Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 759 by Angharad

Part 759
The minutes ticked by, each one seeming like an eternity and I sat there grinding my teeth – until I noticed, then I stopped and clenching my mobile so hard my hand hurt.

I rose from my chair and walked up and down for a few minutes. Still no news – was that good or bad? I pocketed my phone and held myself, both arms thrown across my chest, fingers gripping near my shoulder blades. I had no one to hug me, so I was hugging myself – or so I rationalised. If Tom survived, I would behave myself and try not to cause him any more grief. God, I was a liability – what a stupid bitch I am. I had everything going for me and I want to spoil it because it doesn’t fit my whimsical view of reality. My big fat arse deserved a long hard kick.

If only I could help him? But how? I had rejected the healing powers I seemed to have and told them to go away. I would try once more to use them and that would be it. Like everything else, I wanted them on my terms – seems that life isn’t like that – stupid universe.

I sat down and began to concentrate seeing Tom lying on the bed surrounded by the blue light which was permeating and infusing his heart and circulatory system, repairing damage and making him as good as new. Okay, so I’m not very good at this, am I?

I went into an almost meditative state seeing just Tom and the blue light, seeing them interacting and him recovering. Faint heart never won fair maiden, so my mother used to tell me, though what relevance it had to my current situation, wasn’t clear to me and it was a distraction from my meditation. I began a mantra to help my concentration, “I send this love to heal you, Tom.”

I don’t know how long I was sitting there doing it, but at one point I thought I heard him reply to my mantra. I opened my eyes and standing before me was a nice looking i.e. tall dark and handsome man in theatre scrubs.

“Miss Watts?”

I opened my eyes which were sticking together from tears and being shut for some time. “Um – yes?”

“Your father is…” This pause lasted for an age, one counted in geological time. “…in intensive care. He’s a tough old bird, although we thought we’d lost him at one time. However, his heart started and went into sinus rhythm well, you’d think there was nothing wrong with it –amazing. Alas, we can’t say the same for his coronary arteries which are somewhat clogged, hence his MI today.”

“MI?” I queried.

“Myocardial infarct – except, somehow his heart doesn’t seem to have been damaged by its rather long pause. Very unusual. Anyway, I think he’s going to need a triple or possibly quadruple bypass operation, as soon as he’s up to it.”

“Right. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Go and see him; he’s been asking for you ever since he came back round, although we’ve given him some sedation so he’ll be a little sleepy.”

“Thank you, Dr – um?”

“Charlie Wavell, I’m an anaesthetist.”

“Ah, crash team man?”

“One of, rather a junior one.”

“But probably the most handsome member.”

He blushed – I’d embarrassed him, I hoped he didn’t think I was chatting him up. “I have to go.” He started to withdraw.

“I’d better call my fiancé and tell him the good news.” I said pulling the mobile from my pocket. “Thanks for coming to tell me.”

He nodded and said, “You’d better make that call.” Then he was gone.

I walked towards ICU and gave my name to the nurse in charge. “To see who?”

“My father has just been admitted from coronary care, he’s just had an MI. Dr Wavell told me to come and see him.”

“Our very own Dr Kildare, see his hairy chest?”

“No, I didn’t actually, I was staring into his blue eyes – they are so bright blue, they look like two sapphires.”

“Yeah, I suppose they do now you mention it.”

“Or lapis.”

“Lapis?”

“Lapis lazuli, a semi-precious stone used for making pigments in Roman times and up to the nineteenth century – it’s a real bright blue.”

“Are you a historian or something, ‘cos your dad’s a professor, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is but we’re both biologists.”

“What boiling things in test tubes and dissecting them?”

“Ugh no, I do things like count dormice and watch to see what environmental factors affect them.”

“That sounds fun.”

“They’re nocturnal, so trying to do it in the middle of the night in a thunderstorm isn’t such fun.”

“No I suppose not, hey, did you see that film on dormice recently – it was really good, it was presented by some woman – my boyfriend was drooling all over her – all tits and talent, he said.”

“No I must have missed that one. Can I see Daddy?”

“Yeah, second cubicle along, try not to excite him will you, he’s supposed to lie quietly.”

“Yeah, I know the drill.”

I went and found him, then put a chair alongside his bed and sat holding his hand – the one which didn’t have a drip attached and set myself to concentrate on healing him. I tried to imagine the energy moving through me and via our hands into him. I was there for ages when a familiar voice said, “Trust ma luck, she gie’s me a heart attack then goes tae sleep.”

“I am not asleep, I’m trying to clear your coronary arteries,” I said back without opening my eyes.

“Oh, with yer magic light?”

“No, a pipe cleaner and some caustic soda.”

“Is it working?”

“Dunno, they wouldn’t let me inject caustic soda into your arteries.”

“Thank thae Laird fer sma’ mercies.”

“Oh well, plan B, then.”

“What’s that?”

“I get Dynorod in with one of their drain cleaning machines – that should finish things.”

“Aye, but whit are ye tryin’ tae finish?”

“That would be telling, Daddy.”

“It wid, widnae it?”

“Yep, so lie back and think of Eng…”

“No way, Scotland, if ye please?”

“Bloody foreigners.”

“I’ll hae ye ken ma ancestors were here while you Sassenachs were still on the boat frae Germany.”

“I thought the Scots came about the same time or after the Saxons? Before that its was Picts and British, or Romano-British. The Scots came over from Ireland, if you remember.”

“Cathy, I thocht ye were a biologist no a bloody anthropologist?”

“See what watching dormice can teach you?”

“I cannae see the link there, somehoo. Hoo dae dormice teach ye onything? Ye always seemed uninformed aboot onythin’ but yer bloody dormice.”

“Nah, you just didn’t know which questions to ask.”

“Aye, sae it wid seem,” he said with a chuckle