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Loving Eleanor by Natasha Oakley
[Hi , this is my first attempt so i hope you like it
Loving Eleanor[CENTER] by Natasha Oakley Luke and Susanna Burnett have been married for fifteen months — thirteen of which have been spent at their baby daughter's bedside. Born prematurely with a condition called Necrotising Enterocolitis, baby Eleanor has spent the majority of her short life in hospital. While Susanna keeps vigil at their daughter's bedside, Luke deals with his anguish and concern differently, going off to work, barely showing any emotion. His actions convince Susanna even more that Luke only married her because she was pregnant — not because he was in love with her. Now, desperately in need of a liver transplant, it seems Eleanor has lost her fight for life. Luke and Susanna wait the agonizing hours together while the search for a donor goes on…but in the tumult of their grief, they realize there is more to their relationship than they ever imagined[/CENTER]. |
Chapter one
Luke Burnett lay flat out on the sand, one arm shading his eyes from the sun. Susanna rolled over and looked at him. He was so sexy. So perfect. And hers. .In two days they'd be married. A lifetime ahead of them. A bubble of pure happiness seemed lodged in the middle of her chest. His arm moved and his sinful blue eyes opened and glinted across at her. She stirred. "Where are you going?" "Nowhere." He moved swiftly, pinning her beneath him. "I should think not." And then he kissed her. "I'd miss you." Susanna reached up and smoothed his dark hair back from his forehead. "Would you? And the baby?" His mouth twisted into the kind of smile that turned her bones to liquid. "What do you think?" And then he was kissing her again…and she couldn't think. Her fingers curled into his dark hair and she forgot about everything except how much she loved him. How much she wanted to be with him. For a few blissful hours while she slept, everything in Susanna's world had been perfect…but now she was back in reality. She opened her eyes and felt the familiar sense of despair return. As it always did. Day after day. Eleanor was dying. Her little girl. Her baby. The knowledge thumped through her head with each beat of her heart and every morning it was the same. While she slept she had a few hours respite. A brief interlude where she could make-believe she had a life like any other mother of a thirteen-month-old little girl. But it was make-believe and, in many ways it made it worse when she woke. As soon as she opened her eyes the bleakness closed in around her with fresh impact. She was back in a long dark tunnel that stretched out endlessly before her without the slightest glimmer of daylight. Today would be like yesterday…and tomorrow like today. She would sit beside Eleanor's tiny bed and try to ignore the tubes that connected her daughter to the ventilator that kept her alive. She would reach out and hold the perfectly formed little hand and pray. Susanna rubbed at her eyes trying to erase the spike of pain that had settled in the centre of her forehead. Necrotising Enterocolitis. Before Eleanor was born she hadn't known such a condition existed. Now she couldn't imagine a day where she didn't think those two words and understand exactly what they meant to her daughter. They were a death sentence. Probably. Susanna rolled over and looked at the luminous hands on her alarm clock. There was never any need to set it. She woke with depressing regularity in the early hours of the morning. "What time is it?" Luke asked beside her, his voice heavy with sleep. "Just after three." She heard the slow exhale of breath, his determination to keep calm. "I'm sorry I woke you." She was always sorry she woke him. There was nothing she'd like better than to be able to sleep through until morning. But… She rolled out of bed and padded across to her dressing gown, wrapping the long robe around her body. "What time did you say it was?" Susanna looked over her shoulder. "Just after three. I'm going to make a cup of tea. Do you want one?" She watched him struggle to sit up. "Susanna, come back to bed. Get some sleep." They'd played this scene out over and over. She knew it irritated him but she couldn't just lie there. The thought of Eleanor, so many miles away, tenaciously fighting for her life, crowded in on her. It made her restless. "I'll sleep better after I've had a hot drink." Which was a lie. She never slept better. Susanna watched the lines furrow his forehead and turned away not wanting to hear anything else he had to say. "Susanna —" "I'll be fine." She pulled tight the final knot in her dressing-gown sash. "Go back to sleep." Luke pushed back the duvet and she caught a glimpse of the athletic physique that had first attracted her. It seemed a lifetime ago now. So much had happened since then; it hardly seemed worth remembering. Their marriage had never stood a chance. "I'll have a cup of tea." "What?" He reached out and picked up his own dressing gown from the rail of the footboard. "If you're making tea, I'll have some." Susanna looked across at him, shocked. This wasn't the way they played this game. He never said "yes." He always rolled over in the pale blue covered duvet and went back to sleep. "I could bring it up." She saw the faint shake of his head. "Put the kettle on. I'll come down." It amazed her how much she resented him joining her. This was her private time. A time she desperately needed. She was used to the steady tick of the clock, the creak of the floorboards and the sense of peace. In the quiet of the night she always felt she could think. She could remember everything about Eleanor's short life, from her traumatic birth at twenty-eight weeks to the severe liver failure that threatened her now. In the morning she would need to be strong. Every atom in her body focused on willing their daughter to live. She needed the night to grieve. "Okay." It didn't seem worth arguing. Luke would do what he wanted to do — he always did. Susanna hit the landing switch and let the harsh light illuminate the sweeping mahogany staircase. Her bare feet were silent on the thick carpet as she made her way downstairs. Luke Burnett had been all she'd ever wanted. She'd idolized him since she'd been fourteen. Loved him since her eighteenth birthday party. It was strange, now, to know there was such a chasm between them. Such a gaping hole that now she even resented his company. Luke had been the golden boy. Handsome, clever and rich. He'd succeeded at anything and everything he'd turned his hand to. And he'd married her. She'd thought she'd struck gold. That some mythical fairy had sprinkled some stardust and answered her secret dreams. Luke…and a baby. Their baby. How good could it get? She'd built such dreams around the birth of their first child. The first of three, maybe four. She'd hoped. Every foolish daydream mocked her now. She'd skipped into this nightmare, never dreaming of what lay in store for them. Susanna filled the kettle. "How long have you been awake?" Luke asked, his hair tousled and his face sleepy in the kitchen doorway. "Not long." The silence stretched out between them, awkward and uncomfortable. Luke walked farther into the room, resting his hand on the granite worktop. "Did Dr. Lane say anything about the search