LJ watched Cheska through a veil of red mist. Brightly coloured patterns were dancing in front of her eyes. She wanted to answer . . . to explain, but when she opened her mouth to do so, it refused to form the words.
‘You’ve always hated me, haven’t you? Well, you won’t win, dearest Aunt, because—’
LJ jerked forward, let out a small moan, then fell back onto her pillows. She lay still and was deathly pale.
‘LJ?’ Cheska shook her aunt harshly. ‘Wake up and listen to me! I know you’re only pretending so you won’t have to talk about it! LJ! LJ?’
As her aunt lay motionless, the expression on Cheska’s face turned from one of fury to horror.
‘LJ! For Chrissakes, wake up! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Please! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ She threw her arms round LJ’s limp shoulders, sobbing hysterically.
And that was how Mary found them, after hearing Cheska’s cries from downstairs. She called an ambulance and went with both LJ and Cheska to Abergavenny Hospital.
47
Ava found the first few days of lectures both terrifying and exhausting as she embarked on a whole new way of learning. Sitting in a lecture theatre with eighty other students straining to catch every word that dropped from her professors’ mouths, she’d scribble everything down as fast as she could, then she’d scurry home to write up her notes neatly and in context. She was also loving every second of it, starting to make friends and settling down into university life.
For the past three days, she’d rung Marchmont in the evening and received no reply. This hadn’t worried her unduly, as there were only two telephones in the house, one in the study, the other in the kitchen. And if everyone was outside or upstairs, they wouldn’t hear it. However, when there was no reply on the fourth night, Ava began to worry. On Friday evening, when again no one picked up, she found Mary’s home number in her address book and dialled it. The broad accent of Mary’s husband, Huw, greeted her at the end of the line.
‘Sorry to bother you, Huw, but I’m a bit worried. No one’s answering the phone at Marchmont,’ she explained. ‘Is everything all right?’
There was a silence before Huw said, ‘I thought they would’ve told you, Miss Ava. I’m afraid your great-aunt had a stroke three or four days ago and your mother has been at the hospital with her. Mary’s been visiting her, too, every evening, which is why I reckon you haven’t had a reply from the house.’
‘Oh my God! How bad is it? Is she in danger? I—’
‘Now, don’t you go upsetting yourself, fach. I don’t know all the details, except for the fact that your aunt’s stable and in the best place. Why don’t you give me the number you’re calling from and I’ll get Mary to call you back as soon as she gets home?’
‘Yes, and in the meantime, can you tell me which hospital my aunt is in? I’ll call them straight away.’
‘Abergavenny Hospital, it is. So, you’ll wait right there, will you? Mary should be back in fifteen minutes or so.’
Shocked and puzzled that no one had told her sooner that LJ was in hospital, Ava dialled Directory Enquiries to get the number. She got through to the hospital switchboard and, after what seemed like an age, to the ward LJ was on. But then all her change ran out and the beeps went just as the ward sister finally came to the phone. Ava slammed down the receiver in frustration, then looked at her watch and saw it was ten past seven. She had been supposed to meet Simon outside her halls at seven o’clock. Not wanting to leave the payphone in case Mary called back, she asked one of the girls along her corridor to go and tell Simon where she was. He appeared through the double doors just as the payphone rang.
‘Hello? Mary? What’s happened? How is she? Why did no one tell me? I—’ Ava burst into tears of fear and frustration.
‘Calm down, fach,’ Mary soothed her. ‘Your mother insisted that we didn’t tell you and disturb your studies, she said it was better to wait until we had good news so as not to worry you. Although I did tell Cheska that I personally thought you’d want to be told what had happened straight away . . . anyway, as you know from Huw, your great-aunt has had a stroke. She’s been in intensive care for the past few days, but you’ll be happy to know she’s just this evening been moved onto a medical ward and they say she’s out of danger. There, there, my pet.’ Ava was sobbing down the line.
‘I knew I shouldn’t have left her. Are you absolutely sure she’s going to be okay?’
‘The doctors have said she should be, yes.’
‘I’m going to get on the train and come home now. I’ll get a taxi from the station and go straight to the hospital.’
