In Another Life

“I mean,” Amanda speaks up for the fourth time in the past twenty minutes. “I’m sure that if something had gone wrong, that we’d have known by now, right? I mean, they’d tell us, wouldn’t they?” Her voice is all tight, and strained with the worry that we’re all currently feeling.

Raina makes a squeaking noise, and then runs her hands down her face. She has what looks like orange paint dried on her knuckles with random purple splotches up her arms. Like she’d been in the middle of doing some artwork, and she’d received my call, and then she’d dropped what she was doing and she came immediately.

Like the rest of us did, I suppose. Amanda had been in class, but she’d left once she listened to my panicked voicemail. Roger and Abi, who were huddled in the corner of the waiting room with their hands clasped together, had been at home as far as I can tell. They’d been the firsts to arrive with a blonde willowy woman in tow—she’d been introduced to me as Annie MacDonald, the woman who was going to adopt Charley. Her husband, she had told me in a soft, tense whisper was out of town for work, but was willing to be on the first flight to London if things were truly dire.

Jeanette had been back there for a long time. Or, at least, it feels that way. I’d arrived at the hospital first, and I’d paced the sidewalk out front until I heard the keening wail of the ambulance coming around the corner. She had been unloaded on a stretcher, pale and sweaty and terrified. But I’d caught her hand up in my own and promised her that I wouldn’t leave until I was forcibly removed from her side.

And, to be quite honest, I didn’t. It wasn’t until the head nurse told me that I’d have to leave Jeanette’s room because I wasn’t technically family, nor was I Jeanette’s emergency contact, and the midwife wanted to perform a pelvic exam and a fluid swatch to see what exactly was going on.

That had been nearly 40 minutes ago. The rest of the group had arrived somber and tense, and after repeating my story for what seemed like the hundredth time, silence settled down upon the waiting room as we waited anxiously for any word about our friend and her baby.

Personally, I am of the same belief as Amanda. No news is good news, as far as I’m concerned. Surely if Charley were-were gone, then the nurse would tell us. Right? She’d put all of us out of our misery. So obviously both he and Jeanette are still okay.

“I can’t take much more of this,” Amanda mutters under her breath, and stands up as if to make a move towards the nurse’s station. As if Roger hadn’t already been haunting the receptionist every ten minutes like clockwork.

But as soon as she stands, the plump woman who I recognized as the head midwife, the one who shooed me from the room (Sandra was her name, I believe), rounds the corner and speaks to the young nurse sitting at the computer. They exchange a few words, and then Sandra looks at our corner of the waiting room and her gaze softens once she recognizes my form among the concerned faces.

“Jeanette is asking for Bryn,” Her eyes settle on my face, and she smiles warmly at me. “Don’t look so frightened—both Jeanette and the baby are fine.”

Everyone in the room let out a collective rush of air, and Amanda begins laughing next to me. When I turn to her, I realize that she’s crying, and those must be tears of absolute relief. It’s exactly how I’m feeling right now—how I’m sure everyone is feeling.

“Are you crying, too?” Amanda laughs, wiping at her eyes with her fingertips.

I touch my cheek lightly, and to my surprise, there are tears slipping across my skin, as well. “I don’t know why,” I say bewilderedly, using the heel of my hands to brush away the tears on my face

“Wh-what happened?” Annie speaks up, having to clear her throat as her voice becomes lodged in her throat.

Sandra makes a face, and then sighs. “Jeanette’s placenta is removing itself from her uterine walls. That, coupled with the fact that she lost her mucus plug, means that her cervix is already dilating. Her body was preparing to go into birth, because all of the labor signs were there. So as long as Jeanette takes it easy for the last six weeks of her pregnancy, there is no reason why she should not be able to carry to full term. Now,” She holds up her hand as everyone starts to speak at once. “I know you’re all anxious to see Jeanette, but she’s fragile right now and I will not have everybody bombarding her at once. So let’s be considerate, and let’s not upset her or burden her with worries. Bryn?”

I stand up and start towards the midwife, and then pause and turn back towards my friends. “My bag,” I begin, having forgotten my purse in my chair.

But Raina waves me on. “We’ll watch it. Just go—and give Jeanette our love!”

I nod and then follow Sandra around the nurses’ station and down a short hallway. She stops at an open door and then waves me in. There are several beds in the room, and I’m relieved to see Jeanette propped up in the one closest to the window. There’re only two other women in here, and one’s asleep while the other is curled into a ball with her blankets drawn about her head.

