It Must Have Been Love (3 page)

There was an extremely loud sigh of relief, which echoed through the long empty white corridor as Angie exited the crowded elevator. She promised herself that she would leave the building via the four flights of stairs. Her heels clicked noisily on the shiny floor, and feeling conspicuous, Angie began to tiptoe. It was taking too long though, so noise or no noise, she had to get a move on. Now walking much heavier on her feet the heel clanking grew louder as she began to hurry along the passage way. Pausing for a split second to read each door sign, she was beginning to think she had been given the wrong directions. Then finally, she found the department she was looking for.

Once through the double doors Angie approached the nurse’s station, clearing her throat as she walked.

“Excuse me, I was told that my husband, Christopher Morris, was here. How is he, is he badly hurt, could I see him?” Although she had promised herself to remain calm, Angie was spewing out the questions without giving the nurse time to answer.

The nurse, who was an average-built ‘forty-something’ redhead, calmly walked round from behind the counter, smiled and touched Angie gently on the arm. The light touch accompanied by a genuine smile was enough to reassure Angie, at least for the moment anyway.

“Now, first things first. Yes, your husband is here Mrs. Morris. My name is Louise Brannagan, and I’ll take you to see Christopher. We’ve given him something for the pain, so he might be sleeping. Don’t be shocked by the bruises. He’s been checked over, and apart from a cracked rib and a fractured ankle, he’s going to be fine. Someone must have been watching over him, that’s all I can say.”

“Do you know what happened, Nurse Brannagan? I just got told to come here. I haven’t got a clue what happened to him.”

“Well, witnesses said Christopher swerved his car to miss a stray dog on the road. Some of the cars had been beeping their horns to scare the dog off the road, but it was just getting more panicked by the racket. Your husband’s car actually went airborne before it rolled over; so I’d say he’s one lucky guy. One witness told the paramedics Christopher’s CD player was still blasting after the crash. The guy had reached in and turned it off. Maybe Christopher hadn’t heard the beeping horns because of the loud music. Anyway, you can ask him yourself in a moment.”

“It’s just like him to risk killing himself rather than hit a dog, and it’s just like him to have the music blasting,” Angie responded angrily.

“Well don’t be too hard on him, these things happen all the time. At least he wasn’t seriously hurt. I’m sure you’ll be laughing and joking about it, this time next week. Oh yeah, here’s something you can tease Christopher about when you get him home. Get this; the guy said that the CD was blasting out ‘everybody hurts sometimes’ as he went to turn the music off. I mean that’s the last thing you want to hear when you’re lying upside down with a busted ankle and cracked rib.”

Although Angie wanted to tell the jolly nurse that she couldn’t remember the last time the couple had joked about anything, she resisted the urge to do so. “Can I see him now, Nurse Brannagan?”

“Yes, come on, let’s go, and please call me Louise, everyone else does. Nurse Brannagan sounds so stuffy, don’t you think?” the upbeat nurse laughed.

Before Angie had time to answer her, the jolly nurse was heading down the hospital corridor rather quickly. Angie struggled to keep up with the cheerful nurse as she walked briskly along, past the chattering nurses and hospital carts. Stepping over some unidentifiable liquid and dodging the hospital cleaning lady as she mopped away the spillage, Nurse Louise continued until she arrived at the last door on the left.

“Alrighty Mrs. Morris, here we are. Now remember what I said about the bruises.”

“Call me Angie. Could I ask you to do one small thing? Would you come in with me, please?”

“Yes, of course I’ll come in with you, but honestly there’s no need to panic.” With a reassuring smile, the cheerful nurse led Angie into the small four-bedded room. Despite the ability to house four patients, there were only two occupants in this room. Angie followed the loud sound of snoring to the bed next to the window, but it was coming from an elderly man and not Chris. Directly opposite the noisy sleeper, the curtains were drawn, presumably hiding the silent occupant. The nurse sprinted across the room, flat leather shoes squeaking as she went. Angie followed on tiptoes, in a considerate attempt to avoid waking the snoring patient with the sound of her clanking heels. Her efforts were somewhat wasted, as Nurse Louise grabbed hold of the bed curtain and swished it back noisily along the rails.

“Got a visitor here for you, Christopher,” she boomed, oblivious to her own volume level and to its effect on the recently slumbering man in the bed opposite.

Angie was somewhat shocked by the bruises on his face, but not at all shocked that throughout the din Chris had remained asleep. He had always been a sound sleeper and it had always fallen on her shoulders to wake him each morning. The alarm clock would make him fidget slightly, but rarely would he awaken with anything less than a hefty nudge in the ribs from Angie. She had often wondered how he had been managing to wake up every morning since he moved out, but had never actually asked him.

“Why don’t you sit down and take the load off your feet? I’m sure Christopher will wake up when the effect of the painkillers begins to wear off.”

“Oh it’s not the drugs. Chris would probably sleep through an earthquake unless I gave him a dig in the ribs.” Angie had suddenly got cold feet, and was in reality glad that Chris was sleeping. Before she had even fully sat on the uncomfortable looking chair next to Chris’s bed, she had already made up her mind that she needed to get her thoughts straight, and she couldn’t do that here. Half standing, half sitting, Angie felt compelled to make her excuses and leave in a hurry.  “I think I might just go back home and take care of a few things.”

“Yes of course. I expect you need to make phone calls, contact family members, etc.”

“Chris has no family now, just me. But I will have to call his boss, who won’t be at all pleased,” Angie commented with a hint of bitterness as she screwed up her face.

“I gather you don’t like his boss?”

