It was two o'clock in the morning--the death hour--just as his own
eyelids were starting to grow heavy and ache, he saw Claudia's begin to
flutter into warning wakefulness. She moved in the bed and then opened
her eyes and stared at Garth, her gaze unfocused, her face waxy pale in
the low night-light from the main ward outside, her eyes bruised with
the starkness of her pain. Two o'clock in the morning--the death hour.
Her initial keening mourning cry rapidly escalated to rapid-fire, short
hysterical screams that brought two nurses running to her side. Sister
walked, but she still got to Claudia first, firmly taking hold of her
wrist while she checked her pulse.
She obscured Garth's view of the bed while she gave her two nurses
low-voiced instructions.
"What's that? What are you doing?" Garth demanded as one of them
scurried off to return with a hypodermic.
Tranquilliser," the staff nurse told Garth hardily.
"Mr. Knowles left instructions for us to administer it--if
necessary."
Garth had been about to protest that Claudia was only just coming
round, but it was too late;
Sister was already inserting the needle into Claudia's vein.
"She still doesn't know that Mr. Knowles has had to operate on her,"
the sister told Garth once Claudia had sunk back into
unconsciousness.
"She isn't strong enough yet to be told. Her body needs time to
recuperate from the blood she's lost and from the operation, and in her
present state..."
As she was talking. Garth had got up from the chair to walk over to
Claudia's bed. He looked down into her frighteningly shrunken and pale
face.
"I want to see him," he told the sister abruptly.
"I want to see the... my son."
She had been expecting it and this time she was prepared. So, too, was
the pathetically small scrap of humanity waiting for Garth in the
quiet,
simple 'parents' room', where parents were taken to be with their
stillborn child.
The room was painted in soft water-colours to look as though the sun
was coming up through mist. It was furnished with a deep, comfortable
sofa on which two people might sit comfortably side by side, their
bodies touching, and its interior could be discreetly monitored from
behind a small screen set into the wall just in case things should get
out of hand.
The babies were placed in a traditional crib draped in fine white
voile.
Garth's heart missed a beat as he walked into the room. The young
nurse who had escorted him quietly disappeared, gently closing the door
behind her. Garth hesitated just inside the room, unable to move,
unable to do anything other than stare at the draped crib.
Almost, almost, he could see it move, hear that sharp, high-pitched cry
of the newborn, and perhaps, if he concentrated enough, he would do.
Perhaps. Grimly, Garth gritted his teeth and walked towards the crib.
The baby lay inside it, dressed in white, his eyes closed.
Garth wasn't sure what he had expected but it wasn't this. not this
tiny but perfect little face and body. Very gently, he reached out and
touched one cold little hand with the tip of his finger. His hand was
longer than the whole of the child, his finger longer and broader than
its arm. Garth closed his eyes and for a moment the nurse watching on
the other side of the small screen thought he was going to turn round
and walk away, but then Garth bent and very carefully lifted the small
body from the crib.
The nurse looked away. Some things were too private for anyone else to
witness. Some sorrows, some griefs, were too intense to be borne.
Very slowly. Garth lifted the lifeless body of his son towards his
face. He was so tiny, so fragile, so. He was, he discovered, holding
his breath, afraid that somehow in his clumsiness he might
inadvertently hurt. Numbly, Garth swallowed. The small body actually
felt almost warm, almost what? he asked himself bitterly. Almost
alive?
"I'm sorry," he heard himself telling him.
"I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry."
It hurt more than he could say that they would never know one another,
never share the joy and despair of being father and son; that this,
these moments now would be all he would have of him, that for this, his
child, there would be, could be, no memories, no knowledge, no
awareness of how much he had been loved and wanted.
As he kissed the cold forehead and placed him gently back in the
crib.
Garth remembered how he had teased Claudia for talking to the baby as
though he could actually hear and understand what she was saying.
Perhaps. perhaps he had known of their love. Garth certainly hoped
so. As he stood up, he felt a surge of fiercely protective father love
sweep over him, a desire to prevent anyone else from touching, hurting,
doing anything to the small lifeless body. Why had this had to happen?
Why hadn't anyone been able to do something to save him?
Why hadn't he been able to do something?
