He shook her shoulder harder.
“Wake up, Regan,” he said loudly and she jerked awake. “There’s a warm towel there. You’re not going to want your dinner are you, love?” he said.
“I can’t stay awake,” she said. “Sorry, Bram.”
“It’s okay. You can have my bed. I’ll take the sofa. Give me a shout when you’re decent and I’ll come and sort out your cuts. I’ll put some pyjamas out for you.”
By the time he’d fetched his first aid box, she was on top of the bed, asleep and looking tiny in his T shirt and shorts pyjamas. He gently dabbed antiseptic cream on her grazes and put plasters over two deeper cuts. There was nothing that needed stitches, thank goodness, but she was going to be sore in the morning.
She even had blisters on her feet. One of them had burst. She must have been in a lot of pain with all this, but she hadn’t complained once.
He was gently dabbing fresh blood away from her leg when he felt her eyes on him. His breath caught when he looked up and saw her watching him, her eyes soft and sleepy.
“Bram?” she murmured.
“Sh, it’s okay,” he said and pulled the covers over her. “I’m not looking, I promise. Get some sleep.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He was almost tempted by her parted lips, but he fought with himself and won.
He didn’t trust himself at all where Regan was concerned. None of his old feelings for her had diminished. If anything they were stronger than ever.
But this time he wasn’t going to leave. This time he’d see it through and if she insisted on it, he’d give up the RNLI and live the quiet life of a small town vet. They were both older and wiser now and if she’d missed him half as much as he’d missed her, then there had to be a chance for them.
“Go back to sleep,” he murmured and his resolve crumbled when she reached up and put her arms round his neck pulling him close. “Regan, no,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure he could fight her as well as himself. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
He felt her breath warm against his neck and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to push her back against the pillows. Her eyes were closed.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Sleep tight.” And as he walked away and closed the door, he didn’t know whether to kick himself or pat himself on the back.
Regan was running across the sand and all she could hear was the pounding of her feet and her own ragged breaths.
“Georgie,” she cried. “Georgie!”
There was a bundle of clothes at the water’s edge and she could see one little foot poking out and the little foot wore a red shoe. Georgie had begged for the red shoes and in the end, Regan had given in. She can wear red shoes every day forever, just make her safe, she sobbed.
Georgie’s long dark hair was tangled with seaweed and Regan brushed it off her face. Her little girl stared up at her with Bram’s eyes, but they were lifeless. She was dead.
“Georgie! No!” she screamed. “No!”
And then Bram was there, pulling her away, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She struggled to get away from him. She had to save her daughter.
“Regan, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s all right.”
“Georgie,” she sobbed and reached out, but her hands found only fur and a wet nose and when she opened her eyes she realised she was in bed and lying next to her was Bram’s dog, Rags, tail flicking, eyes filled with concern.
She sat up, breathing hard. Her body was crushed against Bram’s and when she realised, she tried to push him away, but there was no strength in her hands.
She was filled with righteous indignation, but the terror of her nightmare overwhelmed her and she relaxed in his arms and gave way to the tears again.
“You had a bad dream, Regan,” he soothed, holding her close, stroking her hair. He had such gentle hands. She buried her face in his shoulder and he smelled so good and his skin against hers felt wonderful. But how could anything feel wonderful when she felt so wretched? It was a dream, but it had felt so real. She shuddered violently. She really should put a stop to this right now, but it felt so good to be held; to have someone to lean on. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held her like this…
Oh, yes she could. It had been Bram. The night before he went out and nearly got killed. The feelings she’d felt that last time they were together flooded back. Then, as now, she’d felt safe in his arms. Loved. Wanted. Precious. All the things she’d never felt before in her whole life. They’d fallen asleep after planning their wedding, talking about the children they would have, the future.
Then his pager had bleeped and he was leaping out of bed, bumping into things as he tried to get dressed in the dark.
She’d put the light on, unaware that the future was about to be snatched away from them.
“What is it?”
“Shout,” he’d said, leaning over to kiss her. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back in time for breakfast.”
“Be careful,” she’d told him and she had lain awake listening to the raging storm with a terrible feeling of foreboding.
Her phone had rung just before dawn.
It had been Len.
“I’m sorry, Regan,” he’d said. “There’s no easy way to say this, love. Bram’s in hospital. It’s bad… I’m heading over there now and I’ll swing by and pick you up in five minutes.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll fill you in when I see you.”
She’d hardly been able to dress herself she was shaking so much. He said it was bad. How bad?
Her breathing steadied. Bram thought she’d fallen asleep and he lay down next to her, still holding her close as he pulled the duvet over her and tucked it round her so they weren’t touching. He was only flesh and blood after all and it had been a very long time…
He thought about the new equipment he wanted to get for the surgery, forced himself to think about work. He had to. Maybe he should think about taking on another vet. There was plenty of work for two, but did he really want more spare time on his hands? Wasn’t it better to keep busy?
