by Teg
which I found very enjoyable. It only deepened my admiration for her even if her intent had been to put me off.”
Georgiana was familiar with her brother's love for a good argument. “Were you civilised or provoking?”
“Oh, a little of both,” chuckled Will. “I'd heard Jane and Charles talk about Lizzy so often that I felt I knew every facet of her. Finally I had the opportunity to learn first hand what made her the remarkable woman she was.”
“I cannot see how it could be a worthwhile endeavour.”
Elizabeth shot him a look of disgust. “That's exactly what I expected to hear from your lips. You and your kind, up in the lofty glass towers looking down upon the rest of us lowly bottom feeders.”
“My kind?” Will's eyebrows shot upward. “And what do you consider my kind?
Sure, I'll admit that I've never given much thought to the unemployed welfare class other than to avoid supporting their habits. I work hard and have no sympathy for lazy people who prefer to sit on their behinds and expect the world handed to them on a plate.”
“A very commendable attitude,” she sneered. “How generous of you to paint all of those beneath you with the same brush!”
“I assure you I do nothing of the sort. It has been my experience, however, that the more one grants a certain calibre of individual, the more they will take and subsequently expect the next time around. Please correct me if I have erred in my observations.” Will studied her with an unflinching gaze.
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. “You know I cannot refute your opinion as long as there continues to be people as you have described. I shall assure you that there are more that do not fit that description than you think.”
“I do not doubt their existence, Elizabeth. I've heard much of your successes.”
His mouth quirked up at one corner. “I could choose to believe it due to your exemplary abilities, of course.”
She blew out her breath forcefully. “Well, that's hardly likely!”
Will's eyebrow followed the example of his mouth. “My belief or your
abilities?”
Elizabeth's face reddened in embarrassment. “I have no idea what you have heard. If it is from Jane then it could very well be so exaggerated that I resemble Mother Theresa.”
His laughter startled her. “No, it's Jane who would resemble Mother Theresa.”
“You're right.” She grinned. “I still don't know what you've heard but I get results only because I work hard, too, and it's not the sitting in an office kind of job, either.”
“Touché.” He watched her in silence for a moment before getting back to his original question. “So why do you do it?”
“Everyone deserves self respect.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes slightly, saying,
“Alright, not everyone. Not the serial killer down the street. Jane might think so but I've never aspired for sainthood. Let's speak generally. The people I work with have lost their self esteem or never had any. Without it they can't raise themselves above the state of dependence in which they live; dependent on welfare, dependent upon others to provide and care for them. A lot of these people just give up, so depressed at their inability to be independent that they just don't want to try anymore. I listen. I respond. I don't offer any free rides. I
expect them to work just as hard as I do. I expect them to learn to respect themselves and to carry that confidence out into the world.” Her chin came up and her eyes defied him to disagree “I love my job. It's great for my own self esteem to see what a difference I can make with a little effort. Can you say the same?”
“I've never seen the need to improve my own self esteem,” he blandly replied.
Elizabeth didn't bother to hide her smirk. “I have no trouble believing that.”
“Hey!” called Charles from the doorway. “Are you two still out here
arguing?”
She quickly left her chair, casting a triumphant glance at her companion. “No, we're done.”
Will followed her into the house. Just inside the door she stopped, allowing him a brief opportunity to whisper in her ear, “Incidentally, Charles is my informant, not to mention two people I've recently hired who cannot seem to say enough good things about you.” He left her standing open mouthed as he stepped forward into the room.
“You've hired some of her clients?” Georgiana stared at him in surprise. “Will, that's wonderful of you!”
He impatiently dismissed her comment. “They are good workers and came
highly recommended by Charles. Don't praise me for doing a good deed.” He
fell silent again.
Encouraged by his openness and the way in which his emotions were less
intense than when they had begun, Georgiana was now wary of broaching the
most difficult part of all, wondering if another night's rest would give her brother more strength to face a discussion of Lizzy's current condition and future prognosis.
It was Will who decided to forge ahead. “Charles was out of town when Jane received the phone call late one night from the police, informing her that Elizabeth was en route to the hospital. They wanted Jane to meet them there.
She was hysterical when she called me, only managing to get out a few words.
Of course she was in no condition to drive and I got to their house as quickly as possible to take her.” Will closed his eyes, his memory of that place crystal clear.
Flashing lights, pulsating red.... people were rushing... rushing past him... in his way. Jane clutched his hand, his arm... she couldn't speak. He had to enquire at the desk for her. Two police officers, summoned by the duty nurse, approached, wanting to take Jane to her sister but she clung to Will, afraid to go on alone. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing strength from somewhere.
He was not prepared for the sight of her. Expecting a broken arm or something similar, the sight that greeted them caused bile to rise in his throat. Jane
gasped and promptly began sobbing, turning to Will and burying her head against his chest. His face must have reflected the horror he was feeling for one of the officers looked away until Will heard his own voice demanding the details.
