A Heartbeat Away (16 page)

“Yes,” she murmured, on edge and uncertain how to react. “Technically you did. Your heart stopped for five minutes, and no one could be expected to survive that. In fact, you're a bit of a miracle, really. Do you remember any of it?”

Did I remember? Strange, muddled feelings flooded me. But what was real and what was just a dream?

“Only vaguely,” I told her, “but I know, though, that I wasn't afraid. There were colors and lights and a kind of softness and warmth. I felt safe, I suppose.”

I paused for a moment as memories overtook my soul, feelings I couldn't explain.

“I remember feeling so very, very safe, and all the time the light was calling out to me. And then, when I woke up, everything seemed different. Or maybe it's just that
I
feel different.”

“I've heard something similar before,” she told me. “About the light and everything. From others who have had a near-death experience, like you.” Then she smiled. “Hey…and I'll bet that Ben hasn't told you about his part in it. He's the one you should be thanking.”

I stared at her vaguely as she nodded with excitement.

“He saved your life.”

An image of his kind, caring brown eyes slipped into my mind. Was that why he was watching over me? “Saved my life? Ben? What do you mean? How did he save my life?”

“After the accident,” she told me. “He kept you breathing until the ambulance arrived, and he's been here almost ever since. No doubt he wants to make sure you're going to be fine after all his efforts.”

I lay back on my pillow, struggling to digest this new piece of information as she studied the chart on the end of my bed. When the doors of the ward swished open, I searched eagerly for Ben, but a much smaller person walked briskly into the room, a swarthy man with a crisp white doctor's coat and a warm smile. He looked at me with delight in his dark eyes.

“Well, well, well. Who would ever have thought it!” he exclaimed. “How long has she been awake?”

A middle-aged woman with graying hair had accompanied him. She held a clipboard tightly in her hand and bristled with her own importance, stepping forward as my nurse began to speak to the doctor.

“She woke up earlier in a bit of a panic, and I gave her something for the pain. That was when I sent the message to you. And when she woke up about half an hour or so ago she seemed very lucid. It's remarkable.”

“‘Remarkable' is an understatement,” declared the doctor, smiling at me. “A miracle of modern medicine—that's what you are, young lady.”

I smiled back at him as the nurse drew the curtains around my bed.

“Right, then,” he said. “Let's have a peek at you.”

I was lying flat, so I couldn't really see the extent of my injuries, but much of my body appeared covered in purple and yellow bruises. The doctor didn't appear too concerned about that, however.

“Superficial,” he remarked. “Nothing to worry about there.”

He stood back for a moment, nursing his chin between thumb and forefinger as he pored over my chart, firing pertinent questions at the nurse, who hovered attentively beside him.

“Well, Miss McTavish,” he eventually declared, “you are probably one of the luckiest young women I have ever met.”

I returned his smile with genuine gratitude.

“Thank you, doctor. So when will I be able to go home?”

“One step at a time,” he told me firmly, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “You need to keep fairly still for a while to let your ribs heal, and the cast on your leg will have to stay on for six weeks or so. But the break is clean, so it shouldn't cause you any problems. It is really only your head injury that we have to be careful of.”

I automatically reached up to feel the dressing on the side of my head. The nurse took hold of my hand and placed it firmly back down beside me.

“Don't mess with it,” she ordered.

“It is not actually the wound itself that is of concern to us,” the doctor explained. “It is what has happened
inside
your head. But you are well past the danger point. All we have to do now is watch your progress for the next week or so, and then hopefully, you will be able to go home. If, that is, you have someone to care for you.”

I imagined Aunt V bustling bossily around me.

“Oh, yes,” I told him. “I have someone very capable.”

He stared at me for a moment longer, then gave a curt, satisfied nod. “Well, we'll see how it goes. I'll be 'round again on Friday.”

The woman who had accompanied him jotted something down on her clipboard, accorded me a brief smile and followed him as he marched out of the door, already intent on his next patient.

My nurse moved across the room and picked up a small silver tray. “So!” she exclaimed, walking toward me with delight in her blue eyes. “I told you he'd be pleased. Now I'm going to give you an injection and then you can get some sleep.”

I clutched at her arm. “Nurse…”

“‘Pam, '” she said gently, “You can call me Pam.”

“I need to see Ben. I need to know that he told my aunt.”

Putting down the tray, she pursed her lips and shook her head. “Two minutes, that's all. If he's not back in two minutes, you'll have to wait until you wake up.”

I watched as her slim figure disappeared through the doors, and then I saw him, a head taller than everyone else, striding down the corridor. He burst into the room with a broad grin on his face.

“Your aunt V sounds like a real Tartar,” he declared. “She was furious that she hadn't been informed. The hospital staff may cop it when she arrives.”

