“What’s the matter with her?”
Harry went silent for a moment. “They think she might have bleeding on her brain.”
Blood drained from her face and nausea pooled in her stomach. “A stroke?” No. It was impossible.
“Or a tumour, or a knock to the head, but they can’t see anything that suggests that, and I’m not aware of her sustaining any injury. Did she say anything to you about hitting her head?”
“No.” Michelle shivered. Could she have knocked her head after she had stormed off?
“She hasn’t regained consciousness. They’re doing tests,” Harry continued.
“Which hospital? Can I come and see you?” She threw back the covers.
“It’s late. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”
“No, you did the right thing. I want to come down. Please, tell me the details and I’ll be there. Can I bring anything?”
“No.” His voice wobbled. He told her the details of the hospital and she promised she was on her way. She found a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the day before and threw on a long cardigan over the top and a pair of shoes. She didn’t know if it matched, and couldn’t care whether it did or not.
She glanced at the dress Bebe made her, crumpled over the back of a chair. She physically ached at their disagreement only a few hours before, and Bebe’s obvious pain over not knowing her father. Michelle had been so harsh on her. It had been wrong.
She threw her clutch bag from that evening into her bigger handbag and grabbed her keys. She tiptoed through the house so as not to wake anyone else and slipped out the back door, locking it securely behind her.
The drive was mercifully quick thanks to the lack of traffic. She found a car park and made her way through the corridors to where Harry had said he was, momentarily becoming lost before spotting him, leaning against a wall.
Her heart ached. His usually friendly, smiling face was pale. Pure fear, pain, and uncertainty were written all over it.
She rushed to him, calling his name. He looked up and she flew into his arms, clinging to him tightly. His tears spilled into her hair, but she didn’t care. He needed to get this out.
He’d once told her that Tessa was like family to him, and she’d thought that a little unusual for a work colleague, but right then, he felt like family to her, and his pain was hers.
“How did this happen? I don’t understand. She’s so young and fit.”
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his wavy hair. “It’s all a blur.”
“Let’s sit down,” she said, taking him by the arm and leading him to a series of hard, plastic chairs lined up against a wall. “What happened?”
“She came over to my place, and she told me she was sorry and missed me. I was thrilled. It was like we were going to talk about getting back together.” He swallowed and rubbed his forehead. “She was in my arms, and I thought she’d fallen asleep. I moved my arm to lay her down so she could rest but when I did, I realised her face had drooped. I tried to wake her, but I couldn’t.” He swallowed and brought his hands to his face.
Michelle exhaled. “I’m so sorry.”
“I called an ambulance and we came straight here.”
Michelle’s entire body went numb. Had her disagreement with Bebe triggered this? She didn’t know if this sort of issue could be caused by shock. Maybe she should ring Lauren and ask her. “We had a fight. Could the stress have caused this?”
Harry shook his head. “I’m no doctor, but I doubt it. She’d complained of headaches before, but she’d always chalked them up to not getting enough sleep or not drinking enough water.”
She grasped Harry’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I know that you care about her.”
“She’s the one. I know I came on too strong and she panicked. I don’t blame her. It was too soon. I should have waited and let things happen more slowly, but when you know, you know.”
Michelle wasn’t sure if she did know. She had convinced herself Ashton was the one, but he most certainly wasn’t. And Leon? She couldn’t stop thinking about him, but she didn’t think he considered her the ‘the one’. If he did, he would have given her a second chance.
She took Harry’s hand and squeezed it. “She’ll be fine. It’s destiny, you know. The world can’t be deprived of her yet.”
“It can’t. I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Can I help? Is there anything I can do?”
He shook his head then paused. “Actually, I need to reach her mother. I have Bebe’s phone but it’s locked and I can’t get into it. I don’t have her home number. Should I go over there?”
“How about I go?” Michelle didn’t want to leave him by himself, but she also didn’t want him on the roads in his current state. She could get to Bebe’s apartment quickly at this time of night, and then bring Petra back with her. It would be the simplest solution. “It’s not far. I’ll take my car and be back before you know it. I think it’s a good idea if you stay here.” She squeezed Harry’s hand and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Thanks,” Harry said, his shoulders dropping. “You’re a good friend to her, Michelle.”
“Not as much as I should have been,” she said. The guilt made her feel physically ill.
“I know about her confusion over her father. She told me everything.” He hesitated. “I think she was looking for something she never had. You’re lucky, Michelle, you know, and I can’t blame Bebe for maybe thinking your family would be something nice to be involved in. She wouldn’t have meant any harm.”
Michelle was lucky to have her family. “I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm.” She swung her handbag over her shoulder. “Let me collect Petra. She needs to know.”
“Thanks, Michelle.”
She gave Harry another hug, and walked back to her car. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’ll text you the address.” His hand shook as he keyed in the numbers.
