Devil and the Deep (The Ceruleans: Book 4) (13 page)

Luke stopped and turned to me. ‘Not you,’ he said firmly.

‘I want to help.’

‘And I want time with you, Scarlett. But there’ll be hardly
any if you’re wearing yourself out around people all the time.’ His eyes
narrowed and he peered at me. ‘Like you have today.’

I said nothing. The truth was, I felt shocking. Really quite
weird. But I’d never admit that to him.

Gesturing with my broom to a nearby painting, I said, ‘Michael’s
a good artist, isn’t he?’

‘Really good,’ said Luke. ‘The guy’s wasted as an art
teacher – he could make a living out of painting.’

‘But I guess that’s not an option for him.’

‘I guess not.’

I couldn’t take my eyes off the painting. It was a seascape
with amazing shades of blue blended together in such a way that the waves felt real.

‘Do you know,’ I heard myself say, ‘that water’s moving.’

I felt arms slide around me, which was strange, because Luke
was across the room last I’d known, and then his breath was hot on my cheek as
he said urgently, ‘It’s not the water swaying, it’s you. You’ve gone too far.
You need to leave. Now. Go to the cottage. Sleep.’

‘Oh,’ I said.

‘Do you understand me, Scarlett? Travel – go now!’

‘’Kay,’ I said.

And I closed my eyes and I went.

I woke up on the sofa in the cottage. I knew that’s where I
was by the squishy embrace of the cushions at my back and the hush in the air
that I associated with the deserted west cliff. Only it wasn’t entirely silent,
I realised foggily – there was a tapping noise nearby, in the room. I wasn’t
alone.

I tore open my eyes and struggled upright.

‘Careful!’ called a familiar voice from the corner of the
room and I twisted around quickly.

‘Luke?’

He was standing as far away from me as possible, back to the
wall, his phone clutched in his hand, his hair standing on end and his face
flushed.

‘What is it?’ I said at once. ‘What’s happened?’

‘You don’t remember?’

‘What?’ I began to stand, to walk to him, but a wave of
dizziness hit me.

‘Stay there!’ he ordered unnecessarily as I slumped back
onto the sofa. ‘How do you feel?’

I got out an ‘f–’ before he growled, ‘And don’t say fine, or
I’ll… I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do.’

‘I’ve felt better,’ I admitted. ‘I’m confused…’

‘You’re not the only one. You got dizzy, remember, at the
cafe?’

I nodded. I remembered the swirling water in the painting.

‘And I came over and caught you before you could fall, and I
told you to go.’

‘And?’

‘And the next thing I knew, we were here, on the floor, and
you were out cold on my lap!’

‘Huh?’

‘My thought exactly.’

‘I Travelled you here?’

‘It would appear so.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.’

‘I know that. I didn’t know what to do. I know you need to
be away from me, to feel better. But I couldn’t just leave you like that. I tried
to call Jude, but his phone’s off. I was just trying Michael.’

I rubbed a hand across my eyes. ‘How long was I out?’

‘A couple of minutes.’

‘What? But that doesn’t make sense.’

Luke was backing away to the door. ‘Look, I’m going to go.
Let you rest.’

‘No, don’t –’

‘Scarlett!’ he said sharply, making me jump. ‘You scared the
crap out of me. Again. You’ve totally gone over your limit and I’m not messing
about while you’re in danger like this.’

‘No!’ I shook my head, but quickly stopped when the room
spun. ‘No, I know my limit, I know what it feels like to go that far, and I’m
nowhere near it, Luke. Saturday and Sunday I didn’t come into contact with any
people at all. I felt great this morning. And I’ve taken loads of breaks today.
I’m a bit tired, but not dangerously. Not at all.’

‘You’re not drained?’

‘No. If I was, if it was like the last time, I’d have been
out for much longer, wouldn’t I?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ Luke’s frown deepened. ‘So what
just happened?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Did you faint?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How do you feel now?’

‘Bit funny.’

‘Funny drained?’

‘Funny ill.’

‘You’re ill?’ He was across the room in a few strides and
gathering me into a hug. ‘I’m sorry, Scarlett. I thought… Never mind, I
should’ve trusted you. Come on, let’s get you to bed.’

He slid an arm under my knees and lifted me. Usually, I’d
have protested at being treated like a swooning woman, but I wasn’t far off
feeling that way, so I said nothing, just laid my head on his shoulder.

