Betrayal (22 page)

'It wasn't like that,' she said slowly. 'It wasn't like that at all.'

Mike watched her go into his employer's flat and shook his head sadly. There was no room in Neal's life for idealists, whatever their sex, and no doubt Lisa would eventually discover that. He wished she'd never met the man. He felt that was a far greater tragedy than anything she might see on the stage.

Once inside the flat some of the magic of the performance began to die away as Lisa realised that now was the moment when she'd actually got to tell Neal. She couldn't put it off any longer because she needed to know where she stood and what arrangements she must make for her future.

'Whisky?' He was already taking down two glasses.

'I'm not in the mood for a drink. I have to talk to you.' 'Talk away. I wonder if… '

'It's very important.'

He put his glass down and turned slowly to face her. 'I'm listening,' he said softly, but his expression was watchful, his eyes alert.

'I don't think you're going to be very pleased about this. In fact, I'm sure you're not, but… '

'Get to the point,' he said tersely. 'This isn't easy for me! You see… ' 'Is it another man?'

'No, nothing like that!'

Crossing the room he sat down beside her. 'In that case I don't think you need worry. I'm quite sure I can cope with any other emotional crisis you may have dreamt up.'

'I haven't dreamt this up! she said irritably, disliking his patronising tone. 'Actually, I'm pregnant.'

His face showed nothing. He looked at her for a moment or two and then stood up and went to collect his drink. When he returned there was a faint smile round his lips and a look that she could almost believe to be triumph in his eyes.

'You don't mind?'•

'Mind?' Now he was smiling broadly, putting his right arm round her with such exaggerated care she wondered if he thought she was carrying the child on her back. 'Darling Lisa, I'm overjoyed! This is wonderful news. I may have a son at last. I can't tell you what this means to me. I'm a very lucky man.'

Anyone would think they were a normal married couple, she thought in astonishment. He hadn't mentioned his wife or his family, hadn't suggested that she might have to hide herself away once the baby began to show. All he'd done was congratulate her and look exceedingly pleased with himself. She should have been highly relieved but instead she was faintly uneasy.

'What about Naomi? Won't this make things awkward at home?' 'Naomi?'

She might as well have named his pet dog he looked so puzzled. 'Your wife!'

He laughed softly. 'Don't worry about Naomi. She isn't important. You’re important. You and the baby. I don't want you overdoing things. You'll have to let Janice do more for Jessica because until the baby's born I'm not having you wrestling with that little animal, trying to carry her around while she kicks you in the face.'

Lisa flinched at his words but swallowed down her resentment as she forced herself to come out with her second worry. 'What if our baby's the same as Jessica?'

'Don't be ridiculous! As though you and I would produce anything like that. No, Jessica's her father's child. He's totally insane with his vile temper and perverse pleasures. You don't need to worry about that. I'm sure the specialist will put your mind at rest on that point.' 'Jessica isn't insane,' she said tightly, unable to keep silent any longer. 'She's sick. It's an illness. I thought you understood that.' 'The end result's the same.'

'I don't like it when you talk about her like that. I love her.' 'Highly commendable. You'll love our child even more.'

'I won't! I'll love it exactly the same.'

'I'm not going to quarrel over Jessica at a moment like this. Just remember that this one's my child, too, and I don't want your daughter causing a miscarriage.'

'I'm glad you're pleased,' she said, wondering why she was disturbed by his reaction. 'Exactly where do we go from here?'

'What do you mean?'

'I'm not going to feel quite so lively for our non-stop social whirl in the future. What will you do?'

'Go on my own.'

'While I stay in the mews cottage?'

He frowned. 'What on earth did you think would happen? You surely didn't imagine I was going to turn you out in order to put in a replacement? I love you, Lisa. You as a person, not just you as an attractive appendage. You obviously don't realise how much you mean to me. I thought I'd made it plain enough; perhaps I'm not very good with words.'

'I shall enjoy your new curvaceous figure! Seriously, I'm very proud and absolutely certain that this time it will be a boy.'

'Even if it is, you won't be spending much time with him. What with your work, your family and your social life, when will you get to see him? Friday afternoons from three to five?'

'Why are you so uptight about this?' he asked, pulling her on to his lap.

'Because I'm afraid. Afraid it will be like Jessica; afraid I won't be able to cope on my own; and afraid that eventually I'll lose you.'

'Now it's my turn to ask you something. Do you love me?'

She could easily have lied. It would have been so simple to have given him the answer he wanted and known that she was consequently totally secure, but she couldn't do it. Perhaps it was because of the opera, perhaps she was being unrealistic, but knowing that their entire future might be based on her reply she had to be totally honest, and with a sudden and inexplicable memory of Renato Bellini picking Jessica up at the park she found herself unable to lie.

'No, Neal. I don't think I do.'

He tightened his grip on her. 'I don't think you do either, but I don't mind. You'll come to love me in time, and I'm perfectly willing to wait. What do you feel for me?' he added casually.

'I'm very fond of you, and I admire the way you're always so organised and confident.'

'And sexually?'

'I enjoy our lovemaking.' 'Is that all?'

'I don't think the earth will ever move for me again! Toby destroyed something in me when he… It's good between us, Neal.' 'You've been brutally frank!' he said wryly. 'Not many women in your position would have been that honest.' 'Would you rather I'd lied?'

'Certainly not. I already knew the truth. I think you're very brave, but since I'm totally obsessed by you I'm not in the least discouraged. My ego doesn't allow me to admit defeat. All you need is time, and we've got plenty of that.'

'I don't deserve you.'

Neal took a sip of his drink. 'I only wish we could get married, but divorce is out of the question. Naomi and I go back a long way.'

