“What caused it?” Shane asked.
“We don’t know why it happens, we never do really. This weakness in the blood vessel wall is called an aneurysm, which is a word you might be more familiar with.”
“Yes, I am,” Shane answered, nodding. “I have a better understanding now.”
“Anyway the best answer I can give about this type of hemorrhage is that it happens when the pressure of the blood tears an aneurysm wall.”
“And the blood goes into the brain, is that what happens?”
“Yes indeed, Mr. O’Neill. It goes into the tissues surrounding the brain. This is called the subarachnoid layer, hence the name of the hemorrhage.” The surgeon put his hand on Shane’s arm sympathetically. “It’s such a small amount of blood, you know, just ten cc’s, which in layman’s terms is about a thimbleful.”
“My God, so little.” Shane stared at him in astonishment.
“Unfortunately, it can be disastrous.”
“Is my wife going to be all right?” Shane asked now, his tone concerned.
“Mrs. O’Neill is very ill. We plan to operate tomorrow morning very early.”
“Why not today?”
“We’re still giving her tests, Mr. O’Neill.”
“Can I see her?”
“I’m afraid not. She’s undergoing tests, as I just said. We’ll be in touch.”
Shane nodded. “Thank you for explaining everything, and for looking after my wife, Mr. Gilleon.”
The surgeon took Shane’s outstretched hand, shook it, nodded to the others, and left the room as briskly as he had entered.
“So you were more or less right, Jack,” Shane said, striding over to join the others. “I hope to God Paula is going to get through this—” He stopped, turned his head abruptly, then walked over to the window. His eyes had filled with tears, and he didn’t want the others to see him this upset.
But Linnet was aware that her father had broken down, and she went over to him, took hold of his arm. “It’s all right, Daddy,” she murmured gently. “Mummy’s going to be fine, I just know it. She’s going to make it.” Sliding her arm through his, she drew even closer and whispered, “You know what she always says, the Hartes are made of the strongest steel.”
“Let’s hope so,” Shane muttered, brushing his eyes with his hand, then putting his arms around his daughter, holding her as if he would never let her go. Paula was his life, and he knew Linnet knew that. She had always been aware of how much her parents loved each other, and had for all of their lives.
And as he held his firstborn daughter to him, he offered up a silent prayer: Oh, God, let her live. Let my Paula live.
32
On Monday night Linnet spent part of the evening weeping in Julian’s arms. Even though her husband tried to convince her that she had not been responsible for her mother’s collapse, she kept blaming herself.
It was only when she had exhausted herself with crying and was quiet and still on the sofa that he finally spoke to her a little sternly. “Nobody causes anyone to have a brain hemorrhage, Linnet!” he exclaimed, giving her a long, penetrating look. “It’s just as your father told you, a medical problem. And think about this, Paula hasn’t looked well ever since we got back from our honeymoon in January.”
“That’s true,” Linnet responded, sitting up straighter, her eyes pinned on his. “She kept saying she was merely tired, or had done too much, and there had been two weddings to cope with, ours and Evan’s. But perhaps something else was happening … to her health.”
“More than likely it was. And you must stop punishing yourself like this. It wasn’t your fault. Remember that.”
Linnet just inclined her head and, reaching out, took hold of Julian’s hand. “I’ve come to realize, especially in the last couple of years, that Mummy’s a real worrier. And she’s done a lot of worrying lately … about that awful Jonathan Ainsley, and about Robin’s health. I know she went to see him on Saturday, because Dad told me today that something was troubling Uncle Robin. And she apparently worried all weekend about Tessa, and Jean-Claude being missing. At least that’s what Daddy was explaining after we left the hospital this afternoon.”
“I don’t think worrying about problems caused the brain hemorrhage either, darling. It’s always a medical situation, as I just said.” Julian shook his head, let out a small sigh. “I do feel sorry for Tessa. It must be hell, living on her nerves, waiting for news about Jean-Claude.”
“She’s pregnant,” Linnet blurted out. “She told me this morning, when I spoke to her on the phone. Before Mummy collapsed.”
