Losing You (59 page)

‘Oh no, she’s at his place in Camps Bay, and she’s saying she won’t go back to the clinic unless I send the boys out to see her.’

Emma couldn’t help but feel his frustration and dismay. ‘So what are you going to do?’

‘Nothing, because allowing her to blackmail us like that will just make her carry on doing it.’

Though she could see the sense of that, she could tell how difficult he was finding it. ‘She has family out there, doesn’t she?’

‘Yes, her sister and brother-in-law, who are being as supportive as they can. I spoke to Olivia last night after she’d been out to Camps Bay to see for herself what kind of state Sylvie’s in. Thankfully, the man, whoever he is, seems to have a decent home and a family that cares about him too, but that said, they were both drunk when Olivia got there, and apparently Sylvie’s thinner than ever.’

‘Because she doesn’t eat?’

‘Hardly at all. Alcoholics often don’t.’ He took a breath and let it go slowly. ‘To be honest, I’m past knowing what to do. I’ve been to AlAnon a few times over the last year or so, and though it’s helpful to hear other people’s stories, the bottom line remains the same: until she’s ready to help herself ...’ He broke off as the waiter came to set down their fresh coffees.

‘Does Oliver know that she’s checked out of the clinic?’ Emma asked when they were alone again.

Russ shook his head. ‘Olivia doesn’t think I should tell the boys, and I’m inclined to agree for now. They’ve got their own lives to lead – Charlie’s just started a pupillage at a very good chambers, and you know as well as I do how involved Oliver is with Lauren’s recovery. They can’t be rushing off to Cape Town to satisfy the whim of a mother who probably won’t even remember that she asked them to come by the time they get there. Actually, I’m not even sure they’d go. They’re incredibly angry with her, especially Oliver, for obvious reasons. It’s not easy being the child of a drunk, watching someone you’ve loved so much turning into someone you find yourself starting to hate. And we do hate what she’s become. It’s impossible not to, particularly when there are so few signs now of who she used to be.’

Sensing the depth of his impotence and sadness, Emma found herself wishing there was something she could do. Of course, there wasn’t, but knowing what he and Oliver were doing for Lauren, in spite of their own problems, was filling her with a need to reciprocate in some way. But how,
when he was clearly a very proud and private man and when she didn’t really even know him?

By the time they finally left the cafe the lunchtime crowds were starting to pour in and they were both amused by how long they’d been there, and slightly embarrassed by how much they’d talked about themselves.

‘I hope I haven’t bored you to death,’ he winced as they walked to where their cars were parked on the leafy square.

‘Not at all,’ she hastily assured him. ‘It seems to me we were both in need of airing a few things, and sometimes it’s easier with a stranger than with someone you know.’

He nodded agreement. ‘Actually, I hardly talk about myself at all,’ he admitted, ‘which I guess could be considered one of my many failings. Sylvie has a full list of them, and apparently they’re what drove her to drink.’

Appalled, Emma turned to look at him. ‘You don’t believe that, surely,’ she protested.

He smiled. ‘I’m not that much of a masochist, but I’m sure I haven’t always been easy.’

She gave a sigh. ‘Marriage is a very tricky business, isn’t it? But having said that, I know very well that the breakdown of my own was entirely Will’s fault, because when I’m not busy being a mother, I’m simply being perfect.’

With a shout of laughter, he came to a stop beside her as they reached her car. ‘I’ve enjoyed meeting you,’ he said, shaking her hand. ‘It probably wasn’t polite to sound quite as surprised as that, but I must confess to some trepidation before I came.’

She nodded understandingly. ‘Yes, I am pretty scary,’ she said with a chuckle. Then, more seriously, ‘I appreciate you telling me about the charges. Of course I have mixed feelings about the decision to drop them, but with all things considered, what makes far more sense to me than Oliver losing his licence or being sent to prison, is that he goes on helping Lauren.’

Russ smiled. ‘How do you think Lauren’s father is likely to respond when he finds out about the charges?’

Emma grimaced. ‘It won’t be pretty, that’s for sure.’

Russ nodded and let go of her hand. ‘You’ve been very gracious over this, thank you.’