“Hey,” I say softly as I approach her corner. She stirs upon hearing my voice, and then smiles weakly up at me. “How’re you feeling?” I ask as I perch myself on the edge of her mattress by her feet.

She shrugs, and then reaches up to rub at her eyes. She has an IV stuck in the back of one hand, and the skin is already darkening with what’s sure to be a nasty bruise. “Tired, relieved, embarrassed, upset—take your pick.”

“Sandra told us Charley is going to be okay,” I say quietly. “And that there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to carry him to full-term now that they know what the problem is.”

I’m not sure why I’m whispering, or why I’m not able to raise my voice much above a very low murmur. Maybe it’s something about the hospital atmosphere. Like if I raise my voice above a certain decibel, I’ll be escorted from the premises for disturbing the other patients.

“I know,” Jeanette bites down on her lower lip, and then her entire face crumbles as she begins to cry. “Oh Bryn, I was so scared. I thought I lost him! All I could think about was not ever hearing his heartbeat again, or not feeling him flip about—I thought-I thought—”

“Oh sweetheart,” I croon and reach up to take her hand up in my own tightly. “He’s okay. None of this is your fault. He is fine, and you’re fine.”

“They’re telling me I’ll have to stay on bedrest for the last six weeks,” She carries on as if I hadn’t spoken. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve said the wrong thing, or if it’s because she wasn’t finished pouring her worries out for me. “They want me to stay here in the hospital, but I can’t afford all of this. I’m already freaking out about the bill I’m going to get for the ambulance, and then this—”

“Don’t worry about the money. Didn’t Annie say she was going to pay for anything medical related? And Roger and Abi will help you out. God Jeanette, I’ll give you the money. I’ll borrow it from Mum and Tad if I have to.”

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t,” She croaks, sniffing deeply. “Oh god, I just—I keep coming back to the fact that I almost lost him. I didn’t think I’d love him this much, Bryn. If I’m this upset now, how am I ever going to be able to give him up to Annie and Brad?”

I’m silent, because I’m not sure how to respond to her questions. I have no idea what it’s like to carry a life for nine months, to feel that strong, reassuring heartbeat beneath my own for 40 weeks… and then to give all of that up to a virtual stranger? There’s no way I’d be able to do it.

I settle instead for squeezing her fingers tightly. “They agreed to an open adoption, which means you’ll see Charley all the time.”

“But not enough,” Jeanette rasps, shaking her head. “I won’t get to spend the sleepless nights with him, or be there when he starts to talk and walk. I’ll just be in the background, watching some other couple raise my baby.”

A dozen concerns flit through my mind all at once. The first thing that pops into my head is that Sandra told me not to get Jeanette too upset or stressed out. Certainly this conversation falls into this category. What if getting her heart rate up means hurting Charley?

The second is that there’s no way Jeanette would be able to raise a baby on her own. She’s dropped out of uni, she has no job and she’s currently in the process of moving out of my flat and into Roger and Abi’s home. Charley is coming in six short weeks, and she has nothing prepared to raise a baby.

This is, of course, something we’d discussed prior to Jeanette agreeing to give Charley to Annie and Brad. She’d sworn up and down that she would be okay handing him off to them. In fact, she’d said that she’d be glad to get back to her regular life.

But, a tiny voice pipes up in the back of my brain, think of your own mum. Her emotions are all over the place. She can be dead set on something one moment, and then she’ll change her mind and go in the complete opposite direction. You experienced that yourself on the phone with her only just this afternoon.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jeanette.” I admit, plucking at the thin knit blanket that’s spread over her legs. “But I want you to know that I’ll support you—that Raina, Amanda and I will support you in whatever it is that you decide to do with Charley. If that means you bunking back in at my flat, then I’m okay with that. If it means lending you money, I’ll do that. But I think you should talk to Roger and Abi and Annie before you make any huge decisions.”

“I knew you’d say something wise and level-headed like that,” Jeanette chuckles through her tears. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you first.”

I smile crookedly at her. “Well glad to be of service. Now,” I pat her leg comfortingly. “There are loads of people out in the waiting room who are dying to see you. Who would you like to send in next?”

She shrugs, and then closes her eyes as she rests back against her mountain of pillows.

“Shall I say the nurse is giving you your pain meds, and buy you ten minutes of peace?” I ask, my lips twitching in amusement. When she nods, I break out into a full-fledged grin. “I can do that, and then I’m sending Roger and Abi in, okay?”

