‘Take me to this address, please. Just as quickly as you can.’
At Charles de Gaulle airport, just after nine the following morning, Georgia was climbing into the back of a taxi and handing the driver the slip of paper where she’d written the name and address of the hospital. Normally, she didn’t do a great deal of praying, but she was praying now with every fibre of her being.
Dear Lord, don’t let him die. Please make him pull through.
Last night, Nicole had told her about the bomb. She’d just got back from visiting Jean-Claude at the hospital when she’d answered Georgia’s final, frantic call.
‘Someone planted it under his car. They think it was Duval or one of his men. Oh, Georgia...how could anyone want to kill Papa?’
‘But he’s not dead, is he?’ Georgia had felt faint just at the thought. ‘You said he was in hospital? He is still alive?’
Nicole could scarcely speak for weeping. ‘Yes, thank God, he is. But he’s terribly badly hurt. He’s been in a coma since Sunday. The doctors say it doesn’t look good. I...’ She’d been unable to finish as she’d broken down in sobs.
That was when Georgia had made up her mind.
‘I’m coming over,’ she’d told Nicole. She and Nicole, she suspected, needed each other rather badly right now. And, besides, she couldn’t stay in Bath. She had to be beside Jean-Claude.
As the taxi headed towards the hospital, Georgia stared sightlessly ahead. Thank heavens she’d seen the light and decided to phone. How awful if she’d remained in miserable ignorance in Bath, which was what had so very nearly happened. If it hadn’t been for that car triggering something in her brain, she might never have known that Jean-Claude was fighting for his life.
She’d relived that moment of revelation at least a thousand times. It had felt as though a light had been switched on inside her head. Instantly, in a flash, everything had been clear.
Jean-Claude would not have lied to her. That wasn’t the sort of man he was. She’d been judging him unfairly, according to the image she’d once had of him. But she knew him better than to think that way now. She knew he was a good and honourable man. And the only possible reason why he’d failed to get in touch with her had to be because something had happened.
She’d felt ashamed when she’d realised that, and she still felt ashamed now. He deserved her trust and faith and she’d failed to give him either. She’d been too damned busy feeling sorry for herself to think clearly.
But she was thinking clearly now. As the taxi swung between the hospital gates and set her down outside the main entrance, she was aware of a sure, steely strength pouring through her.
I’ll be there for you, my love, she vowed silently. Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you. And if one person’s love can help another person heal, then with all the love that’s in my heart there’s no doubt that you’ll come through this.
Clutching her newly repacked holdall, she made her way through the maze of corridors that led to the private room where Nicole had told her he was being looked after. At the door, she paused and took a moment to prepare herself, then, squaring her shoulders, she raised her hand to knock. But at that moment the door opened and a nurse appeared.
‘Mademoiselle Georgia?’ She looked into Georgia’s pale, tight face. Then she smiled a kind smile as Georgia nodded in response. ‘You can go in and see him,’ she continued in good English. ‘His daughter told me you were coming.’
As Georgia was about to step past her, she laid a light hand on her arm. ‘He won’t recognise you, of course. He’s still unconscious. I’m afraid there’s been no improvement in his condition.’
Georgia nodded. ‘Yes, I know.’ She smiled a quick acknowledgement. Then she took a deep breath and walked into the room.
It could have been worse. At least there was that to be grateful for. The bed in which he lay, as pale and still as a corpse, was surrounded by machines and monitors and drips, all of which, of course, she’d been prepared for. She couldn’t see his damaged leg—which Nicole had told her about—though she could see that one hand was bound with bandages, and there was also a bandage on one side of his face. But he was still in one piece. He had not been blown apart.
Doing her best to control her emotions, Georgia walked up to the edge of the bed.
‘Hello, Jean-Claude. It’s Georgia.’ She took his good hand in hers. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier, but I’m going to stay now till you’re better.’
There was a chair at the side of the bed. She lowered herself onto it, laying her shoulder bag and holdall at her feet.
