You had me loving you
from day one
I had you
loving me when it begun
But
somewhere along the way
Your
cheating heart decided to stray
You had me loving you
totally
And I
thought I had you loving me
But now
your heart resides elsewhere
And you
have left me in utter despair
You are still the one
that I adore
But you
don’t love me anymore
You still
have me loving you totally
But I no
longer have you loving me
If I could make
The
perfect wife
To
keep with me
All
of my life
If
I was able to
Build
the perfect one
I
would choose Charlie’s legs
And
Brenda’s bum
Laura’s
breasts
And
Eliza’s back
Annie’s
arms
And
Connie’s neck
Jenny’s
hands
And
Sarah’s toes
Cassie’s
ears
And
Karen’s nose
Maureen’s
mouth
And
Stephanie’s grin
Doreen’s
hair
And
Patricia’s skin
Charlotte’s
voice
And
Debbie’s eyes
Joanne’s
teeth
And
Susan’s thighs
Emma’s
grace
And
Christine’s hips
Diane’s
heart
And
Penny’s lips
If
this was something
That
I could do
She
would still not
Be
as good as you
It was to a very successful
organization that palliative care Nurse Patricia Clerembeax joined on a bitter
cold January morning along with another new nurse named Dani Carew.
It was four years to the day
after Dr Claire Lutchford nee Andrews, took over the Shallowfield Surgery and
in that short time she and her business partner Olivia Shenton had transformed
it into the Dancingdean Heath Centre, which had continued to grow in stature
which necessitated the expansion of staff numbers.
Equally while things had been going well for Claire and Olivia in the four
years they had been running the Dancingdean Heath Center in Shallowfield it had
been a very similar story for most of those four years for Patricia, but the
last six months had taken a turn for the worst because her fiancé of five years
dumped her and went off with a man, and she had had to deal with the fallout.
His parents blamed her and she was left feeling that she had actually
turned him gay.
So she decided on pastures new, she had also thought about a change of
direction professionally, but she liked palliative care, and furthermore she
was good at it, however she needed to grow so she decided on Shallowfield
because she would still have opportunities to do what she was really good at as
well as fulfilling numerous other rolls.
It was hard leaving the Hedgerley
Court Hospice and her cottage in Applesford but she knew it was the right thing
to do.
It was just before Christmas when Patricia moved into Flat 2, of East Cliff Lodge, overlooking the
picturesque Teardrop Lake.
The view of the water from their flats was spectacular with its
distinctive teardrop shape, which gave the lake its name, surrounded by the
ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forest.
It was a modest body of water as lakes
go, just over two miles long and almost a mile at its widest point, it really
was a thing of beauty and was both idyllic and peaceful.
There was little or no noise pollution and although the lake was used
there were no speed boats or jet skis, only rowing boats, canoes, dinghies and
skiffs.
Fortunately Patricia was not
the only new starter at the health centre or the only newbie to the area.
Dani Carew, who was the new
practice nurse, moved into flat number 4, of the same building, a couple of
days after her.
Both Patricia’s and Dani’s
moves had been purely out of choice because they were looking for a change and
not like many in their profession had moves forced upon them due to cost
cutting measures.
As they both moved in before
Christmas and weren’t due to start work until the New Year and as they were
neighbours the two new girls gravitated towards each other and became firm
friends.
Chantelle Grimwood, who lived in
number 1, also worked at the health centre, as a Doctor and she and her husband
Richard volunteered to show the new girls around and help them get their
bearings and settle in.
They were both dreading that
first Christmas in a new place without anyone to cuddle up to, and they thought
that all that time on their own would drive them crazy.
But they needn’t have worried
for a second as Chantelle soon introduced them around to all the mad people
they would be working with and they had so many invitations throughout December
that they didn’t have a minute to think about being lonely, even in the quieter
moments because they were too exhausted.
After a very enjoyable first
Christmas in her new home Patricia was really pleased that she wasn’t
starting the new job on her own and she knew Dani felt the same way.
