And the Bride Wore Red (12 page)

Norah couldn't speak, but she managed to nod.

‘Don't fight it,' Lang told her. ‘Try to take deep, slow breaths until the ambulance reaches you.'

Olivia was dialling her mobile phone.

‘I'm calling her neighbour in the apartment downstairs,' she said. ‘Hello, Jack, it's Olivia. Norah's having a heart attack—can you—? Norah, Jack says he's on his way.'

‘Can he get in?' Lang asked.

‘Yes, they've each got a key to the other's place so that they can keep an eye on each other. There he is.'

They could see Jack on the screen now, an elderly man but still full of vigour. He reached for Norah's phone, dialling for the ambulance.

‘It's on its way,' he said at last to Olivia.

‘Thank you,' she wept.

By now Norah was lying back on the pillow, not moving. They saw Jack try to rouse her, but she lay terrifyingly still.

‘She's passed out,' Jack said desperately.
‘What can I do?'

‘Don't panic,' Lang said firmly. ‘I'm a doctor, do as I say. Place two fingers against her throat to check for a pulse.'

Jack did so, but wailed, ‘I can't feel anything, and she's stopped breathing. Oh, dear God, she's dead!'

‘
No!
' Olivia screamed.

‘Don't panic, either of you,' Lang said sternly. ‘She isn't dead, but she's had a cardiac arrest. Jack, we've got to get her heart started again. First raise her legs about eighteen inches, to help blood flow back to the heart.'

They both watched as Jack put a couple of pillows under
Norah's feet, then looked back at the screen for further instructions.

‘Place the palm of your hand flat on her chest just over the lower part of her breast bone,' Lang continued. ‘Then press down in a pumping motion. Use the other hand, as well, to give extra power—that's it! Excellent.'

‘But is it working?' Olivia whispered.

‘Don't disturb him,' Lang advised.

As they watched, Norah made a slight movement. Jack gave a yell of triumph.

‘The medics should be here soon,' he said. ‘I left the main door open so that they could—Here they are.'

Two ambulance crew burst in, armed with equipment, confidently taking over. One of them asked Jack what he'd done, then nodded in approval.

‘Well done,' he said. ‘She was lucky to have you.'

As they moved Norah onto the stretcher, Jack addressed the screen.

‘I'm going to the hospital with her,' he said. ‘I'll call you when I know something.'

‘Give her my love,' Olivia begged. ‘Tell her I'll be there soon. And, Jack, thank you for everything.'

‘It's not me you should thank, it's him,' he said gruffly, and the screen went dead.

‘He's right,' she whispered. ‘If she lives, you did it.'

‘Of course she will live,' Lang insisted.

‘I shouldn't have left her. She's old and frail. I've stayed away too long.'

‘But she wanted you to. Every time I've seen her she's been encouraging you, smiling.'

‘Yes, because she's sweet and generous. She must have smiled on purpose to make me think she was all right. She was thinking of me, but I should have been thinking of her.'

‘Olivia, my darling, stop blaming yourself. You're right, she is generous. She knew that you needed your freedom and she gave it to you. Accept her generosity.'

‘I know you're right, but—'

She could say no more. Grief overwhelmed her and she sobbed helplessly. Lang's arms went around her, holding her close, offering her all the comfort in his power.

Many times in the past he'd held her with passion, letting her know that she could bring his body alive, as he could hers. But now there was only strength and tenderness, giving without taking, all the warmth and compassion of his nature offered in her service.

She stopped weeping at last, because the strength had drained out of her. Normally so decisive, she now found herself floundering.

‘Start your packing,' he told her gently, ‘and I'll call the airport.'

An hour later they were on their way. Lang had found a flight to London for her, and one to Beijing for himself. When she had checked in, they sat in silence, holding hands, trying to come to terms with what had happened. One moment their joyous life had seemed set to last for ever. The next, without warning, it was all over. The speed with which light had turned to darkness left her reeling.

