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by Seraphina Parts 21-25 Part 21 Paul had showered and dressed although had forgone a shave just to spite Sara who disliked him kissing her when he was prickly. He�d also, much to everyone�s surprise, even his own, got the three McLachlans organised, dressed, and had begun to tell them his own version of Little Red Riding Hood but was stopped by Sara when he started elaborating on the events that took place when the wolf got to Grandma�s house by launching into a certain song about dogs. They were now absorbed in re-runs of Monkey Magic. [sorry, but I love that show- seraphina] He was now once again, seated at the table along with Richard and Tim, reading through the fax and arguing over things that he wasn�t entirely happy with, which was just about everything. Sara came and sat on his knee at his inviting just as he launched a verbal abuse at Richard for even suggesting that they cut down costs by sharing a hotel room. "No fucking way!" he shouted. "I thought I made it clear that I wasn�t going through that again. You bloody snore and he," he stabbed a finger in Tim�s direction. "talks in his bloody sleep. Not to mention the time he sleep walked and I woke to find him snuggled up behind me and breathing down my bloody neck!" Sara turned to look at Paul. "You never told me about that." "Yes, well it�s something I�d rather forget," he scowled gruffly. "Come off it Paul," Tim scoffed. "Don�t act like you didn�t like it and who�s to say my ending up in your bed was a case of sleep walking?" He arched one eyebrow suggestively. "Hey," Sara said sharply. "Keep your mits off my man unless I�m there to join in." "Come again?" asked Paul, surprised at her perverse comment. "If you�re lucky," she quipped. There was a general snicker from all three males present. "Hmm, Seedy Sara. Since when did you become the deviate?" asked Tim. She looked at him, surprised. "I�ve always thought like that, I just normally keep those kind of comments to myself. I�ve got a reputation to up hold didn�t you know?" The phone rang and Paul grabbed the cordless off the table before Sara could. "Good day, Classic Ladies escort service. Madam Pauletta speaking. How may we make your day an orgasmic one?" "Paul!" Sara hissed, slapping him upside the head and snatching the phone away from him. "Hello? Oh hi Calum. Sorry about Paul, he�s got the mentality of a three year old. Oh she did? That�s fantastic. Congrats�you did?" her face fell. "Really, you did�t have to�you really shouldn�t have�yes, well thankyou, I�m very honoured. I�ll just get the kids for you�oh, ok. I�ll tell them you�ll be here soon then. Seeya." She pressed end, sighed and put her head on the table. Paul looked at Tim and Richard for an answer but they just shrugged. "What�s the matter hun?" "Eleanor had a girl and they named her after me." "Oh my God, no!" he gasper in mock horror. "What�s the matter with that. Sara�s a nice name." She sat up again and sunk back against his chest, her head resting in the crook of his neck. "No, you don�t understand. They wanted to keep with the Scottish theme so they used the Gaelic form of the name�my real name." The was a snort from Richard. Sara glanced at him. "I take you know the Gaelic for Sara?" He nodded, a silly grin plastered on his face. "You can tell them then," she said, sounding forlorn. Rich didn�t say anything, just sat there smirking. "Will someone just say it please?" asked Tim exasperatedly. "It can�t be that friggin� bad." Sara sighed. "Morag�it�s Morag." "OK, I take my last comment back." Tim burst out laughing. Although he tried hard not to, Paul snickered too. "That�s your name? Morag? It sounds like you�re throwing up. Moraaaag," he gagged. "It used to be my name. I had it legally changed once I turned eighteen but now that poor little baby is going to grow up being called that all because I went and showed too much bloody compassion and took that lot in," she said, indicating in the direction of the lounge room. "Well I guess I�d better go tell them they�ve got a new sister and that Calum is coming to pick them up soon." She stood and walked off towards the lounge repeating �Morag� in different tones, trying to make it sound better. She shook her head realising it was no use and disappeared out of the family room leaving Paul, Tim and Richard to continue to argue over accommodation arrangements. "I told you, I�m not sharing a fucking room with you!!!" Part 22 It was around five o�clock. Calum had been by a while ago to pick up his lot. Sara, Tim and Richard couldn�t hide their amusement when Isabelle and Angus insisted on hugging Paul goodbye and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Hamish settled for a manly handshake. As their Pajero