure. She wouldn’t need to be waiting, terrified; to be knocked out while a group of strangers calmly and efficiently removed a life from inside her.

  ‘Good morning Miss Outhwaite. How are we feeling?’ The doctor was a grey faced man who looked weary. Today was just another day to him. She was just another patient.

  ‘Nervous,’ she replied with a smile.

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about, really. It’s a very routine operation and you are a healthy young woman. In an hour and a half it will all be over.’

  ‘Right. Thanks.’

  ‘Okay then. I’ll be back in a moment and we’ll get you down to theatre.’ The doctor smiled, opened the curtain and walked out through the gap.

  Minutes later he reappeared with the nurse and a porter. They each took an end of the bed and wheeled her down the corridor to the lift while the doctor followed behind with a clipboard. Nobody spoke to her and Rhia had nothing to say, her mind clogged with images of Ben. I can’t do it she thought to herself as the small group trundled along the corridor; I can’t allow this to happen. Snapshots of her relationship with Ben came into focus in her head, fading to be replaced with more as she realised that she was making an enormous, permanent, mistake.

  As they rolled to a halt to wait for the lift to arrive, she could think only of Ben and if he would ever forgive her if he knew, the weight of uncertainty and confusion pressing her down into the bed. Moments later the lift announced its arrival with a half-hearted ‘ding’ like a muted hotel reception bell, and she was wheeled in.

  * * * * * *

  She sat, hunched, on the edge of the bed, head in hands, the extra height causing her feet to miss the ground by several inches, her body shaking as she sobbed without reservation. She couldn’t ever remember feeling so lost and in need of guidance, her usual self-assurance and belief utterly absent.

  ‘Miss Outhwaite? Rhiannon?’ A friendly-faced young woman poked her head through the curtain.

  ‘Rhia,’ she answered, sniffing a bubble of snot back up her nose, ‘Everyone calls me Rhia.’

  The woman came in and sat next to her on the bed, immediately wrapping her right arm around Rhia’s shoulders.

  ‘Hello,’ she began gently, ‘I’m one of the hospital counsellors. I hear you’ve had a rough morning.’

  Rhia nodded a reply and continued to cry, using the sleeve of her hospital gown to wipe her face.

  ‘It’s okay,’ the counsellor continued, ‘It’s more common than you think.’

  ‘But what do I do now?’ she wailed desperately, ‘I
don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Ssh, come on,’ the woman gave Rhia a squeeze with the arm that was still gripping her shoulders tightly, ‘Is there someone we can ring for you? Someone who you can talk to?’

  Automatically Ben’s name sprang to her lips, he was always her first choice when help was required; but not today, not for this.

  ‘What about a partner or a relative?’

  ‘No. Nobody knows I’m here except a friend and she’s at work.’

  ‘Well,’ the woman carried on, undaunted, ‘I know it looks bleak, but you really do have options. Me and my team are always available for sessions.’

  The counsellor stayed with Rhia for a while longer, comforting her as best she could while running through various ideas on coping with such stressful situations and coming to terms with trauma. Then the nurse who’d first seen her came through the curtain to check on her.

  ‘The doctor will prescribe some mild sedatives to help you rest. You should go home and go straight to bed, you’ve had a hard day young lady,’ her voice was understanding and warm.

  After being seen by the doctor to make sure everything was as it should be, Rhia was given a bottle of pills and allowed to leave.

  She swung her feet on to the floor and stood up to dress, turning to put her bag on to the bed. She slowly removed her gown and took her own clothes out of the cabinet next to the bed and dressed. She felt nothing, just numb all over. Her mind filled with too many thoughts to enable her to think clearly. She’d no idea what to do now, or what she was going to say to anybody. With a sigh, she picked up her bag and walked out through the curtain.

  Chapter Seven

  Jen was sitting in the back of a taxi on her way home. She felt rough, her head ached and there was a stale alcohol taste in her mouth from the night before. She’d been out for a meal with a man called Norman. He’d come over to talk to her at a party the week before. She’d been there with someone else but Norman had captivated her. He introduced himself and, at first, she’d assumed he was joking when he announced that his name was Norman, although his friends tended to call him Norm.