Lazarus in the Room – part 26 – Planes, Blood and Proposals
By Veganpepsibaby
January/February 2022
Spain
After a hearty lunch including a bottle of wine, Bernie and Serena dashed from the restaurant to San Sebastián Cathedral, more to take shelter from the rain blowing across from the sea, whirling through the coastal city, than a desired interest. But they discovered the place of worship had some beautiful stained glass, and at least it was dry.
“I’m taking a pew,” grinned Bernie at her pun.
“Righty-ho! The wine taking effect old girl!” tittered Serena.
“Oy! I had one small glass, Campbell. I am just taking in the surroundings.” Bernie sat down and tilted her head backward to take in the Cathedral’s magnificent vaulted ceilings.
Serena slid in beside her to sit, taking a long side glance at the woman who still took her breath away. The time spent together traveling from Madrid through La Rioja to San Sebastián had been enchanting; exploring vineyards, discovering new wines, visiting castles, and being captivated by the northern Spanish landscape.
She had witnessed her lover’s eyes recapture the warmth, charm, and ability to disarm her, while her body regained confidence in her stance and movement. Especially the movement, Serena inwardly smiled to herself. Their lovemaking had been relentless during this holiday, reminding Serena of the early months of their fledging relationship all those years ago; vigorous, intense, passionate. And the orgasms…, how many times had they given each other toe curling, breath-taking ecstasy? She reached out to squeeze her wife’s hand, needing to touch her.
Bernie dropped her head, turning towards Serena, with a two-eyed wink, through a damp fringe. A smile lit her face.
“You okay?” she asked quizzing her wife’s face.
“Oh, yes. More than okay. I wish this trip didn’t have to end in a few days. I love you, Bernie.”
“I love you too.”
The couple stared at each other, basking in the moment's serenity. The peace was interrupted by a phone buzzing. Serena scrambled to silence her mobile deep inside her coat pocket while whispering her apologies to no one in particular.
“It’s a missed call from Donna Jackson,” she muttered quietly to Bernie.
A voice mail notification pinged up on the phone screen, followed by a text message.
“I better find out what the urgency is. I’ll walk down to the entrance.” Serena tapped her phone, as Bernie patted her wife’s thigh and nodded.
“I shall follow you down in a few minutes – give you a chance to speak with Donna.”
Serena stood, giving her wife a faint smile laced with concern. She turned, striding along the aisle to the Cathedral’s main doors. Bernie tilted her head backward once more eyes skywards, letting out a deep sigh, hoping the messages were not bad news. Her eyelids grew heavy, as she tried to remain focused on a carved detail on the vaulted ceiling above her.
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A light shake of her shoulder jolted Bernie from her daydream. Her momentary disorientation was calmed by the scent of bergamot, the citrus top note of her wife’s perfume.
“Bernie, I thought you were going to meet me at the entrance. Are you alright?” asked Serena with gentle concern.
“I am so sorry. I think I must have drifted for a minute,” Bernie reached out placing her own hand over the one resting on her shoulder, “Crumbs! Umm, what did Donna want?”
“It’s Jason, Greta, and little Guinnie. They have been in a car accident. Jason is at Holby, while Greta is at St. James,” Serena quickly spoke, as she moved away from the pew.
“And Guinnie?” asked Bernie with concern, standing to follow.
“She is fine. Donna is looking after her. Let’s get back to the car. I’ll explain further once we get out of here.”
Holby
Serena tapped her phone out of flight mode as the plane taxied across the runway. A message flashed up from Martina. I’ll have to check this later, she thought to herself, knowing the focus was on leaving Bristol Airport as quickly as possible for Holby.
“I’ve got Guinevere’s gift and our water bottles in this bag. Have you put away all your things, love?” asked Bernie as she checked their plane seats.
“Err, yes,” came a distracted reply.
“We’ve got this Serena. Please don’t worry,” Bernie wrapped an arm around her wife’s shoulders, before standing to shuffle into the line of departing passengers.
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As Bernie negotiated the mid-morning traffic through Holby, Serena read the text message from Martina.
“Oh, just marvellous!” she huffed, leaning her elbow on the car passenger seat door, rubbing her forehead with her hand.
“What’s happened now?” Bernie quizzed, keeping her eyes on a set of traffic lights.
“Martina texted while we were in flight. There has been a fire up at the vineyard. In the catering kitchen. They have had to cancel our wedding.” Serena sighed and placed her mobile back in her bag.
“Oh…,”
“Yes, oh. Is that your only response?" gruffed Serena, as she looked over at Bernie.
“No…, no. I hope no-one was injured,” came a quiet response.
“Umm, no,” came a guilty reply from Serena for not thinking about that, “the fire occurred during the night. Martina hasn’t said anything else, apart from ‘we’ll sort it,’ and an emoji of a winking face blowing a heart kiss. Whatever that is meant to indicate. Best concern ourselves with the here and now. Oh and remember, Jason doesn’t know about the registry office. I don’t want him getting upset. He knows that they are all invited to Summerland to celebrate in April,” Serena rattled off.
“Yes, sarge!” grinned Bernie, trying to cover her nerves as they approached the Holby City hospital car park. Images of those terrible moments the previous year flashed across her eyes.
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“None of that blood is yours?”
“Oh, no…, no.”
“Right, I better go to the car thistime and fetch you some clean clothes,” Serena smiled, trying to be casual, but bubbling underneath with frustration that the return to Holby resulted in her wife getting into another incident. She would be glad to leave once arrangements for Jason’s transfer to St. James’ was confirmed.
“I think this jumper may be beyond saving, but I think the jeans will be fine with a hot wash. I’m sorry about Guinnie’s gift. We can take her to a toy shop tomorrow so she can pick something. What do you think?” Bernie gazed apologetically directly into Serena’s eyes.
“Sounds like a good idea. Now stay here and don’t get into any more trouble!”
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They held on tightly to each other, as the cold evening wind blustered around them, savouring the warmth from each other. Serena’s fingers continued to rub into Bernie’s head, while she stood on tip-toes.
“Right, I think I need to let you go, love,” mumbled Bernie, as she moved her body slowly forward, “the back is giving up.”
“Well, if you will insist on grand gestures, darling!” giggled Serena.
“I felt a bit mean that we didn’t put Sasha out of his misery. He got quite carried away earlier.”
“Don’t be silly, Bernie. Besides, if we had said anything, that would have let the cat out the bag with Jason. And then we would have been subjected to a whole other round of questioning!”
“I know.” Bernie took Serena’s right hand into her left and squeezed it.
“I can’t say I am going to miss this windy, dirty roof!” laughed Serena, as she struggled to wrap her scarf back around her neck.
“Thank the gods, Hale have a proper roof terrace with a café. We will be able to escape with a coffee,” winked Bernie.
“Hot and strong, and hopefully less of a chill.” Serena fiddled with Bernie’s jacket zip, “shall we get back down to the ward. Jason is being prepped for the transfer.”
They held hands as they made their way towards to the exit door.
“Farewell old roof. Make sure you keep all our secrets,” Bernie said as she prised open the heavy door.
“You, Berenice Griselda Wolfe, are an old romantic. Rooftop proposals, saying goodbye to it.” Serena’s eyes sparkled, as she leaned in for a long soft kiss.
“Hmm, you bring it out in me Serena Wendy Campbell.”
TO BE CONTINUED