Julian looked at Linnet, his mind racing, his deep blue eyes now focused on her intently. “Well, that changes the picture all around, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. She sounds happy about the baby, but I suppose she’s worried that she might be bringing the child up without a father—”
“But she’s already doing that,” Julian cut in. “And Adele seems no worse for it. She’s probably better without that loudmouthed Mark Longden around. Thank God your mother packed him off to Sydney.”
“He wouldn’t have gone quite so readily if Mummy hadn’t given him that huge settlement.”
“Money talks,” Julian said, smiling at her. “But as you always say, there are many other currencies.”
For the first time in hours Linnet smiled. She leaned into Julian and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “I can’t imagine being married to anyone else but you, Jules.”
“Don’t even let that thought cross your mind,” he shot back in a stern way, but she knew he was teasing her.
Linnet said, “Emily and Dad were going to phone the family, explain what happened to Mummy. Oh, God, I do hope she’ll pull through.” Her eyes filled, and she brought a hand to her trembling mouth.
Julian pulled her into his arms and held her close to him, stroking that red hair he loved so much. “Stop it, darling. You must stay calm. Please don’t think about her not recovering. Send out positive thoughts, good vibes. Promise me.”
“I will, I promise,” she murmured against his chest.
They sat like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms on the sofa in front of the fire. They had not yet bothered to look for a larger place and were living in Julian’s bachelor flat on Chester Street. It was perfectly adequate for them at the moment; they both liked the area, and the proximity to her mother’s house in Belgrave Square pleased Linnet.
Julian Kallinski’s thoughts were very much centered on his mother-in-law at this moment. He was putting up a good front to support Linnet, reinforce her natural courage, but deep down he was worried about Paula. By an odd coincidence his mother’s sister, Ashley Preston, had died of a subarachnoid brain hemorrhage several years ago; now he remembered his mother telling him at the time that few people survived a brain injury of that nature. Almost everyone died within several days, if not sooner. He prayed to God that Paula would be one of the lucky ones. He didn’t know how Shane would go on without her, or how any of the family would manage. Paula McGill Harte Amory Fairley O’Neill. My God, he thought, what a name. She had been christened Paula McGill for her grandfather Paul McGill, Harte for Emma, Amory because that was her father David’s surname. Fairley came from her first marriage, to James Fairley; and O’Neill because she had married Shane, the love of her life.
He suspected that Paula was the love of his father’s life. Michael Kallinski had never married after divorcing Valentine, his mother, and over the years Julian had slowly come to realize, mostly through observation, that his father was utterly devoted to Linnet’s mother. Oh, Michael, Michael, he thought suddenly, you should have cured yourself years ago. Moved on, Dad. Loving Paula was a lost cause. Linnet was convinced that Jack Figg was in love with Paula also, and knowing how astute his wife was, Julian believed she was right.
But neither man had been anything but a good friend in Paula’s mind, of that he was certain. She had only ever had eyes for Shane. Just as he had only ever had eyes for this bundle of
contradictions in his arms. How he loved his Linnet, and all the more because of what she was, who she was. A total, dyed-in-the-wool Harte. Loyal, stubborn, loving, enterprising, strong, intelligent, and brave. It would be her bravery that would bring her through this ordeal. He had loved her since they were children growing up together, and he had never doubted her courage and her determination to overcome all odds.
He felt her stirring, and, moving away slightly, he said, “I bet you haven’t eaten all day, have you?”
Sitting up, Linnet shook her head. “No, and I’m not really hungry. I don’t think I could eat anything.”
“I have to, I’m starving.” As he spoke, Julian got up and headed for the kitchen. “Mrs. Ludlow left supper ready for us, Linny.”
“What is it?” Linnet struggled to her feet and went after him, suddenly realizing she felt slightly nauseated because she, too, was hungry.
“Look,” Julian murmured, lifting the lid of a pan on the stove. “Beef stew. And I know there’s smoked salmon in the refrigerator, as well as salad, various cheeses, and fruit. Surely you can take a few mouthfuls of something?”
