The Affair

by Bunty Avieson

  ‘It’s going to be okay, Mrs Wilde, we’re just going to roll you onto this stretcher and take you in the ambulance to the hospital.’

  Patty didn’t seem distressed. She kept mumbling but appeared completely unaware of what was going on around her.

  The men had carried the stretcher out to the ambulance and driven up the driveway with the red light flashing but no siren. Frederick travelled in the back of the ambulance with Patty. They drove to Singleton Hospital, then Patty was flown by emergency helicopter to the John Hunter Hospital in Newcastle.

  Amanda had taken the boys home while James, Nina and Mark had followed the ambulance, then driven the 35 minutes to Newcastle. James took the wheel with Mark sitting tersely in the front seat and Nina in the back. Very little was said by any of them. There hadn’t been anything to say. They were all numb.

  Dr Barnes, the new young resident doctor, was asleep at his home nearby when the call came in. He arrived at John Hunter Hospital at the same time as Patty. After examining her he came out to talk to the family. He told them he thought she had suffered a stroke.

  ‘What was she like beforehand?’ he asked. ‘In the hours preceding the collapse?’

  They all thought back to dinner. It seemed such a long time ago. Patty had been so happy to have all her family around her.

  ‘Did she show any signs of blurred speech or complain of a headache or tingling in her fingers? Did she complain of feeling unwell? Anything like that?’

  They all shook their heads.

  ‘She was pretty happy,’ said Mark. ‘But then we had some rather … er … bad news.’ He searched for the right words. ‘It was some bad family news. It came as a bit of a shock.’

  He said it evenly, looking straight at the doctor and not at James. No-one looked at James. They didn’t have to. James felt the knife twist in his stomach.

  The doctor pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘Why I am asking about any other physical symptoms is that it could tell me whether she suffered the stroke earlier and this was a secondary attack or a worsening of the original symptoms.’

  The family looked at each other, remembering their own version of the dinner. They had all been consumed with their own thoughts and realised how unaware they had been of Patty.

  ‘I didn’t notice anything,’ said Frederick. ‘Did any of you?’

  The three shook their heads.

  ‘She seemed bright and relaxed,’ said Nina. ‘As far as I could tell.’

  James and Mark both agreed.

  ‘She cooked dinner, seemed happy. She didn’t give any indication there was anything wrong,’ said Mark.

  The doctor seemed satisfied. ‘Well, that’s a good sign. You got her here pretty quickly. The long-term damage could be minimal. We’ll know soon enough.’ He suggested they go home and come back in the morning. Frederick preferred to stay, planting himself in a chair pulled up to Patty’s bedside. The night nurses hadn’t minded, bringing him a cup of tea, pillows and a blanket, without Frederick really being aware they were there.

  When James, Nina and Mark said goodbye to Patty, she had looked pale and small against the white hospital linen with an intravenous drip taped to her arm. James had stood awkwardly by his father, wanting to express some of the tumultuous feelings in his heart, but Frederick had been almost oblivious to his presence. Nina took James by the hand and gently led him away. They dropped Mark at his home in Broke and pulled into the driveway of Wilde Wines Estate just after 3 am.

  It felt like they had been gone for days.

  When finally they lay together under the hand-crocheted bedspread in James’s old bedroom they didn’t sleep. Nina spooned her body around James’s, stroking his arms and his hair. He didn’t respond. He was almost catatonic, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He lay in the bed, absorbing her warmth, but with one thought reverberating around his frozen brain. ‘Oh my God, I’ve killed my mother.’

  The words spun around in time with the rhythm of Nina’s caresses.

  It wasn’t long till light started to creep through the curtains and the new day dawned.

  *

  The family met Dr Barnes and his boss Dr Wilson, the consultant neuro-registrar, in the reception area of the hospital. Dr Wilson was a no-nonsense kind of man in his early fifties. He had an efficient manner that seemed to forestall any emotion. He was here to give the facts as he saw them and that was it. He looked around at each of them, Mark and Amanda, James and Nina and, standing slightly apart and looking like he had slept in his clothes, Frederick.

