Persuading Annie (33 page)

‘Yes of course,’ rushed Annie, grateful for his concern and even more grateful that he wasn’t coming with her. ‘Go back and enjoy the opera.’

She waited for the calm clarity of thought that had overcome her when they had been attacked in London to click into place again.

Then when she realised it wasn’t going to happen, she really panicked.

An enormous sense of being out of control threatened to engulf her. It was as if she had used up all her reserves of control and her body just couldn’t cope this time. She and Victoria didn’t speak a word in the taxi, partly through shock and partly through the terror of being driven by a complete maniac.

Their taxi driver was determined not to lose sight of the ambulance for them and Annie suspected that he had been waiting for such a command ever since he got his licence.

As they swerved past a red light, causing several incandescent drivers to blast their horns and swear at them, Annie was grateful that at least if they crashed, they’d have an ambulance on hand in seconds.

‘Good God, look at that!’ pointed out Victoria, as they passed St Paul the Apostle church. ‘They’ve stone-clad that church! Don’t they have
any
sense of style?’

Why wasn’t her family normal? Why couldn’t Victoria just be there to give support?

When they got to the hospital, Annie realised how accurate the television programme
ER
was. She felt as if she was looking through a shaky, hand-held camera, the words everyone spoke somehow feeling unreal, yet horribly real at the same time.

Cass was whisked away within seconds, Susannah and Brutus both desperately holding on to her, as if somehow that would help. Annie introduced herself as a friend of Cass’s to a nearby doctor, who told her in no uncertain terms that he didn’t care if she was Father Frigging Christmas, she couldn’t come with him into the OR.

There was nothing for them to do but wait. Annie sat on the
plastic chairs provided and stared blindly up at the television screen. A woman was making mince pies.

‘And don’t forget – keep paying attention to that oven,’ she was instructing firmly, as she finished decorating her pies with pastry cut-outs of holly leaves.

‘Sod the oven, lady,’ muttered Victoria to the television. ‘Pay some attention to your roots.’

Annie’s eyes glazed over. A Christmas cake and ten gingerbread snowmen later, Brutus and Susannah appeared by her side.

‘She’s asking for you,’ Brutus told Annie.

Annie stood up suddenly. She must have seemed unsteady, because Susannah and Brutus both put out a hand to hold her.

‘She hasn’t lost all three,’ said Susannahin a voice that seemed a long way away. ‘They think she’s only lost one.’

‘So far,’ whispered Brutus. ‘A couple more weeks and it would have had a chance to live.’

A nurse appeared behind them and offered to walk Annie to Cass’s room.

She stood outside the door for a while. Finally, she saw her hand push it open.

Cass was lying still on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her face was a shade similar to the green pillow she was lying on; her hair in thin, damp strands fanning her face.

Annie tiptoed next to her. Cass didn’t seem to hear or see her.

Annie touched Cass’s hand. Cass didn’t move.

‘Cassie,’ she whispered, bending down, so that her head was near to Cass’s.

At the sound of Annie’s voice, Cass turned her head away towards the wall, her lips trembling.

Annie stared at the back of her friend’s head, not knowing
what to do next. She could see that Cass was trying to say something, but the effort seemed to defeat her.

Silently, she crept round the bed until she was facing Cass. She bent down, stroked Cass’s damp hair and kissed her on the cheek.

Cass’s lips were moving, but no noise came out of her mouth.

* * * * *

When Victoria finally left Annie at the hospital, she was desperate to e-mail Charles about what had happened. It was hardly surprising that she failed to notice a familiar looking Barbour in the hall cloak cupboard, in her rush to get her coat off and log on.

As she rushed past the drawing-room door, a fleeting image of Charles sitting on the sofa barely registered in her brain before she reached the office. Once inside the office, she pressed the button on the computer and stared at the screen. She frowned. That was odd. She could have sworn—

‘Hello.’

She spun round. Charles was standing in the doorway.

Inexplicably, she felt tongue-tied.

‘Cass had a miscarriage,’ she finally blurted out.

‘Oh,’ said Charles.

Victoria needed a hug. ‘In the interval.’

‘Oh dear.’

And a kiss.

‘I was just about to e-mail you.’

‘Poor Cass,’ said Charles, his hand on the door handle.

