Alchemy (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Serena Fairfax

  Tamsin lifted her head and peered at the monitor, at the two hearts that beat as one. A huge smile crossed her face. All that ghastly morning sickness when she couldn’t keep down a morsel was worth every moment for this precious gift. In an unspoken truce, Luca had whisked her off, badly dehydrated, to the hospital, his expression sympathetic.

  She’d broken the news that she was expecting to Ruby, Gareth and her friends, and was showered with no end of tips and old wives’ tales.

  “Can’t get my head round I’m going to be an aunty.” Ruby whooped like a Cherokee brave in one of those old 1950s cowboy-and-Indian movies as she did a little dance on webcam.

  Gareth, full of surprises, tentatively put himself forward as a prospective godfather. He’d confided he had problems settling into the role as stepfather to his wife’s son, unable to handle his rank hostility. His wife told him bluntly she was too busy to fix, let alone compromise her reputation by trying to place his novel. Then, out of control, he was blubbing down the telephone and Tamsin found herself frantically talking him out of his fixation to become a motivational speaker.

  For a while, there was intimacy between Luca and Tamsin as she found a renewed energy. Kissing her nipples, holding the swelling belly that sharpened his lust, spreading her legs. He smelt the apple scent of her hair as he dipped deep into her, pushing his cock all the way. She gazed at his glittering eyes and climaxed under him, shouted his name, and as the dam broke they rode the waves together, he to hide his fear, and then at the final rush her chest was heaving and she was crying. He didn’t need that. They fed off each other’s unhappiness. And then there was neither conversation nor sex.

  In the twenty weeks that had passed, although Luca dutifully accompanied Tamsin to routine antenatal appointments, she knew it was only for form’s sake. Then, one day an ultrasound brought troubling results that the babies were shrimps for their gestational age, and she was sick with panic.

  “You’re in good hands,” he said, trying to calm her down. “Stop worrying, you’re not the only woman having twins.” He hurled down his book and stamped out of the room to jerk off in the privacy of his study. Never had he felt so lonely, so scared. And the nightmares, dormant for so long, had resurfaced, blasting him like a pitching ship, leaving him clammy with sweat. He persuaded himself it was only a matter of getting his act together again and riding it out.

  * * * *

  “Don’t forget, we’re expected at Vincenzo’s do tonight.” Luca buttoned his oyster cream shirt. He peered out of the window. “Another of those cold, sunless days.” Like his mood, he thought.

  Tamsin, still in bed, nodded. It had been one of those nights when she’d just waited for the dawn. “I’ve found a birthday present for his wife. I do hope she’ll like it.” She gazed at him wistfully.

  “Thanks, that’s thoughtful of you. Is it one of your lovelies?” She’d become much in demand.

  “Not this time.” Over the past few days she’s been experiencing blurred vision and pain beneath her ribs and hadn’t felt energetic enough for creativity. She cleared her throat. “She’s addicted to the color purple, so I thought a pair of amethyst earrings would do the trick. Do you know the ancient Greeks and Romans were convinced that amethysts protected from drunkenness and, in the Middle Ages, soldiers wore amethystamulets as protection in battle in the belief that amethysts heal and keep them cool-headed?”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure she’ll welcome that.”

  “Do you think this nightie will harmonize with my stilettos?” She paused, “which I’ll put on when I get back from the antenatal.”

  Luca’s face broadened into a smile, even as he tried to dampen down a rogue spark. “You’ll set a trend. Ciao for now. See you later.” He forbore to reveal that if it hadn’t been for Vincenzo’s impromptu party, he’d be on his way to a Milan clinic for the vasectomy he’d scheduled for that day.

  Dr. Kadi tested her blood pressure and her normally cheerful face became grave. “You’re into your twenty-second week and it’s abundantly clear why the babies are small. I regret”—she schooled her expression—“to have to say your symptoms are typical of severe pre-eclampsia, and it’s imperative you undergo treatment without further delay.”

  She turned and, ignoring a loudly protesting Tamsin, reached for the phone and called the ambulance service. Within the hour, Tamsin, plugged into all sorts of wires, was occupying a hospital bed in a private, high-ceilinged room.

