by C. L Stewart
“Gina I just need to do a few little checks on you then these police officers need to speak to you okay?”
I am numb. My head nods but I don’t feel it. I feel as though I am floating, watching everything from above, disconnected from my body, from my life. I am poked and prodded. Ava speaks to me and I answer automatically. As she finishes, I feel a sense of foreboding. I am led into the living room to sit somewhere more comfortable.
“Alright Gina honey that’s me finished checking you out. You don’t appear to have a concussion and all your vitals are fine. If you feel light headed or dizzy over the next 24 hours you need to get checked out, okay? Contact the A&E department at the hospital. Just because we don’t see anything now doesn’t mean that something won’t crop up later.”
I nod in response and she puts a hand on my shoulder and gives a little squeeze.
“The police need to speak to you, so I’ll leave them to it.”
As she moves away, I grab her arm. She turns and smiles. “I don’t want to be alone,” I whisper as I feel tears run down my face.
Ava puts her arm around my shoulder and pulls me in to her side. “I understand love. I’ll stay until someone comes to be with you.”
“Thank you Ava.”
This woman doesn’t know me from Adam but is willing to sit here as I break into a million pieces. Looking down at my hands I notice that I am clutching my left hand in my right and squeezing my wedding ring tight, giving it a little twist every few seconds. I feel Ava tense and looking up I notice the two police officers from earlier approach me. I am shaking and finding it hard to breathe.
“It’s okay Gina I’m here, you have to stay calm. Breathe in deeply and let it out slowly.” Ava’s soothing voice calms me enough to listen when the officer starts talking.
“Mrs Connor, my name is Shaun Stanton. I’m a family liaison officer. This is my colleague Mike Davies. Is your husband Aiden Connor?”
I nod.
“Mrs Connor I’m really sorry but I have to inform you that Aiden was involved in a serious accident this evening. Emergency services were called and arrived within a few minutes but there was nothing they could do, and he was pronounced dead at the scene.”
I can’t hear what else he is saying. There is a high-pitched animal-like wailing ringing in my ears. It takes me a few seconds to realise that sound is coming from me. Oh God, this cannot be happening. What am I going to do?
“Gina,” Ava says quietly. “We’ve had a call in and I need to go. You’re in good hands here and your mum is on her way okay? I’m so sorry for your loss honey. Stay strong and remember to get medical help if you feel you need it.”
Ava’s eyes are teary. All I can muster is a quiet thank you. Moments later she is gone and I am left alone with the two police officers. There is an eerie silence between us all as I try to absorb what has happened. My whole world has imploded, my heart shattered. I feel numb. My whole reason for being is gone.
Chapter 1
Six Months Later
I have never thought of myself as pretty, at least not compared to the beautiful celebs and models that are splashed all over the media. I am average, normal and look ok with a bit of make-up on. My long brown hair and blue eyes are a bonus and I have curves in the right places. I know I will never be a svelte size 8 it’s just not in my genes. I am healthy and that’s all that matters to me. My husband thought I was beautiful; I think he was biased. He always made me feel loved and wanted. If I felt terrible, he would always do or say something to make me laugh. Anything from funky facial expressions to putting dirty words into songs and singing them out loud to me.
The last six months have been hard, and grief has taken its toll on me. I feel older than my 31 years; damn it I look older. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror on my dressing table I feel tears start to well up from my heart, a heart that is still pained every time I look at my empty bed. I close my eyes against the stinging of the salt water. I can see Aiden walking in and wrapping me up in a big bear hug, telling me I am beautiful. I squeeze my eyes tight sending trickles down my cheeks. In the distance the revving of a car engine brings me out of my reverie and I open my eyes. I look at the mirror and there is only me with my arms wrapped round myself painfully wishing that he was here. I miss him so much.