The second officer related the facts in a detached tone, explaining how the victim had an argument with her boyfriend who then became abusive. A
neighbour, overhearing the incident, called police but the worst had been done by the time they arrived. He added that the boyfriend, George Wickham, was in custody; there was no need for concern that he might return to do more damage. He had been caught in the act and was spending the next few nights in a cell.
Will had stopped listening when he heard that name. Rage gripped him,
surging through his veins. Before he could react, Jane was at her sister's side, holding Elizabeth's hand and offering words of love and encouragement
between tears. He heard her trying to cling to hope despite the frightening reality of the battered form that lay unmoving before them. He watched as she gently reached out to the beloved face only barely recognisable.
“I wanted to kill him. I would have killed him then and there if he'd been in front of me.” Will ground his teeth together, anger rising anew. “How could he have done it? Her beautiful face, so bruised... the blood... What could have happened to make him turn on her like that? How could any man do that to a woman?” Covering his face with his hands, Will groaned, “I should have
warned her. Why didn't I do it when I had the chance?” His hands fell and he turned a tortured gaze on Georgiana. “I could have prevented it.”
“No!” she cried, her own anger mixed with the horror in hearing his tale. “You could not have prevented it, Will! Don't ever think that you could.”
“But I knew him, Georgie! He'd always been violent; as a child, a teen and now an adult,” he persevered, growing more agitated by the moment. “I should have told Lizzy about him as soon as I saw his wretched face at Charles' wedding!
But no, I thought she'd see throug
h him right away. She's so clever and his type is what she dealt with every day! It's my fault. If I'd told her the truth, let her know of his record, the bar brawls and the -!”
“No, Will.” Georgiana took hold of his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. “Even if you'd warned her she wouldn't have believed you. Did I believe you when you told me he was no good?” He tried to shake his head but her grip was too tight. “No, I had to learn for myself. Fortunately for me it was a man in a parking lot who took the beating, the poor soul. Don't do this to yourself, Will. Don't take the blame for George's actions.”
She released him and he collapsed in the chair, what was left of his reserve crumbling as his head fell into his arms. Georgiana wanted to reach out and hold him, like their mother used to comfort them as children, but his anger was still too close to the surface and any touch might set him alight. Words were of
no use; she could only sit and watch helplessly as the emotions claimed him in succession until he was left empty and spent, a hollow shell of a man whose one wish in life was denied him.
When she felt his awareness was returning Georgiana put another question
before him. “When was the last time you visited Lizzy?”
Will's head moved slowly side to side. His lips parted, the response sluggish.
“Not since that night she was brought in.”
She was astonished with his answer. “What? Why haven't you gone since
then?”
“I don't want to remember her that way. I want to remember her like she was when she was alive.” Pain was evident in every line of his face as he met his sister's gaze. “I know how that sounds. I know she not dead but... she's not alive, either. I just... can't.”
“Will....”
“No, Georgie. You know what some believe, that a comatose patient is aware, can hear what's going on around them. She hates me. I have no business in her hospital room, by her side. She wouldn't want me there.” His posture once
again conveyed the obstinance of his decision.
Georgiana was silent for a few moments, then slowly, quietly, she said, “Lizzy has been surrounded by love and encouragement for months and there has been no improvement. Maybe she needs something different to motivate her to
rejoin us.”
Will looked up, his expression indicating his mind was considering her
suggestion. “Make her angry? Wouldn't that do more harm than good?”
“Will, at this point is there any difference?”
With a sharp movement of his hand he dismissed the idea. “I'm not family. Jane would never allow it.”
Waiting until she was sure he was listening, Georgiana pointedly replied,
“Charles said Jane is losing hope of Lizzy recovering.” She saw the muscle twitch in his cheek and his face turned away.
“She can't give up,” he whispered. “There are machines.... tubes feeding her. If Jane gives up.... she'll be gone, truly gone.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Georgiana waited anxiously for some sign
from him, something to show that his love for this woman was not just in his memory.
“She must know.” Will took a deep breath while his sister puzzled over his words. “Jane must be made to realise that I won't let Lizzy slip away without doing everything I can to bring her back.” Determination brought his chin up and he sat tall in the chair. “Tomorrow I'll see Elizabeth.”
Chapter Five
It was worse than his nightmares; the smell of disinfectant,
sterile and cold. The lighting was bright, reflecting off the
institutional yellow paint of the walls. Voices could be
heard, hushed and furtive, sending a chill down his spine. A
glass barrier with a locked door separated the intensive care
section from the rest of the floor. Jane pressed the button to
call the nurses' station and request permission to enter. The
door opened with a swishing sound, the air noticeably
colder on the other side. Will followed Jane cautiously, his
eyes darting about and taking in as much detail as possible.
The door closed just as quickly behind them, sealing out the
noises from beyond. In the sudden quiet Will became aware
of new sounds; the steady hum of equipment and faint
beeping which seemed to come from every direction at
once.