  * * * *

  “What’s happened, Tamsin?” Luca demanded inanely. He prayed the admission was simply a precautionary measured. He stole a glance at his watch. His nerves were shot to wafers and there was nothing more to be said about their limping relationship. “Look, Vincenzo will be wondering if I’ve fallen under a bus.” He brushed her cheek with a brief kiss and squinted doubtfully at her. She looked all right to him, apart from those purple patches under her eyes. “I’ll drop by after the party. You’ll probably be ready to go home then.”

  “If you say so,” she whispered, too weak to contradict him. Dimly registering he’d closed the door, she began to sob into the pillow.

  As Luca emerged into the disinfectant-smelling corridor, the specialist obstetrician lurking outside clapped him on the shoulder.

  “A word with you, Signor Leopoldo, if I may.” He firmly propelled Luca to his office and practically shoved him into a chair. Dr. Kadi had tipped him off that she suspected Luca was being a badass.

  Luca gave him a sharp, assessing look and tried to read his expression. Hell, he was wrecking a good evening out. “I’ve an engagement. Can’t this wait?” His tone was one of weary scepticism.

  The specialist shook his head and, studying him, decided not to pull any punches. “You can whistle good-bye to the engagement and, indeed, to all engagements for the foreseeable future. It’s important for you to understand that your wife’s condition is very serious indeed.” He paused, holding up a hand as Luca attempted an interjection. “Let me finish. She’s suffering from pre-eclampsia. She has no alternative but to remain here until the babies are born.” He pushed back his chair, crossed to the water fountain in the corner of the room and filled two glasses. “Furthermore, it’s unlikely…” This isn’t the moment for delicacy, he thought, confident that Luca could take it. “The pregnancy will continue until term.”

  Luca balled his hands into fists, got up and began pacing. “When do you expect the twins to be born?”

  “If the signora’s lucky, at twenty-six weeks.” The specialist rubbed his chin. “How can I put it in layman’s terms? Yes. You see, although the little ones are formed, the vital organs are insufficiently developed to enable them to survive if born now. Let’s hope and pray your wife is able to squeeze as many weeks as possible out of the situation. I’m not being alarmist, but I’d be failing in my duty if I don’t warn you that the prospect of a successful outcome for her”—he paused—“or the babies is disturbingly low.”

  Luca brooded briefly. “Why?”

  Outside, the strident wail of a police car siren punctured the silence of the night.

  “The severity of pre-eclampsia and its inevitable byproduct HELLP, which is shorthand for haemolysis, elevated liver enzymes and low platelets, unfortunately carries a high risk of fatality,” he said quietly. “I have to caution you—brace yourself, get up your defenses.”

  “Oh my God. That is so…awful.” The way the specialist put it sent needles of ice through Luca. Another tsunami of fear flooded him as, white-knuckled, he clutched the edge of the desk, the words of an old song, “you made me love you, I didn’t mean to do it,” gutted through his thoughts.

  He recalled their lovemaking. The way Tamsin’s luxuriant pussy tickled his cock, her familiar floral scent that filled his nostrils, her warm breath on his as she sucked and licked, her sweet smile. “I’d no idea the situation was so…complicated. What can be done?” he stammered. What have I done? Tested again, he’d failed.

  The specialist twiddled his pen. “Me
dically, I assure you we’re doing our utmost. But we’re also very concerned at Tamsin’s state of mind. She has stopped battling. Stay with her, tell her how much she means to you.” He said it in such a way that Luca felt the corollary was you may never get another chance to do so.

  Luca floundered in silence, trying to filter the things he’d heard—he looks a different person, the specialist thought—then abruptly he pushed himself to his feet and hastened to Tamsin’s bedside. She lifted her head slightly, blinking her astonishment at seeing him again so soon.

  “Dolcezza,” he said tenderly and, looking deep into her eyes, stooped to kiss her. He drew up a chair and reached for her hand. “You and me, we’re on the same side. We’re in this together and we’ll get through this together.”