for a suitable liver donor when you spoke to her yesterday?" "No." Susanna reached for the teapot. She'd been told what she already knew — that her daughter was a very sick little girl. With infinite care, Susanna knew she was being prepared for the day when they would tell her Eleanor had died. She knew, without a transplant, it couldn't be long. Day after day, sitting beside Eleanor, with a tiny pink teddy bear she was too ill to notice tucked in at her daughter's side. White tubes pushed up her daughter's nostrils and another taped to her mouth. How could she not know? "No progress at all?" "No." She poured in the boiling water. "I wondered if she'd said something that…upset you?" "No." There was nothing the doctor could say that would upset her more than the fears already existing in her head. Nothing worse than sitting beside Eleanor, her little face swollen and yellow and her life hanging by a thread. Susanna turned in time to see Luke rub a hand against the back of his neck. Just fifteen months after they'd married each other and there was really nothing left to say. It was as though they'd each become locked inside separate worlds and there was no bridging it. But then Eleanor was all there'd ever been that had connected them. Once Susanna might have tried to convince herself differently, but deep down she knew. Luke would never have married a girl like her if she hadn't been pregnant with his baby. In the handful of months they'd had together before Eleanor's birth, he'd been incredible. Her knight in shining armor. Everything a husband should be. There was just one thing missing… He didn't love her. Had never loved her |
Chapter two
During their short engagement and the early weeks of their marriage, Susanna had allowed herself to hope Luke loved her. He was so passionate and exciting. She'd told herself no one got married for the sake of a baby, anymore. She'd tried to imagine the night they'd created Eleanor was the result of a mutual and overwhelming desire. Something magical. But you could only go on lying to yourself for so long. He'd never once said he loved her. Not on their wedding day. Or during Eleanor's premature birth. Not even when they'd first heard the words Necrotising Enterocolitis. He'd married her because she was pregnant with his baby. Because he was too good a man to leave her to cope with the consequences alone. Deep down she'd always known that, from the very beginning when he'd slipped the wedding band on her finger. But she'd hoped and dreamed of the day when he'd realize he'd loved her all along. Only that hadn't happened. Instead, they'd been locked into the nightmare of Eleanor's illness, a huge wedge between them. Susanna lifted the lid of the teapot and stirred the *******s, acutely aware of Luke watching her. "I think I'll pack a bag and stay at the hospital for the next few nights." Luke's fingers moved on the worktop. "You're supposed to be getting some rest." She shrugged. "I find it easier if I can see her." "Susanna, she's getting the best possible care. She's — " "In the best place. I know." It was what everyone said, but she didn't believe that. The best place would be home with her, well and happy. At thirteen months, she should be getting into everything, starting to walk, making sounds they could both pretend were words… Susanna focused all her attention on what she was doing. She poured the milk into two cobalt blue mugs and carefully added the tea. "You'll be ill yourself if you don't pace yourself." Susanna wanted to scream at him that he didn't understand. That her world had shrunk to the hospital where Eleanor spent her days tied to a ventilator, whereas he still spent his in the outside world pursuing a lucrative career as an investment banker. It was only on evenings and weekends that he touched the agony that was her day-to-day existence. She said nothing. Instead, her fingers closed around her warm mug and she sipped the hot tea. "You could get more involved in the campaign to try and find a donor," Luke suggested, reaching out for his own drink. "Do something practical. The local paper is going to run a story on Eleanor and the hope is it'll be picked up by the nationals. They want to print a few pictures —" "No." The word shot from her mouth. Luke looked across at her. "What do you mean?" "I don't want Eleanor's face plastered all over the paper. I don't want people seeing all the tubes and…" She covered her face with a hand and tried to fight back the tears. Luke watched helplessly. He understood what Susanna was really saying — that she didn't want Eleanor to be ill. But she was…and the best chance, the only chance, Eleanor had was for a liver donor to be found. "It's an excellent opportunity," he said carefully. "I contacted them last week and I had a phone call yesterday from one of the reporters. I meant to tell you…but you came back from the hospital so late. The idea is to appeal directly to bereaved families. The wider the net, the better our chance of finding a compatible match." She looked up, her eyes rimmed red. "But why do they need photos?" "To make it feel personal. It's a difficult decision for anyone to make, and they have to make it at an impossible time." Luke had struggled with that thought himself. For Eleanor to live, someone else would have had to have died. Another man's child. But he was desperate. His love for his daughter meant that he'd do anything. Ask anything. He'd happily donate his own liver if it would mean Eleanor could live. What he couldn't cope with was standing helplessly by, watching her fade away. He hated the feeling of powerlessness, of events being so far outside his control. It was better to focus on the positive, on what could be done, rather than spend hour upon hour, like Susanna did, watching each assisted breath. It was easier, too, not seeing Susanna cry. He hated that. Her face was red and blotchy from tears and lack of sleep. She looked like someone who was merely existing…which he supposed she was. And there was not a damn thing he could do about it. "They want to do a real 'tug on the heartstrings' piece. Perhaps, have you looking down at Eleanor?" Susanna's mouth moved in a soundless "no." He reached forward to take hold of her hand, but she pulled it away. She tried to make it look as though she needed it to hold her mug. It didn't fool him. Susanna couldn't cope with him touching her. Not for comfort. Not for anything. Her attention was focused entirely on their daughter. Everyone else had been pushed away and shut out. The only thing that mattered to Susanna was Eleanor. And Eleanor was dying. "They think a headline like Mother's Vigil might reach the parents of potential donors," he continued tonelessly. "Touch their emotions and make them want to bring something good out of their own tragedy." "I — I can't ."Susanna's voice was a whisper but he heard it. "We can talk about it later. I haven't said we'll do it." He drained the last of his tea. "I'm going to try and get some sleep. You?" She shook her head — as he'd known she would. "I'll read down here for a bit." Luke knew she wouldn't. She would curl up in the brown leather armchair and cry. Racking sobs that tore into him and made him hurt with an intensity he hadn't imagined existed. And there was nothing he could do. Not for Eleanor. Not for Susanna. He set his