‘But I want to go home with you. It’s Christmas, Uncle David!’ Cheska’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.’
‘There, there. There’s nothing to get upset about. LJ will be in to see you every day. I’ll come to visit too, whenever I can.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise, sweetheart.’ He paused, weighing up in his mind the wisdom of what he was about to say. ‘Cheska, before I go, if there’s anything you want to ask me about your mother, you—’ David stopped mid-sentence as he saw that Cheska’s face hadn’t even flickered at the mention of Greta. She merely stared at him blankly for a moment then turned to look out of the window. ‘Well, goodbye, darling. I’ll see you very soon.’
‘Goodbye, Uncle David,’ she replied over her shoulder.
David left the room, closely followed by Dr Cox.
‘Don’t worry, Mr Marchmont. While that little scene may have been upsetting, it is, I believe, somewhat encouraging. The fact that she can express at least some emotion, such as being upset that you’re leaving, is a positive step.’
‘But I feel so cruel abandoning her here.’
‘Please don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll adjust to it very quickly. Really, she’s in the best place, and you must trust us. You go home and try to have a relaxing Christmas and we’ll talk again afterwards.’
It was early evening when David and LJ arrived at Marchmont. Completely exhausted, emotionally and physically, he had succumbed to his mother’s suggestion that he at least spend Christmas with her.
‘Sit down, David, and I’ll make us a strong drink.’
David watched as LJ poured them both a whisky. ‘There.’ She placed the drink in his hands then went to stir the fire.
‘Cheers, and Merry Christmas. You look wonderful, as always, Ma. Younger than me, just now,’ he joked.
‘I think it’s this place that keeps me going. I have so much to do, there’s no time to get old.’
‘Are you sure you can cope with visiting Cheska, Ma?’
‘Of course, dear boy. And Mary said she will too.’
‘But what about when she gives birth in a few months’ time and she has to care for a tiny thing that’s dependent on her for its every need? She’s not capable of looking after herself, let alone taking on the responsibility of a child. And with Greta as she is, well . . .’
‘Yes, that’s been worrying me, too. But what can we do, other than pray she starts to recover? She has quite a time to go still.’
‘She looks like a ghost. So pale, and with that awful glassy-eyed expression. She’s so fragile, Ma. And she hasn’t mentioned Greta once. She was completely blank when I made a reference to her mother just before we left.’
‘Well, as I admitted to that psychiatrist this afternoon, I can’t help wondering whether this is all part of a much larger mental problem, rather than just the shock of Greta’s accident.’
‘I don’t think so. Cheska has always been very stable. She’s coped with years of being in the limelight when other, much more mature people crack under the pressure.’
‘Maybe, but don’t you think that could be part of her problem? I mean, what is reality for her? And all that fame to handle at such a young age. You know I’ve never approved of her doing all those films. It seems to me that she missed out completely on being a child.’
‘Yes, but Greta only wanted what was best for her, you know,’ David said, as usual defensive of criticism on Greta’s behalf.
‘And what about the father of her baby? This Bobby Cross?’
‘The evening of the accident Greta was going to tell Cheska he was married. Whether she did or not, at present, only Cheska knows. Leon is getting in touch with Bobby as soon as he’s back in the country but, to be honest, it’s a pointless exercise. I’m sure John Cox will broach the subject with her. Maybe we’ll know more then.’
‘What are your plans for the next few days?’ LJ asked, changing the subject.
‘I have to leave on Boxing Day and go to Cambridge to see Greta,’ he shrugged. ‘Her consultant called to say they’ve found nothing in any of the tests they ran.’
‘So, there’s no change?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘Well, is it really necessary that you go? I don’t wish to appear unkind, David, but the poor woman is in a coma. She’s in good hands at Addenbrooke’s and, besides, she’s hardly in a state to miss you for a few days more. You need a break from all this, dear boy. It’s too much for you.’