And yet, what had I expected?
she asked herself.
We were always fooling ourselves about bringing Norah to China. I have to go to England and his life is here.

How bitter was the irony! The woman who'd been so sure she could command her own fate had been swept away by a tide of love whose strength she was only beginning to appreciate now that it was slipping away from her.

‘I've got something for you,' Lang said. ‘I bought it to give you as a symbol of our coming marriage.'

‘Oh, no,' she begged. ‘Don't say that. I can't bear it. How can we ever marry?'

‘I don't know,' he said sombrely. ‘I only know that somehow we must. Don't you feel that too?'

‘Yes. Yes, I do. But how can we?'

‘I had hoped that we might make our home in China and Norah could come here and live with us. I still hope for that. She will recover in time, and all will be well. We have only to be patient.'

She looked at him with desperate eyes, longing to believe that it could be that easy, but she was full of fear.

‘We must never give up hope,' Lang persisted. ‘Don't you know that whatever happens some day, somehow, we must be together?'

‘I want to think so, but how can we? I don't know how long I'll be gone, perhaps always.'

‘However long it is,' he said, taking her hands between his, ‘it will happen at last. There will be nobody else for me. So in the end we must find each other again, because otherwise I shall spend all my life alone. Now I've known you, there could never be anyone else.'

‘You make it sound so simple,' she said huskily.

‘No, I make it sound possible, because it is. That's why I want you to take this.'

He drew out a small box and placed it in her hands. Opening it, Olivia saw a brooch in the shape of a dainty, silver butterfly: the sign of eternal love and lifelong fidelity.

‘I bought it yesterday, when I was gone for that time,' he said. ‘I've been waiting for the right moment to give it to you, but I never thought it would be like this. Wear it and never forget that we belong together.'

‘I will wear it always,' she promised.

Overhead a loudspeaker blared.

‘They're calling your flight,' he said. ‘Goodbye—for now.'

‘For now,' she repeated.

He took her into his arms. ‘Remember me,' he begged.

‘Always. Just a few more moments…' She kissed him again and again.

‘You must go—you must go.' But still he held onto her.

The call came again.

‘Oh, God, it's so far away!' she wept. ‘When will we see each other again?'

‘We will,' he said fiercely. ‘Somehow we'll find a way. We must hold onto that thought.'

But even as he said it there were tears on his cheeks, and now she could see that his despair was as great as her own.

The crowd was moving now, carrying her away from him. In agony she watched him grow smaller, fading, until the distance seemed to swallow him up and only his hand was still visible, faintly waving.

The flight from Shanghai to London was thirteen hours. During the interminable time Olivia drifted in and out of sleep, pursued by uneasy dreams. Norah was there sometimes, laughing and strong as in the old days, then lying still. Lang was there too, his face anguished as he bid her farewell.

She managed to get a little restless sleep, but it was tormented by ghosts. There was Norah, as she'd seen her on-screen only a few hours ago, looking dismayed at the thought of the flight to China. Now Olivia realised that she hadn't imagined it. Norah had known she wasn't well, and she'd hidden it.

From beneath her closed eyes, tears streamed down Olivia's face.

 

Jack was waiting for her at the airport, his face haggard.

‘She's in Intensive Care,' he said. ‘She was alive when I left her an hour ago, but she's bad, really bad.'

‘Then I'll get there fast.'

‘Shall I take your bags home with me?' he offered. ‘I expect you'll want to move into Norah's place.'

Until that moment it hadn't dawned on her that she had nowhere to go. She thanked him and hurried to the hospital.

Once there, she ran the last few steps to Intensive Care, her fear mounting. A nurse rose to meet her, smiling reassurance.

‘It's all right,' she said kindly. ‘She's still alive.'

Alive, but only just. Olivia approached the bed slowly, horrified at the sight of the old woman lying as still as death attached to a multitude of tubes.

‘Norah,' Olivia said urgently, hurrying to the side of the bed. ‘It's me. Can you hear me?'

