by Peggy Webb
“And wouldn’t you?”
“No. I love Pippa. I always have. I pretended I didn’t—who did I think I was fooling?”
“I think you fooled her,” Claudia said.
Before her eyes his face changed, becoming older. “It’s my own fault, isn’t it?” he said slowly. “I made her think the worst of me. Why should she think anything else? I even ran away now. I didn’t mean to. I wanted to come back quickly, but I lost track of time, and now she’s gone.” He closed his eyes. “Tell me some more about when you got here. What happened?”
“I drove her over to your parents to collect Josie, and then to the airport. Frank and Elly were there, and they all caught the night flight to London. Then I came back here to wait for you.”
“I called,” he said, wishing his brain wasn’t so fuzzy. “There was no answer.”
“I was probably still out seeing them off.”
“Josie must have wondered why I wasn’t there to say goodbye, poor little kid. Does she know how ill her mother is?”
“No. Pippa couldn’t risk telling her before she told you, in case she let it out. Besides, I don’t think she wanted anything to spoil Josie’s time here. I did suggest that she should delay leaving because I didn’t like the way she looked. I don’t think the flight will be good for her. But she was adamant she wanted to get away.”
“Away from me,” he said bitterly. “I thought I had a chance to put things right.”
Claudia’s face was sympathetic, but her words were firm. “Luke, face it. You thought you could put things right for yourself. But you’ve got to put them right for her.”
“I’ve been a total jerk, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” Claudia said simply. “But at least you have the grace to see that you’re a jerk. Which means that you’re a redeemable jerk.”
“Thanks for that small comfort,” he said wryly. “I think I’ll have a shower.”
The shower cleared his brain slightly, but a clear view of things didn’t make them look any better. He went to his bedroom to find clean clothes, and stopped at what he saw on the pillow. It was an envelope bearing his name in Pippa’s unmistakable handwriting.
He’d never been a coward before but he found he was one now. He would do anything rather than read that letter with its message of finality. He would find her first, explain, ask her forgiveness. Then he would read the letter.
Even as these wild thoughts rushed through his brain he was opening the envelope with shaking hands. Pippa had written:
My darling Luke,
You were right, I should have told you from the start. I always knew it. But, you see, I didn’t expect anything that happened. I thought it was all over between us, certainly on your side. I never thought you could love me again, but you did, and I suppose I played you a shabby trick in letting you plan for a future that I knew might never happen. I kept meaning to tell you and putting it off. Try to forgive me.
My main concern has always been Josie. She loves you, and I want you to be part of her life, whether I’m there or not. I’ve named Frank as her guardian, but you can see plenty of her. I shall make him promise that, and he’s a man of his word.
But please, please Luke, if it comes to the worst, don’t fight over her. Josie loves you, but she loves Frank and Elly, too, and if you fight it will make her unhappy. Poor little thing, she’ll have enough to cope with.
Goodbye, my dearest. Thank you for the gifts you gave me. Josie first, but oh, so many other wonderful things. If we don’t see each other again, don’t remember the unkind things I said to you. I didn’t mean them. I’ve always loved you for what you were, and not a different kind of man that you might have been. And I always will.
Pippa.
There was something small and hard in the envelope. He tipped it out and found himself holding the diamond ring he’d given her at Montecito, long ago, in another life.
He sat and stared at the letter and the ring, feeling his whole body grow cold with fear, until he was so paralyzed that he thought he might never move again.
When he finally managed it he reached stiffly for the phone and called the guest house in London. But the phone was answered by a grumpy new resident who knew nothing except that nobody was where they should be. He hung up, still dazed, and when Claudia brought him some more coffee he drank it mechanically.
“You’d better try to get some sleep,” Claudia said.
“No, I’m getting the next flight to England.”
“I’ve already booked you on the eight o’clock flight this evening. That’s the first that had a seat free. Go to bed and I’ll wake you in time.”
“You’re the best friend a man ever had.”
She delivered him to LAX that night, and he caught the 8 p.m. flight to London Heathrow. It lasted eleven hours and he was awake for every moment, looking out of the tiny window at the darkness, with his mind playing tricks, for she seemed to be there.
Sometimes she was as he’d first seen her at eighteen in her outrageous clothes and the attitude to match. But then he saw her as she’d been in the past few days, apparently happy but concealing her secret, because he wasn’t man enough to share it. Often she would be wearing the glorious silk robe Claudia had given her, and that would hurt him. “You should have only the best,” he’d said, but he hadn’t given her the best. By now she ought to have a wardrobe full of silk, given by the man who loved her.
He wished he could escape the night that offered such unbearable visions, and eventually he was lucky. Because London was eight hours ahead of Los Angeles, he was flying forward in time, and after barely a couple of hours of darkness, he saw the first glint of dawn.
But this was almost worse, because he began to reread her letter, and phrases stood out with new and hideous meanings.
“I’ve always loved you for what you were, and not a different kind of man that you might have been.”
She had always known that he would let her down, and accepted it, and forgiven him. That was what she meant. She’d loved him as a woman loves a child, making allowances, asking nothing. And that, when you came right down to it, was the kind of love he’d always preferred. He put the letter away quickly, wondering if the flight would never end.
