Chapter 15

Gradually, Simon became aware of his surroundings. He was in a narrow bed with crisp sheets; the ceiling was high and the walls pale green and cream. Where… oh. Hospital.

He forced his head to roll first to the left, then the right. There was a curtain between him and anything to his left, on the other side he met the eyes of his mother.

“Oh, thank God, you’re awake. I’ll go tell the nurse!” she told him, standing quickly and giving him a peck on the cheek as mothers do.

A nurse entered, pulled the curtains around him and took his pulse and temperature. She noted them on the chart that she re-hung at the bottom of his bed, all busy efficiency.

Simon asked her, “Can you tell me what’s happened?” but she only replied, “You’ll have to wait for the doctor, I’m afraid. He shouldn’t be long. Do you need anything? How’s the pain?”

“Okay, but I feel really woozy,” he told her.

“That’ll be the medication. Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.” She flashed a brief smile at him before whisking the curtains back with the ease of obvious practice, then she walked quickly back to her station at the end of the ward. Simon watched with detached enjoyment. He thought he ought to be enjoying the sight more, but couldn’t make himself care enough.

His mother came back, his father with her. Both looked relieved. 

“How are you feeling, son?” his mother asked.

“I’m fine,” he replied.

“He lied,” interjected his father, dryly. “You got us worried, son. I’m glad to see you’re awake now, though.”

“Leave him alone,” his mother chided, “he’s just woken up.”

His parents sat with him for a while. Gradually, Simon became more awake, though the pain in his leg was getting worse. He started, remembering.

“Marianne. She was there!”

Jackie leaned over to lay a hand on his. “Hush.”

“Mum, it was Marianne, and she was there, with those kids. Oh, Christ, there were a couple of kids…”

“I’m sure they’re all okay,” he heard his mother say, but he was watching her face. No, they weren’t.

“Truth, Mum.”

His father answered after a moment, his mother remaining silent.

“Marianne’s okay, she’s here in the hospital too, some burns but she’ll be fine. I’m really sorry son, but they couldn’t reach the kids. John told us about it, how you tried to get back in to them.”

“You could have got yourself killed!” his mother hissed.

“Shhh, Jackie. Simon was trying to do his job. And being a bit of a hero with it.”

But Simon’s head had fallen back onto his pillow. He closed his eyes and once more saw the flames, saw the frightened faces of those two children, kids he’d left behind.

“’m no hero,” he mumbled. “Failed. Those kids…” Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes.

This time his father reached over and grabbed his hand. He squeezed. Simon opened his eyes again and looked at his normally taciturn, gruff, father in surprise.

“Simon, according to John you got Marianne out, you helped him with another little boy and you, personally, saved the life of one little girl by shielding her with your own body, injuring yourself in the process. Then you tried to get back inside, when the building collapsed, partially on you. No shame, Simon, none. You did well and I’m – we’re – proud of you.”

- - - - - - - - - -

The next day, Simon had unexpected visitors. Tina came in to the ward, pushing Marianne in a wheelchair. Marianne’s eyes lit up when she saw him. Tina looked grateful.

Simon saw that Marianne’s left leg was in a cast, she had dressings on that arm and hand as well. Her hair was short, apparently cut in haste and she had a nasty bruise close to her temple. She looked tired, washed out, an impression made curiously worse by the hospital gown she was wearing, but she smiled anyway. They didn’t speak for a long moment, until Tina broke the ice.

“I heard you’d got hurt, Simon. Marianne and I wanted to come over and see you to say, “Hi,” and thank you.”

“Yes, and find out how you are, Simon. I hear your leg was injured, how bad is it?” asked Marianne, concern evident in her voice.

Simon couldn’t hide a grimace. “The doctor saw me yesterday afternoon. The damage to my knee is quite bad, he’s sure I’ll be able to walk again, he thinks I’ll get back up to around 85% of my knee’s capability – but I think that’ll be enough to take me out of the service. I don’t want a backroom job.”

Simon looked away. “Besides, I’m not sure I want to stay in regardless. I’ve had enough, what with those poor kids…”

He felt a soft hand laid on his for a short time, then withdrawn. He looked up and saw Marianne. 

“You and John saved my life, and that of several other kids. Don’t forget that, Simon.” She held his gaze until eventually he nodded in acceptance.

“What about you?”

“The leg’s broken and burnt a bit, it’s quite sore. These,” indicating her arm and hand, “ are pretty superficial. I think the scars on my leg are going to be pretty obvious, though,” she finished with a grimace.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry to hear that,” Simon said, his concern showing in his voice.