She leaned towards him, still holding his hand. ‘I know you can’t answer, but maybe you can hear me, so I’m just going to sit here and talk to you for a while.’ She smiled a wry smile. ‘And, for once, you won’t be able to argue.’
For the next ten minutes or so she proceeded to tell him all that had happened since the last time she’d seen him. Her flight back to England, the arrival of her missing clothes, the terrible weather they’d been having in Bath and how Nicole had told her about the accident. She’d remembered reading somewhere that people in a coma could often hear and that talking to them could sometimes trigger them back to consciousness. So she’d keep on coming here and talking to him until she went hoarse.
The nurse reappeared, accompanied by a doctor.
‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave the room for a few minutes,’ she told her. ‘Dr Millais wants to see the patient in private. But you can come back later, when we’re finished.’
‘Very well.’ Georgia gathered up her things and went back outside. And that was when Nicole appeared at the end of the corridor.
They almost ran into each other’s arms and just stood there hugging one another for a moment. Nicole had obviously been crying. Her face was bruisedlooking and swollen, and her voice when she finally spoke was fractured and unsteady.
‘I’ve just been taking a break. I’ve been here all night. I had to have something to eat, so I went to the cafeteria. How is he?’ she asked hopefully. ‘Any improvement while I’ve been gone?’
Georgia shook her head. ‘The doctor’s with him now. Maybe he’ll be able to tell us something when he’s finished. Come on. Let’s sit down.’ She took Nicole by the hand and led her to the row of chairs behind them. The poor girl looked worn out. Literally swaying on her feet. She was going to have to keep an eye on Nicole as well as on Jean-Claude.
Dr Millais, when he finally emerged, told them there was no change, though Jean-Claude’s condition did appear to have stabilised a little.
‘He was lucky,’ he told Georgia. ‘Apparently, the bomb didn’t go off properly. If it had, there’s no doubt that he wouldn’t be here now.’
Georgia clung to that thought. Fate hadn’t meant him to die. So surely, if she kept believing, he’d pull through in the end?
For the rest of the day, Georgia continued her vigil by his bedside, accompanied for most of the time by Nicole, though she did manage to persuade the exhausted girl to go and lie down for a couple of hours. And, all the while, she talked to him, encouraging Nicole to do the same. She was absolutely determined that, somehow, she’d get through to him.
It was about six in the evening when the door suddenly opened and a slim, elegant, dark-haired woman appeared. Georgia guessed who she was even before Nicole got up to greet her. For she was exactly as she’d imagined her. She was Jean-Claude’s ex-wife.
Georgia watched her as she went to stand at the other side of the bed, pausing to cast Georgia a quick, polite smile. She was clearly deeply upset, her brow puckered, her body tense, and Georgia found herself unexpectedly moved.
The woman still cared for him. That was perfectly obvious. Whatever they’d been through in the past, there were no ill feelings. Their marriage had ended, but they hadn’t become enemies. Knowing this, Georgia found herself loving him even more.
The woman stayed for about an hour, but it wasn’t till after ten that Georgia and Nicole fin
ally left the hospital and took a taxi to the Champs Elysées fiat.
‘There’s no point in you staying the night,’ Dr Millais had told them. ‘His condition continues to be relatively stable and, naturally, if there’s any change, someone will get in touch with you immediately. I’d advise you both to go home and get some sleep.’
Neither of them had argued, though both were reluctant to leave. But it would have been crazy to insist on staying on. The two of them were physically and mentally exhausted.
‘I’ll sleep on the sofa in the study,’ Nicole decreed as they stepped through the front door and she switched on the light. ‘You can have the spare room. You’ll be more comfortable there.’
‘Are you sure? I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa.’ Georgia felt a little guilty about taking the bed.
But Nicole shook her head. ‘I insist,’ she told her. ‘You’ve come all the way from England and I’m so grateful to have you with me. I don’t think I could have got through this without you.’
Georgia hugged her. ‘I’m grateful to have you with me too.’
