Page 20 of Christmas Chaos
5
JULY
Twelve weeks + four
Rory hated hospitals. In his life, they were never associated with anything pleasant. During his army days he’d had the misfortune to be blown up in Afghanistan. He was one of the lucky ones, keeping all his limbs as well as his life. But, lying in a hospital bed with too much time to think had taken its toll. He was confident he’d dealt with his PTSD a long time ago, but every time he smelled the mix of cleaning fluid and cabbage, or heard the squeak of rubber shoes on a linoleum floor, forgotten feelings and emotions woke from their graves to stalk him.
But he had to bite the bullet. Zoe was booked in for multiple appointments and he was going to be there for every single one. So far, pregnancy seemed as fun as a never-ending ride on a decrepit rollercoaster after drinking five bottles of Buckfast. Zoe was still feeling sick the whole time, her bladder had the capacity of a teacup, she was perpetually exhausted, and her emotions had more bounce than a bungee cord. Maybe this was why his parents only had him. God only knew how Fiona always appeared so bonny.
Despite his best intentions and how many hours a day he worked to relieve Zoe’s workload, she seemed unable to step off the bridge of the good ship Christmas and let him shoulder more of the responsibility. If he had his way, the celebrations would require less input than a pedalo on a boating lake. However, Zoe’s version of Christmas was a cruise liner crossed with a container ship. The one good thing was that she hadn’t seemed to notice they’d stopped having sex.
Charlie had come through for him with a shopping list of vibrators long enough to stock a sex shop. Rory had no idea there were so many permutations. They vibrated, they pulsed, they had ultrasonic waves, they sucked, they blew, they had two heads, three heads, ears, rattling balls. Some were even remote controlled. He thought he knew what sex involved, but it was clear he was a caveman living in a sci-fi world and hadn’t yet got with the programme. He’d ordered a selection that were mainly external, ensuring anything that would be penetrating her was half the size of his cock, then put them through the castle accounts under ‘hospitality and entertainment’.
Red-faced, he’d presented them to Zoe one morning, explaining that he wasn’t going to be around much. The embarrassment turned into relief when it seemed they were doing the trick. And when he thought she might initiate any intimacy, he made an excuse to leave the cabin. There was no way he was going to let his selfish desires risk her health or the baby’s.
However, sitting in the consultation room at the hospital, it appeared his cunning plan had not been entirely effective.
‘Everything’s alright then?’ Zoe asked the elderly midwife.
‘Oh yes, dear. You’re now into your second trimester. Your baby is fully formed and just needs to cook.’
‘So, it’s okay to have sex?’
The woman peered at her over the top of her glasses. ‘Why, yes, dear. Are you not indulging in marital relations at present?’ She looked keenly at Rory as if he was to blame.
‘No. My husband refuses to have sex with me.’
What?
‘Oh,’ replied the midwife. She took her glasses off to give him the full force of her glare. ‘And why is that?’
‘Um, we do, I mean, er, you do have…’ he broke off and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck. Why were hospitals always so bloody hot? ‘I’ve, er, ensured that you are, ahem, satisfied.’ He concluded, extremely aware of how dissatisfied both his wife and the midwife currently appeared.
Zoe swivelled in her chair to face him. ‘Yes, but none of those instances involve you or your penis going anywhere near my body. And anyway, what about your needs?’
‘My needs?’ What did they have to do with anything?
‘Yes, Rory. I want to give you pleasure. I want your cock in—’
He coughed loudly. Jesus Christ, did she not realise Mrs Doubtfire was taking notes?
‘We’re not going to have sex until after the birth. I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,’ he replied testily.
‘What?’ Zoe screeched. ‘Is that what all the sex toys are about?’
The midwife chuckled. ‘Mr MacGinley, this is a common concern but entirely unfounded. I’m positive your penis is no different from any other man’s. Besides, the female vagina can accommodate pretty much anything, and the cervix and mucous plug protect the baby.’
Zoe had a dangerous glint in her eye. ‘See, your penis is as average as the next man’s.’
‘But what about Zoe’s bleed three weeks ago? The risk?’
‘Mr MacGinley. Your wife stopped passing blood over a week ago, and even if it continued, normal intercourse is perfectly safe. Your penis—’
‘Will youpleasestop talking about my penis?’ Sweat was trickling down his back. Fucking hell, women could be terrifying. Thank god his mother was on the other side of the Atlantic.
‘Maybe,’ Zoe replied, crossing her arms. The movement pushed her breasts together. They’d been getting bigger over the last few weeks.
He tore his gaze away and focused on the little old lady who had a naughtier glint in her eye than his wife’s.
