melody_complex-relationships-4

COMPLEX RELATIONSHIPS by Melody <<< part 3

PART 4

James, Nicky and Martin emptied the van of the second load, putting it roughly where it needed to go. Mean while Denise sat on the toilet with the water running into the sin and also into the bath, in an attempt to make her pee. Twenty minutes later Nicky and Martin left to get some more stuff leaving James to attempt to
clear the clutter.

“Hey babe, I need your help with some of this stuff,” called James.
Shuffling nervously toward him, Denise brandished the short white stick. “Here, look.”
He took hold of the digital pregnancy stick, Not pregnant it stated.
“It must have been nerves that made me late,” offered Denise in explanation.
“I guess so.”
“That all you can say?”
“I'm not going to argue with you, nothing has changed.”
In silence they continued to put Nicky's things away.

Excitedly Nicky jumped out of the van and ran to Denise. “Well?”
“Come in,” she said, she then took him to the bathroom and showed him the result. “I'm sorry Nicky, I'm obviously not pregnant. It was probably stress that made me late.”
“Oh it's ok!” Nicky wrapped his arms around her. “There's plenty of time for us to have a family, don't worry.” He embraced her tightly, Denise flinching under his touch.

“We've been in this house six weeks and you hardly touch me! When was the last time we had proper sex?” blared Nicky in fury. “Oh sure you've given me blow jobs or hand jobs when pushed, but this isn't right.”
Huffing with anger, Denise threw her bath towel on the floor. “You think I can forget the arguments that we had and keep having? You continue to put your parents first!”
“Didn't you listen to your voice mails that night?”
She rubbed her fingers roughly through her hair, tugging roughly on it. “I deleted them without listening.”
“If you had, you'd know that I was willing to go against mum and dad's wishes. I married Rachel because it was what they wanted me to do. I want to be with you, married or not. I chose you.”
“Perhaps it's too little too late,” she countered. “Your protestations mean nothing, not when you keep nagging about making your parents happy. Plus there's hardly been any romance with us Nick. You keep going on about a baby will bring your parents round, well that's the wrong reason for a family.”
“What's wrong with wanting a family?”
“Nothing, it's your reasons for wanting one that's wrong and the arguing is taking this relationship over. Go to another room, if you don't, I will. I can't sleep with you.”
Nick refused to move.

“Yo, what?”
Denise knew that she couldn't be identified. Her scarf was up against her mouth, a close fitting hat hid her hair. Clear spectacles and stupid earmuffs completed her disguise. No one would guess it was her. “James it's me.”
“Get in,” impatiently James ushered her in.

After undoing her coat, Denise removed her hat and scarf, draping them over the radiators to dry. “It isn't
working James, I don't love him.”
“Because you're not having his baby?”
“No! Why are you being so hateful?”
“I need to be sure. No, scrap that, the whole band need you to be fucking sure,” said James waving for her to sit down. “Rachel hates you and Nick. Rhian hates you and tolerates Nicky; Martin and Terri are going through the mill, and Nicky detests me! Sean won't say anything but grimaces when your name is mentioned.”

“So fucking much for what you said!” She started crying and turned her back to James. “Fuck off, I'll be fine alone.”
“I know,” James said softly. His strong arms held her against his body. “But I would much rather that you be my partner and let me help you.”
Denise spluttered, leaning her head against James'. “Say it again.”
“I love you,” he drawled deliberately. “Move in with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. For the first time in my life I'm ready for this, ready for the whole commitment and family thing.”

“Be honest, do you have space in your life for me and my career James?”
“More than enough,” James kissed her forehead. “You can have your own office area and whatever else you need.”
“No other woman in your life?”
“Nope.”
“Any woman that may be under the impression that she has a part in your life?” she sniggered.
“I haven't slept with anyone since I slept with you.”
“Oh.”

James grinned. “I love you so much Den, I would rather go without anyone than go without you.”
“But you said...”
“Shush, I know,” he whispered, caressing her arse. “Making love with you gave me more that I have ever had. You know why? It's because I love you, I AM in love with you.”
“Can you cope with all the shit that's going to be thrown up?”
“I can deal with what may be the end of the band, that is what you mean?”
“Yes,” Den replied nervously. “And lots more besides. Remember that I broke Nicky's marriage. Those that hate me have more ammunition now. You'll be warned to stay away.”
“Hey,” James butted in, “this is my choice and I love you. I know that things will be hard, especially with Nick, but I love you ok?”