"We'll always remember you," he told his son softly, 'and so will your
brothers and sisters. "
As he left the room, the nurse watching saw a single tear slide down
his face as he gave the baby a final lingering look.
But it wasn't until he was back on the ward that the full reality of
what had happened hit him. We'll always remember you and so will your
brothers and sisters, he had told him. But of course, there would be
no brothers and sisters, no child or children. Not now, not ever.
It was Claudia's screams that woke Garth up. He had fallen asleep m
the chair just after dawn had broken. Claudia had awakened shortly
afterwards, fully conscious this time and all too aware of what the
ominous flatness of her stomach meant.
Garth went with her when they put her in a wheelchair and took her to
see the baby. When he lifted him out of the crib to give him to her,
she held him so tightly that Garth almost winced and had to stop
himself--ridiculously--from protesting that she might hurt him.
It was the nurse--more experienced by far than Garth--who recognised
what was going to happen and who discreetly alerted the sister so that
when Claudia refused to allow anyone to remove the baby from her arms,
the sister was there within seconds and deftly administering the second
dose of tranquilliser as she had done the first. Even so, they had to
wait until Claudia was unconscious before they could prise her hands
away from her child.
In the end, it was almost a week before Claudia was well enough to be
told about the removal of her womb.
"You're very lucky to be alive," the surgeon informed her.
"Lucky... lucky..."
Garth winced as he heard the sound of her uncontrolled and
uncontrollable weeping.
No one was to be told about her hysterectomy, Claudia insisted to
Garth. No one at all, and because he was so concerned for her. Garth
agreed. So far as even their parents knew, Claudia had suffered a
miscarriage.
"It's awful, darling, I know," her mother had tried to comfort her once
Claudia was allowed home from hospital, 'and I know you don't want to
hear this right now, but one day there wall be other babies and. "
Over Claudia's bent head as the tears poured down her cheeks, her
mother gave Garth an apologetic look. She had suggested that perhaps
Claudia might like to go back with them to recuperate for a while, but
the doctor had already told Garth bluntly that the best possible thing
for Claudia would be to encourage her to get back to work just as soon
as she was physically capable.
"No point in allowing her to brood," he had told Garth man to man, 'and
that's what's bound to happen, given the situation. "
"Yes," Garth had agreed bleakly.
There was no talk now of continuing with their search for a new home,
or of his taking time off to be at home before getting on with his new
job, but Claudia was still not well enough to be left alone or to go
back to work. She alternated between clinging tightly to Garth,
refusing almost to allow him out of her sight and telling him that
their marriage might as well be over; that for all she cared he might
as well leave. After all, what was the point in their staying married
when so far as she was concerned at least, the very purpose for which
it was ordained no longer existed?
"Thousands of women, couples, can't have children, do," Garth had told
her gently.
"We could adopt...."
"Adopt ... adopt what ... who...? I want my own child... our own
child," Claudia had screamed at him.
They hadn't had sex since her return home despite the fact that her own
doctor and the surgeon had pronounced her well enough. At the merest
hint of any sexual advance from him, Claudia simply froze. What was
the point in having sex, Claudia had demanded passionately, when she
was no longer a proper woman, no longer able to conceive?
Plenty, Garth had been tempted to respond pithily, more than plenty as
his body was urgently reminding him. His desire for her was not
dependent on any ability to conceive--unlike hers for him, or so it
seemed--but whenever he tried to talk to her about the subject, Claudia
refused to listen.
"Sex, sex, that's all you ever think about," she stormed at him when he
pointed out to her very gently, or so he had thought, that it was now
some little while since she had left hospital and that although they
were still sharing a bed--they had to since the flat only had the one
bed after all--sharing it was all they were doing, with Claudia putting
just as much distance between them as she possibly could.
This was his last leave before he formally left the regiment, a few
weeks after he'd originally intended to leave, but the timing was, for
obvious tragic reasons, not so critical now. He had come home full of
good intentions; he would take Claudia out for dinner somewhere
special, and perhaps after a good meal and a few glasses of wine, she
might relax enough for them to be able to talk--really talk--together
as they had once done.
But it hadn't worked. Claudia had been tense all evening, and now that
they had returned to the flat, she was angry and defensive as she faced
Garth across the small sitting room.
"Claudia, that's not true," he protested.