They both slotted right in at the Heath Centre and they soon found that
the rest of the staff were just as friendly as the ones they had already met
were.
Patricia loved
her job from the first moment she walked through the doors and she loved living
on the Lake even more.
In the last six months of
living in Applesford she had taken to riding a bike again, as she found it helped
burn off the anger she felt towards her ex fiancé and his family.
When she moved to Teardrop Lake
she rode every day around the idyllic lake but no longer felt any anger.
On the weekends she would do
the house work on Saturdays and on Sundays she would ride off farther afield
and explore the Finchbottom Vale or any one of a number of places of interest around the lake, two Folly’s, a
Watch tower, Olwen’s Chapel, a waterfall, brooks, streams, a 16th
Century Bridge and lovers leap.
Patricia Clerembeax was a
pretty woman, with quite elfin features, and short brunette hair, and a wiry
muscular physique, but she managed to look feminine, she was not however a
girly girl and had always tended to be a tomboy.
She stood five foot eight
inches tall, and was slender and lean and she was originally a townie girl from
Abbottsford, and Pat was twenty nine years old but looked much younger.
She had resigned herself to
the fact that she was going to end her days as a singleton after the
humiliation of discovering that her pig of an ex-fiancé was gay after he left
her for the best man.
Apart from needing to be shown the inner workings of the practice, the
processes and procedures, Patricia really needed a guided tour of the area.
District nursing being part of her remit after all, so she needed to
familiarise herself with the district.
First of all she bought herself an ordinance survey map of the
Finchbottom Vale, between the Dancingdean
Forest and the Pepperstock Hills, which encompassed her territory.
The problem was that maps weren’t really Patricia’s forte.
She did have a satnav in the car which would get her from A to B but
that wouldn’t help her map out the district in her head.
So she asked the other newbie Dani Carew to help, she was the obvious
choice to her mind as she was also clueless about the area so between them they
could get their baring’s enough to avoid any major faux pas.
They were both based at the Health Centre for the first two months and it
took that long driving around in their spare time to crack it enough for them
to be let loose on an unsuspecting Finchbottom Vale.
The district nursing team had
a number of regular home visit, terminally ill or housebound patients or those
recuperating after surgery and they soon built up a good rapport with them.
As Patricia’s background was
in palliative care she had the lion’s share of terminally ill patients on her
list, but she didn’t mind as she found helping a person to end their time in a
dignified manner was very rewarding and in her first six months at the
Dancingdean Health Centre she became a valuable member on the team.
When she was first put on the
visitors list, one of Patricia’s first patients was 75 year old Andrew Bates
who had stage 4 liver cancer as well as numerous secondary’s.
Andrew lived alone in the
small country village of
Mornington-By-Mere which lay in the Finchbottom Vale that nestled
between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It was one of Patricia’s favourite destinations when she was out
exploring on her bike on the weekends which always ended with a drink at the
Old Mill Inn.
Mornington is a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box
picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a
Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
By the time the summer had
arrived Andrew had deteriorated so his youngest son David moved in to look
after him.
David and his father lived in the part of the village known as Manorside
where there were a number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere road
and Dulcets Lane and they lived at number 3, Brewery Cottages on the former.
Driving to Mornington to see
Andrew was one of her favourite visits.
David was roughly the same
age as Patricia and they got on really well and whenever she was there the two
of them flirted outrageously but she never intended it to be anything other
than flirting, but she always looked forward to seeing him.
“See you tomorrow sexy” she
said as she left the house.
The following day Patricia
was with Andrew longer than usual as he had had a very uncomfortable night,
David was just leaving the lounge as she was coming down the stairs and he
offered her a coffee, as he always did, and to his delight and surprise she
accepted.
It was unusual for her to say
yes as she always tried to avoid too many drinks during the day as by her own
admission she had a bladder the size of a pea.
But she wasn’t her normal
sparky self and David wrongly assumed it was the state of his father’s health
that had brought her down.
