Her Nine Month Confession

by Kim Lawrence

  ‘Is it...?’

  ‘Emmy has been admitted to hospital.’

  ‘What happened? Did she fall? Is there anything broken?’

  ‘No. She’s ill. I don’t know what with. She’s ill and I need to get home, that’s all I know. But it’s a bank holiday or something and there isn’t a spare seat on any flight until Monday.’ Hearing the husky tremor in her voice, she swallowed and lifted her chin. ‘You came in a private plane?’

  She saw the anger flare in his eyes and misinterpreted it.

  ‘I wouldn’t ask but...’

  She was asking, that was the point. She was acting as though he needed to be asked. As though he needed to be persuaded to help when his daughter was ill.

  He reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out his phone and began to punch in numbers. He lifted a finger, said, ‘Give me a minute,’ and turned away.

  Lily watched as he walked a few yards away and then began to pace back and forth as he spoke into his phone. The conversation did not last long before he slid it back into his pocket and joined her.

  ‘I’ll pick you up in an hour. Tell your mother we should be there by breakfast.’

  She expelled a deep sigh of relief. ‘That’s...’ She moved forward to embrace him, but something in his expression stopped her.

  ‘You don’t need to thank me or be grateful, Lily. She’s my daughter too.’

  Aware she had offended him but too preoccupied to figure out how or why, she nodded and said, ‘An hour?’

  The vagueness in her voice brought his searching scrutiny to her face. What he saw there made him catch hold of her hands and pull her around to face him. He didn’t have to be an expert to recognise shock when he saw it.

  ‘You need to... Lily...!’ The sound of her name drew Lily’s green, oddly flat stare up to his. Through his hold on her narrow, delicate wrists, he could feel the tremors that were striking intermittently through her body. Ben took a deep breath and spoke slowly. ‘You need to pack and...’ He stopped. Two things were obvious: she was not listening, or at least not hearing him, and he was way out of his depth. Being excluded was bad but this... This, he decided, was way worse.

  Lily looked at him and thought, Why is he telling me this? Does he think I’m stupid or something?

  ‘It’s fine. I’ll sort it.’

  He led her back to the bungalow, emptied a miniature of brandy from the bar into a glass, stood over her while she swallowed the contents with a grimace and then she set about packing.

  * * *

  When he returned Lily looked pale, her big eyes haunted, but she no longer looked as though she were sleepwalking.

  ‘I’m all packed,’ she said, nodding to the cases by the door.

  ‘Your mum is expecting us?’

  She nodded and stood up as he hefted her bags. As he approached the door with one under each arm she hurried to open it for him. ‘The hotel rang her back for me. I should never have left Emmy with her.’

  ‘Are you going to beat yourself up all the way? Just a question—it’s fine, feel free.’ He gestured towards his pocket. ‘I brought my earphones just in case.’

  The twitch of her lips almost constituted a smile. ‘How long will it take...to get back?’

  ‘It will seem a lot longer if you clock watch.’

  She nodded, then clamped a hand to her mouth, covering a strangled sob. ‘Sorry.’

  The sound made something he chose not to name twist in his chest. ‘You don’t have to be sorry.’ Ben felt a stab of shame that he had ever privately compared her maternal instincts with Signe’s. ‘I don’t know, but from what people say kids can be ill one minute and bouncing around the next.’

  Lily nodded.

  A firm believer in straight talking, Ben was beginning to appreciate that there were times when it wasn’t appropriate. ‘But I suppose the medical establishment quite rightly tend to err on the side of caution when it comes to kids...’

  She seized eagerly on his observation, nodding as she said, ‘That’s true. Mum only took Emmy to the doctor’s because she just seemed a little off colour...and he said just to be on the safe side...so it’s probably nothing, but I need to get back to her.’

  The catch in her voice made the knot of unaccustomed emotion in his throat tighten. ‘You will,’ he promised huskily.

  Lily took a deep breath and fought to damp down the rising sense of raw desperation, glad of the weight of the hand that had fallen on her shoulder.

  * * *

  She had never flown in anything nearly as luxurious as the private jet. Another time she might have enjoyed being waited on by the attentive staff, but as it was the time ticked by and the tension and fear inside her grew.

  She wouldn’t even have eaten had Ben not stood over and threatened to force-feed her if she didn’t.

  She pretended to be indignant, but she was actually rather touched that he was making such an effort to make her feel comfortable. Not that he personally brought her coffee or offered her a selection of glossy magazines—his staff did that. But for some reason when he left the cabin to talk to the pilot or take one of the numerous calls he received, it was harder to keep the dark fears in her head at bay.

  Which was stupid; he had no magic power. What he did have was a presence. He radiated calm command. Normally it would probably have irritated her, but in this instance it made her feel as though everything would be all right.

  Normally on a flight Ben either slept or worked. On this one he did neither—he just watched Lily. He’d been worried that she was going to fall apart but as the time passed he realised this wasn’t going to happen. She was totally terrified—she didn’t realise, but every thought in her head registered on her face—but Lily Gray, he realised, had an inner strength.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AS THEY EMERGED from the airport terminal, Ben took her elbow and led her to a waiting car. It was long and low with blacked-out windows and Ben spoke to the driver before sliding in beside her.

