Long Time Running - By Hannah Foster Page 0,4

hand the price the beautiful doctor had had paid.

And the price she continued to pay. Nathalie was sure that these headaches, these pains that could stop her cold, were part of the payment.

Nathalie smirked as she slowly opened her eyes. "You know Mylea, before I became a generalist, I was a specialist - a neurosurgeon in fact - I know when it's a headache brought on by the heat and when it's something more. It's just the heat."

Or penance, she added silently.

"Of course" the nurse replied flatly. "At least go home - you need some rest Nathalie."

Nathalie knew that if Mylea was calling her by her first name at work then she was really worried. Not wanting to upset her friend further she acquiesced. "Yes ma'am" she said.

Unsteadily, she got to her feet and pulled her stethoscope from her neck. "Maybe I'll be really lucky and Keith will have cooked."

With the older nurse waving her out the door, Nathalie headed down the worn stone steps at the front of the hospital and down the road home.

As she opened the front door she was greeted by a warm, sweet curry scent floating from the kitchen through the house. She smiled to herself as she closed the door behind her. Keith was definitely here and her favorite dish was stewing on the stove. She felt spoiled.

Keith Wilson was a freelance journalist working in Tanzania who had come to the hospital a year ago to do a story. Nathalie had been taken in by his intelligence and warmth. Not much taller than she was, he had a great shock of red hair and warm friendly brown eyes. Quiet and thoughtful, he had trailed her for a week, peppering her with questions. Nathalie had seen the interest in his eyes but had been unable to respond in kind. Too much of her soul had been given away. And the rest was too damaged to be given.

Relentlessly he had refused to let her hide and after many late dinners, he had been rewarded with a kiss. Nathalie had been rewarded with a man who was loyal, engaging and deeply compassionate. What she felt for him was not the gravity-defying love she had experienced before but he was a good man and he loved her and that was enough.

"You cooked" she greeted him, sliding her arms around his neck and brushing her lips against his.

"You're late" he remarked softly quickly returning her kiss. "I thought your shift ended hours ago."

"You know how it is" she demurred. "Anyways I'm here now and dinner smells amazing."

"I'm glad" he said, stepping out from her embrace. "I tried to wait for you but I was too hungry so I went ahead and ate. I'll get your plate."

Sensing his disappointment she exhaled slowly. "Keith I'm-"

"-sorry" he finished for her. "I know. You're always sorry, you're just never here."

Her green eyes widened in surprise.. "I'm never here? You were gone for a week to Cape Town to cover the AIDS conference."

"I was gone for two weeks" he corrected sadly. "Two weeks. But you're so wrapped up in your work you don't even notice. It's hard enough not to have all of your heart" he told her as he gave a withering glance to the locket around her neck. "But I really wish that wish that you would at least make an effort."

Nathalie took a step back, stung by his words. "Keith-"

He raised his hand, shaking his head. "Nathalie, I'm tired, you're tired, let's table this for another day. Have a seat and I'll prepare you a plate."

Her heart sank at the resignation in his voice; she cared for him deeply and hated hurting him in any way. She smiled sadly and nodded. "I'm just going to wash my hands."

Heading down the narrow hallway to the bathroom, she closed the door and turning on the taps, reached for the soap. She bowed her head momentarily in an attempt to regain her composure; the ache in her heart transmitting itself through her entire body. As she did so, her hand trembled and small beads of perspiration formed on her forehead.

"No, no, no, no" she muttered, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. It was but a moment before the tell tale pounding in her head began and as her legs shook, she gripped the side of the sink trying to ride out the coming seizure. An alkaline taste formed in her mouth and her vision went blurry before finally going black crumpling her.

Chapter 2

Leaning