Upstairs, Luke tucked me into bed and then bustled about
fetching ‘sickbed supplies’ as he called them: extra blankets, extra pillows,
tissues, a jug of water, a glass tumbler and a vast assortment of remedies he’d
found in the bathroom’s medicine cabinet.

‘Really,’ I told him wearily, ‘you can stop flapping about.’

‘That’s my job,’ he said. ‘If I can’t stay and be Nurse
Luke, at least let me leave you fully equipped.’

I eyed the teetering pile on the bedside table. ‘I
appreciate the thought. But really, I don’t need elasticated bandages. Or
insect bite relief cream. Or… what is
that
?’ I gestured to an unfamiliar
ointment tube.

Luke examined the label and then coloured smartly. ‘Er,
sorry. I just grabbed everything in there.’

My bleary eyes finally made sense of the label:
Haemorrhoid
Heave-Ho! Quick relief from pesky piles.

‘That is
not
mine! Most of the stuff in there dates
back to my grandparents.’

Luke shushed me soothingly. ‘Now, I’ll just bring up some
snacks in case you get peckish. My mum swore by Marmite sandwiches whenever I
was ill, said they –’ He broke off and leaned over to peer at me. ‘Scarlett,
you’re awfully green.’

‘No food!’ I managed to gasp.

‘You feel sick?’

I nodded miserably. Luke hurried off muttering about a
bucket.

I lay back on the pillows he’d bashed into shape beneath me
and closed my eyes. Stupid sickness. Stupid dizziness. And what was that random
collapse all about? Poor Luke; I’d thought the days of seeing that stricken
look on his face were far behind us.

Still, he’d calmed down now he’d realised I was simply off
colour. A stomach bug or something. I grimaced at the thought. After so many
months of perfect health as a Cerulean, illness was a bit of a shock. It hadn’t
occurred to me that healers got sick. But clearly we did, because here I was
feeling wretched, and of course illness was the only explanation for dizziness
and nausea. Oh. Well, except…

I made it to the toilet just in time to be spectacularly
sick.

‘Scarlett, you okay?’ shouted Luke. ‘Sorry, stupid question.’

I should have said nothing, should have just reassured him
I’d be fine and sent him on his way – and then dealt with it myself. I blame
feeling simultaneously horrendous and horrified for what happened next.

‘Scarlett?’ Luke appeared in the doorway. ‘Do you want me to
–?’

‘You have to go!’ I hauled myself up, swaying wildly on my
feet.

‘What?’ He looked unsure whether to come over and steady me
or keep his distance.

‘To the late-night chemist. Now! NOW!’

‘But there are stomach settlers in that medicine stash.’

Before I could get a word out a wave of nausea hit me and I
turned and gripped the sink, just in case. I swallowed deeply and then met his
eyes in the mirror. Ignoring the fact that I looked a total state while he
looked at a total loss, I carefully enunciated the words:

‘Go. To. The. Chemist. And. Get. Me. A. Pregnancy. Test.’

‘Get a... what?’

‘Go!’
I shouted hoarsely and, eyes wide, he fled.

*

An hour later (an hour! Apparently, Luke had been forced to
drive into the city to find a chemist open so late) I was a lot fresher thanks
to a long, cool shower and sipping three glasses of water, but I was no calmer.
If anything, as I sat on the edge of the bath and studied the test kit’s
instructions, my anxiety was ramping up with every word.

I couldn’t be pregnant. I couldn’t be.

But I could be. Of course I could. Since I’d come back from
the island, I’d found all sorts of excuses to be intimate but not quite
intimate
with Luke. But a couple of weeks back, he’d surprised me with a romantic meal in
the cafe – candlelight, music, wine, the works – and I’d been swept up in the
mood and worn down by the need in his eyes, and well...

‘You okay in there? You done it yet?’ called Luke through
the closed bathroom door.

‘Just a minute,’ I said.

Delaying would only prolong the agony, I knew, so I threw on
the bathroom taps to give me a little privacy and then fumbled about with
wands. Finally, I was done.

Luke knocked again. ‘Scarlett?’

I opened the door. ‘Three minutes,’ I told him.

Three minutes to save us. Three minutes to doom us.

He eyed the tests (yes, plural; I’d done all three from the
multipack kit just to be sure) lying side by side on the toilet cistern and
said, ‘Come out here. I want to talk to you.’

‘In three minutes.’