‘There’s no point in doing that – they won’t let you see her. Visiting hours are over now and she’s tucked up in bed for the night. Come to Marchmont, and I’ll let your mother know you’re on your way.’
‘Okay,’ said Ava, trying to pull herself together. She could see Simon standing watching her out of the corner of her eye. ‘Warn her it won’t be until after midnight.’
‘I will, fach. Now you take care of yourself on that long journey and I’ll see you at the house tomorrow.’
‘Thanks, Mary.’
Ava hung up, wiped her tears away roughly and turned to Simon.
‘Your great-aunt is in hospital?’
‘Yes, and I can’t believe my mother didn’t tell me. I’m so sorry, Simon, but I have to go home straight away.’
‘Of course you do. Look, Ava, why don’t I drive you? It’s a hell of a way by train.’
‘That’s really kind of you, Simon, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. I must go and pack.’
‘Ava’ – Simon grabbed her arm as she turned to walk along the corridor – ‘I want to take you. I’ll nip back home and get my car and I’ll see you outside the front door in half an hour, okay?’
‘Okay,’ she said gratefully.
‘But I’m warning you, it’s not exactly a Rolls Royce,’ he added as he turned and headed for the exit.
Five hours later Simon was steering his ancient Mini along the bumpy lane that led to Marchmont. The heating had broken down on the way and Ava’s teeth were chattering, whether from cold or tension, she didn’t know.
Mary had left them soup and bread in the kitchen and Simon ate his hungrily whilst she played with hers, feeling nauseous. There was no sign of Cheska as Ava led Simon upstairs to a spare room.
‘Thank you so much for driving me here,’ she said.
‘No problem at all.’ Simon reached for her and hugged her tightly. ‘Try to get some sleep, won’t you?’
‘Yes. Goodnight.’
The following morning, Ava found Mary in the kitchen.
‘How are you, fach? Come and give me a cuddle,’ she said, wiping her hands on her apron.
‘Oh Mary, why didn’t anyone tell me? My God, if she’d died, I—’
‘I know, I know. But she’s out of danger now and I’m sure seeing you will cheer her up no end.’
‘Do you think we should contact Uncle David?’
‘I did ask your mother that and she said we shouldn’t be bothering him on holiday. Now your great-aunt’s on the mend, I think we can leave him be; otherwise, we both know he’d be home like a shot. Look you, I’m just taking up your mum’s breakfast – you know she always has it in bed – so why don’t you come up with me and say hello?’
‘I’ll just make myself and Simon a cup of tea,’ Ava said, switching on the kettle.
‘Simon, is it?’
‘Yes, he kindly gave me a lift here last night.’
‘And that would be the same Simon that was here for your great-aunt’s eighty-fifth birthday?’
‘It would.’
‘Well, that was very good of him, now, wasn’t it? Told you that you’d see him again,’ she said, a twinkle in her eyes. ‘Look you, I’ll see you upstairs.’
Having taken the tea in to a still-sleeping Simon and left it by the side of his bed, Ava walked down the corridor to her mother’s bedroom. Taking a dee
p breath, she knocked and entered. Cheska was sitting up in bed eating her breakfast.
‘Ava, honey! Come and give your mother a kiss.’
Ava did so and Cheska patted the bed, indicating she should sit down.
‘I feel exhausted this morning. Since poor LJ’s stroke I’ve been at the hospital night and day. It really was touch and go whether she’d make it.’ Cheska gave a dramatic yawn.
‘Why didn’t you tell me she’d had a stroke?’
‘Because I didn’t want to worry you, honey. And, besides, I was here to take care of her so there was really no point you interrupting your studies.’
‘If anything ever happens again, Mother, please contact me straight away. LJ is everything to me, you know that.’
‘Yes I do – you’ve said it often enough! Anyway, she’s recovering now. And it’s me who feels dreadful.’
‘Well, you mustn’t worry about visiting her today. I’ll go.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind, that would be kind of you.’ Cheska yawned again. ‘I think I’ll stay right here and catch up on some sleep. Can you take the tray down to Mary and tell her I’m not to be disturbed?’
‘Of course. I’ll see you later.’