  “Luca…” she murmured. “I…”

  “Hush, my darling, turn that down or you’ll annoy the neighbors!” He was damn well near to tears and clenched his eyes shut against them.

  She squeezed his hand. He held it until she fell into a light, sedated sleep and the tension left her face. If she’d told him to get lost and never come back, he wouldn’t have blamed her.

  Chapter 11

  Shambling from the room, Luca called Ruby and Gareth and Tamsin’s best friends, who got cracking on organizing a visit rota to lift her spirits, bringing laughter and love, gifts and games, chocolates and candy to see her through the long, anxious haul to term.

  Luca holed himself up with Tamsin twenty-four-seven, forgetting the new appointment he’d made for a vasectomy and growling at the syrupy woman from the clinic who called to remind him. Too nervous to go home, to take any more stupid risks, he spent desperate, sleepless hours in a small, plain room set aside for him next door to Tamsin, only signing himself out to take Beau on long, tiring walks.

  “And here’s your cocktail.” Luca ruffled her hair, trying to get a smile from her as a nurse entered pushing a trolley piled with drugs.

  Even with heavy doses of medication and complete bed rest, Tamsin’s blood pressure soared with every passing day. A fortnight later, at twenty-four weeks pregnant, HELPP muscled in and the specialist advised that unless the babies were delivered immediately she was unlikely to survive. Her body was shutting down.

  “We must induce labor. Time is precious.” The specialist’s expression was somber. In a blunt aside to Luca, he muttered that at the outside, she had twenty-four to thirty-six hours max.

  “My babies.” Tamsin burst into tears. “I want my babies.”

  My Tamsin, my life. Life without her was too painful to speculate. I must stay calm for her. Luca sat on the bed and held her as the specialist quietly told them that each baby weighed less than 500 grams.

  “The early gestation and low weight means the infants face an enormous challenge, which will reduce their chances very considerably, even with maximum medical intervention.”

  “Can’t they be placed on ventilators?” Luca asked as he stroked Tamsin’s cheek.

  “If, by some miracle, they manage to overcome a long period of artificial intervention, they’re likely to be blind and suffer significant physical and mental handicap.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll leave you to discuss the matter, but please, please bear in mind that time’s of the essence.”

  Tamsin was crying and Luca held her against his chest. I must be strong for her. “Tesoro, I’m here for you.”

  “I’m being punished,” she screamed. “I’m being punished.”

  “Darling. That’s nonsense, don’t talk like that.” He looked into her haunted eyes, having no idea what she meant. He felt so guilty that his rejection of the pregnancy may have contributed to the stress that caused the hypertension that, in turn, triggered pre-eclampsia.

  Together, holding each other, they made the lead weight decision, the heart-wrenching decision, not to seek resuscitation of the twins when they were born.

  “I’ll never forgive myself for not letting them live.” Tamsin was so weak she could barely move.

  “I’d never forgive myself if I never again felt your hands in mine.” Dread was eating away at him like the Ebola virus. No longer did he need his parents or Salvatore or Catarina. He knew it was Tamsin he needed. She’s my anchor. He tucked her closer to him as, desperate to drink himself senseless, he placed the consent form on his knee and signed it with a wobbly hand that at first refused to do his bidding.

  With Luca murmuring encouragement, during a difficult labor lasting twelve hours, the twins were born. The girl first, weighing in at just 451 grams and, twelve minutes later, her little brother at 387 grams.

  In the antiseptic, gleaming delivery room, a void of silence jarred. No heartbeats thumped on the monitor, no excited voices yelled out gender, there were no deafening squawks from healthy lungs.

  Tamsin felt utterly crumpled, too disoriented to ask for her little ones. But then Luca, holding the twins in his arms, came to her. With their heads together, they whispered words of love in their tiny ears, kissed their sweet little lips, gently fingered the dark eyelashes, gazed in wonder at the dinky fingernails, the fragile limbs, the little noses that would never breathe the fresh air.

  “They’re like the dolls I had as a child, but infinitely more beautiful and so perfect.” She broke down. “I wanted them more than anything else in the world.”

  His arm tightened round a heaving Tamsin. “You were so brave. You made the long journey, sweetheart.”