Relief washed over me. “She's coming? She really is coming?”

“At about a hundred miles an hour, I should think.” Ben smiled.

I put out my hand to him and he folded it quite naturally into his broad palm. His hand felt firm and strong, but slightly rough…a worker's hand.

“Thank you,” I said simply. “And thank you for saving my life.”

He glanced awkwardly at the floor for a moment, then grinned, shrugging. “Anyone would have done the same,” he insisted.

For the tiniest moment his hand tightened around mine, and he gazed at me with such warmth in his honey-brown eyes that the breath caught in my throat. He glanced away uncomfortably, placing my hand carefully on the bed.

“Anyhow, I am afraid that I have a train to catch in twenty minutes, so I really do have to go. I'm sure your aunt will be here very soon, though, and—if it's all right with you—I'll return to see you at the weekend.”

Disappointment flooded me, taking me by surprise. Not having Ben to call on would feel strange. I had known him so short a time, but somehow he seemed to fit into this new world of mine. Or was it my old world come back to reclaim me? I shook my head to try to clear the confusion overwhelming my mind.

“Of course,” I told him eagerly. “I'd love for you to visit me again…and…thank you.”

I leaned to rest against the pillow when he had gone, feeling drained and weak. The pain that had racked my body had settled into an ache and all I wanted to do was to sleep, so when I heard the door swish open I presumed that it was Pam, back to give me my injection. As Alex's deep voice burst into my head, I felt a shiver run down my spine and my eyes snapped open.

“I saw your
friend
leaving,” he remarked in an icy tone. “Cozy little visit was it?”

“Ben saved my life,” I told him.

His lips curled into a sneer and he peered at me with glittering black eyes; those same eyes that I had found so fascinating such a little while ago. Now I realized that they were emotionless and empty. Was that it? I wondered. Was it that very lack of feeling that had drawn me to him in the first place? I was determined not to look away.

“Why didn't you call Aunt V?” I asked him. He shrugged, splaying his perfectly manicured fingers.

“What do you want that old trout for? Anyway, I've been too busy. Besides, she can't do anything for you that the nurses here aren't capable of. When are they letting you out?”

“Not for another week or so,” I told him. When a flicker of relief crossed his face, I drew a deep breath. “But you don't need to worry.” For a moment I hesitated, weighing his reaction. “I won't be staying with you. I'm going home.”

His face remained utterly impassive but his eyes narrowed slightly. Was he annoyed? I wondered, as I stared into their emotionless black depths. Suddenly he gave a sharp laugh.

“Just as well. It was getting a bit boring, anyway,” and with that parting shot, he marched out of the room, almost knocking Pam over in his haste.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” she remarked quietly, having obviously overheard our conversation.

I just lay quivering in my bed. Was he really gone? Was he out of my life for good? Oh, I hoped so.

“Right, then,” she said kindly, clasping my arm. “Time for that little prick and then you can sleep.”

I felt muzzy almost as soon as she removed the needle from my arm. The pain in my body began to float away, but images filled my mind. Images of Alex's cold, snakelike eyes, Ben's gentle features and finally, totally, Daniel Brown's loving, lopsided grin.

“Oh, Daniel,” I groaned to myself. “Why didn't you keep your promise?”

For a moment, before sleep overcame me, I had the strongest feeling that he was there, right beside me, and the pain that flooded my heart had nothing to do with my injuries. I tried to open my eyes again, but they were stuck fast together and I fell asleep with his name on my lips and fresh hope in my heart.

M
y gut feeling about Daniel was still with me when I awoke—the feeling that he was close by, watching over me. Or had I just dreamed of him? My mind was lucid one moment and foggy and vague the next, but one thing was for sure—Aunt V hadn't let me down.

She sat tall and straight in the chair beside my bed—Ben's chair—her eyes fixed fiercely upon me as my eyelids fluttered and then at last opened. Sunlight beamed into the room, bringing vibrancy to the red-and-yellow flowers on the window ledge, casting its pale winter light onto her smooth gray head.

“Aunt V,” I murmured, and I saw that her eyes were blurry, too—blurry with unshed tears. “I'm sorry that I missed your grand opening,” I said. The tears began to trickle down her face. I'd never seen my aunt cry. “And I'm sorry for leaving you and being weak and…and…” All of a sudden her arms were around me and I was crying, also, for myself, for Aunt V, for Daniel and for all the dreams that hadn't happened.

Eventually, when our tears had dried up, we talked as we had never talked before. I told her all the things that I should have told her after Daniel's death, releasing some of the pain that I had kept shuttered away for so long. I even told her, falteringly, about Alex. To my surprise, she just smiled and nodded.

“How?” I cried. “How did you know?”