“Oh, I think I’d had enough of primping myself for the modelling anyhow, Simon. Chris and I are getting married soon.” Simon realised what it was that he’d noticed.

“Oh! Er – is the baby all right?”

Marianne smiled again and nodded. “Yes, it’s fine. Thanks. Also, yes, it’s Chris’s and yes, we’re happy about it. It’s coming earlier than we’d expected – sorry, bad word! – than we’d intended, but we’re both happy about it.

“But anyway, I was going to have to stop modelling for at least a while anyway, of course. In any case I think I’d had enough of the pettiness for a bit, and I don’t think I had quite the right stuff to go into the Page 3 side – besides the earache I’d get from Mum if I said I wanted to do more of that!”

“I’ve never said that!” her mother interjected, but Marianne calmly looked at her, and Tina folded. “Yes, you’re right, I had reservations about it.”

“Well, Mum, Chris says he’ll still want to take photos of me, but not for publication. Just between us. Okay?”

Tina and Marianne stayed for a while, chatting intermittently, the ladies just enjoying being in a different room, Simon enjoying their company. After about an hour they left.

- - - - - - - - - -

The day after that, Chris arrived to visit Simon.

“Hi Simon,” he said as he came up to the bed. “Marianne told me where to find you.”

“Nice of you to come, Chris,” Simon replied.

There was an awkward silence. Finally, Chris grinned wryly.

“It’s a little odd, this. I have to thank my fiancée’s ex for saving her life, while he’s still annoyed with me for stealing her.”

Simon laughed, he flat-out laughed, for the first time since the fire. “Oh, God,” he gasped, “that’s funny. Anyway, I forgave you ages back for Marianne, I think I realised that she wasn’t feeling the same way for me as I was for her. And saving her was simply part of the job.”

“I’m sure you know that it’s not as simple as that. Anyway, you saved more than just Marianne’s life.”

Simon looked away. What could he possibly say to that?

“Anyhow, “Chris continued, “I just wanted to thank you. What about your own injuries?”

“Oh, just a broken leg. It’ll heal,” Simon answered, trying to brush it all off. Chris persisted though.

“From what Marianne and Tina tell me it’s worse than that. Your knee?”

Simon just shrugged.

“I see,” Chris said. He stood to go. “If there’s anything I can do to help? Just ask, Simon.”

“Okay, Chris.”

Just as Chris was leaving, Simon said, “Thanks.” Chris looked back over his shoulder, nodded, and left.

- - - - - - - - - -

Two days later, he had another visitor to his bed from the Simmons family – this time it was Caroline.

“Hi,” she said, a little shyly, around the edge of the curtain.

“Hi,” he answered. They looked at each other for a moment. Caroline fidgeted, so Simon beckoned her to come to him. She sat on the bedside chair, as close as she could, looking down at her hands which were clasped together in her lap.

“I – ” he began, just as Caroline also began, “I – ”

She smiled, and Simon waved to her to begin.

“I just wanted to say ‘Thank you,’ for rescuing Marianne, and to see how you are,” she said.

“No thanks needed, and I’m  - well, not fine, but I’ll be okay,” he told her. “I need to start physio on this knee soon, which is going to be a pain in the arse, but Doc reckons I’ll get most of the mobility back.”

“Is that the best they can do?”

“’Fraid so. Apparently I shouldn’t have tried to walk on it and then have a wall fall on it after doing the initial damage. Who knew?”

He faked a casual grin, or tried to. Caroline evidently saw through him though, she leaned over, softly said, “I’m really sorry, Simon,” and kissed his forehead briefly, lightly.

“It’s okay, Caroline. Really. I’ll be able to walk and all that, but it seems my dreams of playing for West Ham are over,” he tried to joke.

“Not just for that, Simon. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘Oh’ indeed. I’m really sorry, Simon. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Have you thought of me?”

Simon had, but not constantly, and not really in a flattering way. “Sometimes,” he temporised. She saw the lie instantly again.

“No, you haven’t,” she told him, “but that’s okay. I just needed to tell you.”

“Sorry,” he apologised, going pink. “Er – how have you been?”

Caroline laughed, patted his hand, and said through a grin, “I’ve been okay. Well, at first when we parted, I pined a lot. In the end Mum and Mari sat me down and read me the riot act, then they fussed over me until I started eating properly again and getting on with things.”

“My turn to say ‘Sorry’, Caroline.”