‘No, Ma,’ said David quietly, ‘what I need is to be with the woman I love.’
32
‘So, Cheska, how are you feeling today?’ John Cox smiled at her across the desk.
‘Fine,’ she replied.
‘Good, good. Are you settling down here all right?’
‘I suppose so, but I’d prefer to go home.’
‘To Marchmont?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you regard Marchmont as your home rather than the apartment you shared in London with your mother?’
Cheska stared at a figurine on a shelf and didn’t reply.
‘Would you like to tell me about your mother, Cheska?’
‘I was once in a film where there was a psychiatrist.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. He tried to get people to believe his brother was mad so he could lock him away and steal all his money.’
‘But films aren’t real, Cheska. They’re make-believe. Nobody is trying to say you’re mad. I’m trying to help you.’
‘That’s what the psychiatrist said in the film.’
‘Let’s talk about the baby, then. You do know you’re having a baby, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do!’ she snapped.
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘Very pleased.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’ She fidgeted and looked out of the window.
‘Well, you know then that you must take very good care of yourself. No skipping meals. Your baby is relying on you to help it grow.’
‘Yes.’
‘How do you feel about having the baby alone, without a father?’ he asked gently.
‘But my baby does have a father,’ she replied confidently. ‘We’re to be married as soon as he comes back from France.’
‘I see. What is your – er – boyfriend’s name?’
‘Bobby Cross. He’s a very famous singer, you know.’
‘How did your mother feel about the fact you were going to be married?’
Cheska again ignored the question.
‘Okay. I think that’s enough for today. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, by the way, you have a visitor this afternoon. Your uncle is coming to see you.’
Her face lit up with a genuine smile. ‘Oh, how lovely. Is he coming to take me back to Marchmont?’
‘Not today, no. But very soon, I promise.’
He pressed a buzzer on his desk and a nurse appeared at the door.
Cheska stood up. ‘Goodbye,’ she said, and followed the nurse out of the room.
Later that afternoon David was ushered into John Cox’s office.
‘How is she?’ he asked.
‘As I told your mother, much better, I think. Certainly far more responsive than she was two weeks ago. She seems to be taking much more notice of the world around her. But she still refuses to talk about her mother. It’s hard to gauge whether she believes Greta is alive or dead. Is she still in a coma?’
‘Yes. At present, there’s no sign of a change.’
‘This must be so difficult for you, Mr Marchmont.’
‘I’m coping,’ David answered swiftly, not wishing to be subjected to a psychiatrist’s analysis of his current state of mind. ‘Perhaps under the circumstances it’s best if Cheska isn’t pressed any further about her mother. After all, even if she did admit to remembering the accident, seeing Greta as she is – on a life-support system – could hardly bring her daughter any comfort.’
‘At this stage, I’m tempted to agree,’ said Dr Cox with a sigh. ‘Cheska also told me this morning that she and Bobby Cross are to be married as soon as he arrives back from France.’
‘That could mean Greta didn’t tell her about Bobby before the accident after all.’
‘Who’s to say? I suggest our next step is to get her through the birth and take it from there.’
David knocked on Cheska’s door.
‘Come in.’
He found her sitting in a chair next to the window.
‘Hello, sweetheart, how are you?’
She turned towards him and smiled. ‘Hello, Uncle David. Have you come to take me home?’
He went over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You look much more like your old self. It’s nice to see you dressed.’
‘Oh, I’m fine. I just want to know when I can come home, that’s all. Bobby will be wondering where I am.’ Cheska’s face suddenly darkened. ‘You know, I had this dream, Uncle David. It was terrible. Someone was telling me Bobby didn’t love me any more, that he was married with children of his own, which meant he couldn’t marry me. It was a dream, wasn’t it, Uncle David?’ Her eyes desperately searched his face for confirmation. ‘Bobby loves me, doesn’t he?’