It is just after midday and I have to get ready for my weekly grilling by Dr. Nathan Dempsey (Nate), my therapist, who is not much older than me. I think that is why I have stuck with him for so long. He is easy to talk to and doesn’t rush me or dismiss me. I never wanted to go in the first place. I didn’t think I needed it, but I had gone to keep Dr. Parsons off my back and stop him from prescribing anti-depressants. I am not depressed, I have too many other things to occupy my mind to be depressed, or so I like to keep telling myself. The good doctor had come to see me a week after Aiden’s funeral, I highly suspect at the insistence of my mother-in-law, and sat looking at me with pity over his thin wire glasses. He is possibly in his late 50’s and always looks like he got dressed in the dark. He told me that the reality of my ‘situation’ had not yet hit me and that I should try to speak to someone. Apparently, I have a mild case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I thought that happened to people who had been in an accident or had witnessed something terrible or had experienced some sort of physical trauma, so when it was directed at me, I was shocked. It took another few weeks of persuasion and threats of the dreaded ‘Happy Pills’ before I finally agreed. It was only an hour a week on a Tuesday afternoon. I really didn’t have any excuse not to go and Dr. Parsons knew it. He knew I didn’t have any children or commitments.
Aiden had said he wanted to wait for our careers to take off before we started a family. I have a degree in business and economics, but photography was my passion and I had aspired to be a hot shot photojournalist, travelling the world photographing the rich and famous, stunning places and interesting people. My dream was to live and work in New York. Turns out there are too many people already doing that and I was a bottom feeder compared to most of them. I found my vocation doing portraits from my little studio in the high street. I photographed weddings, parties and other social events. In the end I had to give up the studio and have fallen into a rut since, I have no motivation to photograph happy people. My poor camera is neglected. Aiden qualified in structural engineering and was destined for great things. He got a part time surveyors job at the local council offices while he waited for his big break. Part-time turned into full-time and as he moved up the ranks he found it harder to honour his aspirations. We had discussed having kids but there was always something going on and it never seemed like the right time. A part of me now thinks it was just as well we didn’t, I don’t know how I would have coped on my own with a kid; I can barely keep myself going. Who knew we were not going to be together forever? We thought we had all the time in the world. I was comfortably complacent and oblivious to the fragility of life and it was ripped from me in a few short minutes by the side of a country road.
So, here I am off to talk to Nate for an hour to see if he can help. I usually take the bus in to town on a Tuesday afternoon because parking is highly coveted and costs an arm and a leg if you are lucky enough to get a space. Nate’s office is in a tall sandstone building with large sash windows and a beautiful set of pillars on either side of the main door. It is in the west end of Glasgow, a very affluent part of the city, near the University and sits inconspicuously on a tree lined avenue overlooking Kelvingrove Park. I sometimes take a stroll through the park before I go home just to clear my head.
There are 3 floors in the building. The two offices on the ground floor belong to a private dentist. I always grin as I pass and see the little set of teeth on legs smiling at me from the sign on the front door, ‘Sparkles Dental Practice’. I have never seen the dentist, but I imagine her to be tall, blonde and perfectly groomed wearing a pink uniform with diamantes spelling out her name. My imagination is ridiculous; it’s not a beauty salon for God’s sake. Just abov
e the teeth on legs is a new sign I haven’t noticed before. It would appear that they now do Botox. This makes me laugh. From the look of me today I should probably keep this in mind, I may get to meet ‘Dr. Sparkles’ after all. An architect and an accounts consultant occupy the second floor. They don’t have funky names. The architect is S. Parker and the accountant is D. Todd, not a lot to imagine there. The only images I can conjure up are two short, bald, old guys who look exactly the same wearing the same bland suit sitting behind identical desks. This floor is far too boring for my liking.
I arrive at my destination, on the third floor, and am greeted by Nate’s receptionist and my once a week impartial friend Fiona. She has blonde curls to her shoulders and a flawless complexion like a little china doll. She is always cheerful and has a smile for everyone. Then again, I would always have a smile on my face too if I worked with Nate, he is an extremely handsome man and Fiona’s husband.
“Oh, hi Gina,” Fiona chirps, her beaming smile makes me smile as well. Apparently it’s infectious.