  ‘Until I know what’s happening I’d like to—’

  ‘You don’t want me there.’

  She flicked an anxious look at his face. There was nothing to read in those strong lines and angles but she knew that she’d offended him. She seemed to have a knack at this and on this occasion she really didn’t want to.

  ‘You’ve been so kind.’

  His chiselled jaw tightened. ‘Kind is what a stranger is. I’m a father.’ Sounds good but what does it mean? What did he actually know about being a father? Oh, arranging transport and second opinions he could do. That was the easy stuff. The other things...what if he was no good at them? What if he was a lousy father? His own father had probably meant well, but that hadn’t stopped him failing miserably. Two parents waging their own silent war of attrition and he’d been the silent casualty.

  ‘I didn’t mean...’ She looked at his shuttered profile and, responding to an instinct she didn’t pause to analyse, laid her small hand on his.

  Ben looked from the small hand to her face. The muscles in his brown throat worked as he swallowed but his expression revealed nothing.

  ‘You’re a good mother.’

  She blinked at the abrupt declaration before responding with a guilty flood of self-recrimination. ‘I wasn’t there... I should have been... Emmy needed me and I was with you—’

  Ben felt the tortured guilt in the swimming green eyes that met his like a dull knife sliding between his ribs. He pressed a finger to her lips. ‘You are now.’

  She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘When I was a kid I had a fall...fractured my skull.’ He lifted a hand to the side of his head. ‘There was internal bleeding and they had to operate to relieve the pressure. When my mother arrived—a week later—she was very concerned about the scars that
might spoil my looks. Luckily the hair they’d shaved grew back. You are a good mother.’

  A week...there were obviously scars that his hair did not hide. A good mother...who knew? But at least I’m not a monster, Lily thought soberly.

  ‘So go be a good mum and I’ll be around when you need me.’ Earning his right to call himself a father.

  ‘It’s not that... Mum will be there on the ward, you see, and you... The explanations on top of everything else... I’m not trying to...exclude you.’

  There was a long pause before he nodded. ‘I have some calls to make. I’ll have Martin...’ he nodded towards the driver behind the glass screen ‘...drive around the block until you’re finished.’

  ‘But I might be a long time,’ she protested.

  He shrugged and handed her a mobile phone. ‘Then you’re a long time, but in case you need...anything.’

  She looked at the phone.

  ‘It has my number in it.’

  * * *

  Lily watched the man’s lips move. Words came out, she could hear them, recognise them, but the words seemed disjointed, nothing he was saying made sense because this wasn’t happening. She put down the full teacup, the contents cold, and turned her head to look through the glass partition where Emmy was sitting up in bed. She was wearing her favourite pyjamas and giggling as her grandmother pretended to search for the toy she clutched in her chubby little hands—it was one of her favourite games.

  The emotion swelled in Lily’s chest, the ache so intense that it drew a rasping sigh from her pale lips. This couldn’t be happening. Emmy was too little, too... It was not fair!

  Life isn’t fair, said the unsympathetic voice in her head.

  ‘Are there any questions you would like to ask me?’

  Lily slowly turned her head; she felt weirdly frozen inside. ‘Are you sure? Could there be a mistake? Results can get mixed up.’ The magazines were always full of such stories. Hope flared and died in her eyes as the doctor, firm but sympathetic, put a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Your daughter is a very poorly little girl.’

  Lily bit her lip, drawing blood but not noticing the metallic coppery taste on her tongue. ‘But I’d have noticed.’ Should have noticed. The guilt was there; it never went away. Her job as a mother was to protect...and she hadn’t.

  ‘This is not your fault.’

  ‘Then whose fault is it?’ she hissed, anger flaring then fizzling like cold ashes as he responded.

  ‘Nobody’s fault. The onset is notoriously insidious—the symptoms are often missed at this stage by professionals. Your GP did well to pick them up when he did, which puts us in a good position.’

  Lily seized eagerly onto his words. ‘It does?’

  ‘At this stage ninety-five per cent of children go into remission following a bone-marrow transplant.’

  Hope fluttered inside her skull. ‘So bone marrow is a cure?’

  ‘I don’t want to raise your hopes.’

  Too late, she thought, fighting a mixture of frustration and trepidation as he consulted the tablet he held.

  A bunch of figures that spelt out her baby’s future.

  The man laid the tablet aside and removed his glasses. ‘Though the number of bone-marrow donors have increased over recent years...’

  Anticipating the but, Lily rushed into speech. ‘She can have mine, can’t she?’ She laid her arm on the table and began to roll up her sleeve. ‘Take what you like.’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid,’ the man said gently. ‘I don’t want to be negative, but the fact is that your daughter has an extremely rare blood group.’

  Lily closed her eyes and released a low sigh as she finally realised where he was going. ‘And I don’t.’

  ‘I have already discussed the subject of compatibility with your mother. She was unsure of the situation, Emily’s father...paternal relatives. It is a relatively minor procedure for the donor though there is some discomfort involved.’

  Lily surged to her feet feeling the first fluttering of real hope. ‘Her father, he’ll do it.’