James and Denise went to see the following day, explaining to him that they were a couple. Denise then packed some more of her things and then left with James, leaving Nicky sobbing on the stairs.

Nicky did a lot of thinking after he had spoken with his parents. They wanted him to go back to Rachel and beg for forgiveness. They berated him, telling him in no uncertain terms that he was stupid to have been tempted away from Rachel in the first place. He was weak, he had succumbed to the charms of another woman and where had that got him? Although he was no longer with Denise, he couldn't make them understand that he still loved her, loved her more than he ever had Rachel. In the end he knew that he would be going back to Rachel to please his parents, not because it was the right thing for him to do.

The Manics commenced work on a new album, to say it was fraught was an understatement. James received lyrics from Nick along with suggestions for the music via courier, no face to face contact. Nicky also shut himself off from Sean in case Sean would mention something about Denise, or, worse still, Denise and James. Nicky's angst showed in his lyrics, he was writing his very own 'The Holy Bible'.

“James! James!” screeched Denise. “Up here honey.”
James yawned, locked the door and made his way toward the voice. Denise was sprawled on the bed in her pyjamas.
“Hey beautiful,” James sighed with a smile, watching her from the doorway. “Sorry I'm so late. What have you got for me?”
She beckoned him forward with her fingers . “Come here gorgeous.”
When James was nearly upon her, she brandished a digital pregnancy stick.
“I've done four tests James,” she grinned, “all of them the same!”
He took the stick, all the while beaming brightly. The word Pregnant was crystal clear. He picked her up, spun her around whilst kissing her lips. Eventually he allowed her feet to touch the floor and whispered, “I love you. Thank you for this.”
“Thank you,” she purred. “I can't wait for us to have a family.”
“Me neither honey!” he took her in his arms, placed her carefully on the bed and made love to her.

“Nick, Nicky I need to talk with you.”
“Fuck off! You have my woman isn't that enough?”
“Please Nick, let me in. I know that you hate me but please, it's better that I tell you this.”
“Tell me and fuck off!” Nicky yelled over the intercom. He then buzzed James in.

“Holy fuck Nick!”

James was gob smacked by the sight that greeted him. In the months since James had last seen him, Nicky had become a shambling mess of a man. His once luxuriant hazel hair was not a dull, long straggly unkempt grey mess. James was too stunned for words, he couldn't get to grips with the sight in front of him, he
wanted to cry. The only thing that stopped him was...actually, he didn't know. Something inside him made him keep his tears inside.

By the state of his long grey beard Nicky hadn't put a shaver to his face since Den had left him. The frizzy bushy monstrosity was groomed, into three points and not only did it look silly, it was also dirty. Nicky's clothes were grimy, smelly and threadbare, the house had rubbish piled all over. James was devastated, he was responsible for this. This was what he had reduced his friend to this.

Nicky's once vibrant azure blue eyes glared icily at James, letting him know , in no uncertain terms, that he was fast losing his patience. “Say what you need to and fuck off.”
James stared at the forlorn figure before him. “Tour?”
“I'll do my bit, no more. Now go.”
“That wasn't why I came here,” he answered hesitantly. He knew he would be inflicting yet more pain on Nicky with what he had to say, but Nicky deserved honesty. The quivering wreck that Nicky had become was having a profound affect on James. Finding the right words was growing increasingly difficult. “We
are having a baby Nick. Denise is four months pregnant.”

“Four months?”
James nodded, afraid of speaking.
“Why the fuck have you left it this long to tell me? Too ashamed James?”
“Not ashamed, no. We had no idea she was pregnant, she's been bleeding as normal. We put her sickness down to her IBS and inflamed oesophagus. It was Rachel, Richey's sister, that suggested that Den take a test, otherwise we still wouldn't know. She's still having periods and isn't showing Nicky, I'm so fucking
scared. I mean it isn't right is it?”

For a plethora of reasons Nicky's breath was taken away.

Uncomfortable with his former close friend, James shuffled in the hallway, wondering how he would react and respond if the boot were on the other foot. From the hatred coming from Nicky, James was expecting to feel the force of his fist any second now.
After what seemed like an eternity, Nicky broke the silence: “Come on through.”