The nurse produced a chair for her, saying, ‘I'm afraid she's been like that since she was brought in.'

‘But she will come round soon, surely?' Olivia pleaded.

‘We must hope so,' the nurse said gently.

Olivia leaned close to Norah. It was hard to see her face through the tubes attached to aid her breathing, but the deathly pallor of her skin was frighteningly clear. She seemed thinner than before, more fragile and lined. How could she have gone away from Norah knowing that she was so frail?

But she hadn't known, because Norah had been determined to prevent her knowing. During their talks she'd laughed and chatted, apparently without a care in the world, because to her nothing had mattered but that Olivia should be free to go out and explore.

Now she was dying, perhaps without regaining consciousness, and she might never know that the person she'd loved most had returned to her.

‘I'm sorry,' Olivia said huskily. ‘I shouldn't have stayed away so long. Oh, darling, you did so much for me and I wasn't there for you.'

Norah's hands were lying still on the sheet. Olivia took hold of one between both of hers, hoping by this means to get through to her, but there was no reaction. Nothing. Norah didn't know she was there, and might never know.

‘Please,' Olivia begged. ‘Don't die without talking to me.
Please
!'

But Norah lay so still that she might already have been dead, and the only sound was the steady rhythm of the machines

Olivia laid her head down on the bed in an attitude of despair.

S
HE
must have lain there for an hour, holding Norah's hand and praying desperately for a miracle.

When it finally came it was the tiniest, most fragile of miracles, just a faint squeeze, but it was enough to make Olivia weep. Somehow, through the dark mists, Norah had sensed her. She
must
believe that. She must—she must.

She awoke to the feeling of someone shaking her shoulder.

‘I'm sorry,' she mumbled. ‘I didn't mean to go to sleep, but jet lag…'

‘I know,' the nurse said sympathetically. ‘Do you mind waiting outside while we attend to her?'

Olivia almost sleepwalked into the corridor and sat down, leaning back against the wall, exhausted. Inside her head there was a howling wilderness of grief, desolation and confusion. It felt as though that was all there would ever be again.

She forced herself to think clearly. She should call her mother.

Melisande answered at once. As briefly as possible, Olivia explained what had happened and that she was at the hospital.

‘Norah could die at any moment. How long will it take you to get here?'

‘Get there? Oh, darling, I don't think—Besides, she's got
you. Since you went to China she's talked about nothing else. You're the one she wants. Keep in touch.'

She hung up quickly.

Well, what else did I expect
? Olivia asked herself bitterly.

The nurse appeared, signalling for her to come back in.

‘She's opened her eyes,' she said. ‘She'll be glad to see you.'

Norah's eyes were just half-open, but they lit up at the sight of Olivia.

‘You came,' she whispered.

‘Of course I came.'

Norah closed her eyes again, seemingly content. Olivia sat there, holding her hand for another hour until the nurse touched her on the shoulder.

‘You should go home and get some rest. She's stable now. Give me your number and I'll call you if anything changes.'

 

Norah's apartment was dark and chilly. Olivia stared at her suitcases which Jack had left there for her. She knew that she should make an effort to unpack, but it was too much.

With all her heart she yearned for Lang, yearned for his voice, his comforting presence, the feel of his body close to hers. He was so far away—not just in miles but in everything that counted. Suddenly it seemed impossible that she would ever see him again.

She began to wander aimlessly around the apartment, trying to understand the depths of her isolation. Less than twenty-four hours ago she'd been the happiest woman on earth. Now the ugly silence sang in her ears, perhaps for ever.

He'd promised love eternal, but what was in his mind now—her or the all-important interview for the job? She was suddenly convinced that he must have forgotten her as soon as they'd parted, drawn back to his ‘real' life.

She should call him, but what was he doing at this mo
ment? With her mind fuzzy, she couldn't work out the time difference. He might be talking to somebody vital to his career and resent her interrupting.