But she refused to allow him to continue, interrupting him to demand
hotly, "Isn't it? Isn't that why you took me out for dinner, so that
you could get me " in the mood"?"
"Claudia, making love, being intimate--'
told Garth man to man, 'and that's what's bound to happen, given the
situation. "
"Yes," Garth had agreed bleakly.
There was no talk now of continuing with their search for a new home,
or of his taking time off to be at home before getting on with his new
job, but Claudia was still not well enough to be left alone or to go
back to work. She alternated between clinging tightly to
Garth/refusing almost to allow him out of her sight and telling him
that their marriage might as well be over; that for all she cared he
might as well leave. After all, what was the point in their staying
married when so far as she was concerned at least, the very purpose for
which it was ordained no longer existed?
"Thousands of women, couples, can't have children, Clo/ Garth had told
her gently.
"We could adopt...."
"Adopt ... adopt what ... who...? I want my own child... our own
child," Claudia had screamed at him.
They hadn't had sex since her return home despite the fact that her own
doctor and the surgeon had pronounced her well enough. At the merest
hint of any sexual advance from him, Claudia simply froze. What was
the point in having sex, Claudia had demanded passionately, when she
was no longer a proper woman, no longer able to conceive?
Plenty, Garth had been tempted to respond pithily, more than plenty as
his body was urgently reminding him. His desire for her was not
dependent on any ability to conceive--unlike hers for him, or so it
seemed--but whenever he tried to talk to her about the subject, Claudia
refused to listen.
"Sex, sex, that's all you ever think about," she stormed at him when he
pointed out to her very gently, or so he had thought, that it was now
some little while since she had left hospital and that although they
were still sharing a bed--they had to since the flat only had the one
bed after all--sharing it was all they were doing, with Claudia putting
just as much distance between them as she possibly could.
This was his last leave before he formally left the regiment, a few
weeks after he'd originally intended to leave, but the timing was, for
obvious tragic reasons, not so critical now. He had come home full of
good intentions; he would take Claudia out for dinner somewhere
special, and perhaps after a good meal and a few glasses of wine, she
might relax enough for them to be able to talk--really talk--together
as they had once done.
But it hadn't worked. Claudia had been tense all evening, and now that
they had returned to the flat, she was angry and defensive as she faced
Garth across the small sitting room.
"Claudia, that's not true," he protested.
But she refused to allow him to continue, interrupting him to demand
hotly, "Isn't it? Isn't that why you took me out for dinner, so that
you could get me " in the mood"?"
"Claudia, making love, being intimate--'
"Having sex," she corrected him bitterly.
"Very well, then," he agreed curtly. '"Having sex" , if you must, is
an important part of marriage. When you and I got married, we--' "I
didn't get married to have sex. I got married to have babies,
children, a family," Claudia told him fiercely.
"Without that... without them... sex to me means nothing."
Dumbstruck, Garth looked at her.
Was what she was saying the truth? Had the intimacy between them, the
sex, the loving he had thought they shared for their mutual pleasure
never been anything more than a mere means to an end? Once, he would
have laughed at the very idea, his body, his mind, his emotions, warmed
by the memory of her responsiveness to him, but it had been a long time
since Claudia had reacted to him with anything other than bitterness
and rage.
Her claim that she had never desired him for himself as a man hurt as
much as if he had been kicked in the stomach, leaving him grappling
with the sharpness of the pain and the humiliation of having been
caught out by the unexpectedness of the blow. Her words had damaged
his male pride, made him feel less of a man, and he acted
instinctively, crossing the floor and taking hold of her by the upper
arms, denying, "That's not true."
"Let go of me. Garth." Angrily, Claudia tried to prise his fingers
away from her arm.
"You're hurting me."
Bleakly, Garth focused on her.
"And do you think that you're not doing the same to me?" he challenged
her, but Claudia refused to listen.
"Sex, sex, sex. I'm sick of hearing you complain about it. If you
want it so badly, why don't you go and find someone else, someone who's
a proper woman... a woman..."
She broke off, her voice suspended by the tears that were suddenly
pouring down her face. Instantly, Garth's anger retreated, melted by
the fierce surge of protective love that swept over him.
"I never said that," he contradicted her gently.
"You are a proper woman, my woman, the only woman I could ever want."
"Oh, Garth."