She nods, and I stand up and adjust my top before I take a step towards the head of the bed and then lean forward so I can bestow a soft kiss on my friend’s smooth cheek.

“Take care, love. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Anything special you want me to bring you?” When she shakes her head, I nod my own. “Okay, I’ll give you a ring before I pop around, yeah?”

With one last goodbye, I stride from the room, feeling suddenly tired and much too old for my body. Do other 23-year-olds have to go through things of this gravity, as well? Or am I just a special case?

I round the corner and I’m face to face with Roger, who is clearly anxious and tense. I have to work quickly to hide the surprise on my face at his attentiveness. “Jeanette is getting her meds right now. The nurse said to give her ten minutes, and then she wants to speak with you and Abi.”

Roger nods, looking like an immense weight has been lifted off of his chest, before he turns back to his wife. I hear snatches of something about returning home before the kids come back from school, and something about grabbing take-out for dinner.

I walk back over to my two friends, and reach for my bag. “She’s fine, just tired and confused.” When Amanda opens her mouth, I flash her a warning look and then flit my eyes over towards Annie. A look of comprehension dawns on her face. “I think the conversation with Roger might last a while, so we can wait until that’s all done with and you two can go see her, or—”

“I’m actually a bit hungry,” Amanda announces sheepishly. “I lost my head completely and left half of my stuff back in the lecture hall. My lunch was in there,” She adds on, frowning a bit to herself.

“We can go check out the hospital café if you’d like,” I cross my arms over my chest. “Or run out for something. It doesn’t matter to me; I’m rather hungry myself.”

“Let’s just pop into the café first,” Amanda begins, standing up and picking up her own bag. “I know they’re known for having rubbish food, but I’d like to stay close. I know Sally—”

“Sandra,” I correct automatically as all three of us start to troop towards the elevators. None of the adults pay us any attention.

Amanda waves her hand dismissively. “I know she said that Jeanette was going to be fine, but I’ve read enough about antenatal care and premature birth to know that relapses are common.” Upon seeing the horrified look on Raina’s face, Amanda rushes to console her. “Though it’s not likely! Jeanette is a fighter, you know, and I’m sure she’s fine. Sally—Sandra,” She hastens to correct herself. “She is a competent nurse, and this is one of the best birthing centers in London. Hey, look! A nursery,” She is prattling on and on, and in an attempt to get herself to shut up, she rushes towards the glass wall.

Raina gives me a rather incredulous look, shrugs her shoulders, and then follows her to the glass. They spend a few moments ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the newborn babies, and the NICU nurses indulge them a bit by holding up a few infants for inspection.

I myself have seen enough newborns to not be completely bowled over every time a dewy-eyed baby yawns or sneezes, and I’m sure that I’m going to get loads of it in the upcoming weeks with my new sibling. Therefore, I amuse myself by going through my bag and grabbing my mobile. I have several missed calls, and quite a few text messages. No doubt most of them are from Amanda or Raina on their way to the hospital, and I’d just missed—

“Bryn!”

A familiar voice explodes down the hallway, and I turn in time to see a group of five grown men rushing towards me. Unconsciously, I take a step backwards, as if that could make any difference, and cringe visibly, like I was waiting for them to pounce on me or something.

Much to my surprise, the man in the front of the group doesn’t do anything of the sort. He grabs me up in a tight hug, and lifts me clear off the floor before he sets me back down and then grabs me by the shoulders.

“Why are you up out of bed? What’s going on? What’s happened?”

It takes me nearly half a moment to realize that the man grabbing me is Harry. He’s dressed in khakis, a huge jumper with the hood up, and a nondescript cap along with oversized sunglasses.

“What are you doing here?” I ask in a baffled voice, blinking up at him.

The other four men close in on us, and I nearly begin to panic, but Harry pays them no mind as two break apart and head to opposite ends of the hall. One stays standing near Harry, and the other begins to pace the hallway, peering into rooms and checking locked doors.

“I came to see you. I got a phone call that you were in the hospital, and I-I left my meeting and came straight here to make sure you were okay. You nearly frightened me to death!”

His grip is tight on my shoulders, and I don’t think he even realizes that he’s still clutching onto me. My head is reeling and I’m still horrendously confused. I hadn’t called Harry—to be quite honest, I hadn’t had a spare moment with which to think about him. (Side note: does that make me a rubbish girlfriend?) So how did he end up here?