She took out her mobile phone and sat staring at it, feeling stupid. After a while she put it away again.

Then it shrilled at her.

‘Where have you been?' came Lang's frantic voice. ‘I've been waiting and waiting, thinking you'd call me as soon as you had news. When you didn't, I nearly went crazy. I started checking the flights to see if anything had happened to your plane.'

‘Oh, heavens!' She wept.

‘Darling, what is it? Is she dead? Tell me.'

‘No, she's alive and holding on.'

She told him about her journey—her arrival and the moment when Norah had seemed to become aware of her. She hardly knew what she said. She was almost hysterical with relief that he'd reached out to her.

‘So it's good news,' Lang said. ‘If she's survived the first twenty-four hours, then her chances are fine. She'll be well in no time.'

‘What's been happening to you?' she asked.

‘I'm back in Beijing.'

‘Have you done anything about the job?'

‘No, it's still only dawn here. When the day starts properly I'll get to work. Then I'm going to get myself a video link so that we can talk face to face.'

‘You can call me on Norah's. I'm living there for the moment.'

‘Go and get some sleep now. You must be in need of it. I love you.'

‘I love you,' she said wistfully.

She hung up and tumbled into bed, trying to tell herself that
Norah would soon be well; Lang had seemed sure. After all, he was a doctor. But she knew in her heart that he was being too optimistic too soon. If Norah made only a partial recovery they would be faced with huge problems and she guessed that he didn't want to think about them just yet.

She went to the hospital early next day. Norah was still unconscious, but after an hour she opened her eyes. Her smile as she beheld Olivia was full of happiness.

‘I thought I'd only dreamed that you were here,' she murmured.

‘No, I'm here, and I'm staying to look after you until you're all right.'

‘What about Lang?'

‘He's fine. I've talked to him.'

‘What was the marvellous news he was going to tell me?'

‘There's a big job coming up and he reckons he's in line for it. He's very ambitious.'

She went on talking softly until Norah's eyes drooped again and she drifted into a normal sleep.

‘Is she going to make it?' Olivia asked the nurse softly.

‘The doctor thinks so. Despite her age, she's very strong. It's too soon to be certain, but it'll probably work out.'

She went home feeling more cheerful than she'd dared to hope. Norah would recover and their plans could go on as before. She
must
believe that.

The next day Lang hooked up online and she saw his face for the first time since their goodbye. The sight gave her heart a jolt. He was so near, yet so far. She gave him the nurse's words.

‘What did I tell you?' he said cheerfully. ‘Biyu will be delighted. She'd actually pencilled in a date for our wedding—the twenty-third of next month. When I explained about the delay, she was very put out. So was Hai. He was practically lining the fish up to be caught.'

Olivia laughed shakily.

‘Tell them I'm sorry to disappoint them, and I'll be back when I can.'

How hollow those words sounded to her own ears.

‘They'll be glad to hear that. Wei's fiancée is writing a new song to sing at the wedding. I've got an interview for the job next week, and someone has dropped me a private hint that my chances are good.'

‘Darling, I'm so thrilled for you. It'll be everything you always wanted.'

‘You know better than that,' he told her.

‘Yes, I do. It's just that things look different now that we're so far apart.'

‘But we aren't far apart,' he said at once. ‘In here—' he tapped his breast ‘—you're still with me, and you always will be. Nothing has changed.'

When he talked like that it was easy to believe that things would work out well. But when they had disconnected there came the time, which she dreaded. Then the distance became not merely real but the only reality.

Inch by inch she slipped into a routine. In the morning she was a housekeeper, shopping and cleaning. In the afternoon she visited Norah, now out of Intensive Care.

In the evenings she linked up to wait for Lang to appear on-screen. It occurred to her that she was following much the same timetable Norah had followed while waiting for her to call from China. When the connection finally came it marked the beginning of her day. When it was over, she counted the hours until the next one.