family wagon [sorry, couldn�t help myself- sera]had pulled away and disappeared up the street, Paul had whooped with delight. "Thank God that�s over," he�d said happily. "And you," he�d looked at Sara. "If you ever agree to take children in again, don�t expect me to hang around. I�ll be outa here like a flash." He�d shut the front door and walked up the hall. "Oh Paul," she�d called out after him. "I thought you�d like to know that I told Calum you�d be happy to babysit for them any time I�m not free." "AHHHHHHHH!!!" Tim and Paul were just arriving back at the house after going out to get a slab of beer although they�d already finished off the one from the day before, plus a few Bundi�s and coke and were already a little on the happy side. Rich had stayed back with Sara because the two of them were slightly more affected by the alcohol than the other two. As Paul and Tim approached the front door, squeals, laughter and barking was heard to be coming from the other side. Paul looked at Tim, shrugged, opened the door and stepped into the house. Sara and Rich had started to get impatient waiting for the other two to come back with more beer and so had raided the liquor cabinet. Both were delighted to come across a half empty bottle of Chivas Regal blended scotch whisky. In all fairness, they hadn�t had a lot of it but the small amount they had had, had really taken it�s affect on them. [did I just beat some kind of record for having the same word three times in a row?-sera] In their happy state, they found four pairs of old socks, put a pair on each and then the other two pair on Tiny who although hadn�t been drinking, (coz dogs don�t drink, although there was this dog of a girl at a party I went to once�but that�s another story.) seemed to be high on life. They had then got a can of Mr Sheen, sprayed the bottom of the socks and were now proceeding to slip around on the polished floor boards like lunatics. "Hey Richy," said Sara from the end of the hall opposite the front door. "Take a looky at me!" She took a bit of a run up and then went into a speeding slide, promptly colliding with Paul as he walked in through the door. Tim stepped over the giggling tangle at his feet and stood laughing next to Rich who had just slid up. "Ooops, Pauly we seem to have taken a bit of tumble," said Sara before collapsing into a fit of giggles. Just then, there was a bark from behind Tim who neatly side stepped as Tiny came half sliding, half running up the hall, rammed into and joined the pile at the door that was Paul and Sara. He immediately started licking Paul all over the face and wagging his tale ecstatically. "Ugh. Stop it you stupid dog," Paul growled and pushed the huge, slobbering animal away before collapsing into a fit of titters [hmmm, a fit of titters�don�t ask me where I pulled that one from- sera]. Sara lay on the floor, flaying her arms around like a turtle stuck on it�s back, trying to right itself. She looked up at Tim and pouted. "Timmy, I�ve fallen and I can�t get up. Help me?" Tim dumped the slab in Richard�s arms, who staggered under the sudden weight, and then reached down, hauled Sara to her feet and slung her over his shoulder. He then Proceeded to walk off with her in the direction of the family room. "Oi!" Paul said, staggering to his feet. "Give me back my woman!" He skipped happily up the hall- He was a man on a mission.- tripped and fell over -ok, so he�s not a man on a mission, he�s just tipsy- picked himself up again and stumbled off to join Tim and Sara. Richard was having a lot of trouble trying to carry a rather heavy slab of beer whilst wearing Mr Sheened socks and being slightly on the inebriated side but somehow he made it and was greeted by cheers from the beer thirsty lot waiting for him. Two and half hours later, they were all sick of sock sliding and the alcohol they�d consumed was starting to wear off. They were contemplating opening another couple of tinnies when Sara suggested they hit a few bars and make a night of it. no one needed asking twice. And so it came to be that four mildly intoxicated �adults� stumbled around the streets of the inner Sydney suburbs, visiting any hotels that happened along their travels. well aren�t they the lucky ones. Whilst I�m here, slaving over this bloody keyboard, they�re out getting pissed as bloody�I was going to say carrots but I�ve never seen a pissed carrot before. God I could use a drink. I just went through my parents liquor cabinet and found about 4 bottles of Chivas, 5 Black Label, 4 Red label and at least 2 Gold label. The bloody tight arses haven�t opened any of course so I can�t even take a swig. They�ve only left the crap stuff open�but such is like I guess. BLOODY HELL! And that would be the writer�s whinge for the story. Part 