'I never thought about marriage,' she said quickly and with absolute truth. 'I know how fond you are of Naomi. I wouldn't dream of… '

'I can't stand the sight of her,' he said dispassionately. 'However, let's not talk about that. We must work out what gynaecologist you're going to use and where you'll live once the baby's born. This place won't be big enough for four and I don't suppose you're willing to consider putting Jessica…'

'No!'

'Well, there's plenty of time to get the details sorted out. Now, how about a kiss to celebrate?'

It was very late indeed before Lisa left the flat.

Three weeks later, two days after Jessica's second birthday, she took her to see Dr Weissler in London. He was generally accepted as the up and coming specialist on autistic children but as far as Lisa could gather this was the first time he'd actually seen a patient while in England for a series of lectures. She was too thankful and nervous to stop and ask herself how Neal could influence such a man, accepting his usual explanation of money. Renato Bellini could have told her that Dr Weissler wasn't in need of money, but he was in need of assistance to cover up the unfortunate scandals that had dogged his career. Scandals involving close friendships with highly expensive call-girls in most of the capital cities of the world.

Although he was there under duress, Dr Weissler was charm itself, with a calming manner and a pleasantly dry sense of humour that appealed to Lisa. He discussed Jessica's birth and the weeks preceding it at some length before asking numerous questions, and only after that did he actually seem to pay any attention to the child herself. In reality he'd been watching her all the time. He'd seen how she refused Lisa's attempts to pick her up or nurse her, and watched the way she flattened herself against the wall as she undertook a never-ending circular journey round the room like a hamster on a wheel.

'Did she start to walk on time?' he queried, calling Jessica's name softly and noting the lack of reaction.

'She was on her feet at twelve months. I was amazed.' 'And her speech?'

'She doesn't talk.'

'No attempts at communication?'

'She makes noises but they're just sounds. Like a very small baby might make.'

'No speech at the present?' he repeated.

Lisa took a deep breath. 'Sometimes she does say words, but at the wrong time. I always say, "No, hot!" to stop her burning herself on the stove—not that she takes any notice—and sometimes now when I say "No" she says "hot" although she isn't very good with the letter "H" so it comes out as"'ot". But obviously she thinks "No hot" is one word.'

'Does she connect it with the stove or any other equipment where hot is applicable?'

'Definitely not.' 'Anything else?'

'She says, "Kettle on".'

'Why do you think she says that?'

'She likes the sound of it. I often say, "I think I'll put the kettle on", and she seems to like the last couple of words.'

'Tell me, is she particularly attached to anything or anyone?' 'Certainly not anyone but she's obsessed with that box she's clutching now. It's strange. Originally it contained a beautiful pair of earrings, but when I opened it up she wasn't interested in the shiny earrings themselves, just the box. Now it goes everywhere with her. She likes the iron door-stop in our living-room as well, but thank heavens that's too heavy for her to carry around!'

'How does she cope with pain? For example, when she falls?'

'I don't think she knows the meaning of pain. She'll bang her head against things until she's covered with bruises unless I stop her.'

'I'd better take a look at her. Jessica, would you come here a moment?'.

Lisa never forgot the next twenty minutes as Jessica hurled every possible object off the specialist's desk, kicked him in the face, spat at his nurse, screamed on one piercing note until Lisa's ears were hurting and then arched and rolled her rigid body as though in a fit, even biting Dr Weissler's hand when it came close to her mouth.

Eventually he finished and Jessica scuttled under his desk and began to chew on her thumb while crooning the 'Toreador Song' from Carmen, rocking to and fro as she did so.

'She likes music?' he asked, apparently unperturbed by all she'd done.

'Yes. She only has to hear anything once and that's enough.' 'These children quite frequently have what we term islets of exceptional skill in the midst of their apparently uncoordinated lives.

'I don't think there's any doubt at all that Jessica is suffering from infant autism. She's quite severely affected as is demonstrated by her total rejection of all emotional relationships. They disturb her and she blocks them out. Her speech is virtually non-existent, and clearly she has no grasp of the meaning of words. Mind you, there have been times when older autistic children have learnt to write, and even if speech is still beyond their reach their grasp of the language is shown to be average or even higher for their age. A great puzzle to us all.'

'You can't tell me what her prospects are?'

'I'd be lying to you if I pretended that she had any. It's very rare for an autistic child to function at even the most basic level required if they're to fit into the community.'

'And there's no treatment?'

'There are pills, sedatives, drugs to quieten her down.' He didn't sound as though he approved, and neither did she.

'Is there something that I can do? I often feel that she's waiting just out of reach; waiting for me to make contact.'

'That could be maternal optimism. But there is a school of thought that believes in an interesting form of therapy, and has had one or two startlingly good results with it. Unfortunately, trained counsellors are rare. They're also very expensive because they have to devote hours to both the child and its mother.'

'Its mother?'

'Yes. The therapy is based entirely upon touch. Holding, to be more precise. You would have to be willing to hold Jessica for up to two hours a day every day of the week, month after month. Obviously at the beginning at least this would be against her will. It's an exhausting and time-consuming exercise that doesn't always work . Indeed, one or two children have gone backwards, been driven even deeper into themselves by such forced and intense confrontation with their own fears.'

Lisa felt sick. It took all of her strength and skill to keep Jessica still long enough to be dressed or bathed. The thought of holding her for hours at a time was so terrible that for one tiny moment she wavered, but then she looked down at her lovely child, now patiently watching her fingers as she waved them in front of her eyes, and knew that she had to try. If it held out even the slimmest hope then it had to be done.