The Pregnancy Bond

CHAPTER FOUR

KELLY had approached college prepared to discover that her brain was rusty, and she’d been fooling herself for years. Instead she found the course fascinating and easy to follow. The tutors praised her work and she was popular with them and her fellow students. In many ways this was the ideal college life of her dreams.

The only fly in the ointment was the need to work to make ends meet. She’d taken a bank loan to cover most of the fees, and worked three evenings a week in a small café. It was proving more tiring than she’d thought. At the end of the day she longed to return to her little home instead of spending the evening inhaling greasy odours and being rushed off her feet.

Perhaps she should have taken up Jake’s offer of financial help so that she could leave the job and never again have to smell cooking oil, which was making her nauseous these days. Working at the café hadn’t been so terrible before, but meeting Jake again seemed to have left her in a strange mood. Her normally equable temper had been replaced by an irritability that could flare into annoyance without warning.

She’d heard no more from him after he’d rushed away that morning, and she was glad of that because it made it easier to draw a line under the business. Once more for old times’ sake, and no sentimentality on either side.

But it wasn’t that easy. What had happened between them in her bed had felt less like a goodbye than a hello. That was how people enjoyed each other at the start of something, seeking out and conquering new territory, putting down markers for the future. It was absurd to make love like that at the end.

Absurd. Cling to the thought. Laughable. Ridiculous. Idiotic. Words like that would help deaden what threatened to be an ache in her breast.

She knew that Jake had returned from wherever he’d dashed off to because she’d opened a newspaper to see a photograph of him, leaving a glamorous media party. Olympia was on his arm, smiling and looking impossibly gorgeous. Apart from that, if she wanted to see him she watched the television news, which was pretty much what she’d been doing for the last few years.

One evening she was just catching up with the headlines before going to bed, and there he was, looking out of the screen, while a voice-over intoned, ‘Jake Lindley talks to us, live, from war-torn-’

Kelly yawned sleepily, not hearing the rest. Wherever Jake was reporting from, it was fairly sure to be ‘war-torn’. He’d always been happiest in the thick of the action, and she’d sat at home terrified for him, and keeping her worries to herself when he returned. It bored him to talk about dangers he regarded as nonexistent.

‘It’s all hype, darling,’ he’d often said. ‘I never actually get hurt, do I?’

And it was true, he didn’t. It was pleasant not to have to worry because he was nothing to do with her any more.

She had to admit that he looked good on camera, his bronzed skin suggesting a man of action, and his shaggy hair slightly lifted by the breeze as he made his report in a brisk voice.

‘Tonight the two sides seem as far apart as ever-accusations-fierce denials-nobody quite knows-’

She barely heard. All her attention was fixed on Jake’s face. When had that little frownline appeared between his eyes? She tried to remember if it had been there last time, but his face as it had been then refused to come into focus. There were too many impressions pulling in different directions.

‘The sound of gunfire never ceases-there behind me, and all around-’

Jake’s voice stopped suddenly and Kelly came out of her reverie to realise that he’d vanished from the screen. The camera was swinging around wildly, somebody was shouting, and there was Jake on the ground, with people running towards him and an ugly red stain seeping between his fingers, which were clutched to his stomach. Only then did she realise that he’d been shot.

He was still talking to camera, and incredibly managed a painful smile. ‘I guess they were closer than I realised-’ He went on talking, grimacing with pain as people lifted him and raced away from the gunfire, refusing to stop doing his job, until he fainted.

The broadcast returned to the studio. Nobody seemed to know exactly what had happened. Kelly could have screamed.

She snatched up the phone, then dropped it again. She was no longer Jake’s wife, and had no more right to information than anyone else. But she could feel her whole body going cold with shock as she stared at the set, willing it to tell her something.

She tried the text pages, but the broadcast had been live and it was too soon for anything to be posted. She changed channels, hoping one of the others had picked it up. For an hour she sat there, flicking from place to place, feeling as though she was going mad.

When she couldn’t stand it any longer she dialled the studio and asked for Dave Hadway, who worked in the newsroom and whom she knew slightly. But Dave had left the company, and instead Kelly found herself talking to Olympia Statton.