Suddenly, she was the Claudia he remembered, the Claudia. his Claudia,
who suddenly felt all softness and warmth in his arms, all woman. With
a husky groan. Garth tightened his hold on her, but this time she made
no objection, her mouth opening eagerly beneath his kiss.
It was impossible for him to be as restrained and gentle as he had
planned, impossible to hold a tight curb on his emotions, on the needs,
both physical and emotional, that were swamping him, but gloriously,
wonderfully, Claudia seemed to be just as eager for him as he was for
her, clinging to him, kissing him back with a fervency, a passion that
made his heart race.
She was the one now who was the aggressor;
she was the one tugging his shirt free of his jeans and pulling
impatiently at the buttons.
They made love quickly, passionately, desperately almost, there and
then in the sitting room. Garth responded to Claudia's fierce
exhortations and demands by turning her around and bending her over the
low arm of the sofa so that he could enter her from behind, his hands
free to caress her body, his fingers stroking her nipples and then
moving lower, parting the outer lips of her sex and finding the tight,
hard nub of her clitoris and caressing it with the same rhythmic
pressure with which he was moving within the welcoming warmth of her
body.
But even in the intensity of his passion, his drive for physical
release, a part of Garth remained aware of her body's potential
fragility, and just before he exploded into orgasm. Garth acknowledged
that their lives were never going to be the same, that quite simply
they could not go back to being the people they had been. For the rest
of their lives now, there would be a part of him that felt extra
protective towards Claudia, extra aware of her vulnerability. A
vulnerability that he knew she had hidden from everyone else--her
parents, her colleagues and even her new doctor. She had decided none
of them was to be made aware that it wasn't only the child she had been
carrying that she had lost and she had fiercely resisted all his
attempts to persuade her to tell them.
His fingers still caressing her clitoris. Garth felt her body explode
into orgasmic shudders of release, but when he turned her around he
knew that the tears on her face were not merely tears of sexual
satisfaction.
"Oh, Garth, I don't know if I can bear it Claudia cried against his
chest as he folded her protectively into his arms.
As he tried to comfort her, his gaze fell on an open file she had been
reading, the girl's face staring up defiantly at him from the
photograph attached to it. His stomach muscles tensed in sharp
recognition.
"Who's this?" he asked Claudia as he released her to bend over and
pick up the file.
"Katriona Spencer," Claudia told him, taking the file from him and
closing it.
"I'm very worried about her. She's disappeared, left the squat, and no
one there seems to know where she's gone. Why did you ask?" she
added. The privileged aspect of her work meant that Garth rarely asked
her any questions about the clients--he was very sensitive and acute
over such matters and Claudia was grateful to him for the fact that
unlike some of her colleagues' spouses he had never shown any
resentment over the fact that there were certain things about her work
that she was not free to discuss with him. But then, of course, his
training in the army meant that he was well aware of the importance of
confidentiality. And there were, after all, certain things about his
own work that naturally he could not discuss with her.
"No reason," Garth denied in response to her question, shaking his
head.
How could he tell Claudia that he had recognised the girl in the
photograph as being the same one he had woken up to find going through
his clothes? She had quite obviously 'acquired' Claudia's house
keys.
His frown deepened. He wasn't quite sure why he felt reluctant to tell
Claudia about his discovery other than perhaps because, male-like, he
didn't want to cause any upset. They had, after all, changed the locks
and fitted a safety chain on the outer door, and besides, with any
luck, they would soon be moving anyway.
Dismissing Katriona from his thoughts, he pulled Claudia back into his
arms and whispered teasingly to her, "That was very nice for an
aperitif. Now how about something a little bit more... sustaining for
our main course?" As he spoke, he was gently urging her in the
direction of the bedroom.
"Garth, we said we'd spend the rest of the evening going through those
new details the agent sent," Claudia reminded him.
"Mmm... I know. But there's nothing to stop us going through them in
bed, is there?"
Claudia laughed.
"You know quite well that that isn't what you've got in mind at all,"
she reproved him.
Garth didn't bother to deny it. Instead, he gave her a wicked smile as
he picked her up bodily and carried her towards their bed. This was
more like it. This was more like the real Claudia. his Claudia.
28-09-07, 07:46 PM
جديد مواضيع قسم الارشيف
العرض العادي
