Fix You (19 page)

Just like that, her heart felt like it had grown wings and
flown out of her chest. Though welcomed, his words were like a bolt out of the
blue. In the course of a day she had gone from having nothing, to possibly
having it all.

They were so close.

“Okay.” Her words came out as a whisper, and she sat up, the
sheets falling from her body to reveal her naked chest. The twitch in Richard’s
cheek got stronger, and she rapidly grabbed the sheets and pulled them up to
her shoulders.

“I want to touch you so badly,” he confessed, his hands
balled into fists as if he were restraining himself. “But I’ve fucked
everything up so far.”

“Richard—”

“No, hear me out. You know I love you, I’ve always loved
you, and you don’t deserve to be anything but first in my life. I shouldn’t
have slept with you while I was still with her.”

“You were drunk. We both were.”

“It doesn’t excuse anything.” He was agitated now, long
fingers raking through his hair. “Let me try to fix this, let me do this right.
Can we try to just be friends until next week?”

Hanna sighed, relief flooding her chest. “That sounds good
to me.”

IT TOOK ALL day, but she finally found
the right man for the job. Like Hanna, Paul Spence came from a music-journalism
background, and his knowledge of the New York scene rivaled her own in its encyclopedic
nature. She felt a little sad she wasn’t going to be working alongside him in
New York. They’d hit it off from the start, and she’d spent half the interview
asking him questions about the gigs he’d been to recently, arguing
good-naturedly with him about the merits of various groups.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Paul,” she said, as the
elevator car arrived. “You’ll be hearing from us very soon.”

As soon as he walked into the elevator, she turned and made
her way back to her office. She grabbed her coat, shrugging it on, excited that
she only had half an hour before she would see Richard again.

How had she stood being apart from him for all this time?
Like a sculptor, he had taken the dull-grey clay of her life and made it into
something beautiful. She felt so alive.

It was five past six when her cell rang, and she tried not
to smile when she heard the jarring chords of
Last Night
by the Strokes
blaring out of her purse. Richard had been busy reprogramming her cell while
she was asleep. She liked these flashes of humor, amongst the seriousness of
their situation.

“Hello?”

“Hanna?” He sounded breathless. Beneath the timbre of his
voice she could hear the familiar sounds of the city; humming motors, beeping
horns and the perpetual drone of police sirens.

“Are you outside?” She didn’t bother to disguise her
enthusiasm. She was just so damned happy.

“Sweetheart, there’s been a change of plan.”

“Oh?” The excitement poured out of her like sand spilling
from a broken timer. “Are you still coming to pick me up?”

“Meredith’s been in an accident.” His voice was monotone.
Hanna frowned for a moment, trying to think of something to say; a reassuring
word, a peaceful sentence. But the only thing in her mind was pure, blind
panic.

“I’m on my way upstate now. It sounds bad.” His voice
cracked and she ached to touch him. Her hands curled around the thin air of her
disappointment, a poor substitute for his body.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll call you when I know more. Give me some time, okay?”

She took a deep breath, letting the oxygen fill her lungs,
holding it inside until the burning need to exhale took over her mind. Letting
it out with a whoosh, she eventually calmed herself enough to reply.

“Concentrate on Meredith. Let me know how she is.”

“I love you.” His words were desperate. Hanna tried to hold
on to them, like a child catching a bubble as it danced through the air. When
she opened her hands she feared it would be gone.

“I love you, too.” There was nothing else to say. Her mind
was bursting with the things she wanted to tell him, but they would have to
wait. Now, she had to let him go. He still belonged to Meredith. Until he
severed the tie, Hanna was the one on the outside looking in.

The guilt that she’d suppressed all day was growing like
topsy in her mind, and she wondered if it was a judgment from above or just
plain bad luck.

She began to suspect it was a little of both.

THE FOLLOWING WEEK, Hanna was leaving
the office, pulling her coat tight to block out the wind. It was already
getting dark; the evening sky was a cloudy grey, and though the weather was dry
the air tasted of snow. She was going to miss the extreme highs and lows of
living here—the stifling heat of summer, the bright oranges of the fall. London
was a beautiful city—and the one closest to her heart—but Manhattan had been such
a wicked love affair.

The wind was whipping up Second Avenue, and she turned up
the collar of her coat, regretful she’d left her scarf in the office. A black
sedan idled at the curb, grey vapor clouding from the exhaust, and she watched
with interest as the back door opened.

“Hanna.”

Richard climbed out of the car, putting his feet on the
sidewalk, and she found herself moving toward him. He looked so drawn; his skin
was pale, his hair messed, and she wanted to throw her arms around him and pull
him tightly to her.

“I thought you’d still be with Meredith.”