“I didn’t ring you,” I say, reaching up and grasping on to his wrists. His skin is delightfully warm beneath my palms, and I only just remember that we’re in public, so it’s not okay if I snog him. Even if I didn’t call him, I’m still delighted that he’s here. “I didn’t even—”

“That’s our fault,” Amanda speaks up quietly, looking for all the world as if she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. “You were crying, and Jeanette wanted to talk to you, and we thought that maybe something really was wrong. We just—I thought,” She amends her wording at a terrified squeak from Raina. “That if things were really, really bad, that you’d want Harry here with you. I didn’t say Bryn was in the hospital,” She looks reproachfully at Harry. “I said she was at the hospital, and that she might need you here.”

The sigh that slips out of Harry’s lips is very much audible, and he looks as though he’s aged ten years in the two minutes that he’s been here. Slowly, as if he were afraid to do so, he lets go of my shoulders, and then pushes his hood down and takes off his hat to run his hand through his hair.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” He says to me. “I was so worried—I nearly made Fried wreck because I was egging him on. Sorry about that, mate.” He speaks quietly to the man standing just a few paces away.

The man in question is a rather large intimidating figure. His head is shaved, and he has a white scar that goes through his left eyebrow and contrasts with his dark skin. His muscles seem to be bulging beneath the suit that he wears, and as he nods, I can see them ripple and it’s terrifying.

“I am just glad that Miss Matthews is well, Your Highness.” He speaks with a faint accent that I can’t quite place.

“Security?” Amanda inhales. “You brought security with you? Are we getting arrested?” Her voice is a squeak at this point, and if I weren’t so torn between confusion and elation, I’d be amused at her sudden meekness.

“No, they were with me.” Harry explains. “Fried is head of security; he’s with me nearly all of the time. The others are Jacob, Edmund and Ray. There are others on the security team, but they happened to be with me today because I was traveling.”

“You left a meeting for me?” I ask quietly, drawing Harry’s attention back down upon me.

He nods. “I thought you were ill or hurt. All I could think about was getting here to you. I-I didn’t even tell Will I was leaving. I guess I lost my head. I could have handled that better,” He admits sheepishly, an adorable rosy pink settling on his cheeks.

I reach up, forgetting for a moment where we are, and cup his face tenderly. “I’m glad you didn’t,” I whisper so softly that only he can hear me. “I’m glad you’re here.”

The smile that he bestows upon me is so warm and genuine that I can feel my stomach doing acrobatics. If we weren’t in a public place, I would love nothing more than to pull him close to me and kiss him.

As if he were reading my mind, Harry’s eyes flick towards my friends and then back at me. Without tearing his gaze away from mine, he waves Fried forward and says something about bringing the car around so we can leave.

“You don’t mind, do you?” I ask my friends, who both shake their heads hurriedly. I really just think they’re both relieved to not be in any serious trouble for having drug Harry away from his royal duties. “Okay, I’ll ring you later.”

“We’ll let Jeanette know where you’ve gone; I’m sure she won’t mind!” Amanda pipes up with an overly dramatic wink. I don’t mind until she gives me an oddly American thumbs up signal and Harry starts to chuckle next to me. I shoot her a warning look, which she waves away happily, before I turn my attention back to my prince.

Harry’s hand is warm in my own, and his other is placed securely in the small of my back as he guides me towards the elevators. Fried walks just behind us, and Edmund ahead of us is already pushing the call button for the elevator. The third bodyguard, I believe his name was Jacob, takes the stairs down to the lobby, and the fourth is nowhere to be found.

The ride down is short and painless. It’s not as if we could attack each other with two bodyguards in the elevator with us. Nevertheless, Harry keeps me entertained by pulling funny faces behind Fried’s back and then assuming an innocent air once Fried turns around.

The five of us start to make our way across the marble floor of the lobby, and Jacob goes ahead to make sure that the car is outside and waiting for us. We wait for only a moment before Fried touches his ear lightly, and then nods at Edmund who starts outside.

I trail behind Harry, still clutching on to his hand, as he leads me towards a Rolls Royce. Harry opens the door for me, and I slip in as gracefully as I can manage before he climbs in after me. Fried slides in, and then Edmund last, and I notice that Jacob and Ray are both in the front.

“Do you want to go back to mine?” Harry asks quietly, our hands still tangled together. Upon seeing the fright flare up in my eyes, he smiles. “Dad’s out, so you’ll be fine.”

I nod, my heart slowly returning back to normal. I don’t think I can handle meeting Prince Charles right this very second. I’d need more time to prepare myself—as in, possibly years to work up the nerve to be in the same room as him.

“Yeah,” I manage as calmly as I can. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.”