“No, no. We were silly to part the way we did. I was silly and stupid to say what I did. But we were equally silly to try,” her voice caught for a moment, but she recovered, “to try for each other when you weren’t over Mari. Too soon, too fresh, and every time you looked at me you must’ve thought of her.”

“Not really, Cari. Oh, I can't deny that I did think of Marianne sometimes, but not every time!” he grinned.

She stuck out her tongue. “You!”

His face became serious. “No, you were – are I guess – amazing. I loved when I was with you. I just… I guess I just got cold feet.”

He hesitated, but before Caroline could leap into the gap he continued, staring into the space beyond the far wall, “Since then I've met another girl. She's gone back to university now, in Liverpool, and we were never meant for anything permanent, but Michelle helped me heal… in a way that I needed. My Mum & Dad, and John & Patty, they tried to make me get my head up from my arse, but it took Mi.”

Caroline said nothing, but her face fell.

“I… I guess I'll say goodbye, then, Simon,” she said, finishing in a rush. She stood up quickly and, before Simon could stop her, left.

“Wait! Caroline, please, wait.”

Simon pulled himself up in his bed and looked beyond his bed at his former girlfriend. “Caroline, will you come and see me again? I'd really like that.”

“You would?” she asked, doubtfully.

“Yes, Cari. I would, honestly.”

“Hmmm. We'll see, Mr. Cook.” But she said it with a hint of a smile instead of the determined, firm demeanour she'd shown a moment earlier.

“We'll see.”

- - - - - - - - - -

John and Patty visited, as did Phil in his capacity with the Fire Brigades Union, and his boss, Station Officer Billings.

Time in hospital meant time with little to do but think. Always introspective, Simon sat, or lay, and did just that. He thought about what he would do after getting out of hospital. He thought, and worried, and feared a little, about the rehabilitation he’d soon be undergoing. While he trusted his doctors, recognising professionalism and competence, still he worried about walking again.

He also thought about girls, of course. Well, at first, it was simply about sex, but that didn’t get him very far – privacy wasn’t that easy to come by. It wasn’t as if he could simply stroll to the bathroom! His thoughts moved on to girls, and then he found himself thinking about the girls he’d known. After a while, he found that his thoughts were mostly of one particular girl…

So there was one visitor he found himself anxiously awaiting.

- - - - - - - - - -

Time passed. His surgeon cut open his knee, checked around, and confirmed the diagnosis. He was very correct, his voice assured and somewhat condescending, but he made Simon feel that he knew what he was doing.

“It's Lateral Collateral Ligament damage, combined, as they often are in such cases I'm afraid, with damage to both Anterior and Posterior ligaments. We've patched them up, but you're in for a long, hard and, I'm very sorry, painful rehabilitation. Frankly, the damage was quite severe, and in conjunction with the other damage to your leg, well, you'll notice it no matter what we do. But I can honestly tell you that you will walk again without a stick; you'll be able to run, jump and all that. Just don't expect me to recommend booking a place in Moscow for the next Olympics.”

Simon was able to smile. “That's about what I'd expected, Doc. Without the medical terms, anyway.”

He got a Look. “Let’s see you smile once you get into the physiotherapy, young man. It’s going to hurt.”

“I know. But the reward – walking and all the rest – will make it worth it.”

Now the Doctor’s own smile had shark-like qualities. “We’ll see if you still think that when it’s happening, Mr. Cook.”

“Hello, Simon.”

Both he and the doctor were surprised by the small, feminine voice. Simon’s heart lurched when he recognised that it was Caroline, her head partly obscured by the curtain.

“Yes, well. I think we’re finished here, Mr. Cook?” the doctor said, standing to go. His demeanour softened quite a bit when he looked at Caroline. “Pleased to meet you, young lady.” Then he strode off, every step reeking of dignified arrogance.

“Wow,” Simon said.

“Is that directed at him, or at me?” teased Caroline.

“Him. But, yeah, wow!” Simon answered her, looking the young girl – no, lady – over from head to toe. Her brunette locks were a mass of tight curls close to her head, she was wearing a close-fitting denim jacket and tight – tight – jeans, finished off with a pair of white shoes. The outfit was designed to show off her curves, and did so very well indeed.

“A bit stuck up, wasn’t he?” Caroline remarked, sitting down close to Simon.

“Yeah, but a really good surgeon,” Simon replied, distractedly. “You look great, Caroline. Um, I’m really pleased to see you again.”