  Dr Wilson addressed himself directly to Frederick, looking him straight in the eye. Frederick took to him immediately.

  ‘Your wife has suffered a stroke,’ he said without preamble. ‘A blood clot has blocked the blood flow somewhere in her brain. We will know the exact region after a CAT scan. A stroke is like an assault on the brain. The attack is over, has passed, but we can’t tell what damage has been done until the associated swelling of the brain has gone down. The first 24 to 48 hours are crucial but it will be six to eight weeks before we know exactly how much residual damage there will be.’

  The family absorbed this information. It sounded to them like confusing jargon and didn’t really tell them what they needed to know.

  Mark voiced their thoughts. ‘Is she going to be okay?’

  Dr Wilson tried to explain complicated medical information as simply and easily as he could but it was always hard for people to understand, particularly when they were upset and non-medically trained, like the five people looking at him.

  He was a patient man. He tried again.

  ‘A stroke can cause instant death or pass by leaving no residual damage. If you put that on a scale, you would have to say that Mrs Wilde is at the good end. She is conscious. Her blood pressure is stable. All her vital signs are good. She is however a little disoriented with some slurring of her speech. This may or may not improve with time. We will be looking for some improvement of that over the next 48 hours, though it will take six to eight weeks for the swelling to reduce completely and only then will we really know the full extent of damage. A CAT scan will tell us more. She is scheduled to have that later today.’

  Dr Wilson paused. He thought it was best if the family asked the questions. Providing lots of medical detail usually just confused and further distressed them. In his experience they would ask as and when they needed to know.

  ‘Can we see her?’ asked James.

  ‘Of course. But she needs lots of rest so please keep it to a minimum. Don’t stay too long and please try not to get her excited.’ Dr Wilson sensed his role was finished for the minute and excused himself.

  As soon as he had gone Dr Barnes assumed charge and repeated his boss’s instructions. ‘Please don’t tire her or get her overexcited,’ he said, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose out of nervous habit. It was his way of reasserting his authority.

  The family ignored him. Amanda and Nina took a seat in the waiting room while the men went in. The two women sat in plastic stackable chairs staring at each other.

  ‘What was James thinking …?’ started Amanda.

  Nina cut her off. ‘Don’t! Now is not the time,’ she said coldly.

  ‘No,’ agreed Amanda and burst into tears. She looked completely bereft, like a little girl. Nina really didn’t like her but found it impossible to ignore someone so clearly in anguish. Almost in spite of herself she leaned over to comfort her.

  ‘I couldn’t bear it if she … Patty … if she …’ sobbed Amanda. She couldn’t finish the thought. It was too horrific to put into words. She clung to Nina, tears splashing down her face and onto Nina’s bare legs. Nina watched them slide down her calf.

  She was surprised by the other woman’s concern for her mother-in-law. This was a side to Amanda she had not seen before. Nina found a clean tissue in her handbag and passed it to her.

  ‘She looked so still lying there on the floor,’ sobbed Amanda.

  Nina’s own eyes filled with
tears.

  *

  Patty was dozing as the men filed silently into her room. Frederick returned to his spot in the armchair pulled up beside Patty’s head and his sons stood around the bed. No-one spoke. Patty’s skin looked grey against the white sheets. Frederick took her hand, stroking her wrist and she stirred, her eyes flickering open. She looked up at Frederick and smiled.

  ‘How are you, my darling?’ Frederick spoke softly and tenderly to his wife.

  When Patty tried to speak unintelligible sounds came out and she looked surprised.

  Frederick put his fingers to her lips. ‘Ssssh, my darling. You need to sleep.’

  Patty seemed to think about this, her eyes blinking. She looked confused and worried, then her face relaxed. She looked slowly around the bed, smiling with recognition at each son.