23 At 1:00am, the four of them stumbled out of a laneway pub, drunk as skunks, after being refused service. "Theys was means," sulked Richard. "I�lla be tellin� my fwiends about this ere place an none of it�s gonna be good!" he called out over his shoulder. A group of four men were heading their way as they made their way down the alley. One of them whistled at Sara and started making crude propositions. Sara had to hold Paul back as a he tried to take a swing at the man who�d made the comment. The man, who�s head was shaped like a box and his friends laughed at Paul�s drunken attempts to stand up for Sara. "Come on love, I�ll show you a better time than your dwarf any time." Box head a suggestive movement with his hips. Again, Paul made a lunge but the other three held him back. "Paul, he�s not worth it," Sara hissed although by now, she was starting to have the urge to slog this guy and his mates. She didn�t like the way they were leering at her, as if she was some sort of object to be fought over and owned. "Come on mate," box head winked at Paul. "Let us in on your secret. How much does a little runt like you have to pay a whore like her?" Tim and Richard were too busy trying to hold back an infuriated Paul that they could do nothing to stop Sara start pummelling box head. It was quite a funny thing to see actually. Sara was so petite yet here she was, giving her all to a guy built like a brick shit house, and her all was quite a lot. She hadn�t taken martial arts just so she could wear white pyjama type outfits and acquire pretty coloured belts. Box head�s friends tried to pull her off him and were caught off guard as Paul broke free of Tim and Rich�s grasp and threw himself into the kafuffle, screaming something inaudible at the top of his lungs. Tim and Rich looked at each other, shrugged and joined in the brawl. They seemed to be holding their own quite well. Paul was driven by his short temper and he held the upper hand because he was able to dodge easily due to his size. Rich, well Rich was a very precise man and so managed to hit his targets quite well but also copped a couple. Tim had trained at Duntroon, and had even made it to the rank of captain so fighting wasn�t a problem and he had some advantage with his height also. Sara, as said before, was not in the least incompetent when it came to fighting, it was just pure bad luck that in her drunken state, she ran right into the pole of the no standing sign, mistaking it for one of her assailants. "�ll teachya to mess with Paul McDermott ya fuckin� ugly bastards!" Paul called after the four men who were making a hasty retreat after deciding that they had made a mistake in picking a fight with this motley bunch. "Ha! We sure showded them a thingy or twosy, didn�t we fellas?!" "Yeah," said Richard enthusiastically. He was bouncing around, the adrenalin still pumping, blood pouring from his lip and several other abrasions on his face. There was a giggle from Tim who�s left eye was already starting to puff up and change to a shade of purple. "They sure didn�t expect you to be frowin da first punch and frowin it so fucking well, Sara." There was no reply. "Sara?" Rich called. Still no reply. They scanned the dark alley from where they stood, looking more than a little confused. "Oh God," choked Paul as his eyes came to rest on her crumpled form in front of the sign post. "Sara!" All three of them rushed over to her, Paul beginning to blubber like a small child. She showed no sign of consciousness or life for that matter as Tim began a first aid check on her. Richard put his arm around Paul who kept saying that he was sorry. "She�s breathing, she�s just knocked herself out by running into the pole the silly bitch," Tim said nervously but not without affection. "She�ll be fine, don�t start panicking." Paul stoped his crying and looked at Tim steadily. "You seem to have forgotten one minor detail Timmy." "And what�s that?" "She�s got a fucking lethal blood clot in her fucking bloody brain!" Paul screamed. The colour drained from Tim�s face. Even the black eye looked a little paler. "Start panicking." Part 24 Paul ran his hands through his hair, unable to keep from fidgeting as he waited outside the hospital room for the doctor to finish her examination. Upon finding Sara in her unconscious state, an ambulance had been called in which Paul had grabbed a lift, unwilling to leave Sara who had not shown any signs of waking up any time soon. He didn�t know what had happened to Tim or Rich, he didn�t really care. The events surrounding his current location were enough to sober him up sufficiently to realise that there could be a major problem. He had started to pace when the doctor finally emerged from the room. He all but pounced on the moment