Forfeit (Original Edit)

Chapter Thirty-Four

On June 28th, I peered through a small window in a hospital door as Xander walked over to the pale, unconscious body of Ms Tabitha Catherine Doyle. Machines next to her flashed and beeped, signalling she was still clinging on to this world. Marcus sat at her bedside, stroking her hair, just as I'd done for him six weeks ago.

Xander hadn't spoken to her since March, but now he perched on the side of her bed and held her hand. I might not care about Tabitha bloody Doyle but, despite everything she'd done to split us up, Xander did.

I refused to go in.

I'd been making tea for my builders when Marcus rang to tell us she'd taken an overdose and she might not make it. Tabitha could die and what had my initial reaction? Hurrah. The stupid cow had tried to ruin my life and she'd slept with my husband. What should I do? Look worried and feel sorry for her? Lie through my teeth and question why she'd do such a thing? Or dance a merry little jig? Ding dong, the bitch is nearly dead.

I stared out of the vast Georgian windows, admiring the perfect June day - twenty-two degrees and not a cloud to mar the cyan sky. The hospital gardens were real Ratty and Mole country, with the river and sprawling view of the fells. Hell, there was even a picturesque stone footbridge and huge willow tree downstream.

For God's sake, I needed to get my head together not dream of picnics and dangling my feet in the water.

Was I supposed to cry? I didn't feel like crying. I'd actually said to Xander last week, I hoped I never saw her again. So I wouldn't miss her, but wasn't I worried she might die? No. I wasn't worried. Her bed, she made it. Bugger it, bugger her and bugger that I should feel sorry for her.

James and a doctor walked towards where I sat in one of the visitors chairs. From James' reddened eyes, he didn't go for the strong, silent routine. The doctor went into Tabitha's room but, to my surprise, James sat next to me.

'Are you okay?' I asked.

He shook his head and I put my arm around him. To my astonishment, he let me.

'Her parents are in Sri Lanka,' he said, his voice cracking as he rested his head against mine. 'Opening a school they paid for.'

Her poor parents. They'd be feeling smug and worthy only to be told their darling daughter was lying in a hospital bed after taking far, far too many recreational drugs. I could've throttled Tabitha bloody Doyle.

God, if she genuinely did this then I felt for her, but what the hell made her so unhappy she'd do this? Didn't get the Corrie gig? Rather cynically, my money was on this being an attempted suicide - aiming to look vulnerable so she'd score several gossip column inches. It'd worked so well for her in January.

Xander's eyes darted around when he came out and I wanted to go to him but James leapt up, dragging him off to talk in a corner. Marcus hobbled towards me on his crutches.

'Doc's booting us out 'til this evening,' he said. 'They need to run tests and she needs to rest. Whatever, she's in a bloody coma. We're going back to ours. I need a fag and a very large glass of something white.'

How the hell could I get out of drinking and smoking without telling Marcus I was pregnant? Panicked, I glanced at Xander, hoping for an 'it'll be fine' wink or supportive nod. Instead, he donned a pair of sunglasses James had given him and stalked towards the exit. I'd never seen Xander in sunglasses - he was undoubtedly hiding his eyes. Why didn't boys just cry?

I managed to smile my thanks to the grungy porter who held the door open for us. You'd think management at a private place like this would insist on smarter staff. The porter stared at my arse as I walked past and I tried not to grin. Even pregnant, I could still pull. Hurrah.