At last they landed. It was early afternoon, although his inner clock said dawn. With only one piece of hand luggage he got through the lines quickly. Heathrow had changed since he’d left it eleven years earlier, yet not so much that he couldn’t identify the spot where he’d held Pippa for the last time. She’d smiled and teased him about flirting with some beauty on the flight, and he’d thought she didn’t care. Now he wondered how he could have been so blind.
Blind and stupid! Blind and stupid!
And there was what looked like the very place where he’d retraced his steps to the gate, hoping to find her there still, and been so desolate that she was gone. And, fool that he was, he’d shrugged his hurt aside and said if that was how she felt, who needed her? And all the time he had needed her, but been too proud to say so, and now it might be too late.
He changed some money and found a taxi, thrusting several large bills into the hands of the startled driver and telling him to “Move it!” Even so it seemed to take eons to cover the twenty miles to London, and then a few more while they crawled through traffic jams to the center. But at last he was turning the old familiar corner, stopping outside the guest house.
The place looked different, he thought, pushing open the glass door. Smartened up out of all recognition. A stocky young woman in jeans came down the stairs, smiling a welcome.
“Pippa,” he said tensely. “Where is she?”
“In hospital,” the young woman said. “She flew back from America yesterday and they took her straight there. She was in a bad way.”
A cold hand clutched him. “Her operation? She’s had it?”
“No, they had to stabilize her first. They were hoping to do it this afternoon, I think.”
“Where?”
&n
bsp; “The Matthews Infirmary. It’s—”
“I know it, thanks.” It was where all the medical students came from. Luke was out of the door and running. There might still be time to see her first. There had to be. Because if not—
Because if not, she might die without ever knowing how much he loved her. And for that he would never forgive himself as long as he lived.
Chapter Twelve
At the infirmary he gave Pippa’s name to the receptionist.
“On the eighth floor,” she said. “But I’m telling you what I’ve told all the others. You can’t go in, and it’s going to be a long wait.”
“All the others?”
“Ms. Davis seems to have a lot of friends.”
The ride up was long enough for him to realize he was walking into the unknown. Josie had known nothing, but she would have been told by now, and some of it would have come from Frank. He wondered if his daughter hated him. For himself, he could bear that burden, as deserved. But when he thought of what it would do to her, the world seemed to grow dark.
As soon as he stepped out of the lift he saw what the receptionist had meant. A crowd had gathered in the corridor. Luke counted seven before he identified Frank, Elly and—
“Josie!”
“Daddy!” The little girl’s shriek split the air, and the next moment she’d evaded Frank’s detaining hand to dash down the corridor straight into Luke’s waiting arms.
“I knew you’d come,” she said frantically. “Uncle Frank said you wouldn’t. He said you were horrid to Mommy and you’d helped make her sick and you’d never really loved her and—”
Luke’s eyes met Frank’s over Josie’s head. “You’ve been saying a lot of things, Frank,” he said coldly. “Most of them you had no right to say.”
“And you have no right to be here,” Frank said in a tight voice. “How dare you come barging in, upsetting the child—”
“I reckon she’d be a sight more upset if I hadn’t come.”
“You’re nothing here. If Pippa had wanted you, she’d have stayed with you.”
“We’ll talk about this some other time,” Luke said, giving him a warning glance. “For the moment I’d like to know how she is.”
Elly had come to join them. “They’re operating. It’s been a long job, but they should be through quite soon.”
The others drifted across and introduced themselves. They were the current crop of house guests. Luke picked up Harry, Jake, Davina, and his mind refused to take in any more. They regarded him without condemnation, but with a lot of curiosity.
Josie kept a tight hold on Luke’s hand to make him sit beside her. “Daddy, why did Mommy leave like that? Were you horrid to her?”
“Tell her everything, if you dare,” Frank jeered.
“All right, I will. Yes, darling, Mommy and I did have a quarrel, and it was my fault.” A tremor shook him. “All my fault. I came to tell her I’m sorry.”
“But why? What did you do?”
“When I found out that she was ill, I didn’t understand why she hadn’t confided in me. I blamed her.”
Josie’s eyes filled with tears. “Me, too. Oh Daddy, I got mad at her on the plane. I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t help it. And when we landed she collapsed, and it’s all my fault—” She burst into sobs.
Luke gathered her into his arms. “It’s not your fault, darling. It’s mine if anyone’s. She should have told both of us, but you see, Mommy’s a very strong person. She tends to shoulder all the burdens herself, so that other people can be happy—” his voice wavered “—and then you find out that she’s been bearing things alone, and you feel kind of hurt that she didn’t share it with you. But you have to understand—you have to understand—that she doesn’t mean…” His voice ran down. He tried to hide his despair from the child, but he couldn’t do it, and his head sank until it was resting against hers.
They didn’t move after that. Nor did anyone else go near the man and the child, enclosed in their own world, needing only each other.