Victoria noticed how his fringe flicked pleasingly across his eyes.

‘How are the boys?’

Charles smiled. ‘A handful,’ he said proudly.

‘Don’t I know it?’ said Victoria.

‘Yes. I, er, I, er …’ God it was so much easier on e-mail. ‘I picked them up from Mum and Dads’ as soon as I got back. Missed them. Discovered … well, truth is, discovered it’s not quite the same when you have them twenty-four hours a day. I think I’ve seen enough doo-doos to last anyone a lifetime. Except my own, of course. I haven’t had the time.’

Victoria didn’t know what to say. Charles was ruining her victim role for her. Typical.

‘I brought them here,’ Charles continued. ‘They’re in bed.’

Victoria felt her whole body fill up with warmth. She didn’t mind the tears. Charles, bless him, pretended not to notice and continued in the same level tone.

‘They were almost unbearably excited at the prospect of Christmas and New Year with Mummy. You won over the bouncy castle, no contest. I-I thought when we get back home, we could get some help. With them. Maybe not full time, but just something. And I thought it was worth me coming back with them,’ he said softly. ‘For … for … New Year. And, of course, the chance to have a crap in peace.’

Victoria laughed.

‘Good.’

Charles let out a deep sigh. He didn’t want to risk any more words.

‘Are you coming to bed?’

Victoria nodded and slowly, they walked to their bedroom.

* * * * *

They lay there in the dark, both too scared to move. After a while, Victoria realised that Charles wasn’t going to make the first move. Dear God, did that mean she’d have to? After
what seemed like for ever, a small voice sounded in her ear.

‘Kiss me.’

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do.

‘Where?’

‘In New York, stupid. What do you think I came back for?’

‘But—’

‘Kiss me, woman.’

For the first time in her life, Victoria didn’t wait for his touch. She closed her eyes, pretended she was someone else and discovered her husband, gently, slowly, deftly. Charles lay there motionless, his eyes alert in the dark, his breathing heavy.

Victoria found she loved his smell, she loved his softness and most of all, she loved the new sensation of being in control. To her astonishment, she discovered she was as moved physically as emotionally by her husband’s vulnerable body. When he could no longer contain himself, Charles gently pushed her on to her back. But Victoria resisted, pushing him back down.

Her days of taking this lying down were over.

* * * * *

‘You do know I love you, don’t you?’ murmured Charles into the dark.

There was silence. Then eventually.

‘Yes. But I’ve forgotten why.’

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Edward had come back to the apartment with George, Katherine and Davina and was doing a superb job of calming everyone down. George and Katherine, though not as fond of Cass as Annie was, were both thoroughly shaken by
what they had seen. It had been most traumatic. George was frantically pacing the drawing room.

‘There was absolutely nothing we could do,’ Davina tried to soothe him.

‘No, you’re right, of course, as usual,’ he replied, shaking his head anyway.

‘We would have only been in the way,’ finished Edward, his piercing eyes focused briefly on Davina.

‘Oh absolutely,’ agreed George. ‘Absolutely. Still …’ he sighed loudly and covered his eyes with a tired hand. ‘Tragic …’

They all nodded. He continued, in a world of his own.

‘… all those people having to see it happen. So
public
. And at the
opera
too.’

Katherine landed heavily on the sofa and started crying. Davina was next to her in no time.

‘Try not to think about it darling,’ she told her. ‘She’s in the best hands now.’

Katherine wiped her hand over her face and leant back in the sofa. ‘Her face – it was so horrible.’

‘I know.’

‘I’ll have nightmares for months. I’m incredibly sensitive to images.’

‘I know.’

In one rapid, smooth movement, Edward was on the other side of Katherine.

‘Shhh, it’s over now.’

Katherine nodded, sniffing loudly.

‘Be brave, darling,’ whispered Davina urgently.

As Katherine put her head in her hands, Davina and Edward caught each others’ cold eyes over her head and instantly looked away.

26

CHRISTMAS DAY WAS
not quite what Annie had expected. She was woken early by the sound of two young boys racing through the apartment, giggling and whispering so loudly they could be heard in the Rockefeller Center, followed by the sound and smells of cooking going on in the kitchen. George had decided against going to a hotel for lunch, it seemed so impersonal somehow, and Susannah had convinced him it was a horrid waste of money. It had been far cheaper to pay the chef double rate for the day. Susannah, Brutus and Edward would be joining her family – and of course Davina – for traditional Christmas lunch. But it would now be a muted affair.

