Accidentally Expecting!

CHAPTER ELEVEN

IT WAS late at night when Ferne reached her apartment, to find it gloomy and cold. Locking the door behind her, she stood in the silence, thinking of Dante far away, locked in a chill darkness that was more than physical.

She’d eaten nothing all day, and after turning on the heating she began to prepare a meal, but suddenly she stopped and simply went to bed. She had no energy to be sensible.

Where are you? she thought. What are you doing? Are you lying alone, your thoughts reaching out to me, as mine to you? Or are you passing the time with some girl you picked up for the evening? No, it’s too soon. You’ll do that eventually, but not just yet.

She slept for a little while, awoke, slept again. Sleeping or waking, there were only shadows in all directions. At last she was forced to admit that a new day had dawned, and slowly got out of bed.

Her first action was to call Hope. She’d managed to keep her up to date about the disaster, Dante’s discovery of her files, their trip to Milan and her return to England, and Hope had asked for a call to say she’d arrived safely.

‘I meant to call last night, but I got in so late,’ she apologised.

‘Never mind. How are you? You sound terrible.’

‘I’ll be fine when I’ve had a cup of tea,’ she said, trying to sound relaxed.

‘How are you really?’ Hope persisted with motherly concern.

‘I’ll need a little time,’ she admitted. ‘How’s Dante?’

‘He’ll need time too. Carlo and Ruggiero went round to see him last night. He wasn’t at home, so they trawled the local bars until they found him sitting in a corner, drinking whisky. They took him home, put him to bed and stayed with him until morning. Carlo just called me to say he’s awake, with an almighty hangover, but otherwise all right.’

They parted with mutual expressions of affection. A few minutes later the phone rang. It was Mike.

‘I’ve been hearing rumours,’ he said. ‘They say you might be back in the land of the living.’

She almost laughed. ‘That’s one way of putting it. I’m back in England.’

‘Great! I have work piling up for you.’

‘I thought you dumped me.’

‘I don’t dump people with your earning potential. That job you turned down is still open. They tried someone else, didn’t like the result and told me to get you at any price. It’s fantastic money.’

The money was awesome. If the Sandor episode had propelled her into the big time, her refusal of an even better offer had given her rarity value.

‘All right,’ she interrupted Mike at last. ‘Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.’

Later that day she went to the theatre, where the major star and his equally famous fiancée were rehearsing. From the first moment everything went well. They liked her, she liked them. Their genuine love for each other made them, at least for the moment, really nice people. They praised her pictures and insisted that she must take some more at their wedding.

The tale of her meeting with Sandor in Italy had got out. She began to receive offers to ‘tell all’ to the press. She refused them, but Sandor had heard rumours and become nervous, having given a self-serving interview to a newspaper, illustrated with several of Ferne’s notorious pictures. Her fame had increased. So had her price.

All around her, life was blossoming.

No, she thought, not life. Just her career. Life no longer existed.

She talked regularly with Hope and gained the impression that Dante’s existence was much like her own, outwardly successful but inwardly bleak.

But there was no direct word from him until she’d been home for a month, and then she received a text:

Your success is in all the papers. I’m glad you didn’t lose out. Dante.

She texted back:

I lost more than you’ll ever know.

After that there was silence. Desperately she struggled to reconcile herself to the fact that she would never hear from him again, but then she received a letter.

I know how generous you are, and so I dare to hope that in time you will forgive me for the things I said and did. Yes, I love you; I know that I shall always love you. But for both our sakes I can never tell you again.

Night after night she wept with the letter pressed against her heart. At last she replied:

You don’t need to tell me again. It’s enough that you said it once. Goodbye, my dearest.

He didn’t reply. She had not expected him to.

Her sleep was haunted by wretched dreams. In one she found that time had passed and suddenly there he was, older but still Dante. She reached out eagerly to him but he only gazed at her without recognition. Someone took him by the arm to lead him away.

Then she knew that the worst had happened, and he’d become the brain-damaged man he’d always feared. She longed for him to look back at her just for a moment, but he never did. She’d been blotted from his mind as if she had never been.

She woke from that dream to find herself screaming.

Struggling up in bed, she sat fighting back her sobs until suddenly her whole body seemed to become one gigantic heave. She flung herself out of bed and just managed to dash to the bathroom in time.

When it was over, she sat shivering and considering the implications.

It could be just a tummy bug, she thought. It doesn’t mean I’m pregnant.

But it did. And she knew it. A hurried visit to the chemist, and a test confirmed it.

The discovery that she was to have Dante’s child came like a thunderclap. She’d thought herself modern, careful, sensible, but in the dizzying delight of loving him she’d forgotten everything else. In a moment her life had been turned upside down. Everything she’d considered settled was in chaos.

A child of Dante’s, born from their love, but also born with chance of the hereditary illness that had distorted his life: a constant reminder of what she might have had and had lost.