Nicky poured them both large neat whiskys. “Pregnant huh?”
“Hmm. She's got a scan in a few days. Her doctor has estimated her pregnancy time by doing an eternal and listening to her abdomen and what ever else it is that they do.”
“Aside from analysing hormones I have no idea. The scan will give you a better idea of how many weeks she is.”
“Why is she still bleeding Nick?”
Taking a deep breath, Nicky answered: “ I don't know much about a woman's biology but I do know that some women continue to bleed. We've all heard of women that had no idea they are pregnant until they gave birth. Try not to take it as a bad thing James.” Spontaneously, he hugged his friend.
“Thanks,” James sobbed. The kindness of his friend had taken him by surprise.

“Hey, it's ok. I've got over us now.” The 'us' was he and Denise, but he hadn't got over it at all, he needed to placate James. “At the end of the day I didn't love Rachel enough and that's all there is to it. What Den and I had...well, lets not go there.”
“I'm so fucking sorry that we hurt you.”
“My one consolation is that neither of you meant to do that. All I know is that we are all attempting to get on with our lives. That has to be a good thing.”

James' breath was taken away. With Nick being as he was, how could he say that he was getting on with his life? All of his enthusiasm, life, energy, interest and vivacity had disintegrated. It was evident that he hadn't let go and let bygones be bygones.

They talked about inane crap for an hour and drank copious amounts of alcohol. In a stupefied state, James called a taxi to take him home.

“Hey pisshead,” Denise tittered, shaking the blottoed James.
“Huh?”
“How did it go? I can't tell with you being drunk. Where you celebrating or...”
“He was ok about it,” James yawned. “Said not to worry about the bleeding cos women have kids without knowing they're pregnant all of the time.”
“You feel reassured now?” she asked shakily.
“Hmm.”
Denise smiled, then kissed his forehead. “Go back to sleep love.”
“Hmm.”
“Hey James...I love you.”

The doorbell rang, and rang, and rang!
“What the fuck do you want?” Nicky bellowed angrily, not taking in the cards the people before him were proffering.
“CID sir. Please, may we come in? It's in regard to your wife, Mrs Rachel Jones.”

James answered the insistent knocking on the door and irritating ring of the doorbell.
“Hello sir, sorry to disturb you but we understand Ms Denise Whittaker lives here. May we come in?”
Bewildered James ran his hands through his hair and yawned. “Yeah she does. What's all this about? Can I help at all, I'm her partner.”

The police refused to discuss any information or details with James until Denise is present, so James advised her to hurry up in the shower.

She stood before them with her hair dripping, her pyjamas clinging in the places that she had negated to dry
properly, her dressing gown doing nothing to disguise it, or her pregnancy bump.
“I'm Denise Whittaker,” she spluttered anxiously. “You need to talk with me, I erm, hmm, I understand.”
The plain clothed officers stared at one another until the younger one was coaxed into giving an explanation. “Mam, I'm DC Burton and I regret to inform you that earlier today Mr Nicholas Jones took an overdose in response to hearing of his wife's death by an overdose. Mrs Jones died due to the severity of the overdose
although she was alive when taken to hospital. My Jones is still in a critical position but left a note mentioning yourself.”

“Oh God how is he?” Denise asked, collapsing into the nearest chair.
“I'm afraid mam that it's very serious. On top of the plethora of drugs that he took, there were traces of absinthe. We're awaiting toxicology.”
“Oh no!” Cried Denise uncontrollably. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath. James put his arms around her, trying desperately to soothe her.
“Sir, mam, if we may, Mr Jones did leave a note.”

“I'm not certain that we want or need to hear it,” James spouted angrily. “I think that we can guess what he said.”
“Sir, to let you know, Mr Jones is still alive, albeit only just. He is hanging on sir, most bravely. Though I have to warn you that his condition is critical. He left instructions for you to be informed, that's why we're here. He has left notes for all those he was close to.”
James held Denise in his arms. “Perhaps you should love, just so that you know what he wanted to say. I'm here, I'll help you.”

Denise sighed and nodded at the police officer who then took a plastic envelope out of an inner jacket pocket:

Denise, I'm so sorry. I blame myself for losing you and I'll always love you. Be happy with James, he will take great care of you because he loves you. James, I don't hate you, I never could, I found it hard being with you knowing that Den was now a part of your life.

I can't deal with the pain I have caused Rachel, her family and my parents. I have urged them in the note I have written to accept you both and forgive and forget. This is my choice, my decision and you are in no way to blame.

Please forgive me for the pain I am causing by doing this. It is the only way I can be free.

