Angel
Angel
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright ©2014 Benita Pearse.
All rights reserved.
Cover by Benita Pearse
Disclaimer:
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanic, including recording, photocopying, or any information storage and retrieval system now known of or to be invented, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for including in a magazine, newspaper or broadcast.
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Chapter One
She had her back to me, looking out the window, watching the snowflakes gather speed as they plummeted to the ground, three stories below. The first snow of the season. I looked down upon her, from the upstairs balcony: her head tilted slightly to the side, her arms folded in front of her. From this angle I could just see the side of her flushed cheek, her pink lips slightly curled at the end. And I just watched her, remembering back to the first time I ever met her. That warm summer’s day five years ago, when she walked into my life.
***
She was a breath of fresh air, arriving at an old haunt that I regularly visited in this old city that still exhibited the towers and walls from past built fortresses. She was an angel, whose light steps skipped through the grotesque corridor of ghosts that lined the buildings and streets of this ancient city. And I loved her. From the moment I saw her, I loved her. But she was only seventeen then, just a child.
And it wasn’t as if she’d flaunted herself. She hadn’t. Wearing capris, a light shirt, cardigan and sandals, the most I saw of her olive complexion were her legs, hands and face. She remained silent unless spoken to, held herself with graceful elegance, quietly contemplating the conversation that worked its way round her. But she wasn’t shy. Her demeanour unshackled her self-confidence. She didn’t need to speak. However, her hazel eyes – the combination of both her parents – captured my attention the most. The way she looked at me with them, used them to get what she wanted, took my breath away. And it always worked when she looked at me in that certain way, not that I let her know that in the beginning. I couldn’t. I had to wait, wait for her to come to me, wait for her to become an adult.
I came down the spiral staircase, and as I approached her she shivered. “Hi love. Are you ready?” I placed an arm across her shoulder and kissed her lightly on her forehead. A tear slowly trickled down her cheek as she stared into the snow, deep in thought. No, she wasn’t ready just yet.
***
I stayed there with her. Not wanting to leave her side. The apartment was warmer than my old one, the under floor heating here helped her cope with the differences in temperature from what she was used to. She no longer needed to keep layering her sweaters just to stay warm. I insisted that the builders put the heating in under the floors when they were completing the renovations. I thought it would help her. I was pleased I’d been so adamant about it now. This winter was going to be brutal.
The snow fell quicker, thicker. The mountains in the distance were gathering as much of the light dry flakes as possible for the winter skiers. I’d never visited the Carpathian Mountains, only ever saw them from here until two weeks ago. But I’d always admired them, loved how they stood majestically over the city. If only things were different, and they actually protected us properly, protected us from the evil that lurked around us. Hills like White Elephants sprung to mind. Appropriate for today. And I hoped, prayed, this would prove to be our white elephant.
The people down below us rushed to their destinations, disappearing into the pure white blanket. I could just make out the occasional bright scarf, or vibrantly colored hat as each person huddled into themselves, trying to protect their vulnerable bodies from the driving snow. The wind was picking up, and I imagined it whistling down the valley of buildings. The beauty of our wall of windows was we could see the outside world but couldn’t hear it, and no one could see into us because of the tint in the glass.
***
Our new apartment had proven to be invaluable to her. Further away from the university than the old place, it helped her settle, helped her cope with the prying eyes. She’d become a fascination, a topic of conversation. She was the one, and everyone knew. At least she didn’t have to go back, for now. To begin with, we didn’t mind the longer walk because we were together. Now, I wasn’t so sure it was a good thing. But this had become our home, the moment we entered it.
Home. It had a nice ring to it. Comfortable. And even though I’d had homes before, this time was different. This time I had her. She’d found it so hard when she first arrived. She’d led such a quiet, sheltered life, living on a secluded farm, in the middle of nowhere. So to come to a bustling city, and a large university had been a shock for her. To then have to learn a new language as well just made everything so much harder. I’d tried to help, give her the support she needed, but my job got in the way. I was the young dynamic professor, the catch of the century. The majority of the students either knew me, or knew of me. But I was never interested in anyone, until I met her that day.
Then, my life changed forever.
She described me as a celebrity, and probably to her it must have felt like it because we couldn’t go anywhere on campus or near my old apartment without us being stopped by a student or other member of staff. I was the resident expert on mythological creatures, separating fact from fiction, especially regarding vampires, one of the most popular subjects at the university. And my celebrity status all just became too much for her, so I bought her this apartment, away from the gawping eyes of the students and staff at the university. It became our home instantly. She was able to relax and enjoy being a student, then come home and enjoy being with me.
“Okay, I’m ready.” She turned toward me, heading to the sofa to get her coat, scarf, hat and gloves on. All I wanted to do as I watched her get ready was hold her forever, never let her go.