mug down on the worktop. "I'll leave the landing light on." "Thanks." It was easier to pretend. He watched her turn and carefully place her empty mug in the dishwasher, then his own, and knew she didn't want him to see her face. She'd shut him out. She always shut him out. Her grief was so overwhelming…so all encompassing. She made him feel guilty when he came home and he hadn't thought about Eleanor for several hours. There were moments in his working day when he could forget the lead weight settled in his heart. It wasn't like that for Susanna. Whole swathes of her time were spent at the hospital and when she was prized away her mind was still there. Some days, God help him, it took everything he had not to stay in the car and keep driving. He felt trapped. Angry. For the first time in his life there was nothing he could do that would change things. He could work on raising the profile of organ donation, but it felt like he was chipping away at a mountain. It changed very little. He paused at the doorway, wanting to say something that would help her. "Eleanor's a determined little thing —" "She's dying." He felt like she'd slapped him. "I know." Susanna turned away, her blond hair dull and lifeless. The soft highlights that had streaked her hair when they'd gotten married had grown out and her layers were overlong. It was months of not caring. So different from the bright, vivacious woman he'd married. Not that he'd had much choice. Five months pregnant with his child, he'd felt it was the only thing he could do. Twenty-six years old, midway through a law degree, Susanna had told him the news. She was pregnant and she was keeping the baby. His baby. Her brown eyes had been completely fearless, but he'd known she couldn't have been feeling like that. Both her parents had died, an only child… There'd been no choice. He'd taken a deep breath and asked her to marry him. And then she'd smiled. It had started in her eyes and spread out from there. Her face had lit up as though a light had switched on inside her…and he'd felt great. It wasn't what he'd planned. He hadn't felt ready for marriage or children. But making a final commitment was always going to be difficult and, he'd told himself, it might even be better this way. He hadn't understood what he was doing. "Go to bed, Luke. I'll be fine." She wrapped her arms about her body. "You need to get some sleep if you're going to work tomorrow." "What about you?" Her face twisted. "I'll survive." |
Chapter three
Even if Luke hadn't been called into the hospital, Susanna would have known it was bad news when Dr. Rosemary Lane shut the door of her office. Susanna glanced across at her husband, glad he was with her if only because it meant she wouldn't have to tell him what had been said. .He stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a small muscle pulsing in his cheek. It was the only sign he gave of any sort of inner turmoil. It angered her that he could remain so calm. It made her feel so alone. Her mind was pulsing with fear at what the head of the liver transplant unit might be about to tell them, but when she looked at Luke, she saw…nothing. Just that tiny muscle clench and unclench. "Eleanor is an incredible little girl," Professor Lane said as she sat down. "Mr Burnett…Luke, would you like to take a seat?" Reluctantly, he sat where she indicated. Susanna tried her best to swallow the hard lump that had settled in her throat as she waited for what would come next. "Eleanor's a real fighter…" Susanna heard the scrape of Luke's chair as he pushed it backward, the sound of feet in the corridor outside. "But…I'm afraid she's also one of the sickest children we've seen in the unit for a very long time." Dr. Lane looked from one parent to the other. "The infection she caught two weeks ago has led to a dramatic deterioration in her condition and I think —" she paused again, her voice kind " —I think we're at the stage where we must now consider using a liver from a different blood type." Susanna nodded because she knew it was expected. Her eyes fixed on the other woman's as though they were a lifeline. "Is that possible?" Luke asked beside her. Dr. Lane turned to look at him. "It's possible, but not ideal. As you know, Eleanor's rare AB blood type is only found in approximately two percent of the population and she is running out of time. If successful, a transplant now, albeit using a less-than-perfect match, will keep her alive until a more suitable donor can be found." The words were stark in their simplicity. Susanna felt the explosion in her head, the panic and the screaming fear. Each time, every time, she'd thought she'd heard the worst. It was like facing the sea, with wave after wave crashing down upon her. Unstoppable. Luke cleared his throat. "There doesn't seem to be any choice." "Very little," Professor Lane agreed. "We need a donor very quickly. Eleanor is struggling to stay alive. Every day we wait is a risk." "What are the chances of one being found in time?" Susanna sat in numbed shock. All she'd really heard was the fact that her baby was running out of time. She'd known that, but hearing the words sent ice coursing through her veins. Then she felt the pain. Long fingers gripping her heart and squeezing tight until she thought it would have to stop beating. A shadow passed over Dr. Lane's face. "Parents whose children have just died are naturally reluctant to donate the organs of their loved ones and it's difficult for health professionals to approach them." "So, it's not likely?" Luke's voice sounded overloud in the quiet confines of the small office space. Susanna glanced across at him, but Professor Lane answered calmly, "We have to hope that there are some very special people out there who can use their own tragedy to save Eleanor." Luke sat back in his chair and raised a hand to shield his eyes. "Would you like a cup of tea? A moment together to discuss what I've told you?" A moment together? Susanna didn't know how to answer that. How did other parents manage in a situation like this? Did they cling to each other, united in their grief? Their marriage wasn't like that. Had never been like that. She didn't even know how Luke was really feeling. They didn't talk about things like that. Their conversations were entirely practical. If she cried he turned away. What would it be like now to have Luke hold her? Loving and supportive? Her throat was sore with the effort of not crying, her eyes were smarting and her head ached…and she couldn't tell him how she was feeling. Couldn't tell him because he didn't seem to care. Or didn't want to care. Luke let his hand fall. "We've got to go to the papers. If the story gets taken up by the nationals there's a small chance it will hit someone's doormat at the right time and they'll act with their hearts. Susanna?" Her mind seemed like it was full of fog. She couldn't think quickly. Didn't really understand what he was talking about. "A nationwide appeal would certainly be helpful," Professor Lane said, standing up. "I'll leave you alone to discuss it. Perhaps, you'd like to take a walk together outside in the sunshine? We've a couple of tests we need to run on Eleanor in the next few minutes." Her shoes clicked against the hospital floor and the door shut with a quiet thud. "Susanna?" She turned to look at him, her eyes