From The Moment I Saw Him ....

by MacDonald, Catherine

  “Do you really think he’s better?” I asked anxiously. The doctor was looking through his notes.

  “Well - temp’s down, pulse slower tonight as well, it’s going the right way. Another 24 hours of this antibiotic should see a big difference.” He smiled at me. “Just don’t get him too excited.”

  I stayed until the bell rang, and then rose reluctantly to go.

  “I’ll call Rosine again, and tell her what the doctor said,” I told him, gently disengaging myself from his grip. “Perhaps she’ll be able to come tomorrow.”

  “Eithne - you’ll come too? Please?”

  “Yes, of course I will. Whatever you want.”

  I kissed him on the lips for the first time.

  “I hope to God it’s not catching, Nick, after the way we’ve been snuggled up today.”

  A faint smile crossed his face.

  “You used to like to share things with me,” he whispered.

  “Well, I’ll pass on this. Goodnight Nick, dearest, sleep well.”

  The telephone rang with a difficult client the following afternoon, and I was delayed leaving for the hospital, so that when I finally entered the ward, I could see Rosine was already there.

  She greeted me warmly, and then we both turned to survey the figure in the bed.

  I thought Nick did look a little better, and was very relieved to see that his face, whilst still deathly pale, did not look quite so drawn and gaunt. He held out his arms to me, and I bent down to kiss him.

  Rosine had reseated herself in the chair, so I leaned a little awkwardly against the bed, while Nick snuggled against my chest. She smiled at us.

  “Honestly - you two,” she said. “Why can’t you just settle down together and be done with it?”

  This was not a conversation I wanted to pursue, so I smiled back, and said to Nick,

  “Are you feeling any better? Do they think the drug is working?”

  Rosine answered for him.

  “Yes, they think he’s turning the corner. Mother will be relieved, she’s been frantic, and spraining her ankle so badly was the last straw. She’s hopping about on crutches now, and hoping to get down to see him in a day or two.”

  I felt Nick’s forehead, it was definitely cooler than the day before.

  “Your poor hair,” I said, stroking it. “It’s all matted and greasy. When will you be able to take a shower?”

  “Dunno,” he said faintly. He closed his eyes, and let me hold him close.

  Rosine and I chatted. She had a little girl, Flora, as well as Charlie, Andrew was doing well in the City, and they had recently moved out to Surrey for the benefit of the children. An officious nurse came to take Nick’s pulse and temperature and shooed us away from the bed while she did so. Rosine said,

  “Andrew tells me that we know one of the directors at your agency, Ian Inglis. They were at Charterhouse together. He came to our wedding, I wonder if you met him then?”

  I felt my stomach turn over.

  “Yes, he’s a group director,” I murmured, going rather red. “But I think I only had eyes for Nick when you got married.”

  I knew I should say something, but the moment passed before I could screw up my courage.

  “And are you in a steady relationship with anyone, Eithne?”

  “No, nothing to speak of,” I lied breezily, wishing the nurse would hurry up. I wondered how long it would be before everything came out, and then I wondered whether, once he was better, Nick would even care.

  “What about Nick? You know I have had no news of him for well over two years now. Does he have a girlfriend in America?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t think so, he seems to be a bit of a rolling stone when he’s not with you.”

  The nurse moved on to the next patient, and I went in search of another chair as my shoulder was sore from leaning against the bed.

  I contented myself with holding Nick’s hand, as Rosine and I talked together. She was keen to hear about my flat in Wapping, and I thought I detected a gleam of interest in Nick as I described how I loved to sit by the river on my little terrace. He still couldn’t talk much without coughing, so he couldn’t contribute to the conversation.

  I told them that it would be difficult for me to keep visiting during the day - I did have a job to do, after all - but that, now he seemed to be improving, I would be happy to come in the evening, if no-one else was expected.

  “That would be great, Eithne. Evenings are a problem for me with the children, and it’s easier for mother and dad in the day as well. Nick doesn’t really know many people in London yet, so it would be very nice of you, if you can spare the time.”

  What a fortunate coincidence that Ian was away.

  At length, Rosine went in search of the Ladies. Visiting hours were nearly over. I said to Nick

  “If you like, I can come in tonight, on my way home.”

  “I won’t be going anywhere,” he whispered, with a flash of his old self.

  Once the intravenous antibiotics kicked in, Nick improved rapidly. After a week, he was off the drip, showered, sitting up in his chair and generally charming the nurses into being at his beck and call.

  He was always extremely pleased to see me, and there had been a lot of touchy feely stuff between us, but we had not talked at all about ourselves and what, if anything, the future might hold. Ian called me from New York, furious because he had been unable to reach me, and I accepted his scolding because it was justified. I began to grow increasingly unhappy, because I was leading some strange sort of double life between the two of them, and I knew I had to get things straightened out.

  When I visited Nick that evening, he was wearing a stylish new dressing gown and pyjamas which his mother had bought. He looked almost like the old Nick again, only very thin and pallid, as if he was in need of a good feeding up and some days in the sun. I thought he would probably be leaving the ward very soon, and asked him if he was going back to Beresford to convalesce.