Chapter Two
“It’s going to be okay, you know.” I tried so hard to reassure her, let her know that everything would work out. But I wasn’t sure if it had made any difference at all.
“I love you. I always will.” Just telling her had me struggling with a lump in my throat. And all I wanted to do was hold on to her tightly, make love to her. But I couldn’t, and we had to go.
“Let’s get this over and done with.” She picked up her bag and keys, and headed out the apartment door, closing it gently behind her.
I worried about her when the weather was like this. I never expected her to have problems coping with it, especially coming from such a mild climate where she was used to the lack of sunshine, and a lot of rain. But I soon realised that it was the few degrees colder, constantly, all year round, that bothered her. She just never seemed to get warm enough when she ventured outside. She was so small, didn’t have enough of her own insulation to help compensate. And I couldn’t help warm her up no matter how much I wanted to.
I held her hand as she braced herself against the brutal wind. And I wished she’d made the appointment for another day, just so she could rest. She’d already been through so much. She didn’t need this right now. But then, she did. We both did. We just needed to know. It was just bad timing.
For the last two years we’d told ourselves it didn’t matter, coped with the battery of tests, the intrusion into our lives. I didn’t mind. I was older, and didn’t hav
e to go through as much. But she was still so young, and I didn’t know how she did it. She was a tower of strength, my tower. And now, we had reached this point, and there was no turning back.
After today, she was returning to England to tell her parents, and I knew that was going to be so much worse than anything she’d already been through. They hadn’t approved of us, of her marrying me. I was the foreigner, the unknown quantity, someone she couldn’t rely on. Now, she needed them, I needed them to help her.
“Do you need a break? We can stop at the coffee shop on the way.” She looked so cold even though she was wearing her new fur-lined winter coat that I’d bought her ready for the brutal weather.
“Not far now. I just have to keep going.”
I held her close to me, trying to shelter her from the cold wind and snow, making sure she wasn’t going to slip and fall. There weren’t many people out and about, preferring to stay indoors, I was sure. And I didn’t blame them. It had been a long time since we’d had a bad winter, and the weather forecasters were predicting the worst on record – ever – for this year. But then, I rarely thought about it anymore. The cold didn’t bother me; only seeing her struggle with it did it have me seething.
We reached the automatic opening front door and quickly stepped in to escape the gusts that howled round the entrance. The floor was slippy. “Be careful. Here.” I clung to her waist, making sure she didn’t lose her footing.
The hospital was warm so she took her coat, scarf, hat and gloves off immediately, and brushed herself down, straightening her virtually black hair with her fingers. She’d straightened it this morning. She hadn’t done that for a couple of weeks.
“It looks beautiful. You look beautiful. Come on, this way.”
We made our way down the long corridor to the elevators, pressed the button and waited, patiently. A few more people gathered behind us, presuming we’d already called for our ride upstairs.
“I hope Maria can see me early. I don’t want to have to wait.” Her quiet whispering was difficult to make out. She obviously didn’t want everyone around her to hear what she was saying.
“Maybe.”
The elevator arrived and she stepped in. I followed close behind. She pressed number 3 and waited for the other passengers to embark so we could get to our destination. Anxiety built as I realized – this was it. We were going to know today. I felt her arm snuggle up to mine, and I looked down at her. “This is it, isn’t it? We’ll know today?”
She just sighed, saying nothing. Our floor came quickly, and she moved her way from the cramped box into the awaiting hallway. I was right behind her, guiding her with my hand on her back. And once our feet were in the hallway, we both stopped, giving ourselves a little moment as the elevator doors closed behind us. We didn’t need to talk. Words couldn’t be used to describe what we were both thinking at that moment.
Chapter Three
“Lisa. Hi. You’re early but I’m ready when you are.” Maria had a purpose in her stride as she headed in our direction. “I just need to go to the NICU right now. Why don’t you come and join me, have a look around.”
We followed Maria to the double doors at the far end of the hallway. She swiped her security pass and the doors opened letting us all enter.
“I know this is daunting, seeing all this. But it will help. It takes the shock away for later, if it’s needed.” Maria took a step back and waited a moment.
“Why don’t you wait here. You can see what’s going on through the window. And I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Maria left us to watch.
The hallway was quiet. The glass protected us from the sounds of the machines and the occasional cry. Nurses busily went from one incubator to another, not paying attention to us being there.
A mother sat quietly in a chair, her tiny child resting between her breasts, wires and tubes attached to various parts of the baby’s body making it hard for the mother to reassure her crying baby.
A father watched over his daughter, stroking her cheek through the designated armhole in the incubator as a nurse checked the feeding tube.
“Lisa, please don’t worry. You’ve done nothing wrong. Just make sure you rest. I’m sure, things will work out. They have to.”
