Butterfly of Venus

by Susan F. MacKay

  “Hey, sweetie. How’s the baby coming?”

  “Getting fatter by the day, just like Mom.”

  “Enjoy, sweetie. You’re eating for two.”

  “Indeed I am, Effie.”

  “At least you’ve got an excuse. Stevie’s had me on tofu and dust for a month now. I’m down fifteen pounds.”

  “Good for you, Eff. Listen, how did you feel when you sold Stylish?”

  “You mean getting all that money and not having to work fifteen hours a day? It was horrible.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I get your point, Eff. But didn’t you miss it? You worked so hard to make it happen.”

  “Just like you with ATM.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you packing it in?”

  “I think I’ve made up my mind it’s time to move on.”

  “Move on to where?”

  “To the hills of Scotland. As far away from Natasha as possible.”

  “Natasha?”

  “She got bail.”

  “Oh no. That must be scary.”

  “Exactly. I think I’ll get out while I can and leave the whole mess behind. Besides, I’ve got a new job, one I’ve never done before.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Being a full-time mother.”

  “You’ll be as good at that as you are at everything else. By the way, Stevie and I decided on Tuscany for the honeymoon, but we promise to visit KLB.”

  “It’s a deal, Effie.”

  * * *

  ATM sold to a large multimedia company out of California. As part of the deal, Elizabeth negotiated that none of her employees could be replaced for at least a year.

  Manny was philosophical when she told him the news. He and Damon had been thinking of moving to Mexico to run a small inn. The timing was good.

  Elizabeth couldn’t resist asking, “Has Damon heard from Declan?” She wasn’t expecting Manny’s answer.

  “Matter of fact, he has. Declan always calls on Damon’s birthday.”

  Elizabeth felt two sharp twinges inside her. “Where is he?”

  “Halifax. He said he was working in a bar called . . . what was it?”

  Elizabeth waited impatiently.

  “An Irish place. The Square, the Triangle, something like that. He said he was coming back next week.”

  Too bad she would no longer be here.

  “Thanks, Manny.”

  Elizabeth called Jayce to give him the news of Declan’s return. He was both disgruntled and pleased. “I’m gonna kick that boy’s ass if he does anything like this again. I’ve got plans for him, and no one’s gonna mess ’em up.”

  Elizabeth signed one last set of papers, completing the sale of ATM. She was officially free. Her flight was booked to Scotland. Was it a coincidence that it would be stopping for three hours in Halifax? Elizabeth didn’t think so. If anything, it was a sign, a chance for her to take one last look at the man who’d bewitched her, made her happier than she’d ever been, then broken her heart.

  In Halifax, Elizabeth left the airport and took a taxi to the Irish Triangle Ale House. A quick call had confirmed that Declan Thomas was indeed playing. She pulled her raincoat collar around her face and took a seat in a shadowy corner where she couldn’t be seen from the stage. Declan sat under a single spotlight, his guitar casually on his knee. It had been more than six weeks since she’d seen him. He was paler and thinner. His hair had grown longer and fell against his collar. Faint shadows beneath his dark eyes loaned him a haunting quality. He was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen. The bar was only half full, but all eyes were on him.

  He spoke into the microphone in a voice that was soft and low, tinged with sadness. “This song is about true love. It might not be the person you end up with, but it’s the person you never forget. Some might say it’s about the one who got away and what happens when there’s no one to blame but yourself.”

  Declan threw his guitar strap over his neck and began to sing. His husky voice, as ever, was pitch perfect, with outstanding control.

  Perfect lover,

  Perfect storm.

  Beneath my blanket

  I’ll keep you warm.

  It was the song Declan had written for her. She was his perfect lover. Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. She couldn’t stand to listen anymore. It hurt too much. A kick inside her reminded her it was time to go. Her new life was beginning.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Elizabeth arranged to spend the last two weeks of her pregnancy at a furnished apartment close to the hospital in Inverness, three hours’ drive south of Kinlochbervie. Meantime, she busied herself painting the nursery a sunny yellow. She ordered baby clothing online, along with everything else she thought she might need. Muriel’s husband, Archie, agreed to come and help her assemble baby furniture, plus do anything else she required. Her days settled into a pleasant routine of daily walks around the loch, followed by long dreamless naps. Her old life, and Declan, seemed very far away.