  “I want to come and live with you,” he said, squeezing my hand as I sat next to him, and hypnotising me with a smile which was nearly back to its full brilliance.

  “Live with me? What gave you that idea?” I asked in surprise.

  “Well, you’ve been here almost every day since I’ve been ill. Don’t you want us to be together again?” he said.

  It was now or never.

  “Nick - I must tell you something ...” I began, but he interrupted me.

  “I know - you’re supposed to be engaged to that Ian chap who was at school with Andrew. Andrew only found out last week and then Rosine gave me the news. She’s pretty mad at you.”

  “She’s mad at me? That’s a bit much, considering she asked me to come here in the first place!” I exclaimed.

  “Yes - well, she says you didn’t tell her the truth when she asked about him. Anyway, it can’t be serious. What were you thinking, getting hooked up with someone so much older than you?”

  He was grinning at me, as if we were discussing something much less weighty than a proposed marriage, and I thought it was time to let him know where I stood.

  “Age isn’t the issue. He’s very handsome, successful and well off. My parents are delighted,” I retorted. I scrabbled in my bag, and retrieved my ring from where it had lain for the best part of ten days, and slid it back on to my finger.

  “Is that your ring? Why have you not been wearing it?”

  “I suppose a bit like you not telling me about Sphere before Finals - I didn’t want to upset you.”

  Nick caught my hand, and examined the ring.

  “Hmm. Expensive, but horribly ostentatious. Typical adman overkill - you don’t really like it, do you?” he enquired with a lazy smile.

  “I like the fact that he’s prepared to make a commitment to me,” I said.

  That removed the smile from Nick’s face. He looked at me intently, as I asked him

  “What would you have done in my place, Nick? You know how much I loved you - but we’d h
ad no contact for over two years, you told me you might never be coming back to Britain again. Why shouldn’t I be happy with someone else? You can’t possibly have believed I’d be sitting around waiting on the off chance you might come swanning back into my life.”

  There was a long silence, punctuated only by the sound of feet slapping the corridors and coughs and creaking beds.

  Nick was still holding my hand, playing with my fingers, twisting the ring so the stones disappeared from view. He said,

  “I know it sounds insane, but deep down, I did believe that. I needed to be on my own to cope with life in America, but I always felt that we had this bond between us, an unbreakable bond, and that one day I’d come back, you’d be there, and we would live together and be happy. It’s hard to put into words. When I heard from Rosine that you might be going to marry another man, I felt desperate, I can’t let you do it!

  “Do you really love this man, Eithne, or is he second best? Being so ill has made me think about what’s important, and you’ve been here for me. I can feel how much you care. I know you still love me. I don’t deserve it, but I‘ll make sure I do in future. This time, I’ve had enough of being a lone wolf. I can’t find you again only to lose you....”

  A look of pain came into his expressive, dark eyes, while I struggled to keep my composure. Part of me wanted to believe him, part of me wished he had never come back into my life. I told myself that I had made a promise to Ian, then I remembered the concerns I had felt about our relationship in recent weeks.

  I could see a ton of trouble brewing.

  “You must remember there are three people involved in all this,” I said after a long pause. “I can’t just make a decision on the spur of the moment. Suppose we did get back together are you saying you’d make some sort of commitment to me - to us? I wouldn’t accept anything less.”

  Another long silence.

  “If you’re desperate to get married, I’ll marry you.” His voice wavered.

  “And that sounds like it came from the heart.”

  Despite the seriousness of the occasion, I couldn’t help laughing. I remembered his distaste for the trappings and formality of Rosine’s wedding, how he had declared that marriage was for the parents’ benefit, not the children. He didn’t care a straw for the rituals of society.

  Nevertheless, I felt that I was at the crossroads. I got up to go.

  “I don’t think I’d better come again for a while, Nick. We need to think seriously about the future, about what’s best for everyone. I know that’s not your style, but there it is.”

  I bent down and kissed the top of his sleek head, and he caught at my arm.

  “Please, Eithne - he doesn’t need you like I do,” he pleaded.

  “I just don’t know, Nick. I really don’t know.”

  I got up and walked away, before he could beg me to stay.

  I decided not to return to the hospital. Several days passed in a blur of indecision and misery, while I tried to work out what was the best thing for all of us. On Friday evening, I got home, poured myself a welcome glass of wine, and was rootling in the fridge for something to eat, when the doorbell rang.

  It was Nick, shouldering a bag and a large bouquet.

  “Nick. You’d better come in,” I said wearily, accepting the flowers. I wasn’t at all sure I was able to deal with him.

  He came in, put the bag down, and walked through to the living room, where the patio doors were open to the balcony. He stood there while I poured a glass of wine for him, breathing in the sounds and smells of the river rushing past. The tide was high and there was that sense of change on the air that the full waters always seemed to bring with them.

  “Are you fully recovered? You still look very fragile,” I said.

  He was gazing out into the darkening evening, eyes bright despite the pallor of his complexion.

  “It’s wonderful here - it feels like home,” he said softly.

  We stood there together for a few moments, wrapped in peaceful contemplation, then he turned and took me in his arms. A million memories assailed me.