‘This is Kelly,’ she said, forcing herself to speak calmly. ‘Is there any news of Jake?’

‘He’s been taken to the local hospital out there,’ Olympia said.

‘How bad is it?’

‘I’m sorry, we’re not releasing that information to the public.’

Kelly lost her temper. ‘What do you mean, “the public”?’ she raged. ‘I used to be married to him, as you very well know.’

‘I do indeed, but you went your separate ways,’ came Olympia’s self-satisfied voice. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Harmon, I’m afraid I can only discuss Jake’s condition with his family.’

‘But he has no family,’ Kelly cried.

‘He has people who care for him.’ The line clicked dead.

Kelly replaced the receiver forcefully. Then she did something she’d never done before in the whole of her well-regulated life. She picked up a vase and hurled it at the far wall with all the force she could manage. It disintegrated into a hundred pieces. Cleaning them up gave her something to do.

She sat up into the small hours, gathering crumbs of information from the television. The shooting was shown again and again. She watched it obsessively. There was Jake, standing so assured before the camera, and she wanted to seize him and keep him safe. But she never could, and he always fell to the ground, still gamely talking.

As the night wore on she learned that although the terrain was remote the local hospital was efficient and had managed to stabilise Jake, but his condition was still critical. Still in front of the set, she fell asleep from exhaustion, and awoke to find the morning half over.

The central heating had gone off and she was stiff and cold, with an aching head that swam as she forced herself out of the chair. She sat down again at once, and stayed there until the world had settled back into place. When it was safe to move she rose and put on the heating, then staggered into the kitchen to make herself some hot tea. She needed food inside her after that upsetting night, she decided. But after cooking eggs and bacon she threw it away, untasted. She couldn’t face grease. In fact she couldn’t face anything until she knew that Jake was safe.

She sank back into the chair, castigating herself for her weak will. What had happened to independence and putting him behind her? All gone for nothing, because he was hurt.

And something else bothered her. Olympia had called her ‘Miss Harmon’. She not only knew that Kelly had resumed her maiden name, but she also knew what it was. And only one person could have told her. Kelly reckoned that said it all.

The next day a flying ambulance conveyed Jake out of the country where he’d been wounded and to the nearest large hospital, in southern Italy, for an operation to remove the bullet. After that there was silence, and Kelly was forced to assume that no news was good news.

Now her life was lived permanently on the rack. She tried some mutual friends, but they knew little more than she did herself. The only information came from Olympia, who gave an interview to a tabloid newspaper called, Jake Lindley, the man I know. The resulting piece put Olympia firmly in the spotlight, while hinting at the depth of her relationship with Jake, who, she was quick to state, had recently divorced. The only thing missing was an announcement of their coming wedding. Kelly wondered if they would dispense with that, since they were clearly lovers already.

Finally Kelly struck lucky with a fellow journalist, who told her Jake had called him and asked for some books to be brought to the London hospital where he would arrive at the end of the week. He was out of danger now, and was being sent home to complete his recovery.

Kelly knew the hospital, which was only a few miles from where she lived. It was unnerving to have Jake so close and yet know nothing about him. She tried telephoning but found that all calls were being diverted to the television company’s press office.

Well, it was none of her business anyway. They’d said goodbye, and that was it. Kelly told herself that very firmly, and was still telling herself as she set out, one afternoon, for the hospital.

As she entered its doors she was expecting a rough passage, but her luck was in. The young woman on the desk beamed at the sight of her.

‘Don’t tell me, let me guess,’ she said. ‘Jake Lindley. You’re his wife. I saw you on the telly last year. You were sitting next to him when he collected that award for “TV newsman of the year”. It is you, isn’t it? I mean, your hair’s different, but-’

‘Yes, it’s me,’ Kelly said. ‘But we’re divorced now.’

‘I know. I read it in the paper. I don’t like that other one. She swans in here like Lady Muck, laying down the law.’ She became conspiratorial. ‘Third floor. Room 303.’

‘Thank you,’ Kelly said fervently, and sped off before anyone could stop her.