The sensible answer was a termination, but she dismissed the thought at once. If she couldn’t have Dante, she could still have a little part of him, and nothing on earth would persuade her to destroy that. Fiercely she laid her hands over her stomach, still perfectly flat.

‘I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you,’ she vowed. ‘No matter what the future holds, you’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe.’

Then she realised that she’d spoken the words aloud, and looked around the apartment, wondering who she’d really been addressing. One thing was for sure: Dante had a right to know, and then, perhaps…

‘No, no!’ she cried. ‘No false hopes. No fantastic dreams. Just tell him and then-and then?’

Once her mind was made up, she acted quickly, calling Mike and clearing the decks at work. Then she got on a plane to Naples, and booked into a hotel. She told nobody that she was coming, not even Hope. This was between Dante and herself.

It was still light when she walked the short distance to the apartment block and stood looking up at his windows, trying to discern any sign of life. But it was too soon for lamps to be on.

She took the lift to the fifth floor and hesitated. It was unlike her to lack confidence, but this was so vital, and the next few minutes so important. She listened, but could hear nothing from inside. The silence seemed a bleak forecast of what was to come. Suddenly her courage drained away and she stepped back.

But her spirit rebelled at the thought of giving up without trying, and she raised her hand to ring the bell. Then she dropped it again. What was the point? Dante himself had believed that you couldn’t buck fate, and now she saw that he was right. Fate was against them. Defeated, she headed for the elevator.

‘Don’t go!’

The words were almost a scream. Turning, she saw Dante standing there in his doorway. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt torn open, his face was haggard and his eyes looked as though he hadn’t slept for a month. But the only thing she noticed was that his arms were outstretched to her, and the next moment she was enfolded in them.

They held each other in silence, clasped tight, not kissing, but clinging to each other as if for refuge.

‘I thought you were never going to knock,’ he said frantically. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

‘You knew I was coming?’

‘I saw you standing down there. I didn’t believe it at first. I’ve seen you so often and you always vanished. Then I heard the lift coming up, and your footsteps-but you didn’t ring the bell, and I was afraid it was just another hallucination. I’ve had so many; I couldn’t bear another. So many times you’ve come to me and vanished before I could wake and keep you here.’

He drew her into the apartment, and enfolded her in his arms again.

‘Thank God you’re here,’ he said, words that carried her to the heights.

But his next words dashed her down again.

‘I’ve longed to see you just once more. We parted badly, and it was my fault. Now at least there can be peace between us.’

So in that he hadn’t changed. He was no longer denying his love, but in the long term he was still determined to keep apart from her.

She took a deep breath. Relief at finding him here had undermined her resolution, but now the moment had arrived.

‘It isn’t that simple,’ she said, stepping back and regarding him with loving eyes. ‘Something’s happened. I came to tell you about it-but then I’ll go away if you like, and you need never see me again.’

His mouth twisted. ‘That doesn’t work very well.’

‘No, with me neither, but when you hear what I have to say you might be so angry that you want me to leave.’

‘Nothing could make me angry with you.’

‘You were once.’

‘I stopped being angry a long time ago. Most of it was aimed at myself. I forced you into an impossible situation, I know that. I should have stayed clear of you from the start.’

‘It’s too late for that. The time we had together has left me with more than memories.’ Seeing him frown, she said, ‘I’m going to have a baby, Dante.’

Just for a moment she saw joy on his face, but it was gone in an instant, as though he’d quenched it forcibly.

‘Are you sure?’ he breathed.

‘There’s no doubt. I did a test, and then I came here to tell you, because you have the right to know. But that’s it. I don’t expect you to react in a conventional way because I know you can’t.’

‘Wait, wait!’ he said fiercely. ‘I need time to take this in. You can’t just-A baby! Dear God!’

‘I did dare to hope you’d be pleased,’ she said sadly. ‘But I suppose you can’t be.’

‘Pleased-at bringing another child into the world to spend a lifetime wondering what was happening inside him? I thought we were safe, that you were taking care; hell, I don’t know what I thought. But I always swore I’d never father a child.’

‘Well, you’ve fathered one,’ she said quietly. ‘We have to go on from there. You can’t turn the clock back.’

‘There is one way.’

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Don’t even mention that. If you think for a moment that I could destroy your child, you don’t begin to know me. I told you I love you, but I could easily hate you if you ask me to do that.’

But she couldn’t stay angry as she looked at him, saddened by the confusion in his face. He’d always insisted on being in control, quick-stepping with fate to the edge, but now he’d reached an edge he’d never dreamed of and he was lost. The thought gave her an idea.

‘Fate doesn’t always do what we expect,’ she said, slipping her arms about his neck. ‘It’s had this waiting for you quite a while, and it’s probably been laughing up its sleeve, thinking it’s found the way to defeat you. But we’re not going to let it win.’