Regan was hardly aware of Bram lying beside her; she was so lost in her thoughts of long ago. That awful night when Len’s car had pulled up outside the cottage she and Bram shared.
It was raining hard and she was soaked through. She remembered it all so vividly. Running to the car, splashing through a puddle and drenching both feet.
All she could hear was Len’s voice telling her it was bad.
She’d got in the car.
“How is he?”
“It’s a possible spinal injury,” Len said, getting straight to the point. “Broken bones. Internal injuries. He’s pretty badly smashed up, Regan. But, love, it’s worse than that.”
“What can be worse?”
“Tom,” he said and he hadn’t been able to say more. She’d watched tears run down his face, shining in the lights from the dash.
“Dead?” she whispered. “Oh, God, no!”
She was silent as Len set off for the hospital, thinking of Tom’s wife – his widow and his kids.
There had been times like this before when Bram had got hurt. He was brave and he was reckless, but he’d always scraped through with minor injuries. Not this time.
“Is Bram going to be okay?” she whispered at last.
“No way of knowing just yet.”
“What happened, Len?”
He’d told her the story bit by bit as they drove through the night.
They’d been called out to a fishing boat that had sustained serious damage. The sea had been heavy and a seventeen year old had been badly hurt. Bram had got the teenager stabilised and while they were getting him into the lifeboat, the fishing boat had lurched violently. Tom was thrown into the sea, knocked unconscious and Bram had gone in behind him.
And then they’d lost them both in those raging seas and when they found them, Bram was clinging on to Tom, but he’d been batte
red against the side of the boat and his own injuries were just about as bad as they could get.
Her memories became hazy as once again sleep overwhelmed her. But the memories weren’t going to let her go and she took them into her dreams.
They arrived at the general hospital to find that Bram had already been transferred to the spinal injuries unit at another hospital.
“I’ll call my parents, Len,” Regan said shakily. “It’s not right to expect you to do all this.”
He’d waited while she made the call. Her mother hadn’t been best pleased to be woken up so early in the morning.
“It’s Bram,” Regan had sobbed down the phone. “He’s been hurt.”
“That’s awful, darling,” her mother had replied. “I hope he’s all right.”
“No, he’s not. He’s been transferred to another hospital. Mum, could you or Dad drive me?”
There’d been a slightly stunned silence on the line. Regan realised she’d never asked her parents for anything before. Certainly not since she was a very small child.
“Darling, it’s so early and you know neither of us likes driving in this awful weather.”
“Yes, I know but…”
“We would, like a shot, darling, but we’ve got the Andersons staying with us. What would it look like if we just disappeared? And it’s not as if Bram’s your husband.”
Oh, she had to get that dig in, even now when Bram’s life was hanging in the balance.
“Mum, I need…”
“Look, you knew the risks when you took up with a man like Bram. If you wanted a quiet life, you should have chosen someone else. Someone like your father.”
Incredibly she heard her father chuckle in the background.
“Bram could die!” she’d yelled.
“I’m sure it won’t come to that…”
Before she could say any more, Len had taken the phone out of her hand.
“Don’t worry about your daughter,” he’d said. “I’ll take care of her. Fortunately she has many friends who will help and support her.” And then he hung up. Sometimes in the dream, her father’s chuckle turned to loud, mocking laughter and sometimes her mother said they’d be there right away. The truth was that right them, all she had was Len.
“Come on, girl,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”
Despite all her experience, when she walked in and saw Bram so broken up with machines all around him and a vicious looking cut on his face, her knees had given way and Len caught her.
“Do you know his next of kin?” the doctor had asked.
“I think that would be me,” Regan said shakily, remembering how he’d told her about the deaths of his grandparents within days of each other, so devoted that they couldn’t live one without the other. His grandfather, he said, died of a broken heart.
He was estranged from his father and she had no idea how to go about contacting him and his mother had died when he was a child.
The doctor told her to expect the worst, but hope for the best and she’d sat beside his bed for days, holding his hand, talking to him, urging him to get better.
She was there again now, in her dreams and this part never changed. It was always the same. She was sitting beside his bed, holding his unresponsive hand and then the alarm had sounded and all hell broke loose as the room filled with doctors and nurses and she was pulled gently out of the way.
“Bram!” she screamed, struggling to get back to him. “Bram! Wake up! Don’t you dare die on me!”
CHAPTER NINE
Bram jerked awake. It was still dark and she was screaming again and this time it was his name she was calling out. He shook the sleep out of his head and sat up.
“I’m not going to die,” he said, shaking her gently. “I’m here. I’m all right.”
He flicked on the light and her eyes shot open. She sat up and began to hit him.
“I can’t stand it,” she cried. “You’ve got to stop!”
Stunned, he felt the sharp slaps of her hands before he came to his senses and managed to grasp her wrists and hold her still.