On the third floor she almost lost her nerve. Olympia would be there, comforting and beautiful at the bedside. Jake’s ex-wife would be an unwelcome intruder. Then she set her jaw. If her presence embarrassed Jake she would leave, but she wasn’t going without seeing him. She reached Room 303, took a deep breath, and quietly opened the door.

At first glance the room was a riot of cheerfulness. There were cards everywhere, some with funny pictures, some depicting flowers. There were real flowers too, of all kinds, with a large bouquet of red roses claiming centre stage. No prize for guessing who’d sent those, Kelly thought.

But after the first moment her impression of gaiety died, partly because the room was eerily quiet. A man lay on the pillows, staring blankly ahead. There were no books on the bed, or anywhere near him. No radio or television broke the silence, and he seemed engulfed in a weariness so profound that it had blotted out the world. No way was this Jake, who was never happy unless active.

Then he turned his head, and Kelly drew in her breath. It was Jake, yet not Jake. Suddenly she remembered the last time she’d seen his face on a pillow, gazing up at her naked body, his eyes alight with appreciation, devilment and shock. Now he had the dreary greyish pallor of someone who’d come too close to death. His cheeks were sunk, his eyes lifeless, and he looked as if he was on the edge of despair.

How could a man change so much in a short time? she thought wildly. Let him get well! She would give anything if only he could be himself again.

She waited for the smile of recognition, but the sight of her produced no gleam, and for a dreadful moment she was afraid his mind had been affected. But then he said very quietly, ‘Is it you?’

She hurried forward to the side of the bed, leaning over him. ‘Yes, it’s me. Jake, do you know me?’

At that he gave a faint smile. ‘Don’t worry. It was my stomach they caught, not my head. I’m no crazier now than I always was. It’s good to see you, Kelly. I was sure you’d come.’

The simple statement shocked her. She should have been here long ago.

She pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, taking his hand in hers, horrified at how thin it felt.

‘I’d have been here sooner but you’re a hard man to reach these days. I only got this far because the receptionist downstairs saw us together on TV. Will Olympia walk in on us, trailing photographers?’

He gave a slight grin. ‘You read that piece? Hilarious, wasn’t it? I don’t blame her for grabbing a little publicity. She’s on her way to the top.’

And Jake admired people who did that, she remembered. ‘High-octane lives’, he’d called them, summing up a world of glamour, excitement and above all, achievement. Kelly knew that she could never be called high-octane. She doubted that she was even two-star.

‘She won’t be here today,’ Jake went on. ‘She’s away on a management course.’

Obviously producing wasn’t going to be good enough for Olympia Statton. She was aiming for executive status, head of a news-gathering empire, with Jake Lindley as her anchor man.

‘I expect you’re dying to get back to work,’ she said.

‘Why do you say that?’

‘You were always the world’s worst patient, getting out of bed long before you should.’

‘They encourage me to get out of bed for a while each day. The problem is walking. They got me one of those supports old people use. I said “No way, I can walk by myself.” But when I tried I wobbled and had to be saved by a nurse who was half my size. And Dr Ainsley, who’s a great surgeon but has the bedside manner of a piranha said, “I told you so. Now stop acting the giddy fool!” So I did.’

‘You don’t mean you’ve found someone who can talk some sense into you?’ she said with a tender smile.

‘Didn’t have any choice. My legs were giving way under me. It cured me of rushing things.’

The despondency in his voice made her ask sympathetically, ‘Feeling out of it?’

‘A bit. Olympia calls me on the phone, just to keep me in touch with what’s going on-’

‘Jake, you don’t have to explain to me,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Your private life is your own.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he said after a moment, and withdrew his hand from hers, leaving her with the sad sensation of having snubbed a man who couldn’t take it. And again the thought ran through her head. This is Jake?

‘You’re not short of well-wishers,’ she said, indicating the cards.

‘No, the guys at the studio send me rude cards almost every day. Trouble is, some of them are really funny and I’m not allowed to laugh. And I get cards from the public. I try to write back but-’ He shrugged.

She noticed the pile of unopened mail by his bed. One letter lay half in and half out of the envelope, as though he’d starting opening it and lost interest.