  Oldshoremore, Elizabeth’s favourite beach, was a stunning stretch of white sand fringed with foreboding rocks and grassy dunes. She knew it would not be long until she could no longer negotiate the steep climb up a sandbank to get to wooden steps that led down to the beach. Today might be her last chance to go. Even though it was freezing cold, for once the weather was sunny, so a brief jaunt outside was worth the effort. She packed herself a Thermos of decaf coffee and set off.

  The beach was usually deserted at this time of year, but she could see two tiny figures at the farthest end. As they walked towards her, Elizabeth recognized Tattie. He was holding hands with a small plump woman. Elizabeth stopped to say hello.

  Tattie smiled shyly and introduced his companion. “Hello, Elizabeth. This is Bridie, my fiancé.”

  “How wonderful,” said Elizabeth. “When’s the happy day?”

  “Och, we’ve no got that far yet,” said Tattie.

  “I’m making sure it’s soon,” added Bridie, “or he’s no comin ta ma bed.”

  Tattie let out a loud guffaw. Elizabeth immediately liked Bridie. Seeing Elizabeth’s pregnancy, Bridie asked, “When’s the wee bairn comin’?”

  “Due December fifteenth.”

  “Your first?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “Och, the first ones take their time.”

  “I hope not,” said Elizabeth. “I’d like to get on with it.”

  “Aye,” agreed Bridie. “Ah remember the feelin’.”

  A sudden shift in the wind blew a blast of sand into their faces. Tattie rubbed his hands together and looked at the sky. “Och, there’s a storm comin’. I think we’d better get back.”

  Elizabeth was surprised to see that a bank of dark clouds had appeared from nowhere. She still wasn’t used to the changeability of the weather in Kinlochbervie. A drop of icy rain fell on her face. “Yes, let’s go back,” she said. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt alarmed.

  Elizabeth’s feet slipped in the sand as she attempted to climb up the sandbank off the beach. The heavy weight she was carrying made climbing difficult. Fortunately, Tattie was there to lend a hand and give her a pull. She was halfway up when a searing cramp ripped through her belly. Elizabeth fell to her knees with a cry. The pain was excruciating. Bridie was immediately at her side. Elizabeth felt a gush of liquid. The sand beneath her was suddenly soaked with water and flecked with blood.

  “I think the bairn is trying ta oblige by coming sooner rather than later,” said Bridie with concern.

  Elizabeth groaned. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way she could walk. She wanted to crawl into a ball and moan. The pain continued to hammer at her.

  Bridie looked at Tattie in alarm. “We need to get her home, Tat. Call emergency.”

  “Right.” Tattie produced a cellphone from his pock
et and made a call for assistance. When he hung up, he reported, “The helicopter is nearby in Scourie. They’re going to try and make it in.”

  “A helicopter?” Elizabeth felt like she was dying. The last thing she wanted was a ride in a helicopter. Pain shot though her like a bullet. She screamed.

  “Right, lassie. Put your arms around me,” Tattie said.

  Elizabeth felt weak and helpless, but wrapped her arms around his massive form as he scooped her up. She closed her eyes and felt rain against her face. She couldn’t watch their progress; she simply had to surrender as Tattie struggled with her weight against the slippery sand. The journey to the top of the sandbank seemed to take forever. Finally, she heard a panting Tattie say, “We’re here, Elizabeth.” She opened her eyes. They’d arrived at Tattie’s flatbed truck. He gently laid her in the back and covered her with a tarp. “It’s no fancy, but it’ll keep ye from getting soaked.”

  Bridie clambered in beside her and held her. Rain splashed onto the canvas as Tattie negotiated the winding road back to Elizabeth’s cottage. He carried her inside and laid her on the bed. Bridie stroked her hair and made soothing noises. “When a bairn decides it’s ready ta be born, ya just have ta go along wi it.”