Had she been gracious, she was wondering, as he walked away and she got into her car. Or selfish? Possibly a little of both, with some plain old pragmatism thrown into the mix. After all, the decision had been made now, she couldn’t change it even if she wanted to, but she really did think it was the right one. There were certainly going to be plenty of people who’d disagree with her, but fortunately those closest to Lauren, who were able to see for themselves the difference Oliver was making to her, wouldn’t be amongst them. And they were the only ones who mattered to Emma. She felt pleased for Russ Lomax, too, that he no longer had to live in dread of his younger son being sent to prison, or visualise the nightmare of living with a young man whose freedom to drive had been taken away.

He was a good man, she decided, taking out her phone to check her messages, and a caring father who she couldn’t even begin to imagine failing his sons the way Will was failing Lauren. He’d also, she realised, as she scanned the first few texts, been discreet enough not to ask about where Lauren had been the night of the accident. He must be curious, who wouldn’t be when it had featured in such a momentous decision, but he’d apparently understood that the issue wasn’t open for discussion. She’d have liked very much to believe that it would never come out, but since every message on her phone was from a journalist asking for her reaction to the decision to drop the charges, she’d be a fool if she did.

Chapter Thirty

LAUREN HAD BEEN
undergoing her gruelling schedule of rehabilitation for just over a month now and had not only become one of the most popular patients at the centre, but one of the most determined to master all the tasks she was set. It hadn’t taken her long to be able to read almost as well as she had before; or to write, though with a very clumsy hand, and she’d recently moved on from simple twenty-piece jigsaws to considerably more complicated ones. Her speech was coming along fairly well too, though it still sounded as if her tongue was too heavy for the words, and to her frustration her ability to apply her make-up hadn’t yet reached a point where she could avoid stabbing herself in the eye, or drawing crooked clown lips around her own. Trying to look her best for Oliver wasn’t a prescribed part of her daily routine, but caught up in the romance of the young couple as they were, a nurse or occupational therapist was always happy to help out, carefully guiding her hand as she darkened her lashes with mascara and coated her lips in a frosted-rose gloss. All the staff had become so fond of Oliver that visiting hours no longer seemed to apply to him.

A week ago Lauren had been declared strong enough to take her first shaky steps on crutches; by yesterday she’d managed a full ten metres without toppling, and with Oliver waiting at the end of the track to scoop her into a proud embrace. Emma had been there too, watching from the sidelines and loving him so much for how gentle and yet assertive he was with Lauren.

The press had gone to town with the dropping of his charges, naturally, lambasting everyone from the police, to
the CPS, to the government, for such a ‘travesty of justice’. One paper had wondered, on its front page, if someone at the labs had been paid to ‘misplace’ the blood sample, but as they could find no proof of it, the mischievous speculation was taken no further. Emma herself had repeatedly declined to comment on the decision; getting involved in any kind of statement at all, she felt, would inevitably lead her into a minefield of questions that would inevitably lead her to the very place she didn’t want to go. Will, however, in typical Will fashion, had loudly and publicly warned the police and the Lomax family that they hadn’t heard the end of this yet. Whether he was actually planning some sort of action Emma had no idea, because he still hadn’t deigned to call her; and her resolve not to call him remained firm. However, she’d rung Russ Lomax, after catching Will holding forth on the news, to ask him to let her know if he ever did hear anything from her ex-husband or his lawyer. So far he hadn’t, and Emma was staying hopeful that Will would once again prove himself full of nothing but hot air.

Exactly how much Lauren now remembered of where she’d been before the accident wasn’t easy to tell, when she was still finding it hard to communicate lucidly or at any length. At Emma’s request, Melissa had tentatively broached the subject with her, but when Lauren hadn’t seemed to understand what was being asked of her Melissa hadn’t pushed it. Of course nothing had been said in front of Oliver – that was something he really didn’t need to know. However, when Emma had met Russ for a coffee again a few days ago she’d ended up telling him about Lauren’s relationship with her teacher, not in any great detail, but in a way that she hoped might shift a little of the blame from his wife. It wasn’t that she particularly cared about the wife’s conscience, but if it lifted some of the pressure of guilt from Russ’s shoulders then she felt it needed to be done. He had seemed relieved, but also outraged by Leesom’s exploitation – and deeply sorry that Emma had found out about it the way she had. ‘I just hope the man’s conscience is even more crippling than the loss of his job,’ he’d declared angrily before they’d parted.