  James gave a little wave. ‘Hi Mum,’ he said.

  Patty reached her hand out to him and he took it. Then she closed her eyes again, clearly exhausted by the effort.

  They stood there watching her and looking at each other. No-one seemed to want to make a move to leave.

  ‘Go home, Dad,’ said Mark. ‘Have a shower. I’ll stay.’

  Frederick’s face crumpled. James didn’t think he had ever seen him look so old. He put his arm under his elbow.

  ‘Mark’s right. Come on, Dad. We’ll take you home.’

  Frederick didn’t put up a fight. He felt numb. He allowed James to lead him out of the room.

  The world outside the hospital seemed surreal. To everybody else it was Monday morning and there was business to be done, lives to be organised. James, Frederick and Nina moved through the bustling community feeling a world apart. They spoke little on the drive home. James kept checking his father in the rear vision mirror, wondering what he was thinking and whether there was something he could say. Frederick just looked out the window. Once inside the house he turned to his son.

  ‘We need to talk.’ He stared at James for a moment, then, with a sigh, lowered his eyes. ‘But not right now.’ He looked drained. The fire and passion of the previous evening was gone. Frederick Wilde didn’t have a spark of life in him. He walked slowly up the stairs, as if every step pained him.

  *

  Nina and James sat together in the kitchen.

  ‘Do you want to tell me about this Lloyd’s business?’ asked Nina.

  James shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘No.’

  They sat silently for a moment.

  James reached for Nina’s hand. ‘Just don’t leave me,’ he whispered, grasping her fingers. His face showed his panic.

  Nina felt the tears slide down her cheeks. They were part pity, part empathy and part jolting recognition.

  She felt her life recently had been like a hologram, or one of those tricky three-dimensional images she remembered from fun fair postcards as a child. If she tilted the image it showed a completely different picture – the eye that was open would wink if she shifted it ever so slightly. As a child she had marvelled that another picture was there, hidden, like some kind of parallel universe.

  The moment that James reached out for her, so humble and vulnerable, needing her in the midst of the calamity, and clearly scared he would lose her, the picture Nina had of her life shifted. In that moment she saw everything differently. James, herself, their marriage.

  At that moment the bond between Nina and Leo snapped, although she was unaware of it at the time. She was all consumed with worry for James. She sat herself sideways on his lap, wrapped her arms around his slumped shoulders and gently rocked him.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, my love.’ As her tears fell into his hair she continued to rock him, telling him she loved him. ‘We’re in this together. For better or worse. I don’t care where we live or what we do as long as I’m with you.’

  *

  Nina telephoned her office to say she wouldn’t be in for the rest of the week. She was tempted to tell them that she would never be back and what they could do with their lousy job but held herself in check. She and James may need that income. Lots of things were suddenly very uncertain.

  James telephoned Felix to say he would be out of town for a while too. He explained that his mother had suffered a sudden stroke. Felix was shocked – Patty seemed such a healthy, fit woman. As James talked, Felix found himself worrying about his own mother and deciding it was far too long since he had spoken with her.

  ‘That’s terrible news, James. Please give my best to your mother and father.’

  Felix wondered if James had spoken to Frederick yet about the vineyard. He assumed he would not have had a chance. Patty’s stroke would have pushed any such conversations aside.

  ‘James, I’m sure this isn’t the time to talk to you about Lloyd’s but you should at least know that I think I may have a solution for you. I may have found a way to stop Lloyd’s selling the winery out from under you.’

  ‘I’m listening, Felix …’

  For weeks Felix had been working on negotiating a final settlement with the Lloyd’s lawyers for himself and each of his clients. He considered the sum was reasonable under the circumstances. If each client accepted the final figure, that would be the end of it for them. They could pay the sum and move on. If they chose not to, preferring to fight it out in the British courts, their unlimited liability clause would leave them susceptible to claims by Lloyd’s for many more years to come.