For a moment she hesitated, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “I called one day when you were out,” she admitted, looking up at me. “We had a chat, your…Alex and I.”

A wave of shame washed over me as her whole face crumpled.

“Oh, I've been so worried about you, Lucy,” she declared.

“I'm so sorry,” I whispered. “I've made such a mess of everything. What about Mrs. Brown? Does she know?”

To my relief, she shook her head.

“Edna has been through enough,” she said, regaining her composure. “First she lost her son and then she lost the daughter she was about to have.”

My fingers tightened around Aunt V's, soaking in her strength. “But she coped,” I stated. “She coped better than me.”

“So.” Aunt V took hold of my hands then and held them securely, gazing at me with an intense expression in her eyes. “There is no one to tell us how to react when something terrible happens in our lives. Rightly or wrongly, we just have to cope in the best way we can.”

“And I coped badly. That's the truth, isn't it?”

She smiled softly, lifting one hand to run the backs of her fingers across my cheek. I felt like a child again.

“Maybe not. Maybe you
needed
to cut yourself off. You're back with us now. That's the main thing. And you're coming home where you belong, whether you like it or not.”

For a moment I panicked. “But what if it's like before? What if I can't cope with all the memories?”

“You'll cope,” she told me firmly. “You'll face up to them this time and then you'll be able to get on with the rest of your life and let dear Daniel go.”

Daniel…oh, Daniel. His face filled my mind and his presence haunted my dreams. Suddenly I longed to go home, to walk the places we'd walked together, to sit in the green meadow by the stream and remember the first time we'd made love, to see Timmy and Promise. To lay flowers on his grave.

“I think you might be right,” I said quietly. “It is time I came home. But I don't want to forget him.”

“And you never will,” she declared. “No one is suggesting that you ever forget what you had with Daniel. But you can't live in the past, and hiding away doesn't work—you've tried that. You just have to put him to rest and move on with your life.”

A distant memory flashed into my mind, a memory of lights and colors and something else, something vague and formless.

“He isn't at rest yet,” I whispered.

Her forehead puckered. “Oh, Lucy,” she cried. “He soon will be…I promise.”

 

Ben visited that weekend, breezing into the ward with a broad smile and a bunch of flowers in his arms. He felt like a friend, a very dear friend, and I smiled impulsively, pleased to see his familiar face.

“Still here, then,” he remarked.

“Still here,” I responded.

Aunt V and he hit it off right away. She was intrigued when I told her that he had saved my life, and demanded to know every detail. I found them painful, the memories, because they reminded me of my
other
life. It felt so weird now, as if someone else had worked at Fawcett and Medley and slept with Alex Lyall.

I sat back against my pillows, allowing my mind to wander while they talked. My thoughts were all of the past nowadays. I couldn't get enough of the memories I had spent so long trying to forget. I yearned to be back there so much, and I wished with all my heart that I had done things differently.

When Aunt V's voice broke into my subconscious, penetrating my train of thought with an unexpected clarity, my mind flipped back to the present. “Fawcett and Medley,” I heard her say. She was telling Ben about my job in the city.

Panic choked my throat. “I'm not going back there!”

My words emerged garbled, and they both stopped and regarded me with surprise in their eyes.

“You mean, to your job?” asked Aunt V gently, placing her gnarled fingers over mine.

I nodded frantically. “Will you go and talk to them for me? You know, explain everything.”

Her forehead puckered into a frown. “But surely they must have been informed.”

Had they? Had they been informed?

“Well, no one has been to visit me or sent a card or anything,” I told her, abruptly realizing just how much I
didn't
want to see anyone from Fawcett and Medley ever again. Was that running away, too? Was that what I would do for the rest of my life—run away from my responsibilities?

“Well then, I'll try to phone them, at least,” she announced. “I would have thought that this…Alex…might have seen fit to…”

“I'm never going back there, either.”

My voice sounded high-pitched and fearful, not really my own voice at all, but they didn't appear to notice.

Ben's eyes brightened and Aunt V nodded wisely.

“I'll go and collect your things shall I?” she proposed eagerly.

The panic drifted away and hatred filtered in, hatred for myself, for my own weakness. “Yes, please…if you don't mind.”

“Mind? I'll enjoy it.” she retorted.

“I'll come with you, if you like,” offered Ben. “I mean…uh…for moral support.”

“I was in the army, young man,” snorted Aunt V. “Moral support I do not need. Company, however, I do. So, yes, thank you. I'll drive and you can help me with her things.”

Something deep inside me curled into a tiny twisted ball. What if Alex was there?

“You won't know what to get,” I mumbled.

My protest was a feeble one and they pushed it easily aside.

“If he is at home, we'll ask him to get your belongings, and if he isn't…” Aunt V paused and looked at Ben.