In the week since Hanna had last seen him, they’d only
managed to speak on the phone a handful of times. Most of Richard’s day had
been made up of sitting with his fiancée, sorting out her insurance, and
arranging her transfer to New York. Perhaps that was why he was here.

“I’ve been interviewing nurses.” His voice was the same
monotone she’d been hearing all week. It was like he was trying not to feel
anything. “Meredith’s being helicoptered back tomorrow.”

“How is she?” It was a stupid question. They were both
standing here, restraining themselves from touching each other. The only thing
stopping them was Meredith’s health.

“Still not able to move very well, the doctors say we have
to give it some time. They say with intense therapy there’s hope she’ll be on
her feet soon.”

“That’s good news.” The wind lashed against her cheek,
making her pink up. A solitary flake of snow fell in front of her eyes. The
thick clump danced in the air, in no hurry to reach the ground.

“I hope so.” He looked as awkward as she felt. Snow began to
fall heavily. He cleared his throat, glancing up at the roof of her building,
and she remembered he owned it. It was so strange, the way everything in her
life led back to him.

“I’m leaving next week.” The agony of being unable to touch
him was pulling at her soul. “But I don’t want to go.”

He was agitated, and she could see his eyes flash as he
tried to calculate something in his mind. “Why don’t you get the hell over
here?”

She was in his arms before he’d finished the sentence. It
didn’t seem enough to just hold him tight, she wanted to climb inside him until
they were one person.

“This is all so fucked up.” She looked up at him. His eyes
were glistening, too.

“I have to help Meredith get back on her feet. She can’t
live alone yet, she needs constant supervision.” He twisted his fingers in Hanna’s
hair. “But once she’s up and healed, I’m going to tell her everything. Then I’ll
be on the next flight to London.”

She dipped her head and nuzzled into his chest. His coat was
slightly damp from the snow, and she could see the little beads of moisture
clinging to the wool fibers. Those words were more than she had hoped for; it
was almost a promise for a future that could be theirs. But the thought of
enduring months of pain, of wondering, was too much to bear.

“I love you.” She ran her fingertips along the cold skin of
his cheek. She paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words. “But we
can’t carry on an emotional affair while you’re engaged to somebody else. I’ve
been on the other side of that and it would kill me to hurt somebody else in
the same way.”

His hold on her loosened. “I know. I’m such a shit.”

She tried to smile. “You aren’t. Circumstances could be
better. At least we won’t be tempted to see each other.”

“They invented these little things called airplanes—”

“You know what I mean. While you’re still with Meredith we
need to stop this thing. Come find me when things are better for you. I’ll
still have the same address, and I know you have my cell number.”

“It could be months.”

“I’ll be there.”

He stood right in front of her, tipping her chin with his
finger, lowering his own until his forehead was touching hers.

“You promise?” He was so close. She was losing herself in
the green of his eyes. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to kiss
him.

“I promise.”

Twenty

June 15
^th
2010

I
t was embarrassing, and more than a little
worrisome, that Hanna hadn’t even realized anything was wrong until two days
ago. She’d been sitting in Tom’s garden, watching him lose his wrestling match
with his shiny gas barbecue, and trying not to giggle, when she first noticed
the tiny kick. It felt a little like indigestion, though she hadn’t eaten
anything, despite her overwhelming hunger. Her friend Natalie had taken one
look at the way Hanna clasped her stomach with over protective hands, before
pronouncing, “You’re pregnant.”

A long discussion about the ability to have periods whilst
being pregnant ensued, followed by a mad dash to find a pharmacy that was open
on a Sunday. Natalie had eventually returned with three tests—all different brands,
a bag loaded with prenatal vitamins, and a bumper box of tissues for the tears
she knew would ensure.

Now they were in Tom’s car, heading for the prestigious
Portland Hospital, where he’d arranged for an ultrasound. Despite Hanna’s
protests, he’d argued she deserved the best care, and he’d pay for the initial
consultation.

“Have you told him yet?” Tom asked, as the car swept past
Regent’s Park. The grass was littered with half-clothed bodies, desperate to
take advantage of the mini heat wave in London. Hanna wondered idly if the
weather in New York was as warm.

“I’ve been putting it off,” she admitted, fanning her face
with her hand. Despite the noisy whir of the air-conditioning, the interior was
stifling, and she couldn’t seem to cool down at all. “I want to see the
evidence for myself before I call him.”

She was dreading it. Hanna had a vision of Richard jumping
on the first plane out, and sweeping her off her feet in a protestation of
love. What if that didn’t happen? It was four months since she’d seen him last,
and made him promise not to contact her until he was ready. She felt like she
was cheating, forcing things.

