Helpless (2 page)

             
The fuzzy nurse comes into focus now.  Why are nurses fat? 

             
As if she caught my snarky attitude, she walks away without a word.  So what?  I’m alone in a hospital room.  No biggie.  I can handle it.  I don’t need any help.

             
I turn my attention to my fingers.  Wiggle.  Check.  So my fingers are ok. 

             
Toes.  Wiggle.  Check.  So I’m not paralyzed. 

             
When I turn my head I feel nauseous.  I see that my arms are actually taped to the railing of the hospital bed.  So that is why I can’t really move around.  I fight the urge to throw up, I will make a mess all over myself.  I barely win, and the effort has caused sweat to break out on my forehead.  I am almost out of breath just from that little bit of effort.  I fade out.

             
When I come to a doctor is checking my vitals.  “Ah, you’re awake.  How do you feel?”

             
“Queasy,” I croak.  I guess I need more ice water.

             
“Yes, we had to pump your stomach.  You were in bad shape, but you should be back to 100% in a few days.”

             
“Oh.”

             
That was all I could get out.  Guess I had too much Champagne.  As the doc leaves and I am alone again, I try to think back and figure out what happened. 

             
Mr. Old and Lonely picked me up in front of the Arch right on time.  We headed to one of the most expensive restaurants in London, Le Gavroche.   I found the moss green walls and patterned carpet soothing after my bright white apartment.  We were seated, the place was crowded yet the sounds were muted, like all elegant places seem to have a built in volume level that is acceptable.  A social agreement amongst the elite to keep the sound down.  Weird.

             
We started off with the best Champagne, as per my request.  I had to pass on the outstanding cheese to keep my figure and I decided to settle for some salmon surrounded by rabbit food.  When I am older and filthier rich than I am now, I swear I am going to go face first in a box of donuts and not come up until they are all gone.

             
Normal night, normal conversation.  Old and Lonely was keeping
me
from feeling lonely and the night wore on.  I do distinctly remember getting out of his rented town car in front of the Arch and letting him kiss me on the cheek.  None of them get to know exactly where I live, so I tottered along as if I were going to walk into the park.

             
Off he went. 

             
Oh, yes; I remember now.  I didn’t want to go back up to that huge space all alone so I set off to a local pub.  I remember all heads turned to me when I walked in and drinks were offered…then it is a blank.  Guess I drank a little too much.

             
However, here I am now, safe and sound.  I think a little more water is all I need and I should be off for home.  Get some boosters and check in with my manager.  I can tell that isn’t what Nurse Biggie has in mind; I have to play it slow and cool until she is done fussing over me.  So after some more water and terrible pudding I am able to pull the tape off my wrists and then I ease the IV needle out of my arm.   I find a bandage to put over the beading little bit of blood and search around for my clothes. 

             
Yep, exactly what I was wearing last night.  Or was it the night before?  Who cares?  Damn, there are some scuffs on my Manolos.  Must have fallen.   That sucks, they were $700.

             
I gather up my purse and head out the door.  You learn to stride when you’re a model, and no one messes with anyone who is walking with such determination, even if they do look a little ragged.  So out of the hospital I go and hail a cab.  That was easy.  I was expecting Nurse Biggie to spot me and come waddling after me. 

* * *

              Nothing a little coffee and cocaine can’t put right.  I am sitting on my balcony and looking out over greater London.  I’ve just checked in with Aldo and my next fashion show is set for next week.  Then I have a stretch off.  Wonder what I should do with my free time.  I can’t stand to be here in my apartment for more than a day or two. 

             
It’s been at least eight years since I actually saw Mother, but I don’t think I’m up to that.  Let her sit and stew for a few more years.  No trip to Texas in my near future.  Dad?  Naw, I assume he is busy on some movie shoot in British Columbia, Toronto or some such place.  I don’t even bother to call and check.  He lives just a few blocks away, but I also don’t feel up to a visit with him for different reasons.  I loathe my parents.

             
I look down at the bruise on the top of my wrist where the IV was stuck.  I’m so bored I could scream.  I’ve been home an hour and the silence is driving me crazy.  I decide I’m going to get back online and see if there is another active and rich old guy who wants to keep me company today. 

             
I’m always a hit; it wasn’t much longer than a half an hour before I got a taker.  I’m off to drag some old man shopping with me.  A great opportunity to replace my Manolos with the newest Jimmy Choos. 
 

* * *

             
“The only reason I took the liberty to call you, Mr. Collins, was because she just left – disappeared.  I’m worried that she may have injuries we didn’t pick up on because I never had a chance to talk to her in depth.  I don’t even know how she got to the waiting room of the hospital, I don’t know if she took a cab or someone dropped her off here.  That means we have no history about all she took or drank that night, this is a very serious situation.”

             
“Thank you, doc.  I’ll head over to her place right now.  You did the right thing by calling me.” 

             
Heath clicked off his mobile.  A flood of fear ran through him.  If Natalie just ran off from her hospital room, she really could be injured.  And as she was the daughter of an American movie star based in London and a fashion model in her own right, if he didn’t nip this disaster in the bud, it could be all over the gossip rags in hours. 

             
If they really got a taste for the blood in the water, they may start to dig into Natalie’s past.  That could ruin her career, and maybe his too.
Sure,
he thought to himself,
I can say mine too.  Natalie is the most important thing here, and I do love her, but I am a practical man and I know some things a career can’t come back from. 