After retrieving her car from the car park, she drove towards the address Harry had texted her. There was no traffic on the roads and she arrived at the apartment complex quickly. She buzzed the apartment, but there was no answer. She buzzed again, and finally, a cranky voice answered, “yes?”
“Petra? It’s Michelle. I’m a friend of Bebe’s. Something has happened. She’s in the hospital.”
“What?” Petra’s voice crackled and gasped. “Come up.”
The door opened and Michelle entered, pushing the lift button and cursing how long it was taking. She emerged from the lift and saw Petra in a robe, white-faced at the doorway. “Bebe? Where is she?” she whispered.
Michelle’s heart broke, not only for Bebe and Harry but also for Petra. For so many years, her large family had been a hindrance and she’d longed for peace, but she’d always had lots of people around her to love her and care for her.
Looking at Petra’s scared and uncertain face, Michelle realised she only had Bebe in this world, and there was a risk she could lose her forever.
Chapter 44
In a world between being awake and asleep the mind played funny tricks on one’s thoughts. Bebe could hear people talking, sirens and feel her body being moved.
Conversations, words and sounds buzzed around her, little making sense.
She’d slip in and out, but finally, she awoke in a bright room. She gasped for breath.
Looking around, she still wasn’t sure what world she was in—the real world or a strange mismatch of being half awake and half asleep. She was in a hospital, lying on a bed and hooked up to a machine. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry.
“Hello?” she croaked, and within moments, the room was bustling with doctors and nurses. It was a blur of activity.
“What happened to me?”
A doctor appeared and pulled up a chair next to the bed. The words mushed together. A tumour, but they had undertaken a CT scan, where it appeared to be small and contained, which was a positive sign. They
were going to perform surgery as soon as they could.
She felt tears rolling down her cheeks. “I want my mother.”
The doctor nodded, and within moments, her mother was there.
“Oh, darling. I should have taken you the doctor myself, I was so worried about these headaches, but you’ll be fine, I know it.”
Bebe looked down. “I don’t know.”
“It’s not your time.”
More tears splashed down her cheeks. “There’s something I need to know.”
“What?” Her mother grasped her hand tightly.
“Who is my father?”
Her mother stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Please, you have to tell me the truth. Is Arne my father?”
“Of course. What is all this about? Why would you think that he wasn’t?”
“You never talk about him.”
Her mother sighed, and sat down, her shoulders more rounded than usual, making her look less like the fierce, and elegant art curator Bebe had lived her life with. “I find it hard to talk about him. I loved him. I still love him.” She swallowed. “I never felt that I could move on, and certainly have never met anyone who measured up to him.”
Bebe felt tears prickle in the corner of her eyes. She’d never had any idea her mother had felt that strongly about him. “Why didn’t you tell me that?” she whispered.
“I only ever sought to protect you from the feelings of loss that I had over him. I felt that if I always went on about him that you would feel so terribly sad, but I didn’t realise that you were so curious.”
“I asked and you shut me down. You always changed the subject. I thought you were hiding things, and when I heard what you said once about…” She paused. “What about Greg Fitzgerald?”
“Greg Fitzgerald?” Her mother sounded bewildered. “Oh, I used to work with him.”
“I found that card in your things, and I thought…”
Her mother gave an explosive snort. “Oh goodness, no. A nice man and he was very caring, but no.”
“Why did you keep the card from him? I mean, you keep nothing. There’re so few photos of my father. There’s two and Greg is in one of them.”
“That’s all I had. I wish I had more, but we didn’t take many.” Tears appeared in the corner of her eyes.
“But the card?” Bebe whispered.
“I kept that card as I needed to remind myself of what I left behind. I kept that as inspiration when I had moments wondering if I was doing the right thing dragging you around the globe. I wanted to give us the world. But now I fear you are disappointed.” She frowned. “No white picket fence?”
“I’m not disappointed. I just wondered what it would be like.”
She swallowed. She had to ask. “So, the man who wouldn’t leave his family? That wasn’t Greg.”
“What?” Petra’s tone was sharp.
“I heard you talking with a friend, years ago when we lived in London. You were in tears and said that this man couldn’t be a father to me as he wouldn’t leave his family.”
Her mother’s eyes became watery and she brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my darling. I’m so sorry you jumped to conclusions.”
“I wondered.”
Petra looked down and gave a regretful sigh. “It wasn’t one of my finest hours. When you were small, I had a relationship with a director of the gallery I worked at in London. He said he’d leave his wife, and move to Paris with us and we’d be a family together. I had hoped that he would be like a father to you in a way. Of course,” she gave a nonchalant wave, “he didn’t, so we went without him.”
“You and me. Me and you.”
Her mother smiled. “Exactly. I knew at that moment that it was only us and it always would be.”
“And I’ve loved it. You’ve given me an amazing life. It’s hard to keep up with you.”
“I wanted to inspire you and give you the world.”
“You did.” Bebe gave a sob.