She hadn’t heard anything from him—not a word—and she’d been
avoiding the Larsens for fear he was staying with Meredith for good. Waiting
was hard enough; rejection would be a hundred times more painful.

“Were three pregnancy tests not enough proof?” Tom asked.
Hanna watched his dimple twitch above the curve of his jaw. “You should have
told him already.”

“What if he doesn’t want it?” She voiced her worst fear. It
didn’t make her feel any better.

“It’s not his choice to make,” he replied. Taking her hand,
he rubbed his thumb across her palm. “Even if he doesn’t want it, you know I’ll
always be here for you.”

Her heart clenched. Tom was too good to her sometimes—this
was definitely one of those occasions.

The car turned into the hospital’s private parking lot.
Outside the front entrance, a few photographers leaned on the walls, waiting
for the next big celebrity to emerge.

“Are you sure you want to come in with me? What if somebody
sees you?”

If the paparazzi spotted him, they’d both end up as headline
fodder. The Portland Hospital was a hotbed of celebrity births, and
photographers routinely hovered outside, hoping to catch an exclusive.

“Nobody’s going to see me. I’ve arranged for a space next to
the back door, and we’ll run in and out.” He pulled something from his pocket. “Anyway,
I’ve brought my beanie with me.”

Hanna laughed as he pulled the black, woolen cap over his
blond curls. He always knew how to diffuse the tension, whether it be asking
her to marry him when she found out she was pregnant—to which her answer was
no
—to
putting a winter hat on in the middle of the hottest day in fifty years. She
was so thankful to have him around.

Tom’s money talked, and it had a lot to say. Their parking
space was the best in the lot, and as soon as they walked through the back
door, she was ushered straight into an examination room. There was no hanging
around in the waiting room or form filling required. A couple of signatures,
and she was lying on the bed, top up and jeans down, cool gel being poured on
her stomach.

“You must both be so excited,” the radiographer said. Hanna
felt herself blushing at the inference and glanced over at Tom. He didn’t seem
perturbed at all.

“We are.” He winked at Hanna. She tried to smile back.

“Well, I’m going to take a look, make sure everything is
okay, and I’ll turn the monitor around and show you what there is to see.” The
radiographer’s voice was calm and reassuring, but the butterflies still flew
around Hanna’s stomach. “You think you are around four months, is that right?”

“I think so.”

“Well, there won’t be too much to see, but I’ll try and
point out some of the good stuff.”

Hanna looked down at her stomach, all shiny from the gel,
and wondered how she hadn’t suspected a thing. The slight protrusion seemed
obvious now, her stomach rounding up from her pelvis in a small arc. 

Tom leaned forward and took her hand in his. He looked more
nervous than Hanna as the radiographer silently moved the wand across her skin.
Hanna squeezed him back, flashing him a reassuring smile to try and calm him
down.

The radiographer turned around and smiled at them both. “Okay,
it all looks good.”

God, those words were perfect. Hanna hadn’t known the baby
even existed until two days ago, but suddenly her world revolved around a tiny
being no larger than an avocado.

Then she saw the monitor.

Her mouth fell open at the green and black image. Tears
stung at her eyes, as she looked at the screen, seeing the tiny outline of a
baby. She’d expected to see little more than a blob, but she could make out a
head, legs, and little arms flailing around as the radiographer pushed the wand
on her belly.

“Jesus,” Tom whispered. Hanna turned to see tears pouring
down his face. Her throat felt tickly and dry, and though she opened her mouth,
she couldn’t speak.

It was a baby.
Her
baby—hers and Richard’s, and it
was everything she wanted. Nothing in the world mattered more than the tiny
thing growing inside her.

“The baby looks perfectly healthy, and measures around four
and a half inches. I’ve put your expected date of confinement down as November
3
^rd
, but because you don’t know the date of your last period, it’s
not precise.”

“You’re going to have a baby before Christmas.” Tom’s
excitement was infectious, and Hanna grinned madly. She was already picturing a
tiny infant, all bundled up in a Santa outfit, cute and cuddly, and surrounded
by love.

“I’m going to take a few photographs for you now.” The
radiographer held the wand still and pressed a button on the keyboard, lips
curling down in concentration. “The baby doesn’t seem to want to pose. He or
she is a feisty little thing.”

A flash of pride warmed Hanna’s heart, and she wanted to hug
herself with glee. She was pregnant with a healthy, feisty, gorgeous baby, and
in around five months’ time she was going to be a mother.

A mother.

“He’s so beautiful.” Tom leaned in closer so his head was
right next to Hanna’s and they both stared intently at the monitor. The baby
moved its arm again, like it was waving.