He made a sudden resolute movement, pushing back the bedclothes. ‘Let’s get out of here. I’ll buy you some tea and cakes in the café.’

‘Are you supposed to do that?’

‘Sure. Gentle exercise-whatever that means-is good for me. I’ve been up already today, but I got tired and went back to bed.’

Her unease increased. How often had they argued because he’d refused to admit he was ill? She would have enjoyed nursing him, but her attempts had irked him! ‘Molly-coddling’, he’d called it. Now he sat, wryly acquiescent, as she helped him on with his dressing gown, and actually asked her to fit his slippers on his feet, as leaning down was difficult for him.

She looked around for his walker, but could see only a wheelchair. ‘This?’

‘Stuff that!’ he said, showing a flash of the old Jake. ‘I can walk now.’

He slipped his arm through hers and they set off. How thin he was! He’d never carried any spare flesh, but now she could feel the bones of his arm against her. Not just thin, she thought with horror. Frail.

He talked cheerfully about Dr Ainsley, making him sound all kinds of a dragon. But despite his brave air she could feel him flagging. The café was some distance away, and he was obviously glad when they reached it and he could sit down while she went to the self-service counter.

‘What are you allowed to eat?’ she asked.

‘Not much. For a long time I was fed through tubes. Now I’m allowed baby food, mostly liquid. You could get me a banana milk shake now, and maybe a strawberry one later.’

‘Just banana and strawberry milk shake?’ she echoed, aghast, remembering his cavalier way with a whisky and soda.

‘No, I’m allowed chocolate milk shake as well, and even ice cream if I’m feeling adventurous. Life is full of variety around here.’ He grinned, looking more like his normal self.

When Kelly returned from the counter Jake was flirting with a pretty waitress. The sight cheered her up.

She had a milk shake too, to keep him company, and as they sat sipping through straws he said wryly, ‘We look like a couple of high-school kids.’

‘If you go back a while. High-school kids don’t drink milk shakes any more.’

‘True. But we did, once. You were seventeen, but you looked younger, so it had to be a milk bar.’

‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed as it came back to her. ‘I’d taken an exam and you were waiting outside the school gates.’ She chuckled suddenly.

‘What?’

‘You asked how the exam had gone. You were only being polite, but I was on such a high that I bent your ear for half an hour about how brilliantly I’d done. Then I looked at you suddenly and you were glassy-eyed with boredom.’

‘Not boredom. I admit I was barely listening, but I was thinking how pretty you were.’

‘And I thought how grown-up you were, until you made a gurgling noise with your straw,’ she remembered.

‘Like this?’

He’d reached the end of the glass and he noisily sucked up the last bubbles through the straw. She immediately did the same, and he grinned. Then something caught his attention over her shoulder. Kelly turned to see a tall man standing in the door, scanning the room until he saw Jake. The next moment he was making his way towards them.

‘I looked into your room and you weren’t there,’ he said. ‘I hoped I’d find you here.’

‘Kelly, this is Dr Ainsley,’ Jake said, and she reached up to shake hands.

She was trying to equate this pleasant-faced man in his forties with the dragon of Jake’s description. Dr Ainsley had a stubborn chin but genial eyes.

‘I’ve heard all about you,’ he said cheerfully, engulfing her hand. ‘Anna, on Reception, spread it through the building as soon as you’d left the front desk.’

‘Ah,’ she said, non-committally, wishing she knew exactly what Anna had said.

‘Let me get you a coffee,’ Jake offered.

‘I’ll get it,’ Kelly said at once, but Dr Ainsley laid his hand on her arm.

‘Let him,’ he said. ‘It’ll do him good to move about.’

When Jake was out of earshot the doctor said quickly, ‘I wanted to talk to you alone.’

‘How is he, really?’

‘He’s recovering, but not as fast as he should. It’s as though he can’t rouse himself to make the effort.’

‘But he’s always been so strong and confident, so-so macho.’

‘They can be the worst. The more a man is used to being in control, the harder it hits him when he’s in a situation he can’t control. Psychologically he’s in deep shock at discovering that he can’t just make this go away by will-power.’