“But I never meant to rob you completely of your father and I’m so sorry if you felt I did.” She stroked some strands of Bebe’s hair back. “You remind me so much of him. He would have been so proud of you.”
“What was he like? I’m sorry if it hurts but I want to know.”
Her mother smiled. “He was a good artist. He could draw well.”
He did? “What did he draw?”
“Just sketches, really. Faces. Your drawings remind me of his.”
“What else?” She had to know everything. All the things she’d never known about her father, were now hers to find out.
“It was his idea to call you Bebe. It means baby in French and Spanish.”
“I know.” The name had been a little tedious when she’d lived in France.
Her mother smiled. “But it also means ‘traveller’ in Latin.”
She didn’t know that. “That’s sort of appropriate.”
“It was the most perfect suggestion he could have made.” Her mother took her hand and squeezed it. “He’d been so excited that we would all explore the world together. I wanted to keep that dream alive, but I should have kept the memory of him alive by telling you about him. He was a wonderful man, Bebe. I’m so sorry you never had the chance to meet him.”
“I’m so scared,” she whispered. Would she live? She still had so much she wanted to achieve. And Harry? She’d only just got him back, she wanted a chance with him.
“Don’t be,” Petra soothed. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise you that.”
They grasped hands and Bebe knew that if any of this was in her mother’s power, she knew that she wouldn’t let her down.
Chapter 45
The words hit Michelle like a truck. A brain tumour? She exhaled as Petra told her. “I’m so sorry. Is she going to be okay?”
“The doctors are confident that we have good treatment options. She’s strong and otherwise healthy. She’s well-placed to take the surgery and follow up treatment well.”
“She is.”
Petra frowned. “You’re Michelle Fitzgerald. I didn’t realise when you appeared at my door.” Her tone was curious, but her expression emotionless. She was an interesting woman. Tall and thin with a narrow face, even with no make-up in the early hours of the morning there was still a certain gravitas to her. She gave Michelle a once over and raised an eyebrow. “You have your father’s nose.”
Michelle brought her hand to her nose, uncertain as to whether this was a compliment. Did she want her father’s nose? She wasn’t sure there was anything wrong with it for a man, but for her? “Err. Thanks?”
“Bebe told me what happened.” Petra’s voice was smooth. “We’ve had a talk, but I’m sorry if she caused you, or your family, any stress in this idea she had about your father.”
“It’s fine.” The disagreement with Bebe felt like a lifetime ago now. And with what Michelle knew now about Bebe’s health, it simply didn’t matter.
“Greg was a nice man.”
“He is.”
“He was very kind to me when Arne died.” Petra frowned. “What is he doing now?”
“The same. Same job. Same house.”
Petra gave a considered nod. “Hmmm. A man of routine. He used to eat the same sandwich every day at lunchtime.”
“He probably still does.”
Harry came from the room, and while he still looked pale, he was smiling.
“How is she?” Michelle asked.
“She’s okay. I’m just glad she’s awake.”
“Can I see her?” She looked at Petra, then Harry.
“For a few minutes,” Petra said. “She’s tired and they said she might have some memory loss, but she’s not showing any so far. They are going to prep her for surgery soon.”
Michelle crept through the corridors until she found Bebe’s room and saw Bebe lying on a bed, her eyes closed, but as they fluttered open, Michelle raced to the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry, Bebe. I know you’ll be fine.”
Bebe nodded. “I hope so. They think it is contained and hopefully benign. They will operate though and I’m so scared.”
“We’re all here for you.” Michelle grasped her hand. “I promise you. Is there anything we can do?”
“Will you forgive me?” Bebe asked.
“No. I should be asking forgiveness for storming off on you like that.”
“What I said about your father was out of line.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Michelle soothed. She didn’t want Bebe upset at a time like this.
“The truth was I was envious of what you had. I’d see your family and life on social media and think, maybe that’s what my life would have been like.”
“But you had so much more.” Michelle was astounded. Bebe had the most amazing life. “You’ve lived a million times the life I have.”
“It doesn’t mean the grass is always greener. Or maybe it was, I don’t know, but I wanted to know what that path may have looked like. I guess I was never convinced of anything, though I did wonder.”
A nurse bustled in and told Michelle that Bebe needed some rest.
“I’ll visit you soon,” Michelle promised. She walked from the room, and finding the first chair, collapsed into it and into tears.
That card her father couldn’t even remember writing so many years ago had all been for a reason—so she could find a friend like Bebe, and the thought of anything happening to her was as painful as losing a real sister.
After splashing some cold water in the bathroom over her eyes, Michelle returned to where Petra and Harry were waiting. A doctor had spoken to Petra, and the surgery would be taking place soon.
“You should go home and get some rest,” Harry said.
“How long until we know more?”
“We will call you as soon as we know anything,” he promised her.
Michelle nodded and walked slowly back to her car, wishing she could call Leon to talk to him and to help her feel better, but she couldn’t. Not after what she’d done to him.
The Things We Never Knew Page 21