blind with grief. "I need to call the local paper now. They need to do the story straightaway." His words shot at her like bullets from a gun. There was no escape. She nodded. "Did you hear what I said? We need to do the story now." Susanna stood up and brushed a hand across her eyes. "Whatever." Her arms felt heavy and her legs no longer seemed to want to take her weight. She just wanted the night to close in on her so she could shut all of this out. Every hateful moment. The pain was too much. Far, far too much. Luke caught her as her body swayed, his hands holding her arms and forcing her to look at him. "Susanna, we can do this. Eleanor can do this. Don't give up on her now." His eyes were bright blue, startling against the dark brown of his hair — and strong. Why could he do this and she couldn't? She felt like a shaken rag doll, so punch-drunk she could scarcely stand. Susanna felt the first tear fall, hot against her cheek. "I'm scared," she whispered. His right hand slid up her arm and gently held her face, his thumb stroking away the trail of moisture. "I'm scared, too." His admission surprised her, as did the warm feeling of his fingers against her skin. Susanna ached to curl in against him. Have his strength wrap itself around her. She wanted so much to believe Luke would one day love her. That their marriage might become something beautiful. "E-Eleanor might die." "I know." She heard the tremor in his voice and then felt his arms close around her. Her heart hammered against her chest. Nothing had changed. She still wanted him. Loved him. "Eleanor hasn't lost yet." His fingers threaded through her hair and his hand cradled her head. He hadn't held her for so long. She closed her eyes and let her body relax against his. She'd almost forgotten how wonderful this felt. The subtle scent of a masculine body spray mingled with something that was entirely Luke. The steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers as they rested against his chest. It felt like she was standing in the eye of the storm. Right here, right now, she was at peace. It was a dangerous feeling. He made her feel cared for, loved even — but she knew it had no basis in reality. Luke was a good man, a passionate man, a man who would have loved her if he could. She had to remember that the only reason he was with her was because of Eleanor. And if their daughter died…he would leave her |
Chapter four
Susanna made herself pull away from the comfort of being held by Luke. It would have been easy to let herself rest against his chest, to feel his arms around her and imagine he really wanted to hold her. But, it was an illusion. She knew she'd trapped Luke into this marriage. She hadn't meant to. Her pregnancy had been a shock — even the night Eleanor had been created had been a surprise. She'd loved him for so long…and when he'd kissed her she'd been lost. No part of her mind had thought of anything but how it felt to have his lips on hers, his hands moving over her body. It might have been a sin, it was certainly wrong, but she'd wanted him…whatever the consequences. Eleanor was that consequence. And because he was a fantastic man he stayed. She wasn't a fool. She knew she was his second best. Not the woman he would have chosen. And if Eleanor died…he would be free. Had he thought of that? Susanna turned and brushed away the tears on her face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." "I don't know why!" "I need to be strong for Eleanor." She heard the soft expletive he muttered under his breath. "You are strong for her. You're bloody amazing." He stretched out his hand and she couldn't do anything but hold out her own. His fingers threaded through hers, so dark against the paleness of her skin. "Let's make the call to the newspaper. It might not work, but at least we'll know we tried everything we could." There was no choice. Eleanor's life hung in the balance. "Okay." "We need to go outside. I can't use the cell phone from here." Susanna nodded. He led her out of the office, along the corridors painted in soothing pink and out into a bright May morning. Cocooned inside the hospital walls she'd almost forgotten there was a world outside. Luke let go of her hand and Susanna sat on the nearest bench. Somewhere on the third floor medical staff was seeing to her baby, replacing tubes and giving her injections they didn't want her to see. She watched Luke take his cell phone and a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and then key in the number he had written down. Even hearing just the one side of the conversation, she understood it all. Luke's crisp voice explained Eleanor's condition. He talked about timescales and [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]s. He gave directions to the ward Eleanor was on and agreed to meet a man called Brian in the reception area at three o'clock. As he ended the call, he glanced across at her. "It's settled." Susanna nodded, and knotted her hands together in her lap. "They're coming today. This afternoon." Again she nodded. "Brian Hartman and a woman called Veronica Lewis. She's the photographer." Susanna felt the tears well up behind her eyes and bit down hard on her lip. She'd seen articles like this many times over the years. She'd looked at the pictures of desperately ill children and anguished washed-out women and felt an abstract kind of sympathy. She'd never taken the time to imagine the heartache behind the pictures. And now she was to be the anguished washed-out woman — and Eleanor the child. Luke sat down beside her. His eyes fixed on her profile. "Do you want to get a coffee?" "No." He glanced down at his wristwatch. "We ought to give them a few more minutes with Eleanor before we go back up." Susanna nodded and then turned to look at him. "Do you think she's going to die?" She saw the sudden movement of his throat and watched his eyes skit away. "Luke?" she prompted. He turned back to look at her. "I don't know." "Perhaps, we ought to ring your parents? Ask them to come to the hospital?" Luke shook his head. "I've telephoned them. They know what's going on…but she's our little girl. She needs us." Us. Susanna let the word swirl about her mind. Luke had married her because he believed their child needed a mother and a father. She'd married him because she'd needed him. "Do you remember the day I told you I was expecting Eleanor?" "I remember." His eyes scanned the sky. "What did you really think? Honestly?" Think? He turned back to look at her, trying to understand the question. Think? He wasn't sure he knew what he'd thought. She was pregnant…and it was his baby. Susanna leaned over and picked a single stem of lavender. "I nearly didn't tell you. It didn't seem right, though. To just have your baby and not tell you anything about it." God, no. He swallowed painfully. "What made you change your mind?" "Arlene Peacock. Do you remember her?" He nodded. "She used to help out at the post office on Tuesdays. I felt sick one day and she got me a glass of water. She guessed…" Luke frowned with the effort of trying to understand where his wife was going with this. Her eyes were fixed on a small spot in the distance, her mind far away. "Not about you." She glanced across at him, a wavering smile touching her lips. "Just about the baby. She asked me if I'd told the father." "And