Caroline gave him a high-wattage smile. “You are?”

“Oh, yes. I mean it.”

“What about, wassername, from Liverpool?”

“Michelle? I told you, that was never meant for anything permanent.”

“But…”

“But nothing,” Simon interrupted. “Look, I’ve had the chance to work out what to say, and I had it scripted out – but now as soon as you walk back in to see me it flies out of the window. I messed up. I take the blame, Cari, I do.”

“So take me back.”

Simon felt his jaw drop. He was expecting to have to beg, not to be asked to do something he most earnestly wanted to do.

“See, Simon? It’s that simple. We wasted the autumn, and half the winter, but it’s easy. All we had to do was persuade ourselves. I wasn’t sure I could make myself come back here again. You obviously weren’t sure I’d say ‘yes’ when you asked – and I know you, if I hadn’t made it easy you’d have waffled around for quite a while. So, yes, take me back. Let’s see if what we felt those months ago, for that brief time, was something we can re-create. I hope we can.”

“So do I,” Simon answered through a suddenly thick, tight throat.

“Okay then. When do you get out of here?”

“Not for a few days. They want to see how I cope with a cane before letting me out solo.”

Caroline laid her hand in Simon’s palm. He squeezed gently, appreciating the gesture.

They sat and began to talk about inconsequentials, not noticing the time. When visiting hours ended and Caroline had to go, she promised to come the next day.

“After I’ve seen Marianne, of course. She needs me too.”

“I know, Cari. I know. But I’ll be counting the seconds.”

His last image of her was of the bright smile she gave him before disappearing out of sight.

- - - - - - - - - -

A few days later Simon hobbled out of the hospital doors, his father carrying a small case while his mother and Caroline fussed over him. He took it in good grace – mostly.

He put up with the fuss until both his mother and Caroline tried to help him into the taxi at once. He snarled, “I’m not an invalid you know!”

There was a moment’s silence before his father spoke into the gap, “Well, technically…” which broke the sudden atmosphere and got a wry smile on Simon’s face.

- - - - - - - - - -

A week later Caroline called Simon.

“I’m at the hospital, Marianne’s been taken in,” she told him, concern colouring her voice.

“Oh? What’s up?” he asked, worried himself.

“The baby. It looks like it’s coming early. Mum and Chris are here too. I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you in a bit. Bye!”

She was gone. Simon cursed his leg, again. He wanted to be there.

“Who it was on the phone, Simon?” his mother asked.

“Caroline,” Simon answered. “Marianne’s been taken in – the baby’s coming early. Tina, Chris and Caroline are all there- they’re obviously worried.”

“Of course!”

“Yeah. So’m I, actually. I want to be there to be with Caroline. Fuck!”

“Simon! Language!” she chided.

“Sorry.”

His mother turned him to face her. She looked into his eyes for a moment before concern replaced annoyance; finally softening into a mixture of love and… something Simon couldn’t lay his finger on.

“Go to her, Simon.”

He looked away and, throat tight with emotion, replied “I want to. I’m going to.”

“How’re you going to get there?” his mother asked, “Dad’s got the car at work.”

“I’ll call a cab,” he responded.

- - - - - - - - - -

Simon struggled out of the cab, muttering under his breath as he transferred his cane from one hand to another. He remembered his manners enough to thank the taxi driver before painfully making his way through the doors and into the reception of the old red-brick building that was the Buchanan hospital.

The reception desk was predictably busy, but Simon was directed to the Delivery Unit. In the waiting room he found Caroline, sitting next to a clearly anxious Chris. They were talking in low tones, oblivious to his arrival.

Simon sat in the miraculously empty seat next to Caroline, and said, “Hi Caroline, what’s happening? Hi, Chris.”

Caroline squealed as she realised who he was, then put her hand over her mouth in horror at the noise. She grabbed him, and they kissed for a moment across the wooden arms of their chairs before realising they were in a very public place. Chris watched distantly, but a small smile lifted his face for a moment as they disengaged from each other.

“So, like I asked, what’s happening?”

Caroline’s reply to Simon came in the form of a high-speed stream of consciousness.

“Oh, Simon, it’s good to see you! Mari’s water broke unexpectedly, she’s three weeks early, the midwife says there’s nothing to worry about, but then that’s what they always say, isn’t it? And you hear of all sorts of terrible things, you know? There was that thing in the paper the other day, about all those women who lost their babies…”

Simon knew he had to stop her; this wasn’t what Chris needed to hear – and come to that, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all, either. He quieted her the best way he knew how, with a kiss.