“I think I’d better, I do feel rather empty.” Turning the gas ring on underneath the stew, Linnet continued, “I hope Dad’s all right. He went back to his office. I should have invited him over to have supper with us.”
“Knowing Emily, she took charge of him. Want to bet he’s having dinner with her and Winston right at this moment?”
“I won’t take the bet, because I know you’re right. Of course he’s with them, they’re his best friends … all of his life.”
On Wednesday, two days after her collapse, Shane O’Neill knew at last that Paula’s life had been saved by the team of doctors at King’s College Hospital in South East London. Not only had her life been saved but the surgeons had informed him that there was every chance it would be a productive life. The operation on her brain had been an outstanding success, they believed.
Once he had hung up the phone in his office, Shane wept with relief. The strain of the last few days had taken its toll, and as strong and courageous as Shane was, the thought of losing Paula had crippled him. Somehow he had managed to keep a calm facade for everyone’s sake, but he had been afraid and even panic-stricken at times.
With this good news in his possession, he began to call the family. He phoned his father first, because he was well aware that Bryan O’Neill was fretting over Paula, and that kind of pressure was too much for a man in his eighties to take. Then he phoned his children, who were as joyous as he was, and who promised to inform other members of the family while he called Emily and Winston.
On Saturday morning Shane was finally allowed to see Paula, and when he walked into her hospital room he was initially startled. There was no bandage on her head, even though he knew she had had a brain operation. He mentioned this to Mr. Gilleon as he was led by him into the room, and the surgeon said quietly, “New techniques, you know.”
Paula was filled with relief at the sight of Shane, and after a brief word with her, Mr. Gilleon left them alone. “For just a short while,” he added as he closed the door behind him.
After kissing her cheek, Shane pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down, took hold of Paula’s hand. “Oh, darling, what a relief it is that you’re all right. We’ve been worried sick.”
“I can imagine …” A wry smile touched Paula’s mouth, and she said, “I didn’t remember anything, Shane. Yesterday, the surgeon explained what had happened to me, that I had had a brain injury.”
Shane nodded. “Mr. Gilleon told me you’ve been very lucky.”
“Yes, I know I have. But what happened? I remember talking to Linnet in my office on Monday morning … The rest is a blank.”
“Linnet said you were standing at the window, looking out. Then you walked back to your desk but seemed to be faltering, staggering, and she rushed to you, got you into a chair. You asked her to call nine-nine-nine, and you told her your head hurt. The ambulance came to the store, and you were rushed here. The surgeons operated on Tuesday.”
“It’s funny, I don’t recall any of it. The doctors told me I had classic symptoms when I came in, the right side of my face was askew, and I was terribly sensitive to light.”
“And how do you feel today, Paula?” Shane searched her face, finding her remarkably unchanged in appearance.
“Tired. A little weak. Very dazed.” She offered him a faint smile and settled back against the pillows. “In the family we’ve always said the Hartes are made of steel. Well, at least one of us now has platinum inside as well. Me.”
Shane couldn’t help laughing, and he touched her cheek gently. He was full of happiness that this woman, whom he loved and who had been part of his life since his childhood, was now out of danger. “I know all about the platinum,” he said. “Mr. Gilleon has told me a few things about the operation, and he explained that they use platinum coils to seal off the bleed.”
“Yes, I know that, but I’m afraid I haven’t taken in everything. I guess I’m still a bit out of it.”
“Not surprising when you think about it, angel. Well, here goes, see if you can understand what they told me. I’ll try to make it simple. The surgeons find the aneurysm through the use of X-ray and radiographic techniques, by passing dye up a catheter in order to locate it precisely. Once they’ve found the aneurysm, they thread fine platinum wires along the catheter tube. As I understand it, Paula, the hole in the blood vessel is actually sealed by the platinum wires, which form coils. They’re in place permanently in your brain and prevent any further bleeding.”
“Isn’t it amazing what they can do today? And thank God they can, or I wouldn’t be here,” Paula murmured.