you hadn't?" Susanna shook her head, her fingers picking at the lavender. "Would you have preferred not to know?" "Of course not." Or would he? Sometimes, during the past few months he'd thought about what it might have been like if Eleanor hadn't been born. If Susanna hadn't cried that night, when their daughter was conceived… She seemed to read his mind. "I shouldn't have married you." Her eyes turned back to look at the shredded lavender stalk. "I always knew you didn't love me." And he couldn't speak. His mind, usually so sharp, couldn't think of one single intelligent thing to say. "I was wrong to do that to you." Luke swallowed hard. "We made the baby together." "Yes, but I knew I wasn't taking any precautions." "So did I." She shook her head, but then she said, "I was so glad not to have to do the whole baby thing on my own. When you asked me to marry you, I just said yes. I shouldn't have done that." "Susanna —" "No, let me finish." She threw the shorn lavender stalk on the ground and plucked at another. "Whatever happens now with Eleanor…" Her voice wavered. "Let's stop pretending. We made a great little girl, and we love her…" Luke couldn't bear to hear any more. He watched the trembling of her lips and the shimmer that covered her eyes. "This isn't the time —" "I know. I just wanted you to know…well, for you to know that I know you don't love me." And Luke felt like he'd been punched in the solar plexus. Hard — with a fist as solid as a cannonball. |
Chapter five
Luke wanted to find words to reassure Susanna. In an ideal world he would have put his arm around her and told her to stop talking nonsense. Told her that, of course, he loved her. That their marriage wasn't a mistake. But … She wanted him to know that she knew. Simple. Dignified. Just as Susanna always was. She smiled, her eyes honest and brave. "We'd better go back in. Are you coming?" He swallowed. "I-In a moment." For a second he thought she was going to say something else, but she nodded and turned away. His wife. His. The woman who said she knew he'd never loved her. Luke's eyes clouded over as he thought about that. He'd been married to Susanna for fifteen months and he'd never known she'd nearly not told him about Eleanor. He didn't even know why she'd decided to sleep with him that night. The need to be close to someone? Anyone? He didn't know. How was it possible you could share your life with someone and know so little about them? Why hadn't he asked those questions? He'd blithely assumed this was his life. He'd resented it, but he'd never really questioned it. And, there'd seemed to be so much time. Luke glanced up at the third story window where Susanna and Eleanor were. It was all changing now. Eleanor was dying, and Susanna… What? Susanna had chosen the difficult path. She always did. She'd chosen to keep their baby when many other women would have terminated the pregnancy without anyone knowing. She'd brought Eleanor home and given her five special weeks. She'd [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]ved the final year of her degree to care for their baby. She'd told him she knew he didn't love her… Who was she, this woman he'd married? Luke stood up and twisted the wedding ring on the third finger of his left hand. There was so much he wanted to know. How did she feel about him? In the beginning there'd been moments when he'd wondered if she loved him. If she had, he'd done nothing to foster it. And suddenly it mattered. He had to know what he'd thrown away so carelessly. * * * Veronica Lewis, the photographer, knew what she was doing. She waited until Eleanor was sleeping and positioned the small pink teddy bear so its face peaked out of the hospital blanket. "Mrs Bennett, if you would look down at Eleanor. Perhaps, rest your chin on your hands?" Susanna leaned forward on the hospital chair and overlapped her hands. It was all so orchestrated and artificial. Luke hated it. "Can you think about how Eleanor might be feeling now?" He wanted to shove the photographer aside for such a crass remark. He watched the flicker of pain pass over Susanna's face as she schooled her features to give what was wanted. Her chin rested next to the narrow wedding band he'd given her. No engagement ring. There hadn't been time. And he hadn't thought. Had she wanted one? Had she dreamed of a large white wedding with a four-piece band? "That's beautiful. Thank you." Veronica Lewis straightened and looked across at her colleague. "I have everything I need." Brian Hartman nodded and smiled at Luke. "That's it. We'll try and get the pictures in the paper this weekend." "Thank you." "No guarantees, of course, but a human interest story…anything we can do to help," he said, stretching out his hand. Luke went through the motions. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Susanna stand up, her fingers stroking lightly across Eleanor's bare chest. Almost an apology. He saw the dark smudges beneath his wife's eyes, the exhaustion that hung about her frame. Veronica packed away her camera and turned to Susanna. "I hope your little girl pulls through." Susanna's smile wavered, the tears she'd kept back until then slowly formed in her eyes and softly tumbled over. Luke moved. His hand snaked around her waist and he held her tight against his body. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice muffled. "You did great." He felt her shudder and heard the first heartrending sob. Luke gathered her closer. He saw Veronica wave a hand in goodbye, but he kept his arms tightly around his wife. There was nothing more important than this. Her fingers clutched at his shirt and her tears wet the thin cotton fabric. There was nothing he could do but hold her. Every sob, every heartrending gulp, tore into him. He felt so helpless, so…impotent…to do anything. His hand moved through her hair feeling the long blond silkiness and he closed his eyes and prayed. He hadn't prayed since he was a child, but everything seemed so overwhelming. Gradually, her sobs quietened and she stood exhausted in the circle of his arms. Her cheek lay warm against his chest and he felt how right it was she should be there. It had always felt right. The first time, in his parents' home… An amazing, sexy night. Beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. It had felt…cosmic. As though the heavens had shifted and, suddenly, everything was right in his world. Luke rested his chin on the top of her head. What would it have been like if he hadn't left for New York the weekend after? If he'd rung her up and they'd gone out to dinner? Talked? What if… Her body felt warm and soft. He let his fingers move across her back, hoping that she would understand what he was trying to convey, even though he wasn't sure of what it was himself. Susanna sighed and then pulled away, her fingers wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry to cry all over you." "It's been a long time since you have." Her eyes flicked up to his and back to Eleanor. Luke moved closer, his hand resting lightly on Eleanor's crib. "Why?" "Why what?" "Why did you stop crying in front of me?" Susanna looked up, her eyes enormous in her white face. "It was all I was doing." It wasn't the real answer — and she knew it. Luke reached down and stroked the top of Eleanor's head. "I love her, too." She didn't doubt that. Had never doubted it. "I know that." "Then why, Susanna? Why couldn't we have cried together?" She looked up into his face. Luke's eyes were a murky blue, like a troubled sea. He really didn't know. That seemed unbelievable to her. There were so many reasons, but, perhaps, the main one was the shuttered look on his face when he walked through the front door. A masklike control. And she'd never felt so lonely. She'd poured over photographs of Eleanor and ached for her little girl. She'd suffered with each and every operation her daughter had undergone. If Luke had loved her, perhaps, they'd have drawn closer. Instead, she'd been alone. Isolated. "We began wrong," she said gently, aware of the nurse sitting quietly in the corner |
