What's it called when a hospital runs out of maternity nurses?

A mid-wife crisis, here you go—courtesy of one of the interns, Pablo, the one with the funny twitch in his eye who keeps me company sometimes.

After another breakup from hell, his life is in a monumental mess, poor guy. That he'll never understand women, if I could tell him what in the bloody hell women want. 'If it's any consolation, Freud couldn't answer the proverbial question either', I almost told him just to break the weighty silence.

Then he cried like a young boy. The 'love of his life' had ended it all by phone, from 3000 miles away, without any explanation. Now he hates her for it. Or he wants to hate her, but the fine art of letting go is always more complex than that.

It's so quiet in here today, isn't it? I like it. This silence. Nothing but the soft patter of the rain against the glass.

Hey, they brought you flowers. How lovely, orchids. Let me place them on the window stool.

The wind too has stopped. Goodness, it'd been moaning all day long.

How are you holding up, sweetheart? I brought some books today, I thought perhaps you'd like me to read to you.

No? Oh, you have something else in mind?

Yes, I remember it perfectly, that day by the lake. And, no, not going to take you seriously.

Why? Because it's a rubbish idea, that's why.

Oh, for Christ's sake, I'm not a writer, am I? Not a romance writer, anyway. So where did you get the idea I could tell one of those stories where people kiss in the rain and get all wet in the wrong places, risking an awful cold?

What?

Come on, why don't you ask me something easy? I'm not so sure I want to talk about myself, I'm not very good at that...

You really want me to tell such an ordinary story?

Our story is not ordinary?

Let me think about it for a little while...

Now? You really are a very impatient man! Where do you think we could start? Valentine's? The flight to London? Further back, maybe with Charlie's birth?

All right then, the flight to London, it is. The beginning.

We need a good opening line, any ideas? 'All this happened—more or less'?

No, you silly, I'm joking. That one's already taken.

Look! God, it's pouring now!

Yes, April rain. At least May should bring us beautiful flowers.

You're right, it was a bloody awful weather that day too.

How about if we start with that? 'A wintery breeze was whipping at my hair and clothes that morning'?

You like it? Hmm, I have my doubts, but we'll see... 

❧ ❧