Less than fifteen minutes later, Georgia was slipping between the sheets, knowing she’d be asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. Though she did take a moment to put up a prayer for Jean-Claude.
Please look after him. Please give him strength. Whatever you do, don’t take him away.
She woke up two hours later to the telephone ringing.
In a cold sweat, she sat up, her heart hammering against her ribs. It was the hospital. Something was wrong. Jean-Claude was dying, after all.
She flung aside the bedclothes and started to stumble out of bed. But then, suddenly, she stopped. The phone wasn’t ringing at all. It was only a dream. It had all been in her head.
Closing her eyes, gasping for breath, she flopped back against the pillows. Oh, Lord, she prayed, I love him more than I can say and I’d give anything in the world if one day he could be mine. But, even if there can never be any future for the two of us, please save him. Please let him live. That’s the only thing that matters now.
The nurse was just tidying his bed when they arrived.
‘Bonjour,’ she greeted them. ‘I hope you had a good rest? The patient, I’m pleased to say, passed a very peaceful night. Dr Millais has just been to see him and his condition continues to be quite stable.’
There was no improvement, however. Jean-Claude still lay deep in his coma. But Georgia refused to be down-hearted as she took up her vigil at his bedside again. Eventually, he would come out of it. And, when he did, she’d be there.
They kept up the same routine as yesterday: watching the nurses as they came and went, leaving the room when the doctor arrived to do his tests, working hard at keeping up each other’s morale, taking turns to talk to Jean-Claude about whatever came into their heads.
It was mid-afternoon when Nicole suddenly said to Georgia, ‘I think I’d better go and call Maman. She told me she can’t make it to the hospital today and I said I’d give her a ring to let her know how Papa is.’
Georgia smiled at her and nodded. ‘OK. You go ahead. I’ll just carry on with the monologue.’
She reached for Jean-Claude’s hand as the door closed softly, her heart tightening with love as she looked into his pale face.
‘So, it’s just you and me again.’ Lightly, she stroked his fingers. ‘Do you remember the last time it was just you and me, the day I flew back to England? We had lunch at a little place not far from your fiat Le Chat Rouge, I think, was the name of it. Then we went for a walk by the riv...’
Her voice trailed off. Suddenly, she was holding her breath. Was it her imagination or had she just felt his hand move?
She leaned closer to him, her heart skittering. ‘Jean-Claude? Can you hear me?’
A moment that seemed like an eternity ticked by. Then his hand moved again, and this time she was sure of it
‘Jean-Claude?’ She swallowed hard, scarcely daring to breathe. And she was just on the point of saying his name again when his eyelids fluttered open and a pair of blue eyes looked at her.
Then, astonishing her, he spoke.
‘Le Chien Rouge,’ he said.
Georgia blinked at him. ‘What did you say?’ ‘That restaurant we went to...it’s called Le Chien Rouge, not Le Chat Rouge.’
Georgia didn’t say a thing. She was incapable of speech. She just stared at him in wonder, totally unaware of the tears of sheer joy that were pouring down her face.
‘Just another couple of days or so and they say I can be out of here, though I’m told I’m going to need crutches for a while. Never mind...I used to be pretty good on crutches. I broke a leg skiing years ago and mastered the art then.’
It was the following day and Jean-Claude was sitting up in bed, having just demolished a substantial three-course lunch. He looked transformed, his pallor gone, his eyes clear and bright. No one would have guessed to look at him now that only a matter of days ago he’d been at death’s door.
Georgia, who was seated at his bedside, smiled at him. ‘I’m sure you won’t be on crutches for long.’ Her eyes roamed his face. She’d never felt so much love before. Nor such happiness and contentment and sheer blissful relief. Her prayers had been answered. She could ask for nothing more.
‘I’ll bet you’ll be walking on your own in no time,’ she added. ‘In fact, considering your ability to confound the medical profession, it wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if you walked out of hospital on your own.’