chapter six Susanna saw the whiplash effect her words had. She hadn't meant to hurt him. Luke must have known they'd begun badly.He must have felt it. The nurse stood up and checked the monitors. She paused and smiled. "Eleanor is very peaceful. Why don't you take the opportunity to get something to eat?" Susanna couldn't imagine eating. Everything tasted like cardboard these days. She glanced down at Eleanor's sleeping face. "If she needs us we can be fetched," Luke said quietly. Susanna looked from Eleanor to Luke and then back to the nurse. Annie's solid good sense radiated from every pore — and Eleanor liked her. "I'll be here all the time," Annie said. "And your husband's right. I'll have you called if there's the slightest change." Reluctantly, Susanna nodded. "I'll be in The Swannery." The sandwich shop was a great alternative to the main cafeteria, as it was a lot quieter. Vaguely, she was aware of Luke behind her. She went to the locker and pulled out her handbag. She turned to face him. "It's probably a good idea to get some food. It's going to be a long night." He nodded. Susanna knew her way to The Swannery blindfolded. She'd spent so many hours there over the past year. It was bright and clean, with emerald green trelliswork trying to give the impression you'd stumbled into a bistro. "What do you mean 'began wrong'?" Luke asked as soon as they were out in the corridor. Susanna kept her eyes focused on the double doors ahead. "I'm not a fool. I know how much you gave up for Eleanor." "I've never said that." "No." He hadn't. Perhaps, it would have been better if he had. He'd been twenty-six. The world had been opening up before him. Luke could have done anything. Gone anywhere. Instead, he'd tied himself to a woman he didn't love for the sake of his baby. It had taken her a while to understand that. She'd wanted to believe the fairytale. Most of her still did. "But you can't pretend you married me because you wanted to be with me…can you?" She saw his eyes flick away and then back again. He couldn't say that. Susanna strode on through the double doors and paused at the elevator. She reached inside her handbag and rummaged inside for a pack of tissues. "Why did you sleep with me that night?" Luke asked abruptly. The elevator doors opened and Susanna stumbled inside. To answer that question was to bare her soul. She'd slept with him because it was everything she'd ever wanted. She looked up at him. It had been like being transported from the slums of Calcutta to Buckingham Palace. "I don't know." "I don't believe you." The lift doors closed. Susanna stepped forward and pushed the ground floor button. The lift shuddered and started its decent. Luke laid a hand on her arm. "Susanna, I need to know." Perhaps, he did. They'd gone from being almost friends…to being lovers…to being parents far too quickly. And Eleanor was his child, too. "It just happened," she said huskily. Her fingers trembled as she searched for the string that would open the packet. "That's no answer. I don't even know why you were at my parents' house." "I was their cleaner. It was my part-time job."Luke shook his head. "Not at nine o'clock at night. Susanna?" His blue eyes seemed to bore into her soul. Everything he said was true. She shouldn't have been there so late. In fact, she shouldn't have been there at all. Marilyn and Robert had flown to Barcelona for a week's holiday. The house had been left spotless. But she'd had a key, and Marilyn had told her to use the house as her own. Susanna pulled out a tissue and fiercely blew her nose. That night she'd really wanted to escape the well-meaning sympathy of friends. It had seemed like such a good idea. If she'd known Luke was going to be there she wouldn't have gone. Or would she? "The telephone kept ringing at home. Really nice people wanting to say really nice things about Dad…but I'd got tired of hearing them." "So you went to escape?" Susanna nodded. "Your mum said I could. If it all got too much. My aunt had gone back home that morning. She'd stayed for a couple of days after dad's funeral…" "I remember. You said." Susanna pushed the door of The Swannery open. "I really missed her when she left. I hadn't realised quite how much she'd been shielding me." "So you went to my parents' house." Luke picked up a tray. She glanced across at him, then back at the counter. "Then you came home." Luke knew that part of the story. He'd opened the front door and had heard a noise. His first thought had been that he'd disturbed burglars. Only it hadn't been. It had been a beautiful blonde. She'd been dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater that kept slipping off her shoulder. It had been classic student dress, but he'd found it amazingly sexy. He remembered that. She'd seemed almost as shocked as he was when he'd walked in, but he'd persuaded her to stay. He'd opened a bottle of wine and they'd sat and talked. Endlessly. She'd told him about her law degree, her ambition to become a lawyer and her failed French 'A' Level. He knew her favorite flowers were lilies of the valley and she'd told him why. It had been the only flower her mother had let her pick in the garden as a child. He'd forgotten that. It had been a wonderful evening. He hadn't wanted it to end. When she'd looked at her watch and suggested she ought to leave he'd persuaded her to stay the night. There were plenty of bedrooms…and he'd opened another bottle of wine. "I just want a coffee," Susanna said at his elbow. He looked down at her, and for the first time in months he saw the woman he'd met that night. "I'll bring it over. Do you want to pick somewhere to sit?" She nodded. Luke watched her walk across to a table by the [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ] She put her handbag on the floor and leant forward with her head in her hands, elbows on the table. This couldn't be the life she'd planned for herself. He felt like he'd been struck over the head with a bat. He'd been so focused on doing the right thing, on how he was feeling…he'd scarcely thought about Susanna. About how much she'd given up. He put two coffees on the tray and selected two plastic wrapped sandwiches — one ham, one cheese — and then he lined up to pay. Luke caught sight of Susanna as she ran her fingers through her hair and fixed unseeing eyes on the view outside. He'd never asked her how she'd felt when she first discovered she was pregnant. By the time she told him he was going to be a father, all the important decisions had been taken. The consequences of deciding to keep her baby had been as far-reaching for her as him. Her law degree had been abandoned; all her hopes of being a barrister had been put aside. And she'd done it freely. It made him feel ashamed at how much he'd resented the changes in his own life. Luke set the tray down on the table and waited until Susanna looked up. He sat in the chair opposite. "Now tell me why you slept with me?" |