Simon insisted on driving Ava to Abergavenny Hospital and told her he’d wait for her outside and not to worry how long she was. Up on the ward, she introduced herself to the nurse on the desk and asked if she could see her great-aunt.
‘It’s not visiting hours just yet, but as you’ve come so far I can make an exception,’ she said kindly.
‘How is she? My mother says she’s out of danger now.’
‘Yes, she is. Mr Simmonds, the consultant, is on the ward somewhere. I’ll just pop and get him so he can have a word with you before you see her.’
Ava waited anxiously. The doctor arrived and shook her hand.
‘I’m Mr Simmonds, Miss Marchmont. Why don’t you come with me, and we can have a chat in private.’
Ava followed him to a small office. Mr Simmonds closed the door behind her and offered her a chair. She sank into it gratefully, her legs feeling like cotton wool.
‘Miss Marchmont – or may I call you Ava? As your mother has no doubt told you, your great-aunt has had a stroke. She’s pulled through, but she’s going to need an awful lot of rehabilitation. She’ll be in hospital for another week or so but, after that, might I suggest a nursing home? They could provide the kind of intensive physiotherapy that Mrs Marchmont is going to need, and in less sterile surroundings than here. I’m hopeful that, with the right care, she should regain her speech. It’s more doubtful that she’ll regain full use of her left arm, but who knows? Your great-aunt is a formidable lady, Ava, with an iron will.’
‘Yes, she is.’ Ava was horrified by what she’d just heard. ‘You say she can’t speak?’
‘Not at present, no. I’m afraid it’s quite a common symptom with a stroke. Now, I’ve already given your mother a list of some very good places not far from here which I think you both should take a look at.’
‘Okay. Thanks for talking to me. Now, I must go and see her.’
‘Of course. I’ll take you.’
LJ was sleeping. Ava stood quietly by her bed, studying her. She looked so frail, so old.
‘Spend as long as you like with her,’ Mr Simmonds said as he walked away.
Ava went to sit by the bed and took her great-aunt’s hand. ‘Darling LJ. I’ve just seen the doctor, and he says you’re doing so well. He even said he thought you’d be ready to leave hospital quite soon and go to somewhere a little more comfortable while you recover. Isn’t that wonderful?’
Ava felt a slight pressure on her hand and saw that LJ’s eyes were open – and filled with joy at seeing her beloved great-niece.
‘I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner, but nobody told me you were ill. But I’m here now, and I promise I won’t leave you until you’re out of here.’
Ava watched LJ trying to form her mouth into words that just wouldn’t come. She noticed that the left-hand side of her aunt’s face seemed to sag downwards, as if one side of her mouth were in a permanent grimace. ‘The consultant said that, in time, you should be able to speak, but don’t worry about it now. Instead, why don’t I tell you all about London and university?’
For twenty minutes Ava spoke as cheerfully as she could about her new life, clasping LJ’s limp left hand tightly in her own and steeling herself not to be upset when she saw LJ struggle to respond. Eventually, she ran out of things to say, and noticed that LJ was gesticulating weakly with her right hand.
‘Are you conducting an orchestra?’ Ava teased her gently. LJ shook her head in frustration and mimed again until Ava finally understood what she meant.
‘You want a pen?’
LJ nodded, and indicated the drawer by the bed.
When she’d written what she wanted, LJ handed Ava the piece of notepaper. In spidery writing, it said, ‘I love you.’
‘How was it?’ asked Simon as Ava got into the car.
‘Dreadful. She can’t speak at the moment and she’s paralysed down her left arm. But the consultant did warn me that she looks far worse than she actually is. I—’ Ava’s bravado faltered for a moment. ‘And I must hang on to that,’ she managed.
‘Yes.’ Simon’s hand reached for hers and squeezed it tightly. ‘You must, sweetheart.’
When they arrived back at Marchmont, Mary was just on her way home. ‘There’s beef stew and dumplings in the Aga for your guest and a cheese salad in the fridge for you. I’ll be back in tomorrow to make you both a nice lunch. How was your aunt?’ she asked, seeing Ava’s pale face.
Ava could only shrug.