“Hi Fiona, looking lovely as ever,” I reply, she always looks perfectly preened.
“Oh you’re too kind Gina. You look happy today, it’s nice to see your smile.”
“I just saw the sign on the dentist’s door on my way in and it made me laugh.”
“Oh the Botox! Nate had a laugh at that on the way in this morning too and the cheeky sod told me that I should bear it in mind. I may be husbandless by the end of the day…Oh I’m so sorry Gina, the words were out before I knew what I was saying,” Fiona cries as she clamps her hand over her mouth.
I flash her my biggest smile to reassure her as inside my heart sinks. I hate people walking on eggshells around me. “Fiona don’t apologise, I’m fine. I’m early today, is Nate with someone just now?”
“Thank you Gina, I’ll try and link my brain to my mouth in future. He’s with a new client right now so the session may overrun a bit”
Her eyes are so full of apology, I could never have been mad at her even if I wanted to, she’s just so lovely.
“No problem, I’m going to go and grab a bite to eat at the deli on the corner. Would you like me to get you anything?” Thinking back to my first session with Nate I know I could be waiting a while.
“No thanks, I’ve already had lunch and if I drink any more coffee I’m likely to pee myself right here in this chair.” We both have a chuckle at that as I head for the door.
“See you shortly.”
As I reach the front door of the building, I can feel the cold, end of November air greeting me with its harsh bite. I pull my coat around me and tighten my scarf then proceed out onto the steps. I have my head down fishing in my pockets for my gloves when I feel an almighty thud hit me square on. My head shoots up just in time to see a brown-haired figure in an expensive looking grey three-piece suit tumble down the stairs. Jesus…he is gorgeous. This should not be my first thought after knocking him down the stairs but…WOW! He has eyes like Paul Newman with a bit of young Marlon Brando thrown in for good measure. His skin is slightly tanned, and he is clean-shaven. His hair is so perfectly styled it looks like it wouldn’t move even in a tornado.
“Oh my God I am so sorry, are you ok?” I rush to his side and put my hand on his arm, oh my, what a nice arm that is. I feel a little buzz and the hairs on my arms stand to attention, as do other parts of my anatomy. I immediately let go, shocked at my reaction.
“I didn’t even hear you I’m so sorry.” My voice is uncharacteristically high, and I am talking too fast, but I can’t seem to control myself. What the hell is wrong with me? ‘Get a Goddamn grip Gina he’s just a man…gorgeous but just a man.’
As he gathers himself and his briefcase up, he looks at me with the most beautiful deep blue eyes I have ever seen. He holds my gaze, I can’t tear my eyes away, I am mesmerised.
“Please be more careful in future missy, you could have caused some serious damage there.” He looks at me like I am a naughty child being told off for running in the school corridor with an open pair of scissors. I don’t know what to say. How bloody dare you, you cheeky bastard. Missy, MISSY! He doesn’t even know me. As I stand there seething at this complete stranger’s total dismissal of me, he turns on his heel and walks into the building without a backward glance. All I can manage is a shake of my head as I stand there in utter disbelief. I can feel tears well beneath my lids. ‘Stop it right now Gina, he is not worth it,’ I tell myself without much conviction. I apologised for goodness sake. What did he want me to do? Fall to my knees and beg his forgiveness like he was some sort of God. He was rather hot and, as much as I hate to admit it, those eyes were amazing but like most hot guys he was full of himself. I hope his butt cheeks hurt…moron. He is probably having the accountant on the second floor fiddle his books. Although the exchange only took five minutes I feel as though I have been outside for an hour. I’m freezing and not even hungry anymore…I’m too mad. I decide to go back inside and have a coffee in the waiting room, scowling and sticking my fingers up at the accountant’s door on my way past.