He rested his forehead against hers. ‘Doesn’t fate always win?’ he whispered.

‘That depends who you have fighting with you.’ She stepped back, taking his hand and laying it over her stomach. ‘You’re not alone any more. There are two of us backing you up now.’

He stared. ‘Two?’

‘Two people fighting on your side.’ She gave a faint smile at the stunned look on his face, and pointed to her stomach. ‘There is actually someone in there, you know. A person. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, but it’s yours, and it’s as ready to defend you as I am. When you get to know each other, you’ll be the best of friends.’

He was very still, and she sensed him holding his breath as he struggled to come to terms with ideas that had always been alien to him.

‘It won’t be easy,’ she urged, speaking with gentle persistence. ‘It may have your family’s inherited illness, so we’ll find out, and if the news is bad at least you’ll be there to help. You can explain things that nobody else can. The two of you will probably form an exclusive society that shuts me out, but I won’t mind, because you’ll have each other, and that’s all you’ll really need.’

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘Never shutting you out, because we can’t manage without you. But, my love, you don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for.’

‘Yes, I do: a life of worry, always wondering how long the happiness will last.’

‘If you know that-’

‘But the other choice is a life without you, and I choose you. I choose you for me and as a father for our child, because nobody else can be the father you can. Nobody else knows the secrets you do.’

He held her close, where she belonged, where she’d dreamed of being all the long, lonely weeks. They neither kissed nor caressed, but stood still and silent, rediscovering each other’s warmth, coming home. At last he led her into the bedroom and drew her down onto the bed.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said quickly. ‘I won’t try to make love to you.’

‘Darling, it’s all right,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m in the early stages. It’s quite safe.’

‘Safe,’ he whispered. ‘What does “safe” mean? You can never be sure, can you? And we won’t take any risks.’ He gave a sharp, self-critical laugh. ‘Listen to me, talking about not taking risks. But I’m such a selfish beggar; I’ve never had to think about anyone else’s health before. I guess I’ll have to get working on that.’

She kissed him in a passion of tenderness.

‘You’re almost there now,’ she murmured.

‘Almost?’

‘There’s something I want you to do,’ she said, speaking quietly, although her heart was beating hard. ‘We’re going to find out the truth about your condition. I can’t live with the uncertainty.’

‘And if the worst is true?’ he asked slowly.

‘Then we’ll face it. Not just for our sake, but for our child’s too. This is your baby, born into the same heritage, and I want to know what it may face. If I don’t know the truth, I shall worry myself sick, and that isn’t a good thing for the baby. Do this for me, my love.’

In the long silence she sensed his agony and enfolded him protectively, trying to speak of her love without words.

‘Be a little patient,’ he begged at last. ‘Don’t ask me just yet.’

She understood. She was asking him to overturn the rules on which his whole life had been lived, and it was hard. All his major decisions had been taken alone. Now she’d told him that he had two supporters, but he was still struggling to adjust to that idea, or even understand it.

‘Take your time,’ she whispered.

They slept without making love, and when she woke at first light it was no surprise to find him sitting by the window, as he had often done before. She went to join him, sitting quietly. He didn’t turn his head, but his fingers entwined with hers.

‘It’s still waiting there,’ he said, indicating the silent volcano. ‘I guess it finally gave me the rumble I wasn’t prepared for. And, as I always feared, I have no answer. Why don’t you despise me, run a mile, kick me out of your life?’

‘Because without you I’d get bored,’ she said, with a note of their old teasing. ‘And, when our child asks where Daddy is, what do I tell her?’

‘Say you chucked him out with the rest of the rubbish. Or you might recycle me into a sensible man.’

‘Then how would I know it was you?’ she asked with a hint of a chuckle.

‘And what’s this her business? Since when did she become a girl?’

‘I’ve decided it’s going to be a girl. We’re better at being practical.’

He cocked a humorous eyebrow. ‘I need another woman nagging me?’

‘That’s definitely what you need. Hope and I aren’t enough. It’s a task for three.’

Then her smile faded as she saw something on a nearby table and reached out for it. ‘That’s one of the pictures you took of me when I first came here.’

‘We went to the consulate to get you a new passport,’ he recalled.

‘But how do you come to have it? I never did remember to give them to you.’

‘No, and I raided your computer for them. This was the best, so I printed it out to keep.’ He stopped and watched her for a moment, remembering. ‘I’d never loved you as much as I did then. That previous night, I came to the edge of telling you everything.

‘I backed off at the last minute, but when I went through those pictures and saw how you looked at me I knew I had to tell you, because you were the only person I could ever trust with the truth. Suddenly it was all clear, and I knew I could tell you everything.’

‘Oh no,’ she whispered, dropping her head into her hands. ‘And then you found that folder and realised I’d betrayed you. No wonder you were so terribly hurt.’