His heart was beating at a rapid pace the further they advanced down the
corridor. Jane had not spoken to him since they had entered the elevator and left Georgiana in the main floor waiting room. His sister had squeezed his hand reassuringly but once the elevator doors closed all the confidence she had reinforced promptly fled Will. Alone with Elizabeth's sister, he began to realise that her silence was one of disapproval.
There was nothing he could say.
At the end of the hall a door stood open into a dimly lit room. Will suddenly noticed that every room had a glass wall separating it from the corridor,
presumably so that the nursing staff could more easily monitor their patients.
Blinds could be closed to afford more privacy for visitors attending their loved ones. Jane entered and immediately closed the view from outside.
Will stopped in the doorway, unable to move one step closer. As his eyes
adjusted to the dim light he heard various mechanical sounds, his mind
struggling to identify them in an effort to stay calm. He forced his eyes to take an inventory of the room's contents. Two chairs sat against the far wall on either side of a window. Blinds were drawn, diffusing the sunlight which would otherwise be streaming in.
The bed, of course, dominated the room but he avoided looking at it, choosing to examine the various pieces of equipment with their displays of
incomprehensible numbers and graphs, whirring sounds and occasional beeps.
Finally his eyes came to rest on the bed and the figure under the blanket, still and silent. His mind refused to acknowledge that this was Elizabeth; his
Elizabeth. Gone were the bruises that he remembered from three months
previously but also gone were the luxurious locks of hair that would trail down her back and teasingly along her neck. A gauntness in her face reflected the toll
her prolonged condition had taken on her body. Her eyes were closed, of course. Will found himself silently urging her to open them, anxious to see the laughter, or even scorn in their light one more time.
“Will.” Jane was looking at him strangely. “I think you should sit down.” She quickly took his arm and led him to a chair, pushing him into it. “Do you feel okay? You don't look well.”
He shook his head. “No, a little lightheaded. I think it's -.”
“Put your head between your knees,” Jane briskly ordered. “I don't know what you expected, Will, but the first time I saw Lizzy with all those machines around her I nearly fainted. Thank goodness the nurse had come in with me and she made me sit down right away.” Taking the chair next to him, Jane stared at the floor for a few minutes before asking the question that had been plaguing her ever since Charles had told her of his friend's request to see Lizzy. “Why did you wait until now to come? If you loved her, how could you stay away?”
Will had asked himself that question many times and still hadn't found an
answer that adequately explained his feelings. “When I brought you here that night,” he began slowly, “and saw what George had done to her, all I wanted was to get my hands on him. If he hadn't already been in police custody I
would have tracked him down.” He forced his eyes to take in Elizabeth's
appearance, so near to him and yet unreachable. “My beautiful Lizzy... what he did was monstrous. Yes, Jane, I loved her and still do. Despite that, her feelings were the opposite and that was one reason I dared not come here.”
Jane clucked her tongue. “You never asked about her.”
Her tone was accusing.
“Charles, in his concern for you both, confided in me daily. I was never
uninformed.” Again his eyes travelled to Elizabeth.
“You said it was one reason. Are there others?”
Will's voice was so quiet she barely heard his reply. “I was afraid. As long as I didn't see her and Charles kept me up to date on her condition then I wouldn't have to feel again what I felt that night... when I thought she was dead, that George had killed her.”
Jane said nothing, then quietly left her seat, moving to the small table beside the bed and opening the drawer. She turned back toward Will, a bottle of lotion in her hand. “Every day I come and apply body lotion. I start with her feet but all of her skin needs the attention. It's so dry in here and without proper blood circulation her skin doesn't get the oxygen it needs to remain healthy.
Massaging in the lotion keeps it supple and encourages the blood flow.” She added tentatively, “You may help me if you wish.”
Will had listened carefully and was astonished to hear Jane's offer. He readily accepted and joined her at the end of the bed where she pulled back the blanket covering Lizzy's legs. Again Will was struck by the evidence of the muscles'
lack of use.
“Hold out your hand,” Jane said, squeezing out the lotion into his open palm.
“Honeysuckle!” he murmured in surprise. Bittersweet memories assailed
him. The taste of her lips...
“Yes,” smiled Jane, her voice bringing him sharply back to the present. “Lizzy's favourite. The doctor suggested strong familiar scents might help to trigger a release from her coma but so far it's not made any difference.” She began on one foot and Will did the same to the other, slowly working the lotion into the sole and massaging the arch, ankle and toes. Her skin was very soft but cold to the touch until the motions stimulated circulation and warmth brought some colour to her pale flesh.
Jane's fingers moved up along Lizzy's lower leg, flexing the muscles by lifting and bending it at the knee. Will said not a word, merely watched and duplicated her actions. The scent of the lotion brought back memories of the times he'd been fortunate enough to stand close to Elizabeth and enjoy her nearness. He would not allow his thoughts to wander there again, however; not in Jane's presence. Diligently, Will focussed on his task and was therefore startled when Jane began to speak.