Nobody knew how many hours passed before there was a noise at the end of the corridor as the doors were opened so that a bed could be wheeled through. It was accompanied by a doctor and two nurses, one of whom was holding a drip that was connected to the woman lying on the bed. Everybody stood up tensely to watch the little procession approach and turn into the room opposite. Luke caught the barest glimpse of Pippa’s face as she passed, and felt his daughter’s hand seek his.
The doctor faced them. “She’s not as strong as I’d like, but she’s holding on. The next few hours will be vital.”
“But she’s going to live?” came Frank’s voice. “Surely you can say that much?”
The doctor hesitated. “It’s too soon to make any promises.”
“I want to see Mommy,” Josie said.
“In a few minutes,” the doctor said, “when they’ve finished settling her. Just you and one other person—perhaps the next of kin—”
“I’m her next of kin,” Frank said through gritted teeth, “since she isn’t married.”
Luke flinched, but he didn’t retaliate, because into his head had come the memory of Pippa’s words in the letter. If you fight with Frank it will make her unhappy…
“Daddy—” Josie reached for him, but he forced himself to step back.
“I’ll wait,” he said.
“No,” Elly said, intervening. “You’re the one she wants.” She laid a gentle hand on her husband’s arm, silencing his protest.
Hand in hand, father and daughter slipped into Pippa’s room, and Luke couldn’t have said which of them was clinging to the other more desperately for comfort. The sight of Pippa horrified him. She lay as still as death, her eyes closed, her face the color of parchment. On each side she was attached to drips or machinery that seemed to overwhelm her. Like any creature that lived mainly through its senses Luke recoiled from illness. But now all he could think of was how small and frail she looked and how he would have liked to gather her protectively in his arms. But he couldn’t.
“Can we touch her?” he asked at last.
“Better not,” advised one of the nurses.
“What are her chances?”
“Her color’s reasonably good, and she’s stable. That’s really all we can say for the moment. I think you should go now.”
Outside in the corridor Luke repeated the nurse’s words to everyone, but speaking mainly to Frank, keeping his voice gentle, trying not to react to the open dislike on the other man’s face.
Everyone settled down for a long wait. Somebody went for coffee and sandwiches. A silence fell. The clock ticked on as the light faded into darkness. Josie was allowed back in to see her mother.
“Daddy—”
“Take your uncle Frank, honey,” he said. “He loves her, too.”
He had to force the words out. Only the conviction that he was doing what Pippa would have wanted made it possible. Frank regarded him with suspicion and went on into the room.
“That was very nice of you,” Elly said when Frank and Josie had gone.
“It’s Pippa, she—” He couldn’t say any more, but he suddenly noticed how kind Elly’s eyes were. He wondered why he’d never seen it before, and felt ashamed that he’d ever seen her as a person to make fun of. On impulse he pulled Pippa’s letter out. “She wouldn’t mind my showing you this.”
He pointed to the end of the letter where Pippa had written, “Josie loves you, but she loves Frank and Elly, too, and if you fight it will make her unhappy.”
“Thank you,” she said, giving it back to him. “I’ll try to make Frank understand.”
Josie slipped out and came to Luke. “She’s just the same,” she said.
“No sign of waking up?”
“No, they say she won’t tonight, because she’s being kept under heavy sedation. They’ll start lifting it tomorrow.”
“They say we might as well go home for the night,” Frank said.
“That’s a good i
dea,” Jake observed. “Nothing is going to happen for hours. The house is just around the corner. Harry will stay here, just in case, and if anything looks like it’s happening he’ll call and we can be back in five minutes.” He looked at Luke. “Frank and Elly are staying at the guest house. Have you got somewhere?”
“I never thought of it.”
“Then you’d better come with us.”
“Thanks, but I’m staying right here,” he said firmly.
Frank put an arm about Josie. “Come along, darling,” he said.
But Josie shook her head. “I want to stay with Daddy.”
“It’s very late and you ought to go to bed,” Frank said firmly. “Come along now.”
Josie’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked at Luke, silently pleading.
Please, please Luke…don’t fight over her.
He didn’t know where the voice had come from. He could almost have sworn it was an external sound, but perhaps it had only echoed in his heart. Whatever the truth, it told him what he must do.
“On second thought, I’m going back to the guest house,” he said. He turned to Frank and Elly. “Maybe we all need to be together.”
It felt strange to be returning after all these years. The inside had been made over to look cheerful and modern, but basically it was the same place where he and Pippa had lived and loved, and lost each other.
Susan, Pippa’s assistant, was in charge now. She frowned when she saw Luke. “I’m afraid it’s full up.”
“What about the room just down the corridor?” Luke asked.
“That’s a storeroom.”
“Can I see it?”
“But it’s full of sheets and pillows,” she insisted.
“I’d still like to see it.”
He found himself counting the steps down the passage to the room that had once been his and Pippa’s. There were exactly eight if you took large strides, or twelve if you took short running steps because you were trying to undress each other at the same time.
The room came as a shock. The walls were now lined with deep shelves on which were the house supplies, bedding, tins of food, detergent. The ironing board leaned against the wall, and a large sack of potatoes stood in a corner. Everywhere he looked he saw neatness and order.