  He kissed me very tenderly, and then the kisses grew ardent.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” he murmured hoarsely in my ear, his body pressed against mine.

  “Nick.... I’m engaged to another man.....” I whispered, fighting against my desire for him.

  “Not for much longer.”

  He felt for my left hand, and pulled off my ring, throwing it on to the coffee table. As his mouth grew more demanding, I wondered whether making love with him would help me resolve my feelings.

  He led me to the bedroom, and we joyfully rediscovered each other in the most blissful of embraces. It was not merely physical, there was a spiritual dimension to our union, a sense of belonging and being at one which I never had with anyone else, and afterwards, as we lay entwined in a mazy contentment, I thought “Now I know what to do.”

  Chapter 24

  Before we went to sleep that night, we had a long talk about our future. I knew now that it was Nick I wanted to be with. He needed me, we loved each other more than ever, and we agreed that once I had extricated myself from my involvement with Ian, we would make a definite commitment to one another. I believed Nick when he confessed that for the first time, he was ready to settle down with me, and I almost ached with contemplating the bliss of it.

  But first, I was faced with the awful task of telling Ian I was no longer able to marry him. When I got to work on the Monday morning, I sought out Robin and told him of my - our - decision.

  “I can’t fight it any more. I know it’s the right thing to do,” I explained. “But I’m frightened how Ian will react.”

  “I can’t say I envy you, Eithne, although I‘m pleased,” Robin said. “I feel that you and Nick are much better suited than you are with Ian. When does Ian get back? I assume you’ll wait until then, not write him a Dear John letter?”

  But Ian was not due to come home for several weeks, and I felt I urgently needed to undeceive him before I could be fully happy with Nick. In the end, I rang him from the office two days later.

  He sounded concerned when I finally got through to him.

  “Eithne? It’s lovely to hear your voice, darling, but is everything okay?” he queried.

  “Well - no-one’s hurt or dead or anything.”

  I swallowed hard. “Ian - I am terribly, terribly sorry, but I have something to tell you which won’t wait until you get back.”

  I could feel his surprise down the line.

  “Are you pregnant?” he asked.

  “No, nothing like that. I’m afraid my old love Nick has come back. He’s been very ill, and I’ve realised that my future lies with him and not with you. I’m so very sorry.....”

  My heart was in my mouth while I waited for his reaction.

  “What? Don’t be so ridiculous, Eithne! From all you’ve told me, he’s a complete waste of space. Are you seriously telling me that you’d pass up everything I can offer for some scruffy, third rate journalist with a track record of disappointing you?”

  Put like that, it did sound incredible, but I knew I was right.

  “It’s hard to explain,” I faltered. “I thought I loved you enough, Ian, but when I saw Nick again, I realised that he still has my heart. He’s always had it. I wish it wasn’t the case, but it is. Surely you don’t want a wife who can only give you second best?”

  I could feel his hurt and amazement down the telephone, and it made me quake with apprehension. Finally, he snapped

  “I’m not going to talk to you about it now, Eithne. You had better think hard about what you’re doing - I can’t believe you’re giving in to such a terrible misjudgement. You’ll regret this, believe me.”

  He slammed the phone down, leaving me panicky and upset. I couldn’t see how this was going to resolve itself without further horrible scenes, and it made me frightened.

  ”Well, what did you expect?” said Nick, when I told him later. “I must say,
I object to the “scruffy third rate journalist” bit. Surely The Telegraph merits a higher ranking?”

  I couldn’t help smiling, and I thought that I had never seen my vain and debonair Nick scruffy in all the time I had known him - except for the time when he experimented with a moustache.

  “Should I come with you when you finally have it out with him?” Nick asked.

  “God, no. He’s much bigger and stronger than you, Nick, he’d be like a terrier with a rat.”

  “Thanks.”

  Nick looked miffed. I gave him a quick hug.

  “You’re still not properly over your pneumonia, and Ian used to be a boxer at school,” I explained.

  We were sitting on the balcony, enjoying the balmy evening and the riverside view. Nick lit a cigarette - to my sorrow, he had defied the doctor’s orders and started to smoke again almost as soon as he left the hospital.

  “You know I shall have to look for another job, don’t you?” I said. “I don’t think there will be room for the two of us at the agency once he gets back.”

  “You don’t need to worry about money. I’ve got enough for both of us,” he replied.

  It felt strange, but wonderful, to be living there with him, the life I had always longed for. His illness had sobered him, and made him appreciate the ordinary things which make up a happy existence, and I had no doubts about his commitment to me, or mine to him. This time, I knew we would be building a life together.

  I was just getting ready to go for lunch with Mia on Friday, to tell her what had occurred, when I heard raised voices, and Ian loomed in the doorway of my office. His usual elegance was marred by a bleary look, and he needed a shave.

  He strode forward, and pulled me up by my arm.

  “Let’s go to my room. We need to talk.”

  His tone was grim, his face set. Still gripping me painfully, he propelled me down the corridor to his office, which had an air of dusty disuse about it after his absence.

  He slammed the door.

  “Now, Eithne. I’ve come back - at some inconvenience - to talk sense into you.”