Whereas the real reason she
was low was that her pig of an Ex Fiancé, who had dumped her and ran off with
the best man, married him at the weekend.
Despite her low mood Patricia
did however enjoy her coffee with him and he had raised her spirits
sufficiently to produce a prolonged exchange of significant flirting between
them before she had to say goodbye.
The next morning when Patricia
reported for work at the Health Centre there was a message for her to say that
Andrew Bates had had another bad night so she turned on her heels and got back in
her car.
David Bates was 32 years old
and was the youngest of 4 boys but he was the only one who was upset about his father’s
illness and the only one who bothered to go and see him.
He was always a difficult man
to love, he was always pushing and cajoling the boys to work harder, to make
the most of themselves and to better themselves, so that they could have a
better life than he had.
But he came across as cold
and uncaring to his sons, but nonetheless his strategy worked as all four of
his sons had bettered themselves, three of them to such an extent that they
wouldn’t even lower themselves to be seen in the house they were raised in.
David himself was a graphic
novelist and a very successful one.
He was the only one of the
boys who didn’t take after his father in either appearance or temperament he
was blessed that he took all his traits from his mother.
His father and his brothers
were all over six feet tall, unyielding and uncompromising whereas he was six
inches shorter and had the soul of a mediator.
The only thing he inherited
from his father was jet black hair and steel blue eyes.
When she arrived at the house
David was scrubbing at a saucepan in the kitchen sink and he stopped when she knocked
at the front door.
He let go of the saucepan and
dried his hands and when he opened it the slender lean figure of Patricia Clerembeax
was standing on the step in the cool morning air in her polyester uniform.
“Come in” he urged her “you
don’t have to knock”
“I don’t like to enter
uninvited” she said
“You are always welcome and
have an open invitation” he said and smiled
“You look tired” she said
“Yes, he had a bad night
again” David said
“I’ll just go and check on
him” she said and put her hand on his and squeezed it
As she climbed the stairs Patricia
knew Andrew was deteriorating fast and that each visit had the potential to be
her last and she was even sadder about that than usual.
While Patricia was upstairs checking
on Andrew, David returned to the kitchen and resumed his washing up.
It didn’t take long as he
only had the saucepan to finish and when that was done he put the kettle on,
sat down at the kitchen table and picked up his sketch pad.
He always kept it close at
hand, and in the quiet moments he would work on an idea.
But over the weeks he had
been staying with his dad all his sketches were of Patricia.
He didn’t hear her come
downstairs, nor did he hear her walk into the kitchen and sidle up behind him.
In fact the first time he
knew she was standing behind him was when she put her hand on his shoulder.
“Is that me?” she asked
looking over his shoulder
David jumped and quickly closed
the pad.
“It’s just an idea I’m
working on for the next chapter” he said quickly
“Let me see then”
“No it’s a… work in progress”
he said hurriedly and slipped the pad into a draw and changed the subject.
“Would you like a cup of
coffee?”
Patricia was very curious to see
the contents of the pad but she had a more pressing matter regarding his
father.
“I’ve phoned Dr Lutchford,
because his breathing is laboured and I think the end is close”
The Doctor arrived about half
an hour later and Patricia showed her upstairs.
Fifteen minutes later they
returned and Claire Lutchford said
“He has a chest infection and
he should be in hospital”
“But he was adamant he wanted
to die in his own bed” David said
With both parties
diametrically opposed Patricia said
“I can stay on till the end”
It was after all what she was
well practiced in.
“Well I’m happy with that if
you both are” Claire said
“I am” David said
“Ok that’s settled then”
Claire announced
For the rest of the day
Patricia split her time between attending to Andrew and keeping David Company
and every time she went upstairs he would retrieve his sketch pad.
Andrew ordered an Indian
takeaway from the Bengal in Shallowfield and they ate together in the kitchen which
set them up for the long weary night ahead.
Andrew Bates died just after
seven o’clock on Saturday Morning with the summer sun invading the room and
bathing his deathbed in sunlight.