“If he isn't then you can go and find them for yourself,” he pointed out.

She nodded determinedly, eyeing me.

“You won't need most of your fancy clothes when you get back to the country, anyway, so if I forget some of them—well, it won't matter, will it?”

My mind raced frantically. “There's just one thing,” I told her. “An old leather case. It's in the closet and it has something inside that I really need. I don't care about anything else.”

She stood up from her chair, shoulders squared and lips set in a purposeful line.

“Right, then,” she said, glancing at Ben. “No time like the present. We'll go now.”

My pulse began to speed and my breath felt trapped inside my chest. I was going home. I really was going home. I motioned toward the cupboard beside my bed.

“The key…for the front door. It's in my bag.”

I watched them go, the two of them, Ben, so tall and broad, and Aunt V, ramrod-straight but little in comparison. It felt right that she was taking control, just as she had all those years ago when she'd turned up out of the blue and changed our lives. But then it wasn't just me who had required support. A vivid memory of my mom's dear face slipped into my mind, her poor tortured face. What was it? I wondered. What was it that made someone give up on life the way she had done? And then I remembered how close I had come to doing exactly the same thing in a different way, and panic again flooded my veins. What if I still did? What if I couldn't face the memories?

I shut my eyes and took a big, deep breath, thinking about Daniel. His heartbeat had felt so strong against my cheek on the night when we had first made love, in the green meadow at Brookbank, with the music of the tumbling stream echoing in our ears. That was when he had made his promise. I could almost hear his voice again now, uttering the words that were imprinted in my mind forever:
I will never leave you, Lucy McTavish. Remember that. No matter what happens, I will always find a way to be with you.

Anguish pierced my heart.
But
when,
Daniel?
I silently cried.
When will you find a way?

I turned my face into my pillow, trying to still the onrushing tide of stored-up memories. Perhaps my other life
was
the best place to be after all—

A voice interrupted my moment of self-centered indulgence and I clawed myself back from the past to see a staff nurse bustling in through the swing doors. I looked at her blankly. She had bright red hair and an equally bright smile, and she poked and prodded me, talking all the time in a pleasant voice that yanked me into the clinical, antiseptic atmosphere of the present.

“Any pain?” she inquired.

I shook my head. “Just an ache…as long as I don't move too much.”

She produced a syringe and smiled sympathetically as she fumbled for my thigh. “A little prick. It'll make you feel better—you'll see.”

I winced at the stab.

“And when are you going home?” she asked cheerily.

I stared at her vacantly. When was I going home? What had the doctor said yesterday?

“Maybe later this week,” I told her, remembering. “After Wednesday.”

I slept then, and when I awoke, it was to the sound of Ben's laughter. He and Aunt V were sitting beside my bed and she was giggling like a schoolgirl at something he had said. How had Ben managed to get so far into our lives so quickly? I wondered as they suddenly noticed that I was awake.

“Well!” she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “We did it.”

“And was he there?” I asked urgently.

She placed my leather case carefully on the end of the bed, glancing nervously at Ben.

It was he who replied. “No. It was someone else.”

A strange feeling overtook me.

“It was Lara Kirkland, wasn't it?” I cried. “I'm right, aren't I?”

Aunt V's eyebrows lifted a little. “Hmm…” she remarked. “Just as well you got out when you did if you already knew that he had someone else.”

I shrugged, recognizing the feeling as relief. I didn't care—I really didn't care. “Well, at least he won't come bothering me if he has someone new,” I said. “That part of my life was a big mistake, and now it's over.”

“Then we shall never mention his name again,” declared Aunt V, setting her jaw and folding her arms resolutely across her chest.

Despite his joviality with my aunt, I sensed a change in Ben that afternoon, as if something had happened that made him wary of me. I caught him, now and then, peering at me, but when I met his gaze, he glanced away. He seemed on edge. When Aunt V went off to get them both a coffee, for the very first time since I woke up from my coma and found him sitting beside my bed an awkward silence fell between us. I tried to catch his eye, but he just messed with the flowers he had brought and gazed out the window.

“What's wrong, Ben?” I asked determinedly. He looked down at his hands for a long moment, and when he finally looked up again, there was a shadow in his eyes.

“It's nothing.” He smiled. “Really….”

“Please tell me.” I pleaded. “Does it have something to do with me?”

“In a way, I suppose,” he admitted. “I'll tell you one day…when the time is right.”

“But when will it be right?”

“You'll see,” he said.

After Aunt V returned, his words still kept going around and around in my head. She chattered on and on, telling me about an interesting old man she'd spoken to in the corridor.

“Pigs!” she exclaimed. “He has such stories to tell about them. Who would have thought?”