Patrick meets a mysterious nurse whilst visiting in hospital
“Excuse me, Sir” The gentle female voice made him jump awake.
“I’m sorry” he apologised “I hadn’t realised I was asleep”
“S’alright,” she replied “I’ve done it myself before now.” She smiled at him and sat on her chair next to her paperwork. As he blinked himself awake he couldn’t help but look at her. She was beautiful. She was a little taller than he, with shiny dark brown hair held in a pony tail high on the back of her head. She had large brown eyes, ringed with eyeliner, and even in her unisex scrubs he could see she had a good body. He watched as she drew lines and made calculations on her large sheet of paper. He rubbed his eyes and adjusted himself in the chair. She smiled at him again
“Just to let you know, though, visiting hours end in half an hour” She wasn’t American. He couldn’t place her accent though.
“I know, thanks” her eyes met his.
“You’re a regular then?”
“Yeah, everyday for the last four weeks. I’ve never seen you before.”
“Ah, I’m the new girl. For my sins. I’ve been here two months.”
“How are you finding it?”
“Its alright, it’s not London.” Ah, she was British.
“And that’s a bad thing?” she giggled
“Yes, and No.”
“How so?” he enquired, turning the chair to face her properly.
“Um… better equipment, different uniforms, and different responsibilities. But…no family and few friends.” She ended sadly.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“What made you move here anyway? I’m guessing from your accent that you’re not a local.” She giggled again
“I knew that gave me away. It’s a long story, and I hardly know you.”
“What can I do for you to tell me?” He smiled back at her, she blushed.
“I don’t think I can answer that.” His smile broadened
“Really” She rolled her eyes
“Not like that! Jeez! Men!” She shook her head and returned her attentions to her work. Deflated, Patrick sat back in his chair. The clock ticked, the ventilator whooshed again, the cardiac monitor beeped. The nurse’s pen scratched against the paper. She began to hum quietly to herself. He recognised the tune. It was one of his.
“That’s a good song.” She jumped.
“The one you’re humming”
“I suppose it is. The lyrics are odd but the tune is good.”
“Thanks. I think” the nurse looked confused.
“I’m sorry, what?” Patrick stood up and held out his hand.
“Patrick Stump, lead singer and composer of Fall Out Boy,” The nurse blinked.
“Of course you are. Alexandra Willow. Intensive Care Nurse and general Idiot.” She shook his hand. And shook his hand, and shook his hand.
“Um, Alexandra, you can let go now.” She looked down and saw she was still holding his hand.
Oh, God, Sorry.” She let go. Patrick returned to his chair, his hand still tingling from her powerful grip.
“I don’t mean to be nosey, but is there a Mr Willow?” Alexandra raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t mean to be nosey, but is there a Mrs Stump?”
“Heartbroken?” she nodded
“Want to talk about it?”
“Can I take you out for Coffee?”
“That recent huh?”
“Can you form sentences, or are you going to answer me with one word answers for the rest of the night?” Alexandra opened her mouth, as if to speak, then closed it and started laughing.
“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” Patrick smiled.
“Don’t you bloody start!” Patrick stood, and joined her at her desk. Alexandra gave him a sideways glance and smiled as he took in her chart. Red, green and black ink coloured the paper as Alexandra recorded every drop of medication that went into, and eventually out of, the comatose Peter Wentz lying in the bed before them.
“Looks complicated” Alexandra shrugged
“Its not, really. Not when you know how to fill it in and what it all means.”
“And how long did it take you to learn”
“About five years, all told. Three to train, another year of post-graduate experience and one year in a similar ward to this one in London.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It is.” Alexandra shifted in her seat to fill in another section of the sheet. As she leaned forward, Patrick gazed at her exposed neck as her pony tail fell to one side. He longed to touch it. There was something about this girl, he wasn’t sure what it was, but he hadn’t felt it for a while. Slowly he reached his hand towards her neck. He may get a slap, but at this stage he didn’t care. Without warning, Alexandra sat backwards colliding with his hand as she did so.