“Modern miracles,” Shane replied, and then, clearing his throat, he went on carefully. “Listen to me, Paula, you’re doing very well, very well indeed. But many people don’t, so I’m told. Some patients who survive a brain hemorrhage develop memory loss, blurred vision, or speech problems. So far so good, my darling, but you are going to have to take it easy.”
“Yes, I know. But when can I come home, Shane? Have the doctors told you?”
“You do have to stay here a bit longer, darling. Just until you get your strength back. You’ve had a major operation, don’t forget. The doctor told me it will be at the end of next week, providing you do as well as you have so far.”
“Oh, Shane, that’s such a long time …” Her voice trailed off. She was disappointed she wasn’t leaving with him today.
“No, not long at all under the circumstances,” he responded. “A week is not so very long to wait in my opinion, considering you might not have been coming home at all. I might have had to spend the rest of my life without you.”
Paula squeezed his hand and murmured lovingly, “I know what you mean, darling. I can have visitors, can’t I? I want to see the children. Oh, Shane, I forgot, what about Jean-Claude?”
He shook his head sadly. “No news, none at all actually. As far as seeing the children is concerned, I’m sure you can, but they mustn’t tire you.”
The smile on her face was beatific as he bent down to kiss her.
After examining her, Dr. Charles Addney covered Evan with the sheet and patted her shoulder. “You’re fine, Mrs. Harte, just fine. But I think it’s better for you to stay in hospital, now that you’re already here. After all, it’s the end of February.”
Evan nodded. “I agree with you, Doctor. It’s funny, the pains were so intense this morning at home, but they stopped the minute we reached Queen Charlotte’s.”
The doctor smiled. “That’s not unusual, actually. But you made a wise decision to come in, since you’re due any day now. Anyway, you’ll be much more comfortable here.” The doctor glanced across at Gideon and added, “Safer, too. I’m so glad you brought her in, Mr. Harte.”
“It was Evan’s decision, Doctor, and she knows best.”
“That’s true. I’m satisfied that everything’s perfectly all right. Well,
I’ll be off on the rest of my rounds.” He smiled down at Evan. “I’ll pop in and see you again in a couple of hours. But if you need anything, the bell is there. Just ring for the nurse.”
“Do you think I should stay?” Gideon asked, looking at the doctor, then peering at his watch. It was seven o’clock.
“That’s up to you, of course, Mr. Harte. But I don’t think it’s necessary, if you want to get off to work. We’ll be in touch with you if Mrs. Harte should go into labor.”
Gideon nodded his understanding, bent down, and kissed Evan on the cheek. “I can be back here in twenty minutes, darling,” he murmured, smiling at her.
“I know that, Gideon. So, go on, off with you.” She grinned at him. “Honestly, I’m feeling great now.”
After kissing her cheek once more, Gideon followed the doctor out of the room, and Evan slid down in the bed, closed her eyes, and before she knew it she was dozing. She needed the rest after her sleepless night, and she went into a deep slumber; several times the nurse looked in on her, but Evan was unaware of this. ,
She awakened suddenly as the most excruciating pains shot through her; gasping, half sitting up in bed, she fumbled for the bell, pushed it hard, and waited, her arms over her stomach.
Only a second or two passed before the nurse on duty came in, and when she saw Evan doubled over, she was next to the bed in an instant.
“I think the babies are coming,” Evan gasped, and then she groaned as a rush of pain crippled her. She closed her eyes tightly and clenched her hands as the pain swept over her in waves.
Within minutes the two duty nurses were lifting Evan onto a gurney and pushing her down the corridor to the delivery room. But she was hardly aware of this; the pains were so intense she could barely breathe, and she was finding it hard not to scream; somehow she hung on.
Evan was in labor for two hours, and toward the end of the second hour, Dr. Addney made the decision to administer an anesthetic. The birth went without a hitch, and the two baby boys came out one after the other, screaming at the top of their lungs. As their mother dozed, they were whisked off by the nurses to be bathed and wrapped in warm blankets.
Just Rewards (Harte Family Saga) Page 35