“Regan,” he said, trying to break through as he shook her gently. “Regan, wake up! You’re having another nightmare.”
She carried on struggling, but he could feel her growing weaker as wakefulness overcame sleep and she realised where she was. She looked round, seeing properly this time, her eyes full of pain and confusion.
“Bram,” she whispered. “You’re all right… I thought… It was a dream, just a dream.”
“Has this happened before? Or is it because I’ve just come back and because… because of Georgie and Jay?”
He watched it all dawn on her. All the things that had happened so recently and he saw a mask of sadness settle over her lovely face.
Voice thick with misery she said, “It’s happened before. Not so much as it did at first, but every now and then it all comes back. Usually if I’m very tired or stressed. Anxiety dreams I suppose.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, cradling her in his arms again. “I’m so very sorry, Regan. I had no idea.”
“I always wake myself up at the same part… It was when you had to be resuscitated. You came so close to dying, Bram and I had to stand helplessly by and watch. I thought I’d lost you.”
Guilt washed over him in waves. How selfish he’d been. He’d never seen things from this side before. He’d only ever seen her worried face looming over him and her demands that he must give up the RNLI. He just hadn’t been able to tell her that his return to the service was in question anyway and her demands pointless.
He’d responded instead by quoting facts and figures at her. He’d been unlucky, that was all. And then came her ultimatum. It was like a lifeline and he’d grabbed it with both hands.
“Make up your mind, Bram. Me or the RNLI?”
He hadn’t wanted it to end that way, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. Let her go before she became obligated to stay. She made it easy for him.
“If I walk out that door, Regan, it’s the last you’ll see of me, I promise you that.”
What a stupid thing it had been to say, considering he was in a wheelchair. It was the sort of thing that at one time would have had them both helpless with laughter, but the laughter had stopped when Tom died and when he very nearly followed him.
“Fine,” she’d said hotly. “Then hurry up and go. I can’t wait.”
Those were the words he’d wanted to hear, yet at the same time, the words that broke his heart.
“I couldn’t bear it,” she said now, back in the present. “I knew I couldn’t go through that again. I know it was selfish to want you to give it up, but I didn’t think I could live with the fear of losing you.”
But she’d lost him anyway. What an idiot he’d been back then. But they’d both been grappling with shock at what had happened. He’d been a self-pitying fool. All he could see ahead of them was months of physiotherapy and the distinct possibility that life as he knew it would have to change and he had a partner who seemed hell bent in pushing him into change he didn’t want to contemplate.
If he’d agreed to give up the RNLI, it would have felt like giving up on his life as he knew it. They’d warned him he may never walk again and he’d been determined to prove them wrong, but part of him, a very loud, insistent part kept asking, “What if?”
And now he saw it from her aspect where the only thing she could see in their future was a vision of herself at his graveside with the ghosts of the children they would never have. They’d both been struggling with feelings neither of them knew how to handle and instead of it bringing them together, it had blown them apart.
“I should have been more understanding,” he said. “I don’t think I once considered the effect it all had on you. Not the immediate effect anyway.”
“And what was I thinking?” she said. “Laying the law down about your future when you were struggling to get out of that wheelchair? I had no right.”
He pulled
her closer and there was a short silence before she pulled away.
“What a night,” she said. “How did I end up in your bed?”
“You don’t remember falling asleep in the bath.”
“Did I?”
“I woke you up. You put yourself to bed, but I don’t think you were really with it.”
“Right,” she said, chewing the inside of her cheek. She remembered having a nightmare about finding Georgie on the beach and a violent shudder shook her body. It had been horrible. So vivid.
She remembered Bram coming in and holding her. Then another nightmare. The whole night was a confused mess.
“You stayed with me?” she said.
“I couldn’t leave you. The nightmares…”
“No, of course not,” she smiled nervously. “You couldn’t have woken me up and sent me home?”
“An elephant could have jumped in the bed with you and you’d have slept through,” he said. “You were well and truly out of it. I put some dressings on your scratches and grazes.”
“Thank you.”
“Would you like me to go?”
“I think that would be best.”
The nightmare. The first one. It was still there. Still in her head. It hadn’t been Georgie they’d found on the beach, but it could have been. And then she saw him again, as vivid as if she was still holding him in her arms. That poor little boy.
“Do you feel okay?” he said. “You keep shivering.”
“I can’t stop thinking about…”
“I know,” he said and once again he drew her into his embrace. This time she was wide awake as she snuggled into him.
He bent his head and kissed her. It was meant to be a soft, brief, kiss of reassurance, but her lips parted with a soft sigh and the kiss became deeper. He held back, almost expecting her to start hitting him again, but she wound her arms round him and pulled him closer.
“Don’t leave me, Bram,” she murmured. “Don’t let me go to sleep again.”
“I’m here,” he said. “For as long as you want me. I’m here.”
Dangerous Love Page 9