“This has been harder than I thought, Nick. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
“I know, love. I know. It’s all been so hard for you. I’m sorry. You’ve enough to deal with. How are you feeling? You’re not too tired?” I went to hold her in my arms, but she turned away from the window and headed down the hallway a bit, just enough so she didn’t have to see anymore.
“I love you, from the first moment I saw you I loved you. Now this. I’m angry, stressed, and I don’t like what it’s doing to me, to our baby. After today, I’ll go and tell mum and dad. But I’m not staying.” She didn’t turn around. Instead, she pulled her shoulders back and stood tall.
“Are you looking forward to telling them?” She was close to her mother…and her father.
“You know, all mum’s going to do is presume it was an accident and accuse me of not being careful enough. And then when I tell her it wasn’t an accident, that we did this on purpose, she will be livid. She’ll think I’ve come home to make their lives difficult, to give them a child that wasn’t healthy. They won’t wait to listen, won’t care how much I loved you.” Her shoulders sank slightly and a tear tracked down her angelic, pale cheek.
“I wish I could be there for you, to help you.”
***
“Right, are you ready? We can go to my office first if you have some questions, or we can just get straight to the main task. Your choice.” Maria was back, coming up behind me, smiling. Ever since we told her, I always got the distinct impression that she was as excited about this as we were.
“I’d prefer to get it over and done with, if that’s okay.” Lisa moved her body away from me. I held her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
We followed Maria out of the NICU and down a side corridor to where the maternity unit was. She took us passed the waiting pregnant mothers, couples, to a small examination room and closed the door. Lisa climbed onto the table and lay down. She lifted her shirt and nudged her trousers down in readiness; she knew the routine. There was a stool resting near her. I sat on it so I could be with her, so my head was at the same height as hers. I wanted to be able to talk to her, reassure her in any way possible.
A midwife came in and handed Maria a file. Maria opened it and checked some details. “How have things been for the past week? Anymore blood? Baby kicking? You’re at 28 weeks now, correct?”
“Yes. He’s been kicking more and more. But no more blood.” Lisa knew each date, each day. For the last two years she’d kept track of every one of them as we went through each procedure, each test, each invasion into her body just so we could be at this place now.
“Right, let’s see how these lungs are doing. And check the placenta, make sure it’s out of the way.”
“What happens if something shows up? What if you see something?” Lisa had never dared broach the subject of something being wrong, always telling herself – and me – that everything was going to be fine. The genetic counselling and IVF took care of my disease. We’d never considered that there could be anything else. Now, with everything else Lisa’s been through, the last thing we needed was for something to be wrong with the baby.
“Lisa, try not to worry. Let’s check the baby out, make sure he’s doing well. Then we can talk. I’m here, whenever you need me. Are you still planning on flying next week?”
“Yes, I have to go and see my parents. Let them know.”
Maria set the monitor up ready, and Lisa rubbed her belly. I placed my hand over hers as she made circles over our baby.
Maria squirted the thick gel onto Lisa’s stomach. Lisa jumped a little from the gel being cold. Maria held the scanner in h
er right hand, and operated the keyboard for the monitor with her left. “Okay. Ready?” And without Lisa answering, Maria placed the scanner into the squidgy gel and began to smear it across Lisa’s slightly rounded belly.
“You still have that paper to write when you get back. Don’t forget.” I wanted to distract Lisa from what Maria was doing. She had been working on some research into the movement of languages across Europe and been completing a lot of the work at home, not going into the university at all, but it did mean she needed to be on top of things more. Pro-active: she’d always been good at self-motivation…until recently.
I’d been so proud of her. When she first came to the university as an undergrad, she’d studied languages because she couldn’t think of anything else to do, learning Romanian as she went along. As a graduate student, she’d decided to advance into the field of linguistics. With already knowing five languages, two that she’d spoken since birth, she had a huge advantage when it came to understanding the nuances. And she loved what she did.
“I mustn’t forget to pick up a book from the library on my way home. I need it to finish that paper.”
“How’re you doing, Lisa? Is it hurting at all?”
“Fine so far. The pressure isn’t too bad. But no, it isn’t hurting.” I watched her as her eyes welled with tears.
“Oh my darling. Please don’t cry. I’m here.” I went to wipe her tears away with my hand, but she beat me to it, having a tissue already. I placed my hand on her face for reassurance, but it didn’t seem to help. Nothing helped her right now.
We stayed quiet, watching Maria concentrate on her task. I decided to lean back on my stool to see if I could see anything on the monitor.
“Do you want to see?” Maria asked Lisa and moved the monitor around so she could see. “The placenta is there, just out of the way which is good news. And the baby’s lungs are doing very well. After your scare, and us giving you those injections, the lungs are ready if you do end up going into premature labor. And look, he’s sucking his thumb. Can you see?” She pointed to the screen and turned it even further around so Lisa could see that part of the screen too. Lisa gave a little laugh and wiped her newly fallen tears.