‘Now,’ he said firmly. ‘Before you read the results.’

He reached out and took my hand and tugged me out of the
bathroom and back to my bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed. I stood
gripping the headboard grimly.

‘Sit,’ said Luke.

‘Can’t.’

He sighed. ‘Scarlett, you have to calm down. First of all,
the chances are you’re ill – nothing more. I mean, think about it. We use
protection. And you said yourself you’re not even late. And doesn’t morning
sickness start later on and come, well, in the morning?’

‘I don’t know, Luke,’ I snapped. ‘I’m not all that
experienced in being pregnant.’

My heart squeezed painfully when I saw hurt flash in his
eyes. He was only trying to help. But he didn’t understand.

He stood up and came over and took my hands. ‘Listen to me.
You have to calm down. We can handle this. We’re not kids. I’m twenty. You’re nineteen.
We have a good relationship. We have good friends and family. We’re financially
secure. We have homes. We can
handle
this.’

I stared at him. Surely he wasn’t suggesting –

‘Scarlett, if the test’s positive… I know it’s a shock. I
know it’s not something we’ve discussed, and it’s probably something you don’t
feel ready for, but it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It could be a happy
thing?’

His eyes were so full of love that I struggled to breathe. I
didn’t deserve that love. I didn’t deserve him.

I wanted to tell him. But I couldn’t stand to see his hope
melt into fear. ‘I can’t…’ I mumbled.

He stepped back and studied me.

‘Can’t?’

‘Three minutes!’ I said desperately. ‘Must be time.’

I thrust past him and rushed to the bathroom. There I
squeezed my eyes shut and whispered a quick prayer, and then I looked. Three
wands bearing a single line each.

‘NOT PREGNANT!’

I raced back to the bedroom. Luke was sitting on the bed,
and I threw myself onto him and hugged him hard.

‘Negative. Not pregnant. No baby.’

He was quiet, just stroking my back lightly.

‘Luke?’

I clambered off to sit beside him.

‘That’s… great,’ he said. He was smiling, but he didn’t look
half as relieved as I felt.

‘You – you
wanted
it to be positive?’ I whispered.

‘Such a tone of horror!’ He sighed. ‘No, I won’t say that I
wanted it to be positive exactly. We’re young. We’ve got lives to lead. But if
it had been, like I said, we could handle that.’

‘But babies aren’t something to handle, Luke. They should be
wanted, loved, treasured.’

‘I know. I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m trying to say
is that I want kids. Some day.’

I looked away from him so he wouldn’t see the pain in my
eyes.

‘But clearly it’s not what you want,’ he said.

I was desperate to turn to him and tell him he was wrong –
that of course I wanted children. That was my instinctive reaction. I’d always thought,
since I was a little girl playing with baby dolls, that one day I wanted to be
a mother. But now…

Did I still want children one day, knowing what I knew? It
seemed to me that was the fundamental question I had to answer before I could
even begin to think of telling Luke the truth: that any child we made would
most likely not remain human. Had tonight’s near-miss brought me any closer to
a conclusion?

I pushed aside my horror at the thought of pregnancy and
looked beneath. There it was: regret. I understood Luke’s lack of jubilation.
We loved each other. We’d love a child that was part-him, part-me. Babies were
beautiful, miracles. That one
didn’t
exist; it was a little sad.

But did the sadness outweigh the horror?

‘Scarlett?’ Luke slid his arms around me. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve
got this all wrong. Here you are, ill and upset, and I’m piling pressure on
you. There’s no reason we need to be discussing kids right now. Like I said,
we’re young. We’ve got lives to lead. So let’s put all this away, and get back
to enjoying what we have right now. Well, except for the bit where you chuck
your guts up…’

I smiled, then yawned.

‘Into bed, missy,’ he instructed at once. When I was back
under the covers he tucked me in tight enough that I’d probably be immobile all
night, and said, ‘Now sleep. You look like a zombie movie extra.’

‘Urgh.’

‘Indeed. Good job I’ve got a thing for dead girls.’

My eyelids were heavy now; all the adrenaline of this
evening had seeped away, leaving me totally spent.

‘Close your eyes,’ he said, and I did.

‘Love you,’ I mumbled sleepily.

‘Love you too,’ said Luke, and I felt his lips touch my
forehead.

‘We okay?’

Perhaps he answered. But if he did, I didn’t hear him.