2:10am (Part One)

The lights were flickering. She couldn't get the idea out of her head; she was sure. Someone would have replaced the bulb by now, though. Hospitals can't have flickering lights. Hospitals are reliable, things are constant. She readjusted herself in the wheelchair, gently rubbing at her aching abdomen. For once, she was important and relevant and it was for all the wrong reasons. The magazines around her were proving useless. Her thoughts kept coming back to the present. But acknowledge what was happening meant having to think about what would happen next. Granted, she could be wrong about what was going on. But still. She might not be. 

Ten past two in the morning. She was sure that it hadn't been that late when they were in the car. Her eyelids were growing heavy and despite the panic it was becoming harder to keep things in focus. Tired seemed to be a permanent state. She didn't want her suspicions confirmed; if she was drifting then maybe all of this would go away.

The first sign of blood had convinced her. She had almost flushed, but the red caught her eye. She had called James through, vaguely murmuring about the hospital and pointing at the toilet. She was so sure it was a miscarriage. A tiny part of her hoped it was: she wasn't sure she could handle anything worse, whatever that might be. 

The people moving around her were a blur. Although James had not left her side, he hadn't spoken to her since he had started the car. Once they had got there, he had done all the talking. His voice was shaky, but it was there. Hers had curled up in the back of her throat. She couldn't stand the thought that something had died inside her.

There was now only one doctor with them. She looked up near him, avoiding his eyes. He was ready to tell them what was going on. She rubbed her palms on the chair, trying to get rid of the sweat.

"It's a miscarriage, isn't it?" Her voice trembled along with the rest of her body.

"No."