he saw her. "Is she ok? Is she going to be alright?" "Well Mr McDermott, she�s taken a nasty knock-" "Yes I know that," he said impatiently. "I was there. She was drunk and ran into a pole but is she going to be alright?" The doctor sighed. "As far as we can tell from the scans, the aneurism hasn�t moved but," she added when Paul sighed with relief. "But, that isn�t to say that she�s out of the woods yet, so to speak. She hasn�t showed any signs of regaining consciousness as of yet but chances are she will and it�s important that she takes it easy, rests up for a while. It�s imperative that in this sort of situation, head injuries must be avoided. If anything like this happens again, I can�t guarantee that she�ll come out of it as unscathed as she has, in fact, she�ll probably be dead. It won�t take much for the clot to move and when it does, they�ll be no stopping it. I�m sorry. I�d like to keep her in for observations for the next few days, just to make sure everything�s as alright as we can make it." Paul nodded. Although he already knew all of this, the reality of it all still struck him hard. The doctor said her goodbyes, told him she�d come and check on Sara when she woke up and went off to finish her rounds. Paul walked over and stood in the door way of the hospital room, the only thing penetrating the numbness of his mind was the steady beep of the heart monitor. Closing his eyes, he prayed silently that all of this was a dream and that when he opened his eyes, he�d be standing in the doorway of his bedroom, watching Sara in a natural sleep. He almost collapsed on the floor with grief when he opened his eyes and she was still lying there, skin looking even paler against the stark white of the hospital bed clothes. "Paul?" He turned with a start at the sound of his name being called to see Tim walking briskly up the corridor, Richard trailing behind, continuously looking over his shoulder, paranoid about something. Paul embraced both of them, they patted him on the back, a show of manly support, before standing with him in the doorway, gazing sadly in at the room�s occupant. "How is she?" Richard asked nervously, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. Paul miserably rested his head on the door jam. "They said that she should be okay. The clot hasn�t moved as of yet and she should wake up soon but if anything like this ever happens again�" he trailed off, not wanting to confront the possibilities just yet, besides, it was blatantly obvious to what he what he was trying to say and the other two didn�t push him for details. He needed to change the subject before his emotions got the better of him. "How are you two anyway? You seem to have copped a good one in the eye Tim." "Tis nothing. Don�t worry about me. I�ll just chuck a steak on it when I get the chance. Rich lost a tooth though. Ducked when he should�ve weaved the bloody dickhead." Richard looked at Tim angrily. "Hey I�m right here. Could you at least wait for me to be out of earshot before you go insulting me?" Time put his arm around Richard�s shoulder. "Richy, Richy, Richy�what would be the fun in that. I may as well insult the bloody wall if I were going to do that." "Shutup!" Richard scowled, pulling away from Tim before looking once again over his shoulder. "Rich, what the fuck is your problem?" Paul asked. "Wha?" Richard had a bewildered look on his face. [kinda like you in that aspect eh Sparky? *g*- sera] "I haven�t got a problem." "Well that�s bloody debateable. I mean, what�s with the looking over your shoulder? You�ll end up stumbling on something if you keep doing that, like your brain perhaps. I�m sure it�s around here somewhere having misplaced it a short time after your birth." Richard sulked. "We had to sneak past this huge matron woman�well at least I think she was a woman. A big Frau Brunhilde person, fat lady thing she was. Scared the shit out of me, don�t wanna be followed, no, no, not by her. The hills were definitely not alive with sounds of music. No, scary hairy homicidal tendencies. First rate, skeletons in the cupboard kill me when my back�s turned material that lady, man person." Tim shook his head. "OK, it�s waaaaay past our little Richy�s bedtime and he�s had a little too much of the Newy brown ale. Let�s get you home." he turned and gave Paul a sympathetic look. "You gonna be OK here mate?" Suddenly sucked back into reality, Paul found that he didn�t really want to have to think. He ran his hands tiredly over his face and then through his hair. "I guess so. I want to be here when she wakes up so I might be a while. Do me a favour will you?" "Name it buddy and it shall be done." "Feed that stupid dog of hers. It escapes my mind as to when that task was performed last and I�ll dare say, it�ll