Ella Harper - Pieces of You.

‘We are such saps; I love it.’ Luke headed out of the room, throwing a grin over his shoulder. ‘Laters, dude.’

I held up a hand in farewell, the other wrapped around my tummy.

Five hours later

My back felt tight and cramps spiralled through my groin. I slowly lowered myself on to the bed. I hadn’t imagined it. That burning sensation I had been feeling earlier down one side of my groin was becoming more acute, the pain thrumming through my body. To think that earlier, all I was worrying about was burnt meringues and leathery lamb. Now, my adrenalin was pumping like crazy and I could hear rushing in my ears.

Where was Luke? I had left him a message, just a brief one, calm and without a hint of panic, but I hadn’t heard back from him. The panic I had hidden was taking hold, gripping me round the throat. I needed to talk to someone, but it was Sunday; my midwife didn’t seem to be on call today. I’d left her a message, too, not bothering to hide my terror this time.

I took some deep breaths, trying to work out whether I could move. There wasn’t any blood; that had to be a good sign. The other times, there had always been blood. Blood before any proper cramps. I was tired, I had morning sickness from dawn until dusk and I was suffering from crippling migraines. But these were symptoms of a normal pregnancy; I had been assured of this.

Where the hell was Luke? His shift was a four hour one, I remembered him saying that. It had been five hours now and he still wasn’t back.

My entire body felt icy with fear. The fear gripped me like a hand around my throat, choking me, squeezing until I could barely breathe. I was trying my best to stay calm, not to think the worst. But the pain was increasing with every passing second. My gut was telling me that something was very wrong. I needed Luke. Luke was the only person who could ever support me in these situations. He was the only person who understood me, who knew how to pull me out of the pit of despair I was spiralling into. Or to catch me if the worst happened.

I gasped as another painful cramp consumed me. I scrabbled for my mobile again. I could call Dee. I needed to speak to someone, to be reassured. No, I needed to get to hospital. Although I knew that if something had started to go wrong, there wasn’t much that could stop it. I had been here before, so many times. But still, I needed to go. I just … didn’t want to move. I just wanted to hold off a tiny bit longer, cling to the dream for a few more seconds. As soon as I called someone, it would become real.

Another sharp cramp shocked me with its force and made me reach for my mobile. This wasn’t right; it didn’t feel right. As a strong cramp tore through me, I bent over and screamed.

Twelve hours later

‘Sweetheart, are you all right?’

I opened my eyes to find an unfamiliar face looming above mine. The eyes were full of sympathy and there was a hand holding my shoulder firmly. I was in a bed, but it wasn’t mine; it was hard and unyielding and there was a starchy sheet pulled up around me, the cotton crisp.

‘You were crying in your sleep,’ the woman said, patting me. ‘It’s totally understandable in the circumstances. I’ve just started my shift, so I’ll be here all night with you. Just call if you need me.’ She moved away quietly, tending to someone else in a bed nearby.

Crying in my sleep? I blinked. My eyelids felt heavy and sore. I was in a hard bed with stiff sheets and the woman – I checked out the unflattering uniform – was a nurse. I was in hospital. What was I doing here? Where was Luke? I shifted myself up, beginning to feel scared. I felt bruised, inside and out. I moved my hands tentatively until they were on my stomach. It wasn’t flat and it still felt firm-ish but I could tell it was … hollow. Empty.

I felt a sob rising in my throat. The memories came back in a rush: the pain, the frantic phone calls to the midwife, to Luke, and eventually, to Dee, who must’ve called the hospital. I gripped the sheet. Doctors, nurses, my clothes being removed, a gown being tied. My hand being held tightly by someone (Dee? A nurse?) and screaming for Luke. But he hadn’t come. And I had … God, I couldn’t even think about what I’d had to go through. Stillborn, they said. Just one of those dreadful, regrettable things, they said, stroking my sticky hair from my face.

My beautiful, four-month-old baby … the baby we had longed for, was gone forever. They said it was a girl. This, I had taken in. A girl. A girl who should have had stars on her ceiling and a pretty, lilac bedroom.

I put my hands on my face and started sobbing, chest heaving, shoulders shaking.

‘Oh, darling.’ Dee appeared carrying two paper cups with lids. Her blonde hair was in disarray and she was wearing a pair of Hello Kitty pyjama trousers and a massive grey Transformers T-shirt that must have belonged to Dan. ‘I’m so desperately sorry.’

I started to cry again, hating myself for being such a girl. But it mattered, it mattered so much. The pain was unbearable. Not the physical pain, the other kind.

Dee put down the coffee. ‘I guessed your news at the barbecue when you didn’t drink Dan’s sangria.’ She took my hand and squeezed it. ‘I don’t even know what to say to you because it’s so bloody cruel. I’m so fucking angry that this has happened to you again.’

‘Where’s Luke?’ My voice sounded croaky.

Dee shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I’ve been so worried about you, I left it to Dan. He’s been calling and calling, but he can’t track him down.’

‘Did you check my phone?’

Dee bit her lip. ‘No. Sorry, Lucy; I didn’t even think … it’s all been so dramatic …’

‘It’s okay. I’ll have a look. Where is it Nurse?’

The nurse turned back to us. She picked up my notes and then her expression changed. ‘Lucy Harte? I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. You’re Luke Harte’s wife.’

‘Yes.’ I sat up. ‘Has something happened?’

Dee stood up, her eyes darting around. ‘What’s going on? Please tell us.’

The nurse hung the notes back on the bed, her mouth tight. ‘I’m going to get someone to come and see you. Wait here please, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

I turned to Dee urgently. ‘My phone …’

She rummaged in the bedside cabinet and found it. ‘Here. Jesus, there are tons of missed messages. Are they from him?’

‘No. Oh my God. I can’t … Dee.’ I listened to one of the messages. ‘They’re from Joe, Luke’s partner. Christ, he’s been in an accident – a serious one …’ I put a hand to my mouth. ‘We have to find him, now. Dee, help me … please .’ I flipped back the sheet and swung my legs over the side of the bed, trembling as my feet hit the cold floor.

Dee stood paralysed. ‘Shouldn’t we just wait? Oh fuck it, we’re doing this. I brought you some clothes …’

‘No time. I want to find Luke.’ I was petrified. What had happened to Luke?

‘I get that, but … hang on.’ Dee tore off her T-shirt, revealing a pink vest top. ‘Put this on. And these.’ She grabbed a pair of my flip flops from the side cabinet and threw them down by my feet. Grimly determined in spite of my fear, I led the way and we took a lift, two sets of stairs and meandered down several corridors. Dee kept trying to thrust me into empty wheelchairs that were lying around, but I refused, pausing only once to ask someone the way. The slap, slap, slap of my flip flops on the scrubbed hospital floor was driving me nuts, the sound incongruous against the relative hush of the corridors.

We were given directions to Luke’s room and my heart threatened to leap out of my chest. I felt Dee reaching for my hand and I curled my fingers around hers.