“
She
is,” she corrected, unable to tear her eyes
away. Five months seemed so far away. Her mind started to make a list of things
to do: move house, build nursery, and buy shit-loads of useless equipment even
though she’d never use any of it.

“Okay, I’ll put your referral through. The obstetrician will
want to see you next week, and I’ll be doing some more tests at week twenty.”
She cleaned her stomach off. As Hanna sat up and adjusted her clothing, the
radiographer handed the photographs to Tom, who took them greedily.

“There you go, Daddy. The first ones for your collection.”

Tom laughed and didn’t bother to correct her, making Hanna
wonder if he was already feeling a little proprietorial about her child. She
was unsure if it was a good thing or not—she didn’t want to complicate things
with Richard more than she already had.

But then she thought about it, and if Richard refused to
help her, perhaps it was a good thing to have Tom by her side. She didn’t want
to go through this alone, and he seemed over the moon about her pregnant state.
It wasn’t as if there was anything romantic between them; they were just good
friends.

“Tom, you can’t tell Ruby about this, not until I’ve spoken
with Richard, okay?” The last thing she needed was for the Larsens to find out
before she’d told the father.

“My lips are sealed. But you know I’m gonna get a mini Fatal
Limits t-shirt made for your kid.”

She laughed. “This baby is going to be the coolest on the
block with you for a godfather.”

“Seriously? I’m gonna be a dad?”

His enthusiasm made her breath stop. Those were the right
words, but from the wrong mouth. “A god
dad,” she corrected, but her
words didn’t seem to dent his ardor at all. “You get to spoil the kid rotten
and take him or her out for its first drink.”

“Can I do it soon?”

“Only if it’s for a bottle of milk.” Hanna let him take her
hand as they left the room. “In the meantime, I’ll accept foot rubs and
home-cooked meals.”

“It’s a deal.” He winked, and she let herself feel a tiny
spark of hope. If Tom was this excited, perhaps Richard, too, would be over the
moon.

HANNA DIDN’T GO back to the office
after the appointment. She wanted to center herself, consider the implications,
and prepare herself to make the telephone call. She planned to do it in the
evening, when it would be lunchtime in New York, and she stood a chance of
catching Richard undisturbed.

She paced her flat, unable to concentrate on anything, or
sit still long enough to let the fear take hold. In the kitchen, she cleaned
the hob even though it was already sparkling, then she moved to her bedroom and
rearranged her t-shirts into color-order.

Anything to avoid the need to think.

Five o’clock came and went. She was prevaricating, telling
herself that ringing him on the dot of five was a little too keen, and he’d
probably still be in a meeting. By the time the hand on her kitchen clock was
showing ten past, she swallowed hard, and wished she’d asked Tom to stay with
her. This was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

At quarter past five she felt a tiny flutter in her stomach.
Even the baby was getting tired of her procrastination, and Hanna rubbed her
skin, unsure whether she was trying to reassure herself, or her unborn child.
She owed it to him or her to tell their daddy. And she owed it to Richard to
tell him the truth.

She unlocked her phone and opened up her contacts. Pressing
her finger on Richard’s name, she pushed it down on the green phone symbol and
watched the call connect before putting her cell to her ear.

One ring, two, and then three. Each moment stretched beyond
time, and the nausea in her stomach rose up until her throat tightened.

“Hello?” A female voice. Not what she was expecting.

She took a deep breath. “May I speak with Richard, please?”

“Who’s calling?”

“Hanna Vincent.”

There was a long pause. She was about to repeat herself when
the voice on the other end of the phone replied. “Hanna, this is Richard’s
mother, I’m not sure if you remember me.”

“Yes, I remember you, Mrs. Maxwell.” How could she forget?

“He’s not available right now. He’s with his fiancée.”

“I really need to speak with him, it’s quite important.”
Hanna surprised herself with her vehemence.

“I don’t think anything is as important as Meredith’s
health,” Caroline replied tersely. “She’s been told she will be in a wheelchair
for the rest of her life. The girl is crippled, Hanna. Whatever you want to
say, please don’t bother, you can only cause them hurt.” She paused momentarily;
as if to allow her words to sink in, before adding, “Don’t call him again.”

Hanna froze. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t
hear her own heartbeat. Reality fell like a ton of bricks, her previous
certainty deserting her. It couldn’t be true, could it? When she last saw
Richard, he was hopeful that Meredith would be able to walk again. How he must
have suffered, knowing that she was unable to walk, and he would need to stay
by her side.

She wanted to see the news in black and white, so she opened
her laptop and typed Meredith’s name into the search box. The details of the
accident flashed onto her screen. There was no news beyond the initial report
back in February. Hanna felt her heart break as she remembered the vibrant,
vivacious blonde, and tried to imagine her confined to a wheelchair for the
rest of her life.