             
Heath hailed a cab and jumped in.  He had a very nice car, but in a big city, you had to rent a space in a garage and it was half-way across town.  He didn’t want to waste any time, he had to get to his daughter’s flat and see if she was OK.  He settled into the back seat and went over the conversation he had just had with the ER doctor.

             
At least not every human was out to make a buck off of other people’s tragedies.  Heath made a mental note to send some premier tickets to the doc with a thank you card.  Then he grabbed his coat, slide out of the taxi and set off down the warm spring sidewalks in search of Natalie.  He planned to start with her apartment, but if she wasn’t there, he was going to hit every pub along the park until he found her.

             
George smiled as he opened the massive gold doors.  Heath tipped the man without breaking stride.  Heath never passed through the doors without slipping the doorman money.  It got him two very important things:  it ensured that George would be on his side if there ever was an issue or if he needed to get in on the sly and it also ensured that if any tabloid reporter happened to ask, he would be seen as a generous man who always treated the ‘working’ man well.

             
George was a working man.  He worked six days a week, with Mondays off.  He was a fairly tall fellow, with hair that was now more grey than brown.  He ate well, but kept from being too overweight because he was so tall and because he was on his feet all day.  He always had a smile for the rich folks who lived here, and you had to be wealthy to live right in the middle of historic London.  He wasn’t really disappointed with his work.  It was, frankly, easy.  Open the door.  Call up if there were packages or visitors.  Open umbrellas, shake out coats.  And though he was paid a very small salary that would hardly keep him in a 1 bedroom flat, the tips were outrageous and all off the books.  He made more than one man could use, in his opinion. 

             
George had married a woman who let alcohol take over.  It had killed her when their daughter was only twelve.  Kristan had hated him for not being able to save her mother, and had rushed off as soon as she could.  George was never a brilliant man, and the emotional turmoil of his wife’s death and his daughters blame broke him.  He knew of no way to explain to Kristan how hard he had tried. 

             
So, George popped on his snappy hat above his snappy uniform and opened the big gold door all day long.  He took the 11am to 9pm shift.  It was the busiest, tipped well and kept him busy.  He didn’t realize he had a lot in common with Natalie Collins.  They both could not stand to be home alone for their own reasons.  He did recognize that something about Natalie called to him.  Maybe it was because his own daughter was out of his life.  All he could do for Kristan was tuck all his tip money into an account for her and hope she used it well when he died.  She would be a rich woman.

             
In the meantime, he looked out for Natalie as much as he could.  He always made sure he placed a call to Ellen when Natalie headed into a cab with bags packed.  That meant Ellen could do a deep clean of the flat.  If Natalie was home for more than two days, he would call Ellen for a quick clean when Natalie headed out in a sparkly dress.  He made sure to send a stern look at the few men he caught following Natalie to her home.  Once they knew he had spied them, they slipped away.  All these things were small things.  It was all George could do.  His heart sank when he saw the look on Heath’s face as he marched passed this particular afternoon.

             
Natalie was not home.  George knew this, but it was not his place to mention it.  Heath used his key to let himself in.  He looked around the apartment and could tell that she had been there not too long ago.  He poured a cup of coffee and went out on the balcony to wait.  Heath gave up after an hour.  He had already pushed back his tee time with a prominent Member of Parliament.  MP Henry Gallons from London was a sure way to stay on the A list of all party invitations and get into the most exclusive golf courses. 

             
Heath convinced himself that if Natalie had come home and fixed coffee before heading out again, she at least was cleaned up and looking presentable.  He planned to catch up to her after a nice golf outing.

* * *

              It was two days later when he finally stopped by Natalie’s  apartment when she was home.  He knocked and opened the door at the same time, he wasn’t going to let her claim she was sick or make up some excuse to not let him in.

* * *

              “Hi Dad.  How nice of you to drop by.”

             
“I was worried about you, Natalie.”

             
“Oh, I’m sure you were.”

             
“You were in hospital, for God’s sake!” 

             
I just smile at him. I know it drives him nuts.

             
“What happened? Are you alright?”

             
“I’m fine.  Now you must run along.  I have to get showered and get ready for dinner.”  I wave my hand at him.  Nice and dismissive.  I know it won’t work, but I can still annoy him.

             
“You are going to sit down and talk to me like an adult.  That is, if you want me to treat
you
like one.”

             
Ah, he brings out the big guns.  He knows I have basically raised myself since I was 14 and I hate being treated like a little kid. 

             
“And you know so much about treating me like a kid
or
a grown up, huh?”  I lean in toward him and give him a vicious smile.  Looking him right in the eye, I put my hand on my hip and wait.

             
“That’s not fair.  Your mother divorced me and made it clear I was not welcome.  I saw you whenever I could.  You’re trying to change the subject, just like your mother.”

             
Nasty.  Like my mother?  No way in hell.  I’m starting to get angry.  Starting to boil up and then I’ll just end up screaming and throwing a fit.  That smug look on his face is more than I can stand. 

             
I grab a crystal vase and smash it on the wall beside his head.

             
Heath comes in at me.  He still has about a foot on me, even though I am just shy of six feet tall (as any respectable model would be) and who knows how much more he weighs.  I can’t help it.  I scream and kick out.  He grabs me around the waist and ducks in under my flaying arms.