  It wasn’t as if Elizabeth had a choice, or she surely wouldn’t have chosen this. Anything but this. Pain picked her up like a giant wave and smashed her against the beach. She screamed again, fearful about what was happening, terrified for the life inside her.

  Tattie came into Elizabeth’s bedroom, looking worried. The wind outside had picked up. It roared around the cottage with a violent, eerie whistling. Tattie rubbed the back of his neck. He spoke to Bridie in a low, concerned voice. “The copter can’t get in.”

  Bridie was quick to answer, “Get Muriel.” Bridie turned to Elizabeth. “Don’t you worry, my love. Muriel has delivered more babies than half the doctors in Inverness.”

  Tears streamed down Elizabeth’s face. The pain was relentless. Her vision cracked into little black snakes. She was certain she was dying. Time distorted into one long black tunnel of agony. Thunder cracked. Lightning flashed. The wind howled. Elizabeth was vaguely aware of women’s voices. She felt Muriel lift her head and put a few drops of something warm and sweet in her mouth. It relaxed her enough to doze for a few seconds, but the pain returned, hammering relentlessly at her. Fingers of daylight crept across the bedclothes. Elizabeth felt so weak she was sure death was hovering nearby. She was going to surrender to it. Who would take care of her babies?

  Muriel’s voice whispered in her ear. “We had to turn the baby around, lassie, but now it’s ready. Just one more push.”

  Elizabeth didn’t know if she had the strength, but she heard her father’s voice say, “You can do it. You can do whatever you set your mind to.” With a heartrending scream, Elizabeth focused every ounce of strength to push, then lay back sobbing. She was completely numb from the waist down. A wonderful light and stillness filled the room. It was so calm and quiet, Elizabeth thought she must be dead. She heard a faint mewl, like a tiny kitten. How did a kitten get in here? she wondered. Then the mewl turned into a lusty roar. Muriel placed a scrunched pink bundle on her chest. “Ye have a bonnie wee lassie,” said Muriel.

  Elizabeth’s eyes filled with wonder. This child was an absolute miracle of perfection. Muriel placed the baby at Elizabeth’s breast to suckle. Elizabeth rested for a few minutes, but then the pain picked up again like a gale. Elizabeth heard Muriel say, “We’re no finished. There’s another bairn. Push again, lassie. Push.” Summoning resilience she didn’t know she had, Elizabeth grit her teeth in agony and bore down once more. Minutes later, Muriel laid another bundle on her chest. “Ye also have a bonnie wee laddie.”

  It was a double miracle. Elizabeth’s heart filled with wonder and joy. She had successfully kept the secret she was having twins to herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Declan’s album Heartstrings hit stores right before Christmas. He and his band opened for Taylor Swift on a thirty-city tour across North America to promote the CD. Sales were phenomenal, even better than the new management at ATM had expected. It was becoming difficult for him to walk down the street without fans stopping him. A documentary and a possible movie role were in the works. His first cheque was for $100,000, and there was plenty more to come.

  He should have been ecstatic. It was the type of success he’d always dreamed of, but something was missing. At every concert, in every crowd, Declan caught a glimpse of long red hair. His heart thumped at the thought it might be Elizabeth. When he saw a girl with green eyes, he was reminded of her. He tried to distract himself by writing songs, but every song turned out to be about her.

  Declan’s mother had told him that Elizabeth now knew his background. With his newfound success, his mother became impatient. “Declan, I can see why you would be reluctant to have a relationship with a rich and powerful woman when you felt you had nothing to offer, but now you’re on every radio station. They’re even playing you in supermarkets.”

  Declan laughed. It was true. While shopping for groceries, he’d heard one of his tunes. Two teenaged girls recognized him and began to scream. Before he knew it, a crowd had gathered in the aisles and he was forced to flee without bread and milk.

  Joan continued, “Whether you wanted to be a father or not, the point is, you are one. What’s done is done. You’ll never know your own biological father. Nothing can change that. Would you purposely inflict that absence on a child?”