Love always
Nick
x x x x

Several hours after hearing the news and whist awaiting further details from Patrick, Denise began bleeding heavily.
“James! Help me!” she screamed frantically, the panic taking her over.
James was aghast at the sight that he met; Denise was on the white sofa where she had been reading a book, with tears streaming down her face, a face now white from shock, beside her, a huge red stain.
“I'll call an ambulance.” James was so flustered he had immense difficulty in tapping out the digits on the phone.

Apprehensively he clasped Denise's hand whilst anxiously waiting to hear Dr Grissom's diagnosis and information.
“I'm sorry to tell you that you are miscarrying, we want to take you into surgery.”
“Can you save the baby?” asked James.
“The foetus is still present but there is no heartbeat.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, I'm afraid so. We need to operate to remove the foetus and perform a D and C. However, because you are still bleeding, it is possible that your body will expel the foetus naturally.”
“It's our baby!” screamed James, his face contorted with pain and anger. “Stop talking like its nothing!”
Denise remained mute, the shock of the day's events too much for her.
“I'm sorry Mr Bradfield but it's imperative that we take your wife into surgery. Her blood pressure is giving cause for concern, she is anaemic and there have been several clots. Once the surgery is over, we can give her treatment for the clots, but not until then. The longer we leave it, the more your wife's life is in danger.”
“What the hell are you saying? Are you trying to tell me that I could lose Den?”
“That's precisely it sir. Now my team is standing by and ready, can I have your consent?”
Through his tears, James nodded. Shakily he took the pen that a young nurse offered and reluctantly signed the paper on the clipboard.

Heartbroken and powerless, James crumpled into a sobbing, shaking heap. All he could do now was pray. The ringing of his phone jolted him, he'd forgotten to stitch it off; it was Patrick calling him. “Yeah?”
“James, he's pulling through,” Pat cried. “He's making small encouraging signs.”
A nurse poked her head into the room, glaring at James for using his phone but he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. “Don't you fucking start! I don't need your aggravation, I've got a friend in here as well who's critically ill.” The nurse stuck her nose in the air and walked off.

“James what's going on?”
“I'm at the hospital as well, Denise is miscarrying, they've taken her in to surgery. I may lose her Pat.”
“Do you want me to sit and wait with you?”
“Would you? I mean I feel responsible for Nicky being where he is.”
“Now is not the time for guilt or recriminations James.”

Fifty five minutes later, Dr Grissom stood in the doorway.
“How is she?” asked James, rushing over to the doctor.
“We had to resuscitate her twice. The next forty-eight hours are critical.”
“Can I see her?”
“She's on her way to I.C.U. And I want to warn you about what to expect. She is hooked up to machines and is attached to a couple of drips. Your wife is very heavily sedated so she won't be able to acknowledge you in any way for some while.”

James couldn't speak, he was sobbing so hard that Patrick spoke on his behalf. “Is there any brain damage from...well...the resuscitation?”
“There is a possibility. We won't know for some time.”
“what are her chances?”
“I won't lie to you, she has a less than thirty percent chance. She is very weak, has suffered several traumas within a short space of time. We need her to fight, but, at the moment, she isn't rallying at all.” Dr Grissom spoke directly to James. “Mr Bradfield, when you are with her keep talking to her and holding her hand. Let her know how much you love her and want her.”
“He will,” said Pat.
“Good, she needs someone and something to cling on to.”

The worst irony of all was that Denise had been placed next to Nicky in I.C.U. much to the disgust of Allan and Irene. Pat sat with James, occasionally checking on Nick to see if he was starting to wake up.
“Why don't you go out for a cig?” suggested Pat. “The nurse has just checked her and Den is stable at the moment.”
“I want to stay with her,” James sighed heavily. “Although I do need to go to the bathroom.” He tried to force a little smile but it didn't reach his lips.

Drying his hands under the dryer James heard the buzzers and alarms sounding, and people scuttling about. When he opened the door to the unit it hit him that it was Denise's bed that had the curtains drawn around it. Pat was pacing anxiously, an expression of dread and despair on his rugged features. Allan and Irene both sported expressions of terror, fear and sadness, only too well aware that that could be happening to their son.

Pat held James back. “She's arrested James. Let them work.”
James gawped forlornly at Pat, the last time he had felt this useless and impotent had been when his mother was dying.

A doctor walked towards James, when he left the curtained enclosure. “Mr Bradfield?”
James nodded, fearing the worst.
“I'm sorry, we did everything we could...”

THE END.

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