Thanks nargis, it seems to be an interesting novel, I didn't read it yet as i am out of country with limited Internet access and thus will wait till you finish it and read it complete:flowers2:mai |
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Chapter seven Luke's choice of words jarred. He wanted to know why she'd slept with him. Susanna would never have described it like that. As far as she'd been concerned, she'd made love. With every fiber of her being. It had been like coming home.Susanna reached out and tore open a sachet of Demerara sugar. She watched as the brown crystals sank into her coffee and then she picked up her spoon. "Susanna?" Luke prompted. She looked up at him. His eyes were fixed on her face. There was obviously going to be no escape. Slowly, she stirred the dark liquid. "Do you remember the summer you came home for your parents' silver wedding?" "Y-yes. No." He looked confused. "What's that got to do with anything?" With meticulous care she laid the spoon on the tray. "I was fourteen. My mum was ill by then, but she managed to come to the garden party. We were all there." He nodded. "You'd come back from university specially." "I remember." Susanna smiled. It had been a beautiful day and the Burnett's garden was a stunning place to spend a summer afternoon. "I watched you play tennis. You won." Luke pulled his coffee nearer. "I don't understand …" "No. Well." She reached out and picked up the cheese sandwich. Without thinking she pulled back the plastic cover. "You were with some girl who had long red hair." "Kim Grantham." Susanna looked up. "Was it? I never knew her name. She was the most glamorous person I'd ever seen." She paused while she took a bite of her sandwich. "And I thought you were gorgeous. I spent months imagining what it would be like to be her." "And that's why you slept with me?" Susanna hesitated. To say "yes" would be the easy answer. End of interrogation and they could go on as before. It wouldn't be the truth, though. The silver wedding party had been the beginning. She'd been fourteen and he'd been twenty. She'd not been in love with him then — but it was the first time she'd noticed him. He'd seemed almost godlike. Perfect. She hesitated. "Not exactly. Why is this so important?"Luke picked up the ham sandwich. "Because I don't know the answer." "It doesn't matter." "It does to me." Susanna let a beat of silence pass and then she asked, "Why did you…make love to me?" She chose her words carefully, but Luke didn't seem to notice. His long fingers pulled back the cover on his sandwich and he took it out of the wrapper. "Because you cried." And then, "I think. I think that's why it happened." It wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. "Because I cried?" "I think so." Not because he'd wanted to. Not because he'd been overcome by passion. Just because she'd cried. Because he'd felt sorry for her. His words twisted a knife inside her. Susanna felt angry with herself. Even now, after all the heartache she still allowed herself to hope. There'd been a tiny chink of…something that made her dream of a different answer. It was time for all this to be over. Past time. She placed her half-eaten sandwich back in the plastic triangle it had come in and pushed it away. Luke put his own sandwich down. "So you fancied me at fourteen? What happened then?" Susanna looked up and met his eyes for a moment. She saw in them a confusion that didn't match his voice or the words he was using. Her fingers played with the rim of her mug. This was the moment of no return. If she told him she'd fallen in love with him at her eighteenth birthday party, dreamed about him every night since, she could never unsay the words. He would know. Always. But did that matter now? She'd already decided that whatever happened their marriage needed to end. For both of them. There was something about telling him Eleanor had been made out of her love for him that really appealed to her. A child should be made out of love. "When I was eighteen…" I fell in love with you. She even remembered the moment. The exact second when she'd looked across the room at him and known she'd never feel like that about anyone ever again. Luke frowned. "Your birthday?" "I had a party. Your mum had arranged it because my mum had died by then, and she wanted to look out for her friend's daughter." He nodded. "You were home for the Christmas holidays." In his face she saw the first trace of real understanding. As though he remembered the mistletoe. "I kissed you." Susanna kept looking at him. She watched his eyes. They seemed to change color, from gray to blue. In the end it was easy to say the words. They'd been locked up inside her for so long it was almost a relief. "I fell in love with you then." His mouth moved, but he didn't say anything. "It was as simple as walking from one room to another. One moment I was suffering an adolescent passion and the next…well, the next I knew I was in love. That I'd met the man I wanted to be with." Luke brushed a hand through his hair. In some distant recess of her mind, Susanna felt sorry for him. He'd obviously had no idea. He'd started this conversation with no inkling of what she'd say. "The trouble was, you didn't feel like that." "I —" "Don't." Susanna stopped him. She didn't want him to feel bad. It wasn't his fault he couldn't love her. "That night…the first night…I slept with you because I loved you." She saw the flush hit his cheekbones, the uncertainty in his eyes. "It doesn't matter. Not now. Whatever happens with Eleanor…if she lives or…" She couldn't bring herself to say the words. "Whatever happens now, it doesn't matter. Eleanor will always be your little girl. Our baby. Always." Susanna reached out and took hold of his hand across the table. His fingers closed around hers. "That's why I said, it's time this all stopped. You tried. Really, really hard." "No. I — " "I shouldn't have let you marry me. I always knew you didn't love me. You're a kind, passionate, wonderful man…but it's not enough. I want more. Whatever happens, I think we should get a divorce." Luke's hand gripped hers. "Susanna, I —" "You're unhappy…and so am I." Gently, she disengaged his fingers. "I ought to go back up and check on Eleanor. I don't like to think of her on her own." Luke sat as though a tranquilizer gun had hit him. The mother of his child had just told him she loved and wanted a divorce in the same breath. He knew he nodded and he saw her leave. She glanced back at him once, just as she pushed open the double doors. He didn't understand how he felt. He didn't understand anything. Susanna had slept with him because she loved him. All those vague suspicions crystallized into something tangible and real. Susanna loved him. Had loved him. And she wanted a divorce. His daughter was dying and his wife wanted a divorce. |