  To sort out the best deal for each of his clients, Felix had spent many late nights poring over their individual portfolios. Immersed in piles of paperwork, he had come up with some clever ideas. The best of them involved Wilde Wines.

  ‘I may be able to form a consortium of investors or I may have a client in a position to buy out your debt. I just need a few days.’

  James felt the faint stirrings of hope. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Yes. I have a few clients that it may appeal to. Wineries are seen as glamorous and exciting and sophisticated. A lot more interesting than pig-farming or building cement factories, let me tell you. I have a couple of people who may be interested, which could mean setting up a new business structure for the winery, or perhaps it would suit an individual investor. I need to look into it further.’

  Felix had a couple of questions for James. They were specific and private but James didn’t mind revealing such things to his friend. He lowered his voice to respond, unsure where in the house Frederick may be.

  ‘Okay, James, leave it with me. Wilde Wines is in good shape and there just may be a way to keep it away from Lloyd’s. I need to make some calls, see some people and then I’ll come back to you.’

  ‘Oh, Felix, we could do with some good news up here right now.’

  ‘Have you told your father about Lloyd’s?’ asked Felix.

  James looked through the kitchen window, across the vineyards. He spoke very quietly. ‘I told them all. Last night. I told them, then Mum …’ James stopped, remembering the sight of his mother lying in a heap by his father’s feet.

  ‘Oh God, James. I’m so sorry. You poor bastard.’

  ‘Yeah. It couldn’t be worse. Please do what you can.’

  *

  Felix was determined. He cancelled all his appointments for the day, then took a pile of files from his briefcase and his filing cabinet and lay them on his desk. He loosened his tie, and lined up his calculator, a couple of freshly sharpened pencils and a foolscap pad. Then he set about methodically working through the files.

  The rest of the day he stayed hunched over his desk. He checked through his latest batch of correspondence from Lloyd’s. He made lots of phone calls, speaking to a couple of colleagues, the agents for Lloyd’s who he was getting to know quite well, their lawyers, his own lawyers, a judge of the Industrial Commission who was a member of his club and finally a wine journalist he once dated to chat about the current state of the Australian wine industry, and one label in particular.

  Felix wanted to help
the Wilde family but he was a completely honourable man. He wouldn’t do anything illegal nor would he help them at the expense of another client. Before he would even put the proposal forward he needed to assure himself that Wilde Wines would be a smart and profitable investment.

  Finally, at 4.14 pm, he was satisfied.

  *

  Over the next few days life settled into a strange kind of routine for the Wilde family. Someone was always by Patty’s side while the rest of the family came and went from the vineyard, trying to go about their usual duties, all the while under a dreadful unspoken cloud. It was up to Frederick to broach the conversation with James and, until he did, the others were helpless.

  Nina drove back to the Elizabeth Bay apartment and collected clean clothes for herself and James. It took her two hours to reach the apartment. She stayed twenty minutes, piling things into a suitcase, then drove the two hours back again. She was at the hospital in time to collect James just as Frederick came to take over with Patty.

  Frederick had managed to avoid being alone with his younger son, though they were living under the same roof. Every ounce of everybody’s attention was directed towards Patty.

  On the afternoon of the first day after her stroke, Patty’s speech had started to become recognisable, if a little slurred, and she was responding well to all the tasks the staff gave her – squeezing a ball, answering their simple questions about who she was and what year it was, and having her pulse and blood pressure taken every hour. By the next day she was explaining to the doctor about the woolly feeling in her head. Her blood pressure showed every sign of dropping. She was able to express herself, and articulate her emotions. All good signs, Dr Wilson assured the family on his next visit to the hospital a few days later.

  She still had trouble articulating certain sounds. Dr Wilson said that may or may not improve. Only time would tell. And she appeared to have no recollection of the events leading up to her collapse. She was surprised to see James and Nina. She had no idea they were in the Hunter Valley.