‘I know, fach, I know. But she’ll get better. You must believe that.’
‘Have you seen my mother today?’ Ava asked, to change the subject.
‘I did about an hour ago. She was about to take a bath. ’Bye now, and I’ll see you tomorrow. You take care of Ava now, won’t you, Simon? She’s had an awful shock.’
‘Of course I will.’
When Mary had left, Ava served out their meal and set it on the table.
‘Does your mother always take a bath at two o’clock in the afternoon?’ Simon asked as he began to eat.
‘Probably. She was very tired this morning, because she’s been with LJ at the hospital all week. Simon, I’ll have to stay on here for now. I can’t leave LJ until she’s at least out of hospital. And I know you have to get back for rehearsals.’
‘Well, I don’t have to leave until tomorrow, so why don’t we take a walk this afternoon? It might do you some good to get some fresh air, and I’d love to see the estate.’
Ava was just about to reply when Cheska came into the kitchen.
‘There you are! I thought I heard a car but . . .’ Cheska’s voice trailed off as her gaze fell on Simon.
‘Mother, this is my friend, Simon Hardy. Simon, my mother, Cheska Hammond.’ Ava watched as Simon’s jaw dropped.
‘You mean, the Cheska Hammond? Gigi in The Oil Barons Cheska Hammond?’
Cheska was staring at him with the oddest look in her eyes, but then she seemed to recover her equilibrium, and her lovely face broke into a broad smile. ‘Yes, it is me. And it’s so wonderful to see you! I’m sure we’ve met before. I—’ Cheska looked at him again. ‘Don’t you think?’
‘No. I would certainly remember.’ Simon smiled, rising from his chair and offering his hand politely. Instead of taking it, Cheska kissed him warmly on both cheeks.
‘Well, it’s great to meet you, Bobby.’
‘It’s Simon, Miss Hammond.’
‘Please, call me Cheska. So,’ – Cheska swept across the kitchen towards the fridge – ‘I think this calls for champagne.’
‘Not for me, Mother.’
‘Or me,’ Simon added.
‘Really?’ Cheska, bottle in hand, pouted at them. ‘But it’s so wonderful to have you here. We should celebrate.’
‘Maybe later. It’s only three o’clock i
n the afternoon,’ Ava said, completely taken aback by her mother’s behaviour in the light of what had happened to LJ.
‘Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport, Ava. But okay, we’ll save it for later. So what are we doing this afternoon?’
‘Well, Ava was going to take me out for a walk and show me the estate,’ said Simon.
‘Wonderful idea! Just what we all need, a nice breath of fresh air. I just love walking at this time of year. Autumn is so pretty, don’t you think? Let me go and change into something more sensible, and I’ll see you back here in ten minutes.’
Ava watched, confused, as Cheska practically skipped out of the room. To the best of her knowledge, her mother had never set foot on a walk any further away than the nearby woods, and she hated the cold.
‘My goodness, Cheska Hammond is your mother,’ Simon murmured, shaking his head. ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me?’
‘Is it important?’ Ava snapped and then apologised immediately.
‘No, of course it isn’t important. But when a full-blown international superstar walks into a kitchen in the middle of nowhere completely unannounced, it’s understandable to be shocked, isn’t it?’
‘Well, there you are. That’s my mother.’
‘As a matter of fact, it explains why you looked familiar the moment I saw you. And you’re every bit as beautiful as she is,’ Simon said gently.
‘Well, we’d better get ready for this walk.’ Ava stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll find you some wellingtons.’
Ten minutes later the three of them were walking down the steps from the terrace, her mother looking faintly ridiculous in an old Barbour and a pair of wellington boots that were far too big for her.
‘So, where shall we start?’ asked Cheska, linking her arm through Simon’s. ‘The woods are beautiful, especially at this time of year, and then we can take a walk by the stream.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Simon agreed.
Ava trailed behind them, amazed that Cheska hadn’t yet asked her how LJ had been that morning, and also unsettled by the territorial way her mother was behaving with Simon. Ava could see he was entranced not only by meeting Cheska, but by the attention she was lavishing upon him.
The Angel Tree Page 40