He pulled away, said, “Shh. It’ll be okay,” and leaned over to greet Chris properly. “Hi, Chris. Has Caroline been like this all the time?”

“Hi yourself, Simon, it’s good to see you. To be honest, I don’t know, I’ve been kinda in a funk myself.” He paused, then explained, “Mari called out to me this morning while I was fixing breakfast in bed for us both. She sounded in a bit of a panic, so I rushed upstairs only to find her sitting up, looking a bit panicked herself. She pulled herself together right in front of my eyes, told me matter-of-factly that her waters had just broken, and could I drive her to hospital please?” He looked up at the ceiling, and then back at Simon. “I was with her at first, but the staff here advised me to take a break. I told Mari I’d get a cup of coffee and let Caroline know what was going on. Tina’s with her now.”

He stood up. “Actually, I’ve finished my tea. Now that you’re here for Cari, I’ll go back in and give Tina a break.”

Simon could see that Chris was worried sick, but trying in vain not to let on.

- - - - - - - - - -

Chris and Tina alternated their times with Marianne, until Caroline asked her mother if she could visit her sister. “Of course!” Tina told her, obviously surprised that she would ask.

“Oh! It’s just that I didn’t think more than one visitor at a time was allowed, the way you and Chris have been taking turns.”

“Oh, no, that’s just me letting him have private time with Marianne. You can go in now, if you’d like.”

Caroline wanted to rush in right then, but instead she dutifully waited another ten minutes before standing, pulling Simon with her. “Come on, Simon. Let’s go see how my sister’s bearing up.” Simon didn’t have time to object, he found himself being led in to see Marianne.

On seeing her sister, Caroline let go of Simon’s hand and rushed forward. Simon was still rubbing the circulation back into his crushed appendage.

Marianne looked tired but very happy, he decided. She was obviously delighted to see her sister, who sat close and began talking animatedly. Simon hung back, staying just beyond the head of the bed, unsure of what to do next.

“Simon? Can’t you even say ‘hello’?”

He played the voice back in his head before actually parsing the meaning. He looked down at the bed, to see two identical pairs of eyes watching him. “Hello?”

“Earth to Simon. Come in, Simon!” Marianne teased. It was her who had spoken, he understood.

He smiled, said, “Hello, Marianne,” and walked to the bedside next to Caroline. Stooping, he placed a soft kiss on the crown of his girlfriend’s head, then put a light, chaste pair of lips on Marianne’s forehead. “Good to see you, Marianne. How’s it going?”

Marianne grabbed her sister with one hand and reached across herself with the other to take Simon’s. She smiled, in that tired way people do when they’re reaching the end of their rope but unwilling to admit it. 

“I’m okay. The little devil doesn’t want to come out and play, it seems. The doctor came, checked around and told me that things were ‘normal’. Normal, hell!” She glanced at her sister. “Cari? Next time he wants to stick that thing in you, cut it off.”

Simon shuddered, theatrically, but Caroline frowned. “We haven’t actually got back to that, yet, Mari.”

“Oh.”

The silence drew out, and Simon decided to fill it.

“It’s my fault, though I don’t think it’s a fault, really. Last time it all happened so very fast, after… well. After you. I wanted to slow things down.”

Both women now looked embarrassed. Simon began to go pink, as well.

Marianne frowned and asked, “So, what then? You’re playing by some set of rules? No kissing on the first date, no touching of naughty bits until after the third, definitely no sex until – until when? You’re married?”

Caroline laughed. “Tell him, not me. He’s got a willing…”

“Beautiful,” Simon blurted.

Caroline dimpled but went on, “…willing woman but he’s holding back. I wish you weren’t so noble sometimes, Simon!” she teased. But there was an edge beneath the teasing.

Marianne squeezed Simon’s hand, saying, “Take care of your woman, Simon. It sounds like you’re not satisfying her needs!” Then, she squeezed his hand again, but this time, with a grimace.

“Contraction?” her sister asked, and Marianne nodded.

“Should I get someone?” asked Simon, beginning to panic at the thought of childbirth.

“Not yet, sweety,” Caroline told him. “How far apart?” she asked Marianne, who grunted, “Still ten minutes. There’s time yet. Oh!”

Once it was over, Marianne looked at her sister. “Don’t get pregnant.”

“No! But I do like to practice…”

Simon threw his eyes heavenward. “Okay, already! I understand, I’m taking things too slow. You want me to throw you down on the bed now?”