‘He told me how he tried to walk alone too soon.’

‘That was the turning point. Until then he’d managed to convince himself that he could get well to his own timetable. When he discovered that he was wrong it hit him very hard. He’s going to need careful looking after.’

The significant way he was regarding her made Kelly say hastily, ‘Dr Ainsley, I’m not married to Jake any more.’

His face fell. ‘But I thought-I must have got it wrong.’

‘We were divorced a few weeks ago. If we were still married, do you think I’d have waited this long to come?’

‘Of course not. I’m sorry.’

‘Jake’s in my past.’

‘But you’re here.’

‘Caring for him is a habit that’s hard to break. Just not in that way.’

‘I gather he doesn’t have any other family.’

Kelly shook her head. ‘No brothers or sisters, and his parents are dead. And since neither of them had siblings either, he’s got nobody.’

‘Except you.’

‘And Olympia Statton.’

‘Ah yes! Glamorous blonde, all furs, teeth and la-di-dah?’

Kelly choked with delight at this put-down of Olympia. ‘That’s her.’

‘She’s been in once or twice, carefully timed for when the cameras were there. Then she complains about “press intrusion”. She’s not exactly chaining herself to his bed. Anyway, what Jake needs now isn’t a lover, it’s a mother or a sister.’

‘All right, I’ll come in as often as I can.’

Jake had returned with the coffee. He looked drawn, as though the short trip had been too much for him.

‘You shouldn’t have done it after walking here,’ Kelly said, concerned.

‘I’m all right,’ he said irritably, then quickly, ‘Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to snap.’

It was almost as though he needed to placate her, she thought, shocked. During their marriage he’d often apologised for some piece of thoughtlessness, but never as though he was actually afraid to offend her. But before she could reassure him he made a sound of annoyance with himself.

‘I forgot the spoon.’

‘I’ll get it,’ Kelly said, rising and putting a restraining hand on his shoulder.

‘I’m perfectly capable-’

‘No, you’re not, so shut up!’ she told him firmly.

He didn’t argue further, and there was a touch of gratitude in his grin.

She fetched the spoon and returned to the table, but just as she was sitting down everything seemed to retreat from her. She reached out quickly and just managed to sit down before she fell.

‘What is it?’ Jake asked anxiously.

‘Nothing, I-’ Kelly covered her eyes because the room was swimming.

‘Don’t say nothing. I thought you were going to faint.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ she said, pulling herself together. ‘I’m just a bit tired these days.’

‘Well, if you will insist on working in a café as well as going to college-’

‘Yes, I expect it’s that,’ she said, trying to sound cheerful through the waves of nausea.

Jake studied her face, concerned. ‘I don’t like it. You’re a funny colour, isn’t she, doc?’

‘Not really,’ Dr Ainsley said with a shrug. ‘It’s the strip lighting. It makes everyone look pretty ghastly.’

Which was remarkably unperceptive of him, Kelly thought, because she felt terrible.

‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ she said hurriedly, and made a dash for it.

There was a ladies’ room nearby, but by the time she reached it the nausea was already passing. She found a chair and leaned miserably back against the wall, until she felt well enough to move. When she went out the two men were waiting for her.

‘Are you all right?’ Jake asked.

‘She’s fine,’ Dr Ainsley said. ‘Look, her colour’s better already. It’s you I’m worried about. Let’s get you back to bed.’

He commandeered a wheelchair and came back to the ward with them. There he said briefly to Kelly, ‘Not more than five minutes,’ and departed.

‘Give that job up,’ Jake said, as he climbed carefully into bed. ‘I know what you said before, but we’re not enemies, are we?’

‘Would I be here today if we were?’

‘Then let me help you, even if it’s just a loan-’

‘I’ll come in tomorrow and we’ll talk about it then,’ she said. Just now she felt she had to get away to think.

‘Tomorrow, then,’ he agreed. He suddenly tightened his hand on hers. ‘You will come, won’t you?’

‘Promise.’

After a moment’s hesitation she kissed his cheek and hurried away.

In the corridor outside, Dr Ainsley was waiting for her.

‘I think we should talk,’ he said.