Care for Another?

Here we go again, Nicole being all self-important and trying to push her writing on us readers... Don't lie to me and tell me that you don't love it because I know you do! 

I thought I would share with you a different story that I have been working on for the past 2-3 years- it's one story that hasn't come easy to me, but I've tried to push past my usual story plot to challenge myself. I feel like it has the potential to hold so much more meaning and emotion packed into it. I've reached about 50,000 words for this one but I know that it needs serious reworking at every single chapter.

Let me know what you think about it! I hope you enjoy :D

An Angel's Infant

 

Prologue…

“This baby’s daddy is an angel.”

 A stab of pain shocks my body into convulsions with my hand instinctively finding and clutching at my stomach as if by miracle I can keep the little life inside of me from coming out. A lone, salty tear streaks down my face as a cruel representation of my life. Mascara clings to the droplet of water leaving the permanent trace of the agony for everyone to see. The tree above shelters me from the blazing sun for which I am thankful for, already drying up the wet patch I had previously made on the floor. Breathing in and out with shallow breaths was probably the only thing I can remember from the weeks of antenatal classes despite the fact I had paid copious attention to them. I reach for my phone and scroll through the contacts searching for the one person that I need most; the one person that keeps me from giving up on everything.

Pressing the call button on the phone, I wait impatiently for the rings to stop and a voice to be heard. Through clenched teeth and shallow breaths as I ride out another contraction, I mutter incomprehensible words down the receiver, “Mum, I… need… you.” The sudden surge of pain racking through my body makes me drop my phone on the floor as a contraction takes over my whole body rendering me useless and paralysed.

The world around me carries on as normal, as if I am invisible, something I've felt for most of my adult life and I drag myself over to the bench on the other side of the street with no help or assistance. I'm not surprised by the lack of help, it’s London after all and unless paperwork is flying around being carried by the wind, nobody bats an eyelash. I grab my phone and stab in the numbers ‘999’.

“Ambulance please.” Breathe in and out, in and out, I tell myself constantly for something to keep my mind from thinking over everything that has lead me to this situation. “Oxford Street, come quick please, my baby is coming.” I place my hands protectively around my stomach trying to be strong for my little one. It's only ever going to me and the little bean; I was going to be its everything and it was going to be mine. “It's okay baby, hold on. Mummy's got you.” I scream out in pain not caring about the etiquettes of being in public.

“Hello, are you okay?”

My hair drops down over my face, I push it back, and I can feel that it is slightly tinged with sweat from the exertion my body is placing in trying to deliver my miracle into the world. I peer up cautiously into the eyes of a businessman; I am tempted to look around to see if paperwork is flying but know that I need someone right now, even if it is a stranger.

 “Oh, yes. I'm just dandy. You know? I might even go play a bit of squash in a minute, get the old heart racing.” My sarcasm makes the man laugh unintentionally and he sits down next to me much to my surprise and secret delight.

 “Wrong question right, I have no idea what you need to do but I have a hand and I've seen the movies. Nobody should have to go through it alone, and until your husband comes, I shall lend you a hand.”

He holds out his tanned, muscular hand and I inspect it for a while choosing not to correct him about my husband coming to help me through. Thick black hairs cover part of his hand and even in my current predicament, I can't help but think that there's something extremely sexy about this. I feel my whole belly tighten and I anticipate the agony that I know will come only too soon preparing myself for the worst. Instinctively I grab for his hand needing the support, and the warm sensation that courses through my body soothes me, even if just for a little while.

I turn to look at him properly now that the pain has subsided for a bit, his grey eyes flecked with green tantalise me into feeling a sense of safety. His lips are perfectly carved whereby his bottom lip is bigger than his top, tingeing a rosy colour of red. His skin is smooth with a light golden tan, which suggests that he works abroad for his job. Stubble outlines his chin, a suggestion that he is a workaholic. I daydream for a while what it would be like to have someone beside me in this moment of time, but immediately come crashing down to the ground when the ambulance finally arrives and I realise that my perfectly created scene is just a daydream.

After the initial meet-and-greet, the paramedic lowers me into a wheelchair transporting me to the ambulance whilst soothing me with words of hope, promise and excitement.

“Do you want to come in the ambulance daddy-to-be or follow in your own car?” The bubbly ambulance lady directs at the man and I flame with redness as she misinterprets the situation.  

 “He’s not the daddy... This baby’s daddy is an angel.” Tears spring in my eyes and I swallow the lump formed in my throat before it has a chance to escape. I hold onto the man’s hand trying to relay how much it meant to me that he stopped.

"Thank you for keeping me company, I really appreciate it.” His lips pull up into a smile.

 “No problem, I'm Mark.”

 “Sarah.” I flinch as he places a hand on my bump unexpectedly but I let him.

“You be good for your Mummy," He says to the bump before looking up into my eyes and momentarily taking my breath away. "Good luck, Sarah.” Our hands part and I smile; the ambulance doors close and I concentrate on the miracle that is inside me.