be getting hungry." Tim�s face fell at the request. "You want me to feed that mongrel?" Paul gave him a pleading look and he caved. God knew that he was under enough pressure at the moment without having to argue over the feeding of the dog. They said their goodbyes, cast regretful glances once more in Sara�s direction and strode off down the corridor. Well, Tim strode, Richard was dragged as he looked around frantically for any signs that �Brunhilde� had discovered their illegal presence. Paul chuckled softly to himself before walking into the room and taking a seat in the chair by the bed, determined to keep vigil over her until she woke. Sitting in the silence, he could do nothing but cry. He didn�t howl, just softly sobbed, willing her to wake up, wishing that everything could be okay, knowing full well that it wouldn�t, couldn�t be okay. Part 25 Sara woke, feeling�well, feeling like shit. She felt like death run over twice, if not three times and she had no idea where she was. It took a little while for her to focus on her surroundings but once she did, it became obvious to her that she was in a hospital. This lead her to try and remember why she would be in a hospital which in turn lead to a shooting pain exploding in her head making her want to vomit. She snapped her eyes quickly shut and slowly let things come back to her. Alcohol, socks, alcohol, pub, alcohol, punch up, pole�pole? How stupid could she be. Running into a Goddamn pole. No wonder her head felt like it did. After coming to terms with her stupidity, she once again attempted opening her eyes and looking around the room. She had enough sense to try to not move whilst doing this. It would only result in a whole lot of pain and possibly, a re-acquaintance with what ever it was she last consumed which, if her recall was correct, would be a whole lot of alcohol plus the ham, cheese and pickle sandwich she�d had eaten sometime between now and�nope, that was having to think too hard and we didn�t want to be doing that. Moving her eyes as slowly as possible, the first thing she noticed was Paul seated next to her bed, his head hanging and in his hands. She also noticed that he was trembling slightly. As much as she didn�t want to, she lifted her hand slowly and touched his head softly. "Paul?" A tear stained face looked up startled. He made a frantic grab for the hand that she�d touched him with and held it to his face, closing his eyes, revelling in the fact that this was reality and in reality, Sara was alive and conscious. "You�ve been crying," she said softly. "Why were you crying." His eyes flicked open with disbelief. "Why was I crying? Why was I crying?! Do you have any idea how close I came to loosing you tonight? Do you?!" he accused her. She was a little taken aback at his little outburst but softened as she saw that he threatened to start up with the water works again. "Paul, I�m sorry but I don�t want you to be so upset by this. You know I�m going to die sooner rather than later and as hard and as impossible as it sounds, I don�t want you to be so upset about it. I want you to be able to go on with life." "I�m not upset about you dying. I�m upset by the thought of being left with that mongrel of yours." The comment left his lips before he could think about what he was saying. But once he�d said it, he wished immediately that he could take it back. "Oh God, Sara. I�m sorry. I shouldn�t joke about it I know, it�s just-" Sara burst out laughing, lamenting this action as soon as she did it. God her head hurt. "It�s just your way of dealing with it," she finished for him. "It�s okay, I understand in fact, I want you to crack jokes about it, make the situation funny. God knows it�s caused us enough grief. There�s got to be a funny side of it somewhere, and you�ll find it, you always do. I want you to make people laugh about it. Promise me that. Promise me that one day, you�ll make people laugh about this crappy predicament." He looked at her as if she was crazy. Maybe the bump to the head had done some damage. She saw his reserved look. "Paul, promise me." "OK, I promise that I�ll make people laugh about the fact that you died, in the prime of your life, in such a bloody awful way," he said sarcastically. "I�m serious. It may sound stupid now, but when the time comes, you�ll feel better about it. Trust me. You might even laugh about it yourself. You won�t be able to go on grieving for ever." "I will if I want," he said indignantly still holding her hand to his face. She gave him a look. "Paul, please." "Fine, I promise." "God I love you," she said, sitting up slightly. The movement caused her to vomit all over him, proving just how much her affections were for him. Parts 26-30 A Long Time Dead index Back to DAAS Fiction Index |
