05 June 2015

Hope & Glory

Chapter Two


The brunette was a pain in his backside for sure.  He saved her arse and she barely acknowledged his good deed, not that he was expecting a medal or anything, but come on.  He could have been hit by that frickin' truck but did she seem to give a shit?  Not really.  Why it bothered him so much, he didn't know.  He should have seen the tell tale signs that she was going to faint, thankfully he had good reflexes to catch her before she did further damage and cracked her skull on the pavement.  He hoisted her in his arms and flagged a taxi. Laying her gently on the back seat and retrieving her bag from the pavement, they made their way to the hospital.  He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and texted to cancel his appointment with the suppliers.  Fuck!  It had taken him months to get an appointment with them and it was all shit, he hoped to reschedule but right this very moment he had to get this matter sorted.  He looked at the brunette sprawled in front of him.  Her brown hair was matted against her face, it was a bloody hot day.  He leaned forward and moved the hair away from her face and was struck by how angelic she looked.  He hadn't expected it.  When he'd seen her cross the road into oncoming traffic,  he was coming out of his apartment and it was like everything had gone in slow mo.  

He'd raced across the goddamn road like he was the fuckin' Flash and was hoping he'd get to her in time.  Thinking about it now, he'd watched her close her eyes and the alarm bells were going off.  What the fuck? Who wanted to end up like moosh on the road?  She did, obviously.  He looked at her, her complexion pale and noticed the dark circles smudged under her eyes.  Reminding him of when he used to sport a few of those back at school.  Something just didn't sit right.  He delved into her handbag and retrieved her phone, thankful there wasn't a pass code to access it and stowed that away for later.  

The taxi driver heralded their arrival at the hospital and he paid the fair and hoisted her in his arms once again and strode in and immediately he put her on the gurney that miraculously appeared out of no where and she was being moved from out of his sight.  The nurse was barrelling a bunch of questions his way,  most of it he shrugged. 
     "She almost got hit by a truck," he offered, "And then she collapsed right after.  I don't know her name."
     "Are you her boyfriend?" the nurse asked, as if the fact he was a man and had brought her in clarified that. 
      "Like I said, I was just there.  I have her phone, I can give her family, friends or whatever a call." 
The nurse nodded and disappeared.  He hung back for a while and then went out to make a call. 

Irish scrolled through the brunette's log to find 'Prick of a Boyfriend' all down her list.  She had a sense of humour at least.  He dialled and waited.  The phone rang and rang and he was ready to hang up when a man's voice appeared on the other end.  
    "Hope, let me tell you straight from my heart, I never wanted you to find out this way, it was never my intention... Hope, you there?" 
     "This isn't Hope," Irish said into the phone. 
     "Who is this?" Tony asked. 
     "That's none of your business... you don't get to ask the questions here.  Who is this?" Irish asked. 
     "Her boyfriend, what's happened?  Where's Hope?" 
     "She's in the hospital, she almost got hit by a lorry and then she collapsed," Irish stated.
     "Which hospital are you in? Shit. God, I've got to call work and tell them I won't be able to make it in," Tony rambled down the phone.  
     "UCL," Irish replied and the line went dead.  

Irish went to wait in doors.  He replied to emails and told his business partner he would be late in and would explain later.  Half an hour or so later,  a man rushed in and headed straight to reception. 
     "My girlfriend was brought in, her name is Hope Chambers.   Where is she?" the man gasped.  
     Irish held back, taking into account the way he dressed.  Tweed or Cord trousers in an insane maroon colour and a blazer.  His hair was cut like he studied English Literature in some badly lit library in God knew where.  Not what he was expecting at all,  it was worse.  He stood up to make his way over to Tony and then he legged it to the examination room without care or feeling.  Irish followed slowly behind.  He gave Tony credit for being fast but 'stupid', he'd have to see. 

     "Get away from me!  I don't want anything from you... don't even touch me!" she screamed and Irish rushed to where he heard her yell.  As he approached, so did the doctor and before he could ask, the doctor beat him to it. 
      "What's going on?" 

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