  The doctor gave a cautious smile and reminded gently, ‘He’ll need to be tested.’

  She tilted her head again. ‘He’ll do it?’ She heard the question in her own voice and from his questioning expression so did the doctor. ‘He’ll want to.’

  And if he didn’t?

  She pushed the question away, she had to, because the other option... Her thoughts came up against the self-protective wall she had erected and bounced back.

  Back on the ward, Lily gave an edited version of what the doctor had told her to her mother. They spoke softly because Emmy had fallen asleep, her thumb in her mouth. Looking at her made Lily’s heart ache. That anyone so innocent should suffer...it seemed so wrong.

  Elizabeth sat there in silence during Lily’s halting delivery and then, with a hand pressed to her mouth, rushed from the room.

  Lily found her a few moments later in the corridor, red-faced, but calm. ‘This is the last thing you need. I’m sorry I didn’t want Emmy to see... How are you, darling?’ She held out her arms.

  After a few moments Lily pulled free of the warm maternal embrace. ‘I’m fine.’ Empty was a better description, empty but for the sense of purpose that she focused on with tunnel-like determination.

  ‘I have to leave, Mum.’

  ‘But why? To go where?’

  ‘I’ll explain later, but I’ll be back soon, I promise, and you have to go home for some sleep when I do.’ She kissed her mother’s smooth cheek. ‘You look exhausted.’

  ‘It’s not me I’m worried about.’

  Lily’s voice thickened. ‘Have I said thank you for being there...for everything...?’

  ‘What you don’t seem to realise is that what you’d do for Emmy I would do for you. You’re still my little girl.’

  There were tears in Lily’s eyes as she walked down the corridor. She dabbed at them impatiently and reminded herself there was hope. Outside it had begun to drizzle. Standing on the wet pavement, she fished out the phone Ben had given her and pressed the dial key. He picked up almost straight away.

  ‘Ben, it’s Lily, could you—?’

  She stopped as a long limo drew up beside her, a window swished down and Ben, phone to his ear, leaned out.

  Lily laughed. She hadn’t really believed he was going to drive around the block.

  ‘Need a lift?’

  She nodded and the door swung open.

  ‘Where to?’ He studied her face and watched a single tear slide down her cheek, then another. He felt as if someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. ‘Oh, baby!’ He reached for her and she drew back, a hand extended to ward him off.

  ‘Do not touch me...don’t!’ she quivered out.

  He stiffened.

  ‘It’s not you, it’s me...if you touch me I’ll start crying and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop!’ she wailed.

  He touched a teardrop on her cheek with his thumb. ‘You’re already crying.’

  With a sob she flung herself at him. Ben looked down at the fiery head pressed to his chest. After a pause his arms went around her and he let her cry herself out while he signalled the driver to carry on driving.

  Embarrassed by her outburst and ashamed of her weakness, she finally pulled away. ‘I must look terrible.’

  ‘You look...’ He stopped, an odd expression spreading across his face before he said abruptly, ‘Fine. So...?’

  He was prepared for the worst. He had been from the moment she had slid into the car emanating the sort of tension that did not say good news. And then she had started crying. He had never heard sobs like that before. They seemed to have been dragged from deep inside her. The sense of helplessness he had felt remained, a cold knot
in his gut. He had dated beautiful women, women who were well groomed and elegant, and yet as he looked at Lily sitting there, her tear-stained face bare of all make-up, her hair a wild tangle, it struck him that he had never seen any woman look more beautiful.

  ‘Sorry, I should have told you straight away.’

  He took a deep breath. He was... No...prepared was a joke. Some things you couldn’t be prepared for.

  ‘She’s very ill—ʼ

  She sniffed, visibly fighting for control, and Ben smothered a wave of protective concern that made him want to take her in his arms again. He was conscious that in her emotionally vulnerable state even small gestures could be misinterpreted, taken for something they were not.

  He might be a bastard but he was at least an honest one. He’d never raised a woman’s expectations in his life.

  ‘Very ill, it’s a...her blood. The doctor explained, but her best hope is a bone-marrow transplant.’

  There was hope.

  Listening, Ben knew how a man in a very long very black tunnel felt when a light appeared. He had a dozen questions but he closed his mouth, stifled his impatience and instead prompted gently.

  ‘That’s good.’

  Her face told him there was a but coming.

  ‘She has a very rare blood type and the chances of a donor being found in time are slim. Her main...only hope, really, is a compatible blood relative. I’m not compatible—’ It still felt like a kind of failure that she wasn’t able to be the one to save her child’s life.

  As soon as she mentioned the blood group he recognised the significance.

  ‘But I am.’

  Lily nodded. ‘It seems likely. I don’t really know about these things but I’m assuming if she didn’t get my blood group she got yours? Though they wouldn’t know for sure until they test you, but... I told him that you’d do it.’ She felt his long fingers tighten on her forearm and looked down, not realising until that moment that he was holding her.

  She looked up, wondering uneasily if she had taken too much for granted. Obviously she would do anything for her daughter, but Ben didn’t even know her. He wanted to be involved, but she still couldn’t shake the fear that deep down he might even resent her existence.