“S-sorry, you had something on your shoulder; I was trying to wipe it off. It’s gone now” he faltered as she checked her shoulders to bits of “something”
“Ok, honey, I believe you. You were just trying to feel me up weren’t you?” she gave him a sly wink as she noticed him blushing. He shook his head, and then nodded.
“No-Yes.” She smiled.
“I wouldn’t have minded.”
“But I thought…” he trailed off. She stood up, her body flush with his. He took a step back. She took a step forward.
“I might have had my heart broken, but that doesn’t mean I can’t flirt.” The last three words were spoken slowly, her fingers trailing down his chest. Patrick swallowed hard, his breath becoming shallow. She looked straight into his eyes, her hands resting on either side of his abdomen. She licked her lips, a small smile playing across them. She leaned forward. Patrick closed his eyes.
“Excuse me; I need to get past you.” Gently she pushed him back one step and moved across the room to switch off a bleeping machine. Patrick stared at where the girl had stood just a second ago. His mind reeling. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“You’re a tease.” She smiled.
“Thanks.” Truth was she’d lost her nerve, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Silence once again filled the room as they resumed their positions of a few minutes earlier. Patrick mentally kicked himself for falling for another girl to mess him around. Several minutes passed. The quiet was deafening. Alexandra spoke first.
“There isn’t a Mr Willow. There was, that’s why I moved over here. Turns out he was already married. I know how to pick them. Typical really, I bet you’ve got a girlfriend at home waiting for you.” She laughed bitterly. Patrick felt his stomach flip.
“No, I don’t. Not for a while.”
“Maybe we could go out for a drink sometime then?” she asked quietly
“I thought you didn’t want to go out with me.”
“When did I say that?”
“You… Never mind.” He returned to the desk where she sat, breathing in her scent, his mind reeling. “Can you explain this to me?” he pointed to the chart. She smiled.
“Yeah, this bit in black is his pulse, and the red bit is the blood pressure. The green is his breathing rate, and these numbers are all of his medications, how much in per hour in red and in total in black. Simple.” She turned to look at him following her explanation, and was met with his mouth on hers. For a second she stiffened, then relaxed into it, pulling him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. This was breaking every rule in the book, but to hell with the rules, they were made to be broken. It was only the alarm on the cardiac monitor that broke them apart. Alexandra pulled away and dove towards the machine.
“Dammit” she began pushing buttons. The noise ended. “Sorry.” She smiled at Patrick
“Don’t apologise. I enjoyed it.”
“So did I.”
“Can I see you again?” Alexandra nodded.
“I’m working again tomorrow night. We can arrange a date then.” Patrick nodded. “Excuse me, I need to go and get something. I’ll be right back.” She smiled as she left the room. Patrick returned to his chair and leaned back in it, staring up at the ceiling, feeling happier than he had in weeks. He sighed and closed his eyes again, reliving the kiss in his mind.
“Excuse me, Sir. Hello?” He felt someone poke his arm. He opened his eyes. Blinking he looked up at the red-head nurse, who was staring at him with concern. “Are you alright sir? You seemed to be moaning in your sleep.” Patrick was confused.
“Where’s Alexandra?” it was the red headed nurse’s turn to be confused.
“No Idea. Is she your girlfriend?
“Um, I don’t... No, she isn’t. She works here. She was in here just now.”
“I don’t think so. We don’t have anyone here called Alexandra.”
“Her name was Alexandra Willow. She was from London.”
“No we… Oh, I know who you mean. We had an English girl work here for a few months, last year. She died. Fell off the chair in here actually. It was apparently an accident, but I think she died of a broken heart. Her lover was actually married. She couldn’t deal with it. She must be haunting the room. By the way, visiting hours end in five minutes. I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes.” She left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. At the same time Pete opened his eyes.
“Patrick, you’re here.” He croaked, his throat dry from the oxygen mask “You’ll never believe the dream I had.”
“You and me both, my friend. You and me both.”