With a heavy heart she realised that this was how it must have felt for Norah years ago, waiting for news of her lover overseas, until finally there was nothing left to hope for.

 

One day Lang didn't appear at the usual time. When he finally came online he apologised and said he'd been helping out at the hospital.

‘There was an emergency and they called in all hands. I've decided to abandon the rest of my vacation and go back to work. It could be useful to be on the spot—just in case.'

‘I think that's very wise,' she said cheerfully.

‘It means I don't know exactly what time I'll be calling,' he said.

‘It doesn't matter. I'll stay hooked up permanently so that I'm always ready.'

Which was exactly what Norah had done for her, she remembered, and the similarity made her shiver.

On the day of his interview she waited by the computer for hours and knew, as soon as she saw him, that things had gone well.

‘I'm through to the next stage,' he said triumphantly. ‘I have to meet the whole board next week.'

That meeting too went well, and Lang confided that several board members had spoken in complimentary terms of his work at the hospital over the last three years. He said it without apparent conceit, but she was certain that he knew exactly how good he was.

Then a problem developed. His name was Guo Daiyu, and he was brilliant, Lang told her despondently.

‘He didn't hear of the job at first, but someone told him recently and he hurried to apply. He has an excellent reputation, and he's the one person who could take it away from me.'

She comforted him as best she could, but she could see that the thought of losing the prize at the last minute was appalling to him.

It was ironic, she thought as she lay staring into the darkness in the early hours. Lang talked romantically, he spoke
of his family's legend of love, but beneath it he was a fiercely ambitious man who knew the value of practical things.

She still believed in his love, but she also knew that the coming struggle was going to reveal each one of them to the other in a way that might destroy them.

Now she found herself remembering the story of Natalie, the woman he'd loved but had given up because she'd threatened to divert him from his chosen path. That path had included China and his professional ambition, and nothing would be allowed to stand in the way. Nothing. That was the message, clear and simple.

Then something happened. It was stupid, incongruous and even amusing in a faintly hysterical way, and it cast another light on the turn her life was taking.

After some nagging on Olivia's part, her parents visited Norah in hospital. They giggled a lot, said the right things and left as soon as possible.

Her father seemed faintly embarrassed to see her, but that was par for the course. He muttered something about how she must be short of money, pressed a cheque into her hand and departed, confident of having done his fatherly duty.

The cheque was large enough to make Olivia stare, and since she was indeed short of money she accepted it thankfully, if wryly. But she wondered what was going on.

She found out when her mother telephoned that evening.

‘Darling, I have the most wonderful news. You'll be so thrilled—but I expect you've guessed already.'

‘No, I haven't guessed anything.'

‘Daddy and I are going to get married.'

‘Married?'

‘Isn't it wonderful? After all these years we've discovered that our love never really died. We were always meant to be
together, and when that's true nothing can really keep you apart. Don't you agree?'

‘I don't know,' Olivia whispered.

Luckily Melisande was too wrapped up in herself to hear this.

‘We've both suffered so much, but it was all worth it to find each other again. The wedding is next Friday and I want you to be my bridesmaid.'

She should have been expecting this, but for some reason it came as a shock.

‘Melly, I really don't think—'

‘Oh, but, darling, it'll be so beautiful. Just think of it—true love rediscovered, and there, as my attendant, is the offspring of that love. Now, come along, don't be a miserable old grumpy. Of course you'll do it.'

‘So I said yes,' Olivia told Norah next day. ‘At least, she said yes, and I didn't have the energy to argue. Somehow I just can't take it seriously.'

‘Oh, it's serious, all right,' Norah said caustically. ‘You can't blame your mother. Time's getting on, and it was a very big win.'

‘What was?'

‘Your father had a win on the lottery some time back.'

‘So that's where the cheque came from.'

‘I'm glad he had the decency to give you some, even if it was just a way of shutting you up. He's rolling in it at the moment, which explains a lot about “love's young dream”. Or, in their case, love's middle-aged dream.'