Leesom had been replaced already, by a woman with an incomparable track record who’d be joining the school at the beginning of the next academic year. Emma had been told that by the headmaster when he’d rung to say that it would be an honour to have Lauren back as a student when she was ready to resume her studies. There would be no fees to be paid, of course, and if any extra tuition was necessary the school would be happy to provide that too. Though Emma had appreciated his confidence in Lauren’s recovery, and the sincerity of the offer, she knew in her heart that she would never be sending Lauren back there. It was doubtful anyway that Lauren would want to go, since it would mean leaving Oliver, and with the way things were Emma couldn’t imagine her ever wanting to do that.

There was always the possibility, of course, that Oliver might find himself a job in London, but since that bridge didn’t have to be crossed any time soon, Emma wasn’t going to allow herself to worry about it now. Particularly not when she had so much else to keep her awake at night, such as Lauren’s recent decision to write her father a letter, in her own hand (though thank goodness she hadn’t brought it up again since). Emma didn’t even want to think about how Will might react to the large, misshapen scrawl, so she was hoping Lauren wouldn’t force the issue. She was now getting to grips with organising the summer arts festival, and had become so immersed in it since its official green light that her gratitude to Oliver, and her mother, for always being there for Lauren had long since broken all bounds.

Watching Oliver now as he seated himself sideways on to Lauren’s wheelchair, Emma perched on the edge of the bed, and felt anxious for him as he took Lauren’s hand in his. He’d been wanting to tell Lauren for a while how they’d first come into one another’s lives, but it had taken him until last night to ask Emma’s permission to do so, and also to ask if she’d be there in case Lauren became upset and didn’t want him near her any more.

Emma didn’t think this was likely. However, she really wouldn’t have wanted this to be happening without her, so she’d rearranged her day to make sure she was there.

‘Yr-yr king veh ry see ... us,’ Lauren stammered, gazing quizzically at Oliver.

You’re looking very serious
. It often took Emma a moment to work out what she was saying, while Oliver seemed to understand straight away.

‘Actually, this is a bit serious,’ he told her. His back was turned to Emma so she couldn’t see his face, but she could easily picture the earnestness in his eyes and slight tremble of his mouth.

Lauren looked over at Emma. ‘Mmm-um,’ she said.

‘Yes, I’m here,’ Emma assured her, ‘and I promise there’s nothing to be afraid of.’

After a pause, Lauren’s eyes twinkled merrily. ‘No-ot frayd,’ she declared. Her gaze returned to Oliver, and Emma could see that in spite of her brave words she was starting to become apprehensive. What was going through her mind, Emma wondered. Did she think Oliver was about to tell her he was going to stop coming? Or that she might never be able to speak or walk properly again? Or that she’d done something to hurt someone without realising it? What were her big fears these days? Was Leesom in there somewhere, and the dread that Oliver might have found out? Emma hoped to God not.

Taking a slightly shuddery breath, Oliver said, ‘You know you had an accident, that’s why you’re in hospital.’ Emma saw his hands tighten reassuringly round Lauren’s.

Lauren nodded. ‘Hi-it by ... caaa-r.’

Oliver’s voice was faint as he said, ‘That’s right,’ and Emma could almost feel his heart thudding.

‘What we haven’t told you until now,’ he pressed on, ‘is that I ... Well, that I was driving the car.’

Lauren frowned and her head dropped jerkily to one side as she tried to peer into his eyes. It took a few seconds for her to muster the words, ‘Donnn’t unn ... stand?’

Swallowing, he said, ‘I was driving the car that hit you.’ He braced himself and went further. ‘It’s because of me that you’re here.’

Lauren still looked puzzled, and turned to Emma as though asking her to explain.

‘Oliver was driving the car that hit you,’ Emma repeated
gently. ‘It was an accident, of course. You were ... It was a dark night and he didn’t see you in time.’

Lauren’s eyes went back to Oliver. She rocked a little as she worked herself up to speak again. ‘Yooo-ou ran mmmee ov-er?’ she said.

Oliver nodded and Emma’s heart folded around his pain. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered shakily. ‘I ... I didn’t really know where I was, and then ... I ... I didn’t have time to stop, and the next thing I knew ...’