“Ooh, yes. Then I can watch!” squealed Marianne, causing Caroline to crack up with her. Simon followed the pair of them into laughter, and with the ice broken the trio enjoyed some time together. Chris joined them by the bedside after a while, before Simon checked the time and reminded Caroline that her mother would want to see her daughter some more, and he had to go to physiotherapy soon.

- - - - - - - - - -
Simon’s physiotherapy was at a different hospital in the town, The Victoria. As Simon limped away from his appointment he reflected that, if being a sadist wasn’t actually a requirement for becoming a physiotherapist, it must be a distinct advantage. His doctor had been right, it hurt. He just hoped it was doing him good in the longer run.

First he had to check on Marianne. So he made his painful way out of reception to the nearby bus stop, wishing he had a way to check now. Luckily he was able to find a seat near the front on the bus, though getting up into the vehicle was a struggle. “Good job I’m not trying to get into the cab of the appliance,” he mused to himself as he watched the town go by through the window.

Luckily he didn’t have to change buses, the number 433 took him right to the door of the Buchanan. He asked at the desk if Marianne had had her baby, and was told she had. It wasn’t a long walk, just a few dozen yards through the old building’s corridors, but even so he was struggling by the time he reached the ward where he found Caroline sitting with Marianne, who was sleeping. She looked up and smiled, Simon acknowledging with a lift of his head and a grin.

“How is she?” he asked as soon as he got close enough to talk softly.

“She’s fine, and her gorgeous baby girl is too!” she answered, her smile now at full power. “Chris is doing the ‘new dad’ thing, so if you see him he’ll probably buy you a drink and give you a cigar.” She ended with a wink and a flip of the head vaguely in the direction of the other end of the ward.

“At the pub? Which one?” Simon asked, making out he was interested in leaving. He wasn’t, not in the least, not right now. So he sat next to Caroline instead.

Caroline. His girlfriend. Again.

“How did the physio go?” she asked him, and he grimaced.

“Hurts. A lot. They have to extend the joint, stretch everything out, to make sure I don’t lose too much mobility. It feels like they’re simply out to cause as much pain as they can.”

“Of course that’s not really true,” Caroline offered.

“No, it’s not. But it sure feels that way!” Simon responded with more heat than he intended.

“Ssshh!”

Simon apologised with a whispered “Sorry!” and they sat together for a couple of minutes, quietly. Simon was unsure what to say next. Visiting ex-girlfriends in hospital with their twin sister, who was an ex-but-now-current girlfriend, hadn’t been on any of the courses he’d attended. Caroline seemed content to sit silent vigil as well. Then Simon noticed that they had, quite unconsciously, been holding hands. As he sat there he came to the conclusion that there was a sense of rightness about that.

- - - - - - - - - -
Tina came back to sit with her daughter for a while. She told Caroline and Simon to go and see Chris, who was still watching his baby girl.

“I have to admit to being envious of my daughter, with a nice short labour, no real complications and a gorgeous little girl at the end of it.” Tina sighed.  “She’s got a touch of infant jaundice, so they’ve got those special lamps on her for now. She’ll be fine, but we need to get some food into Chris before he faints away. Go on, go, and take him with you. I’ll watch Marianne.”

Caroline stood, still holding Simon’s hand. She gave her mother a peck on the cheek, softly told the exhausted, sleeping Marianne, “See you later, sis,” and left, towing him along with her.

They found Chris outside the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, just staring at his tiny daughter. With a hat that shaded her eyes from the lights the little mite was asleep like her mother, but Simon could see her miniature hands clench then unfurl.

“She looks adorable, Chris,” Caroline told the new father.

“Isn’t she?” Chris replied. He sounded awestruck.

They stood together for a moment. Simon thought that it must be a ‘father’ thing, this fascination, or perhaps that not being fascinated was a bachelor thing. Caroline was avidly drinking in the sight as well, after all.

Simon coughed gently. Caroline looked, and he nodded towards the exit, hand gently rubbing his stomach. She laughed, drawing Chris’ attention.

“Let’s go get something to eat, Chris, you must be starving,” she told the photographer. He looked startled, as if suddenly realising he had a body attached.

“Yeah, I could eat something,” he said, slowly. So the three of them left the hospital.

“Tell you what. I fancy fish ‘n chips, we can eat them out of the paper in the park before we go for a drink to celebrate,” Simon offered.

“Okay,” Chris agreed, and Caroline nodded, so they did just that.

- - - - - - - - - -