David gulped, then nodded. ‘How could he not love you? Now, give me a big hug.’ He put his arms around her and felt how fragile she was. ‘Hey, you’re getting skinny, young lady. You’re meant to be putting on weight, not losing it.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. Tell Bobby I promise I’ll eat from now on. What about the wedding, Uncle David? We really should be married before the baby arrives.’
‘It’s a very nice place this, isn’t it?’ David wandered to the window, desperate to change the subject because he didn’t know how to answer. ‘The grounds are beautiful. You should take a walk. Fresh air would do you both good.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is pretty,’ said Cheska, following David’s glance. ‘But some of the other people here are quite mad. At night, when I’m trying to sleep, I can hear people moaning. It’s awful. I’d much prefer to be at Marchmont.’
‘The more you look after yourself and do as Dr Cox tells you, the sooner I can take you home. Is there anything you’d like me to bring you while you’re here?’
‘I suppose a television would be nice. I get a bit bored with nothing to do.’
‘I’ll see what I can arrange.’
‘Thank you. Uncle David? Am I ill? I don’t feel ill.’
‘No, you’re not ill. You just had a . . . a nasty shock that has left you a bit weak, that’s all.’
Cheska’s face turned pale. ‘I . . . I get so confused sometimes. I have all these awful nightmares and sometimes I can’t remember what’s real and what I dreamt. Sometimes I think I must be mad. I’m not mad, am I? Please tell me I’m not mad?’ Her eyes glistened with tears.
David knelt down by her side and gently stroked her cheek. ‘Of course you’re not, sweetheart. You’ve been under a lot of stress for a long time, that’s all. The reason you’re here is to let you rest and have a little peace. You have nothing to worry about, apart from looking after yourself and the baby. Promise me you’ll do that?’
‘I’ll try. I just get so frightened sometimes, that’s all. I feel . . . I feel so alone.’
‘But you’re not alone, Cheska. You have the baby, living inside you.’ He looked at the clock by her bed. ‘I’m going to have to leave now, sweetheart. I’ll come and visit next week.’
‘All right. I love you, Uncle David.’ She threw her arms around him. ‘You don’t think I’m a bad person, do you?’
‘No, Cheska, I don’t. See you soon.’ David kissed her on the top of her blonde head and left the room.
On the drive back to London David mulled over their conversation. There was no doubt Cheska was better than she had been, and at moments she had seemed quite normal. But the Bobby fantasy made him feel sick to his stomach.
Four hours after leaving Cheska he was back at her mother’s bedside.
David arrived home in Hampstead after his weekly vigil with Greta. Winter had turned to summer, but he’d hardly noticed the seasons changing. It was now almost six months since the accident and there was still no change. He’d cancelled most of his work commitments, only continuing his Friday-night radio show, so he could be with her for the rest of the week. The doctors at Addenbrooke’s were baffled now that brain scans and further tests had showed no signs of permanent damage. All they could suggest was that David talk to Greta and read to her as much as possible, in the hope that it might prompt a response. This he had willingly done, but to no avail so far.
The telephone was ringing as he opened the front door and he ran to answer it.
‘Hello?’
‘Leon here, David. How’s Cheska doing?’
‘Better, no thanks to you,’ replied David coldly.
‘And Greta?’
‘Still no change. What exactly do you want, Leon? You no longer represent me, and it’s only because Cheska’s been unwell that I haven’t yet suggested that she sacks you as well.’
‘Look, can’t we let bygones be bygones? I thought you should know that I’ve spoken to Bobby and he sounded genuinely shocked. He says that yes, Cheska and he did have a little fling, but nothing intimate enough to produce a baby. He swears he can’t possibly be the father. And that he had no idea how young she really was.’
‘Do you believe him?’
‘Do I hell! But what can we do? He’s denying all knowledge or responsibility.’
David ground his teeth. ‘I tell you something, if I ever come face to face with that bastard again I’ll have his balls on a skewer! Did you ask him whether he would visit Cheska?’