‘You helped, you know.’ Suddenly, his expression had grown serious. He reached out for her hand and held it in his. ‘I could sense you were here. You and Nicole. And it made me struggle just that little bit harder to try and drag myself out of the dark abyss.’
He gazed deep into her eyes with a look that made her heart squeeze. ‘I’ll always be grateful to you. For as long as I live.’
Georgia was aware of the rush of warm colour to her cheeks. ‘I owed you,’ she said lightly, ‘after what you did for me.’ Though that, of course, had had nothing at all to do with it. What she’d done for him she’d done, purely and simply, out of love.
She frowned as a thought occurred to her, not for the first time. ‘I can’t help thinking that you mightn’t have got blown up in the first place if you hadn’t got mixed up with Duval on my behalf.’
‘Georgia, don’t ever believe that It couldn’t be more wrong. I was mixed up with Duval long before I even knew you.’ His tone was almost sharp. He frowned and squeezed her hand. ‘If anything, I’m the one who ought to be feeling guilty for bringing you over here and exposing you to that madman.’
His features seemed to stiffen. ‘I have a waking nightmare every time I think about how you might have been in the car with me. I must have been out of my mind to bring you here.’
‘You’re out of your mind now if you really, seriously think such things!’ Now it was Georgia’s turn to protest. ‘How could you have known he was going to plant a bomb? Nobody knew the man was that unhinged! So, for heaven’s sake, don’t start torturing yourself.’
She scowled a fierce scowl. ‘I know what you’re like. I know you like to feel that you’re always in control... Well, I’m sorry, Jean-Claude, but even you can’t control everything!’
It was at that moment that there was a discreet little tap on the door.
‘Come in, Nicole!’
Jean-Claude laughed as he called out. All morning, Nicole had been acting most tactfully, making regular excuses to leave the two of them alone together and never walking in on them without a tap on the door first.
Not, of course, that they’d been up to anything terribly shocking anyway, but all the same Georgia appreciated her thoughtfulness. She smiled at her now as she stepped into the room.
‘Did I hear raised voices?’ With a mock-accusing look, Nicole switched her gaze from one to the other. ‘Don’t tell me that you two were having your first quarrel?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid we were.’ Jean-Claude was
smiling. ‘Georgia’s just been making some rather serious accusations. For a start, she’s been suggesting that I’m less than omnipotent.’
‘She dared to say that?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid she did.’
‘Good.’ Nicole smiled. ‘I’m glad someone finally told you.’ She laughed and looked at Georgia. ‘You’ll never convince him, of course. That’s why I’ve never bothered to enlighten him.’ She shrugged. ‘Why waste breath? Let him live with his illusions.’
Jean-Claude was laughing again. Georgia watched him, her heart squeezing, knowing she would always remember this moment. There was so much warmth between them, so much love in the air around them, and she felt grateful and privileged just to be a part of it.
Georgia had decided she would have to go back on Sunday, the day before Jean-Claude was due to be discharged. She’d vowed to stay till he was better and, apart from his damaged leg, there really wasn’t a great deal wrong with him any more. His wounded hand was healing well and required only a light dressing now and the bandage had been removed from the cut on his face.
Needless to say, she didn’t want to go at all, but she really had to think of Kay and the shop. She’d phoned Kay every evening and Kay, of course, was coping brilliantly and kept urging her to stay just as long as she needed to. But she didn’t need to stay any more. It was time to go home.
On Sunday morning, Georgia went to see Jean-Claude alone. Nicole, who’d absolutely insisted that she wanted to accompany her to the airport in the afternoon, was making a flying visit to her mother. At lunchtime, however, she came to the Champs Elysées flat, where Georgia had returned to pick up her holdall, then the two of them took a taxi together to the hospital.
Georgia was feeling strange. It had been such an intensely emotional time. She seemed to have lived a dozen lifetimes in the past ten days. And now it was all over and she was going back to Bath and normality. The world had changed for ever and yet it hadn’t changed at all.
Waiting for Mr. Wonderful! Page 15