‘You didn’t betray me. I’ve known that for a long time, but I was in such a state of confusion that I couldn’t wait to be rid of you. You made me think, and I didn’t want to think. It was only after you’d gone that I realised what I’d done-chosen safety and predictability over life. I kept that picture with me to remind myself what I’d lost.’

‘But why didn’t you call me and ask me to come back?’ she asked.

‘Because I thought I had nothing to offer you, and you were better without me.’

‘That will never be true. I want you with me all my life.’

‘If only…’ he said longingly.

‘My love, I know what I’m asking of you is hard, but do it for me. Do it for us.’

Without speaking, he slipped to his knees and laid his face against her, his hand gently touching her stomach. Ferne caressed him, also in silence. Nothing more was needed. He had given his answer.

Hope was in ecstasies as they reached the villa that evening, greeting them both, but especially Ferne, with open arms.

‘Welcome to the family,’ she said. ‘Oh yes, you’re a Rinucci now. You’re going to have a Rinucci baby, and that makes you one of us.’

Ferne couldn’t help smiling at the way she’d been taken over. Then Hope went even further.

‘I’m so looking forward to another grandchild,’ she said blissfully.

‘But Dante isn’t actually your son, is he?’ Ferne said, startled.

‘Oh, son, nephew, what does it matter? He’s a Rinucci, and now so are you.’

Next day, she took over the preparations for Dante’s tests, telephoning a contact at the local hospital. He moved fast, and Dante was admitted that day for a lumbar puncture and a CT scan. From behind a window, Ferne watched as he prepared for the scan; he kept his eyes on them until the last minute, as he was swallowed up in the huge machine.

After that the minutes seemed to go at a crawl until they were given the results. During that endless time, Ferne realised that she had always known what the truth would be.

‘The tests show that you’ve already had one mild rupture quite recently,’ the doctor said. ‘You were lucky. You came through it. You might even go on being lucky. Or you could have a major rupture in a few weeks and possibly die.’

Dante didn’t reply, but sat in terrible stillness, as though already dead. After a lifetime of avoiding this moment, he was forced to confront it.

‘But surgery can make it all right?’ Ferne’s voice was almost pleading.

‘I wish I could say that it was as simple as that,’ the doctor replied. ‘The operation is very difficult, and there’s a high death-rate. But if he goes into a coma first then the rate is even higher.’ He addressed Dante directly. ‘Your best chance is to have it now before things get worse.’

Dante had been sitting with head sunk in hands. Now he looked up.

‘And if I live,’ he said, ‘can you guarantee that I’ll still be mentally normal?’ He choked into silence.

Gravely the doctor shook his head.

‘There’s always a chance of complications,’ he said. ‘I wish I could give you a guarantee, but I can’t.’

He walked out, leaving them alone, holding each other in silence. After all the dancing with fate, all the arguments, there was only the bleak reality left. With the operation or without it, the possibility of death was high. And, with it, there was a real chance of something Dante considered far worse.

Why should he choose to walk into the unknown? Ferne knew that there was only their love to make the risk worthwhile, but was that enough? Now he was really dancing to the edge of the abyss, but not with fate, with herself, trusting her to stop him plunging over. But even she had no power to do that.

At that moment she would not have blamed him for walking away.

‘What am I going to do?’ he asked desperately. ‘Once I would have said that dying didn’t worry me, and it would have been true. But now there’s you-and her.’ He pointed downwards, and a wry smile twisted his mouth. ‘Who’d have thought that having something to live for could be so scary?’

She waited for him to say more. The only words that mattered would come from him.

‘I’ve used my illness as a way of avoiding responsibility,’ he said after a while. ‘I didn’t see it like that at the time. I thought I was doing the sensible thing. Now it just looks like a form of cowardice. My whole life has been a sham because I couldn’t face the reality.’

He looked at her in agony, whispering fiercely, ‘Where do you get your courage? Can’t you give some to me? Because I don’t have any. Part of me still says just walk away and let it happen as it will.’

‘No!’ she said fiercely. ‘I need you with me. You’ve got to take every chance of staying alive.’

‘Even if it means becoming like Leo? That scares me more than dying.’

She drew back and looked into his face.

‘Listen to me. You ask me to give you courage, but can’t you understand that I need you to give me courage?’

‘Me? A clown, a chancer?’

‘Yes, a clown, because I need you and your silly jokes to shield me from the rest of the world. I need you to make fun of me and trip me up, and take me by surprise and get the world in proportion for me. You made me strong and whole, so that now I need to be able to reach out and hold your hand for my protection, not yours.’

He searched her face intently, trying to discern the answer to mysteries. At last he seemed to find what he needed, for he drew her close, resting his head on her shoulder.

‘I’ll do whatever you wish,’ he said. ‘Only promise to be there.’