Chapter 2
My session with Nate goes well. As usual we discuss how I am feeling, how I am filling my days, whether or not I am seeing friends and family, am I keeping active and the like. I respond automatically. I am fine, I am going to the gym, swimming, reading etc., seeing my friends and my mum a few times a week. Of course, none of this is true, I just don’t have the energy and I only speak to people on the phone now and again. In actual fact my only real human face-to-face interaction is with Nate and Fiona every Tuesday. I had so many visitors in the days following the accident and after the funeral that I just wanted peace and quiet. I thought that would only last a few weeks, but it seems to have become routine now, I actually like my own company. I suspect that Nate knows I am lying; he wouldn’t be very good at his job if he didn’t. I am sure he is humouring me at the moment. In all honesty I enjoy our little hour together, it’s good to talk to someone who doesn’t pity me all the time.
It is now 3.30pm and the sky has a mauve hue to it. I don’t like the winter nights and the closer it gets to Christmas the more I hate them. Aiden and I used to cosy up with each other on these cold dark nights after we had spent the day Christmas shopping in town. This year Christmas can take a hike, I am not interested. I am lost in my thoughts as I walk towards the bus stop. Looking up I notice a tall man with his back to me. He is wearing a black overcoat and is fighting with his briefcase lock next to an absolutely stunning jet-black Aston Martin. The registration plate is simple: SP1. Very expensive. I didn’t notice it earlier, I would have remembered since it is my dream car and that plate is hard to miss. As I get closer the click click click of my heels makes him turn and look in my direction. My heart constricts, oh Jesus Christ, it is that moron from earlier. I don’t want another confrontation, so I look down at the ground and walk faster. I really want to punch the bastard, but I don’t want to get myself arrested.
“Excuse me.” The voice calls to me. I carry on walking. Fuck you asshole, I am not in the mood.
“EXCUSE ME!” Much louder this time. Still I ignore him.
“Excuse me MISSY!” He is laughing now. That’s it, I stop abruptly and spin on my heel ready to take aim and knock the idiot to his arse again.
“Do not EVER call me Missy again you condescending bastard,” I shout at him. I must look like a mental case bawling at a complete stranger in the street. I try my best to control myself, but I can already feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I know it won’t be long before it all comes flooding out. I am shaking, not from the cold, from pent up emotion.
When I look at him again, he is still smiling and that tips me over the edge. My mind detaches itself from my body and before I know what I am doing I lift my hand and crack him on the jaw with a slap that makes some birds in the tree across the street from us take flight. My legs choose that moment to give up on me and I collapse in a heap on the cold hard ground, sobbing uncontrollably with my head
in my hands. I feel him kneel down beside me and put his arm around me. He is warm and smells so good that I want to snuggle in to him; then I remember he is a cheeky bastard and is the reason I am now slumped on the pavement. But, then again, would a complete moron comfort a crazy lady who had just slapped him in the middle of the street? I look up at him and into those deep blue eyes and feel like I could get lost in them.
“Are you ok?” His voice is sincere and not as harsh as it had sounded in our earlier exchange.
“I’m fine.” I really don’t have anything else to say to him and I am slightly embarrassed. I really don’t think he deserved to be slapped like that. Now I feel like such a bitch. He helps me up and brushes off my coat for me. He gently moves my hair, which has got stuck in my tears, from my face. As his hand brushes my skin, I feel a little buzz again. I close my eyes and savour it.
When I open them he is looking at me, smile gone, with his face full of concern. Good God he is gorgeous, I can’t take my eyes off his beautiful features. Holding out his hand for me I gratefully accept, happy to get off the cold damp ground.
“I have to apologise for the way I spoke to you earlier, I’m so sorry. I thought the ‘missy thing’ had annoyed you that’s the only reason I used it. I knew you were going to ignore me, but I really didn’t expect to get a slap for it; I thought you would see the funny side. I was in a rush earlier after an exceptionally heated meeting with a client, so I was not in the best frame of mind when we bumped into each other.” His voice is lovely and calming and not patronising at all. I can feel my face flush crimson.
“Yes, I’m sorry for that, is your cheek okay?”
“I’ll live I’m sure.”
He holds out his hand in a handshake gesture, “My name is Steven by the way.”
I take his hand; his big warm hand and give it a little shake.