  His mother’s words hit their intended mark. Declan missed Elizabeth in a way he hadn’t known was possible. When he closed his eyes at night, he imagined her naked beauty beside him. He longed to kiss her soft skin and feel how willingly she surrendered to him. The sex between them had been scorching hot. He’d had plenty of chances to sleep with other girls. They practically threw themselves at him. But Elizabeth wasn’t a girl. She was a hugely sexy, confident woman who made him laugh and who now understood his difficult beginning in life. Was he crazy to live without her?

  Six months passed in a blur of concerts and recordings. His star rose even higher. What was he waiting for? He grabbed an atlas from his mother’s shelf and found a map of Scotland. The village was called Kinloch-something or other. There it was, on the northwest tip. He wondered how fast he could get there. But he didn’t have Elizabeth’s address. How would he find her?

  Joan Thomas laughed at his concern. “It’s a tiny village. I’m sure everyone knows everyone. Just turn up there and ask.”

  * * *

  Elizabeth had her hands full with the twins and an unexpected present from Tattie, a golden lab pup. The fluff ball didn’t seem to mind being mauled and drooled on by the babies, and quickly settled into the household. Elizabeth called him Django, after her father’s favourite guitar player. How life can change, she thought. Last year I was a successful but lonely businesswoman. Today I’m the head of a household of four, with barely a second for myself. She decided she wouldn’t change it for the world. She had all the love she needed in her life and more. Perhaps one day, when the twins were older, she would track down Declan and introduce them to their father. Meanwhile, she had only to look into their eyes to see Declan looking back at her.

  Occasionally, at night, on the rare evening she didn’t fall into an exhausted sleep, she remembered the good times she and Declan had shared. Their time together in Paris had been magical. On a bridge in the City of Light was a lock with their names on it that proved they had been there together. She’d been nervous back then, unsure whether to sleep with Declan or not. Was it that night on the balcony when he had taken control of her, punished her for lying about her orgasm, that the twins had been conceived? She had a feeling it was. She would give anything for one more night in his arms. One more chance to kiss the hurt of his childhood away, to run her fingers over his beautiful face, to join his firm mouth with the circling, twining tongues of lovers. She st
ill had Declan’s gift of Rodin’s The Kiss on her dresser as a reminder of that sweet time.

  Oh, stop it, Elizabeth, she told herself. You’ve got the memories, and a lot of very erotic ones, at that. What other fantasies might she have been able to come up with for him if she’d had the chance? She told herself to let it go. She had set Declan free. It was the greatest of all gifts.

  Bridie bustled into the kitchen, taking off her apron. Elizabeth was thankful she had been available to help with the twins, and Bridie was glad for the paid work.

  “They’re down for their nap,” said Bridie. “Dear wee souls.”

  “Thanks, Bridie. See you later.”

  “Aye.”

  Elizabeth could hear sheep bleating in the distance. She poured a coffee and stared out the window at the eternal rolling sea. A radio station played softly in the background. Elizabeth thought she recognized the tune. She turned it up.

  Declan sang:

  Age is nothing but a number

  Without a state of mind.

  You pull a cake from the oven,

  It’s such a simple life.

  Declan had clearly made it in the music business, as she’d known he would. Good. She was happy for him. She peeked in on the sleeping twins and whispered, “That’s Daddy singing on the radio. One day you’ll meet him.”

  * * *

  At that moment, Declan was flying along the single-track road to Kinlochbervie, scattering sheep and barely making it into lay-bys that allowed traffic to pass in the opposite direction. Several annoyed drivers gave him the finger or tooted their horn. Declan didn’t care. He wanted to get where he was going as fast as possible. Now that he’d made up his mind, there was no turning back.

  He screeched to a halt in the middle of Kinlochbervie’s Manse Road. No one seemed to be about except an old dog lying on the sidewalk. Oh hell. Here goes, he thought. He got out of the car and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Elizabeth! Elizabeth, where are you?”