‘Yes, and he said no. He thought it might make matters worse than they already are. He says she’s got the whole thing out of proportion, that what they shared was just a casual, short romance, with no strings attached.’
‘I can’t say I expected anything very different, but hearing his barefaced lies still comes as quite a shock.’
‘The man has no morals, never has had. Listen, there is something we do need to discuss. I’ve had Charles Day on the telephone. He wanted to know if Cheska was well enough to attend the premiere of Please, Sir, I Love You.’
‘And what did you tell him?’
‘That I thought it was doubtful. Of course, I haven’t gone into full details about her situation. Charles thinks she’s had a breakdown due to the shock of her mother’s accident. He knows nothing about the baby.’
‘Well, Cheska’s in no fit state to go anywhere. And even if she were, I presume Bobby Cross will be at the premiere? Leon, how can you even suggest it?!’
‘Okay, okay. I’ll tell Charles she’s too poorly to attend and get him to tell the newspapers that she’s got a bad bout of flu. It’s a shame, though. They reckon the film is going to be huge on both sides of the Atlantic.’
‘Yes, it is a shame, Leon. But then, if certain people hadn’t manipulated Cheska, none of this would have happened, would it?’
‘I know, David, what can I say? I’m sorry, I really am.’
‘Well, next time you see Bobby, tell him to steer clear of me. I won’t be held responsible for my actions.’
Slamming the receiver down, David knew that he was physically, mentally and emotionally at the end of his tether. Sitting by Greta’s bedside day in, day out, doing as the doctors had asked and trying to jog her memory yet receiving no response was wearing his positivity away.
He was beginning to give up hope.
33
The months passed slowly for Cheska. Some days she would wake up feeling full of energy, thinking about Bobby and the baby, but on others she would sink into an abyss of gloom. LJ came to see her most days, but liked to talk about the weather and the lambs being born on the farm, when all she wanted to talk about was Bobby. Uncle David came sometimes, too, and she kept asking him why she couldn’t leave Medlin, which she knew was
a hospital for mad people. She had tried to talk to some of the other patients when they ate together in the dining room, but they either didn’t reply or repeated themselves over and over.
David had promised her that, when the baby was born, he’d come and take her home, and she comforted herself with the thought that she didn’t have long to go. She wrote Bobby long letters and gave them to David to post when he visited her. Bobby never replied, but she knew he was busy and she tried to understand. When they were married, she’d have to get used to him going away.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Cheska would have the old dreadful nightmares. She would wake up sobbing, and one of the nurses would come in, comfort her and give her a cup of cocoa and a sleeping pill.
Fragments of something terrible that she had done drifted back to her occasionally, but she shut the thoughts out. It was probably part of the nightmare.
In the last month of her pregnancy Cheska was confined to bed. Her blood pressure had risen and Dr Cox told her she must do nothing but rest. She spent most of the evenings watching the television that Uncle David had brought her.
One Sunday night she sat in bed watching the evening news.
‘And now we go over to Minnie Rogers, who is in Leicester Square, reporting on the stars arriving for the premiere of Please, Sir, I Love You.’
Cheska jumped out of bed and turned up the sound.
‘Hello, everyone.’ The reporter smiled into the camera. Behind her Cheska could see a crowd of people standing behind barriers, like she’d seen them do countless times at her own premieres. ‘We’re just waiting for Bobby Cross, the star of the show, to arrive. Cheska Hammond, who plays the role of Ava, is in bed with flu, and unable to attend tonight. Oh!’ The reporter turned round, the excitement showing on her face. ‘And here he comes.’
A large black limousine pulled up in front of the cinema. Bobby appeared, smiling and waving at the screaming fans pushing towards him. Cheska’s eyes filled with tears. She put one of her hands to the screen and caressed his face.
Bobby reached inside the car, and out stepped a beautiful, slim blonde wearing a sequinned mini-dress. He put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek, then they walked towards the cinema entrance, turning to pose for the cameras.
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