Annie dressed quickly before grabbing an apple for later and going straight to the hospital. Perversely, she was glad to have something so important to take her mind off Markhams’. When she got to the hospital, she found Brutus and Susannah in the corridor outside Cass’s room. They looked even more shaken than yesterday. For one heart-stopping moment, she feared that Cass herself might be in danger. But it wasn’t that.

‘She’s lost another one in the night,’ murmured Susannah, holding limply on to Annie. ‘They don’t hold out much hope for the third.’

Annie looked through the window into Cass’s room. Cass was hidden behind two nurses who were attaching her to a drip and filling in forms at the end of her bed. When the two nurses moved, Annie stayed looking at Cass. When Cass’s eyes met hers, they stared silently at each other for a while, before Cass closed hers and turned away.

* * * * *

If Harry and Bertie had only known how much effort everyone was making to keep their first New York Christmas a jolly, lighthearted affair, they would have been bowed down by the weight of gratitude.

Brutus did not come to the lunch, Susannah did but left soon after. Annie, however, stayed at home. She didn’t want to return to the hospital. She was beginning to feel that somehow she was making things worse for Cass.

When everyone had finally gone to bed, Annie ran herself a bath and slowly sank her head back into the still water, too exhausted by a sudden onslaught of painful memories to move.

Hot water flooded into her ears, soaking up her brain so that all she could hear was the sound of liquid, swirling in the crevices of her mind. Water gushed in and out of every nook and cranny of her memory and reason, rinsing through fixed opinions, dislodging overworked hurts and washing musty judgements. Seven years’ worth of self-identity, stuck in silent, forgotten waters like the
Marie Celeste
, stirred slightly – but just enough to give Annie a new view of herself, of Jake, of Cass.

And then when it felt as if her waterlogged mind might burst her skull, she lifted it out of the water, so that all she could hear was warm silence and a slow, dripping tap.

Staring at her big toe as it leant on the tap, she faced up to the painful realisation that she had always wished deep down, that one day Cass would understand how she had felt about losing someone she really cared about. It was only just dawning on Annie that although she had never knowingly blamed Cass for interfering with her elopement by telling Susannah, in her innermost heart, she had.

She also realised that if Cass hadn’t had the knack of needling exactly what she wanted out of her, Annie’s life would be very different. Likewise with Susannah. Annie wondered at herself. What on earth was she doing – at twenty-six years old – spying on her own father’s business because her godmother had asked her to? Why wasn’t she going to the meetings for herself? Why was she letting her godmother tell her to ‘
act
important’ at the meetings when she
was
important? She was a director and daughter of the managing director, for goodness’ sake. And why had all this only just occurred to her?

There were no two ways about it, Susannah had been running her life. And it wasn’t a life that gave her much joy.

And Cass knew. Which was why she had tried, unsuccessfully for the last seven years, to make up for Susannah’s intrusion and find Annie a mate. They weren’t so much blind dates she’d been going on for the past seven years, they were guilt offerings.

And she also now knew why all those blind dates had been doomed to failure from the start. And why poor Edward felt more like an A Level discussion paper than a lover.
Edward Goddard Is the Answer to All Annie’s Prayers. Discuss
.

The vision of Jake telling her he was sorry before stumbling out of her life again had been sweet torture every time she’d shut her eyes. He was there with her all the time – so what was new? But she simply didn’t have the energy to deal with it at the moment.

Half an hour later, as Annie lifted her body out of the bath, she was almost overcome by a feeling of cold air enveloping her body, a feeling of such lightness she felt giddy.

Later that evening, she stayed in at the apartment, too weary to leave, yet wishing desperately that her family would leave her alone. She sat in the drawing room with her father, Katherine and Davina and, with a new, disturbing focus, she saw that Davina had carved out a role of monumental importance to them both. In every circumstance, every situation, only Davina knew how to soothe each one, only she knew what to say to calm them. Davina stroked their egos with the same evenness and patience as a punka wallah wafting a fan over his master’s head. It didn’t need much of an imagination to see that in the privacy of George’s bedroom, she merely swapped one sort of stroking for another.