Chapter eight Twenty-four hours and Luke hadn't been able to see Susanna alone. She'd said she loved him — once — and he hadn't seen her alone since to talk about it. Or about anything. Luke spread the newspaper out on the white plastic table in the waiting room. They'd made the nationals. Just as they'd hoped. There was his little girl, her life slipping away. And his wife…gazing at Eleanor with such love in her eyes. The softness in her face made her look incandescently beautiful. Luke reached out and traced Susanna's cheekbone, the shape of her jaw. He was about to lose them both. One because she wasn't well enough to live…and the other through carelessness. There'd been a time when Susanna had looked at him that way. With love. He wanted that back. The photograph was haunting. There was Eleanor. His daughter. Eyes tightly shut. Tubes everywhere. The pink teddy bear his parents had bought… He swallowed painfully. And Susanna. Bone weary and emotionally drained. Her eyes focused on the precious life they'd created together…because she'd loved him. Memories of that night streamed through him. She'd said "they'd begun wrong," but that wasn't true. They'd begun right. It was just he hadn't recognized how right it was. He'd been young and selfish, fixated on the opportunities New York would bring him. He hadn't seen how precious the pearl he was leaving behind was. Susanna had always been there. So close, he'd not noticed her. Six years younger than him, but so much more mature. He'd told her he'd slept with her because she'd cried, but that wasn't true. He'd made love to her because he hadn't been able to do anything else. When she'd cried it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to hold her. And when he was holding her it had been the most natural thing to kiss her. And when he'd kissed her… It still felt natural. Every time he was with her, every time he touched her, something deep inside him responded to her. Because he loved her. How could he have missed that? Images passed through his mind. He saw Susanna standing before him telling him she was expecting his child. He saw her laughing at a joke, sun streaming through her hair. He saw her eyes clouded with passion. For him. "Luke?" He turned to look at Susanna. Her hand was splayed out on the waiting-room door, her face tired but calm. "Dr. Lane wants to see us." She looked so beautiful that he was almost too frightened to speak to her. "Now?" She nodded. "I don't know why." She raised a hand and brushed away a tear. He wanted to hold her. To tell her he loved her. That she was the woman he wanted to walk through the rest of his life with — whatever trials and tribulations it might bring. Luke stood up and stared at her as though he was seeing her for the first time. He wanted to be there for all her good times. Comfort her in the bad. He wanted to help her scale every mountain and stand looking at the view together. He wanted to see her get her law degree. Become a lawyer. Have other children, maybe. Tears swelled behind his eyes. He'd never wanted anything so fiercely as Susanna in his life. He'd been such a fool. He'd taken her love and screwed it under his foot. And now she wanted to walk away. She wanted a divorce. She was bright and beautiful, honest and caring. In many ways she deserved a new start with someone better than him…but he loved her and without her he'd be nothing. Luke felt the first tear drop down his face. It burned across his cheek like acid. "Luke?" Susanna moved forward, her face full of concern. Her hand reached out, then hesitated, not quite touching him. That killed him. She didn't feel she had the right to touch him. Dear God. Luke reached for her and he hid his face against her hair. It smelled of vanilla and summertime. His body throbbed with pain. He felt like he'd only just come alive. Susanna's arms held him tightly. "It might not be bad news," she said softly. "There's been no change in Eleanor." Every sense he had was screaming out with a desire to keep this woman close. To have, and to hold, for as long as they both should live. And he didn't know where to begin. He didn't know how to find the words to tell Susanna he loved her. How did he start to heal the pain he'd caused her? How could he make her believe in them? Luke pulled back and moved to hold her face between his hands. He stared down at her. "I love you." He saw the confusion hit her brown eyes. Perhaps, he should have led in more gently, perhaps… But they were the words of his heart and they spilled out. He forced her to keep looking at him, his blue eyes pleading for her to understand and see what was deep within him. "Luke, you don't —" "I love you," he repeated, his voice stronger. "I don't want you to leave me. Or divorce me." Susanna's eyes took on a new vulnerability. "Eleanor will always be your daughter…whatever happens between us," she whispered. He nodded and let go of her face. "I know that." He reached out for her hand and held it gently between his own. His thumb moved against her palm. "You know the moment you looked at me and knew you loved me?" She nodded, her hand still in his. Luke swallowed. "I just had that moment. Susanna…" He searched for the words. "Susanna, I want to do all the things I should have done before. I want to take you to dinner. I want to sit up late talking. I want to know every thought in your head. I want to fill our garden with lilies of the valley so our children and grandchildren can pick them." His voice deepened. "I want to go to sleep every night knowing you're going to be beside me when I wake." Susanna felt the first whisper of hope. Slowly, so slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away, Luke kissed her. His lips touched hers. Hesitantly, like a first kiss. Then, as he felt her hand twitch, he pulled back to look in her eyes. "I love you." "You love me?" she whispered brokenly. His mouth twisted into a wry smile. "I left it a bit late to tell you." Susanna stared up into his face. "A little." "I'm sorry." It was all there in his blue eyes. All the love she'd dreamed of seeing there — one day. She reached up and stroked the side of his face. The man she loved. Had always loved. The moment felt surreal. "I love you, too." Luke pulled her in close; so close she could feel the beat of his heart. His arms locked about her as though he would never let her go and Susanna felt the fear recede. With Luke beside her she could do anything. Cope with anything. "We need to go," she said softly. The door banged open and one of the nurses from the night shift rushed in. "There's been a phone call from London. They have a near perfect match for Eleanor." Susanna turned within Luke's arms to look at her. "A liver?" She nodded, her eyes glowing. "It's on its way. Dr. Lane has just called in a team of three surgeons. She needs to speak to you." "We're coming," Luke said behind her. The young nurse nodded and left. For a moment Susanna was too scared to believe what she'd heard, then relief started to flood through her. She knew there were no guarantees. That it would be a long seven- or eight-hour operation, followed by an agonizing wait to see if the organ had taken. "Eleanor's got a chance," she said brokenly. Luke smiled. The kind of smile that made her heart feel like it would burst from happiness. "A good one." He laced his fingers between hers and led her out through the doors, toward their daughter. The End |
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