“No, I do not. Kenny Blackett is a hard-faced manager who hasn’t got a caring bone in his body. When Chris’ grandmother died, that callous cretin wanted Chris to fit her funeral around his shift schedule. He won’t care how badly hurt Chris is, he’ll only be concerned about when Chris will be back at work.” Angie was very bitter and she had good cause to be. Kenny Blackett knew that Chris needed to keep his job, and for years he had taken full advantage of that fact. Chris had put in more hours than anyone else at the store, he had spent most of the holidays working, and he did all the lousy evening shifts that nobody else wanted to do.

Angie and Chris had always planned to start their own business one day, but something always got in the way. Every time payday came around, they would put something aside in their savings. They knew they’d need substantial savings behind them to keep them afloat until their business took off. Boosting their savings was just one of the reasons why Chris worked so hard. Then the couple decided that having a family was more important and that the business could wait. Their business plans were temporarily put on hold but the saving continued, as they eagerly prepared to become parents. Before they knew it the years had flown by, the economy was in ruins, and businesses were closing every single day.

“Listen, you head off home and take care of things. Leave me your number and when Christopher wakes up I’ll give you a call. My shift ends around 7 p.m. this evening, but I’ll be back in around 8 o’clock in the morning. If you don’t hear from me before my shift ends then you know he’s still asleep. You can come back in to see him at any time, but if all goes well, he’ll probably be ready to be discharged sometime tomorrow. Try not to worry, I’m sure things will seem a whole lot better once hewakes up and he can tell you how he’s feeling.”

“Thanks, Louise, you’ve been so kind,” Angie smiled, “and you’re right too. I’m sure I’m worrying over nothing. I think I just need to keep myself busy, and there’s plenty of stuff to keep me busy at home.” It seemed to Angie that she had been blowing things all out of proportion, and by this time tomorrow the panic would be over for good. She still had to work out whether she should come out and ask Chris to stay with her until his broken bones healed, but there was plenty of time to talk about that tomorrow.

The walk back to the staircase was slower and much more relaxed. It gave Angie enough time to gather her thoughts and she decided that she would take the staircase, catch the bus home and take care of business.

When Angie arrived back home she made herself a sandwich and a cup of coffee before turning on the TV and flopping onto the modern plush velvety black sofa. Next, reaching for the notepad and pen from the coffee table, she decided to make a list of things to do. She often found that the mere act of making a list focused the mind, and that prevented the imagination from working overtime. The first thing she would do was make the phone call to Chris’s boss. Of course he would hum and haw about it all, but it wouldn’t change a thing. For once, Kenny Blackett would just have to find someone else to take advantage of.

Waiting for her coffee to cool off, Angie flicked through the TV channels on the remote control, while at the same time munching on a hastily made salad sandwich. Mayonnaise dripping from her chin, she settled for their favorite music channel. Turning down the volume, Angie reluctantly decided that as soon as she’d finished eating she’d make the call to Chris’s boss. When she did finally make the call, it was just as Angie had expected, but she politely listened to Mr. Blackett’s moans and groans before telling him she would keep him updated. She would have gladly loved to give him a piece of her mind, as it was long overdue. However, she knew that now was not the time to add to the problems, so she kept those thoughts to herself.

With the dreaded phone call over, Angie checked her list. She would need to gather some of Chris’s clothes to take to the hospital. Thankfully, Chris had left most of his belongings here in the apartment. Perhaps as a sign that he hoped to move back in at some point, or perhaps until things became final and he found himself somewhere permanent to live. At present, Chris was staying in a rather run down hotel. It was pretty dismal and shabby, but with Chris working so much, he didn’t have to spend much of his time there anyway. When Angie had suggested he stay somewhere nicer, Chris told her it was good enough for the moment. In his opinion, paying anything more than he had to was a waste of his hard earned money. Some guys might have been able to crash on a friend’s couch, but Chris had lost touch with most of his true friends after they got married. Since Chris’s grandmother had died, he had no relatives to give him a place to stay, so he was on his own. Angie began to think about Chris, and how lonely it must have been as a child. Although Chris didn’t complain about his upbringing it must have been a pretty hard time for him.

Christopher Morris was born on November 24th 1969, ten days after his mother’s birthday, and in the year that anything seemed possible. The first man had landed on the moon, and Catherine and Michael Morris were having their first child. It had taken nine long years for Catherine to conceive and give birth to a healthy baby boy. It should have been the happiest time for the couple, but by the time Chris was two years old, his father had run off with a girl from the factory where he worked. Chris’s mother moved back in with her parents, Emma and Joseph Scott, and while his grandmother looked after him, his mother took a low paying job in a plastics factory. She worked long hours, and over the next few years, he didn’t get to see much of her, but he always knew that she loved him.

When Chris was five years old his mother became sick. She battled on, going to work each day, taking all the extra shifts they would give her. She would joke that she didn’t have time to be ill. When she collapsed at work she was finally forced to go and see the doctor, but by then it was too late. A seemingly pointless operation only served to temporarily delay the inevitable, and three months later Catherine Emily Morris died from breast cancer at the age of thirty-six.

Chris remained in the care of his grandparents, and after his grandfather died when he was almost twelve, his grandmother soldiered on single-handed. They had very little money but she gave him all the love in the world, and he grew up to be a kind hearted gentle man. The generation gap between Chris and his grandparents had caused pressures at times, but he also had the advantage of gaining an insight into what it was like in his grandparents’ day. They told him how hard things were and he was taught to appreciate everything that he had. The wisdom that only comes through life experience was bestowed on him by both his grandfather and grandmother, but the terrible jokes came solely from his grandfather.