  She was sobbing inconsolably. “My stars have gone forever. I wish I were dead.”

  Discharged from hospital ten days later, grasping photos of the little ones and cherishing their palm- and footprints, she sobbed and clung to a stricken Luca as the babies were laid to rest in a tiny grave, at Tamsin’s wish, alongside Patrick and Eve. The thought of the empty nursery was like a stake through her heart and she felt a part of her had died with the children.

  * * * *

  Everywhere I go here reminds me of what I lost. I should never have come back. Gray with misery, Tamsin, still feeling a terrible emptiness, dragged herself into the workshop three months after the day she’d gift wrapped the amethyst earrings. Picking up the silver-framed photo of the twins, she kissed it, not for the first time feeling like drowning herself in the lake.

  Luca straightened out and climbed back into the old routine. He had his work, she only that terrible hollow. She’d not wanted to celebrate their first wedding anniversary or to make love, and he’d not forced himself on her.

  One late spring evening, she burst out. “Is it over? I fell in love with you and…you broke my heart.”

  Luca zapped off the TV and, sitting beside her, lifted her onto his lap.

  Earlier that day, Vincenzo had notified him that the first tranche of twenty per cent had been released.

  “Tamsin’s still in a bad way,” Luca said quietly, feeling sick to the stomach.

  “Do you want her enough to get through this?” Vincenzo had inquired bluntly.

  For a long moment, it seemed Luca was not going to answer, then he said slowly, letting go a shaky breath, “I realize I do, desperately. But I don’t know if I can hold her, if there’s any connective tissue left.”

  “It’s not too late. Go to her. Tell her. Hell, man, drop that stupid pride of yours.”

  “If the window is open…”

  “Give her time. She’s a prize worth fighting for. If the situation is unredeemable, release her with dignity…and love. You’ll forfeit the balance, but at least you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you tried to follow through.”

  Luca snapped back to the present. “Sorry, sweetheart, I know I’ve hardly been a ray of sunshine.” Why did I let this happen to us? His nerves knotted, but he was ready for the pain. He wasn’t going to walk away from the biggest challenge in his life. “I treasure you, want you, whatever it takes. I want you back. I want to wake up every morning beside you.”

  She blinked, nervously licking her dry lips. “ I don’t know what can come of it. For so long, you’ve been tra
cing the same path. You’re still holding out on me. You never told me the real reason why you don’t want a baby, only that stupid, cruel mantra that I can’t bring myself to repeat…” She felt so cut off from him, didn’t really know if she’d reached the place where they could talk.

  He took a deep breath and stroked her hair, feeling braver than when he’d spoken to Vincenzo. “Darling, it’s hard, but I’ll try.”

  “I want the truth.”

  His fingers tightened round the glass of Scotch. “When Dad and Mum died, the trauma of loss was so deep it never left me. I felt I could never put any child of mine through that. I was scared I wouldn’t be a good father. Then, buried inside me was a terrible guilt of survivorship that’s always haunted me. Guilt that I never want any child of mine to experience. And then,” he blurted out, “I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy. I was afraid to love, afraid it would be snatched away from me again. I couldn’t bear that.”

  Tamsin stared. “You’re more messed up than me. Why didn’t you say?”

  Luca said slowly, “It was difficult…we men don’t talk about our fears, our feelings. I wanted to protect you from my hangups. It took me a long time to figure it out on my own.”

  “Didn’t you think you ought to see a cognitive behavior therapist?”

  “That sucks. I kinda hoped to sort myself out in time.”

  “But you never did. You just roamed wildly through it, slashing here, there and everywhere.”

  “I honestly had no idea where, how, to begin.” His face took on bitterness. “Mum and Dad failed me. I didn’t want to fail my child—was scared I would.”

  A shaft of moonlight shone on the silver ornaments, illuminating the room, and Tamsin felt herself shifting from helplessness to hope.

  She was puzzled. “How do you mean, failed you? From what I’ve gathered you had a golden childhood up until that dreadful night.”

  His eyes closed. “By not safeguarding themselves. By not leaving when all sensible people did. By clinging on foolishly, exposing us to danger.”