Patricia was patient and
considerate and waited with David, who was quiet and showed no emotion as they finally
left the room
David spent the morning in
his room while Patricia made all the necessary phone calls.
Sgt Jones, the village
policeman paid a visit to rule out foul play and stayed until Dr Lutchford
arrived to sign the death certificate.
And an hour later William Hemmings and Sons arrived to collect the
deceased, although it was Melanie Hemmings who offered the condolences.
David was looking out the kitchen window as the Hemmings vehicle drove
away and Patricia walked up behind her and lightly stroked the back of his arm.
“Are you ok honey?” she asked
“No not really” he replied and the tears he had been holding back
immediately welled up in his eyes as he turned towards her, so she took him in
her arms and he dissolved completely into tears.
“Its ok honey” she whispered, “let it all go”
And as he sobbed uncontrollably onto her shoulder, Patricia kissed his
cheek.
She held him close and stroked his back as he sobbed until he lifted his
head and said
“I’m getting you uniform wet”
“I don’t care” she replied and he broke down again.
At number 3 Brewery cottages in the Manorside part of Mornington,
Patricia Clerembeax and David Bates stood in each other’s arms while he cried
on her shoulder.
It dawned on her at that moment as he sobbed his heart out that now
Andrew was gone she would have no reason to go to Brewery Cottages and she
wouldn’t see him again, and that was what she was thinking as she consoled him
with her empty words.
Shameful selfish thoughts of her never seeing him again as she held him
in her arms instead of thinking of him and his loss.
It was a glorious sunny day in Mornington, though the reason she was
there was a gloomy one, she and David were sat together on the patio, which was
bathed in the afternoon sun and were both silently staring down the garden
after the death of his father.
They were both excruciatingly tired because it had been a very long
night sitting up with Andrew, however she had had a lot of time to think as
Andrews life ebbed away.
And almost all of those thoughts had been about David and the reason that
driving to Mornington to see Andrew was one
of her favourite visits.
It certainly wasn’t to see Andrew,
he was a curmudgeonly old cuss, no, it was to see David.
They got on really well and
whenever she was there the two of them flirted outrageously but she never thought
it was anything other than flirting, but she would have to confess that she
always looked forward to seeing him and hoped that it might be.
But everything came into
sharp focus now that she was faced with the prospect of never seeing him again.
When David broke down in
tears in Patricia’s arms not all his tears were for his dad, although he felt
great sadness at his passing, most of his tears and the desperate heartache was
for the loss yet to come when the lovely district nurse would cease to visit
him and brighten his lonely days.
But he was powerless to
change the inevitable.
They sat in his garden for
more than an hour in silence neither of them knowing what to say.
Desperate to ask the question
but unable to summon the words in which to frame it.
Finally in desperation
Patricia broke the silence
“Why won’t you let me see your sketches?” she asked
“As I said they are just a work in progress” he replied
“I could still look at them” she suggested
“Definitely not” he said curtly
“Oh why?”
“Because it’s an “artist” thing” he said unconvincingly
There was a moment of silence and then she took a deep breath and asked
“Am I the work in progress?”
David gasped at the question and paused before replying, he didn’t know
if he should bluff it out or come clean because he couldn’t detect in her
question what her disposition was.
Patricia thought she had made a terrible mistake and thought she should
beat a hasty retreat to preserve her dignity but just as she was about to move
he said
“Yes”
“I thought so” she replied calmly although inside she was doing
somersaults
“I’m sorry” he said “I know it’s inappropriate”
“Don’t be sorry” Patricia said and took hold of his hand “I’m glad”
Sibilant
whisperings
Greeted me
For it was I
Who stole their glee
The
gathering
Looked upon me
As the architect
Of their misery
They
could barely
Keep their hate inside
At this wedding
Without a bride
It
was all my doing
With my petty jealousy
And with it in me
I had made her flee
Beneath the moonlit sky
I looked at a star and wished
Then later that moonlit night
Beneath the moon we kissed
