Losing You (60 page)

For a moment nothing happened, then, to Emma’s dismay, Lauren pulled her hand from his.

‘I’m sorry,’ Oliver said again, ‘but I couldn’t go on lying to you ... Well, not lying exactly, but not telling you how ... how we ... met, I suppose.’

Lauren was regarding him intently, but it was impossible to gauge what she was thinking. In the end, in her tragically mangled way she said, ‘So you come to see me because you feel guilty?’

‘Of course I feel guilty,’ he cried, ‘what kind of person would I be if I didn’t?’

‘Yooo-ou feel sreee fr mmmmeee.’

He clasped his hands to his head. ‘I feel sorry this has happened. I wish to God it hadn’t, but then I wouldn’t know you and all I want is to know you and be with you.’

Emma waited for a moment, and when neither of them spoke again she said, ‘I know this has come as a shock, darling, but try to think of what it’s been like for Oliver too. It was a terrible experience for him ... He didn’t know ... He couldn’t be sure at the time whether or not he’d killed you. And you were in the middle of the road on a very dark night. Your car had broken down. We think you were trying to get a phone signal, and that was when Oliver came along.’

Lauren’s eyes were still on Oliver, even though he was hanging his head.

‘If you want me to go,’ he said wretchedly.

Lauren started to lift a hand. It took a while, but eventually she rested it on his hair.

He glanced up at her, and seeing the tender look in her eyes he caught her hand and pressed it to his cheek. ‘You
know how I feel about you,’ he whispered huskily. ‘You mean everything to me.’

Lauren’s lips moved before the words finally came. ‘Annnd yooo-ou to mmmeee,’ she told him. ‘I’mmm gl ... dint die. Woodunt know yoooo-ou if I did.’

I’m glad I didn’t die. I wouldn’t know you if I did
.

Feeling a lump forming in her throat, Emma decided to wait for another day to tell Lauren that Oliver’s family was behind the golden angels scheme. All she could do now was drop a kiss on both their heads before discreetly leaving them alone together.

‘So how did it go?’ Russ demanded as soon as he answered the phone.

Realising he’d been on tenterhooks, Emma smiled as she said, ‘They’re fine. She was a bit thrown by it at first, but I’ve come away with a feeling that this is actually going to bring them even closer together.’

Russ’s sigh of relief was audible. ‘That daughter of yours is a very remarkable young lady,’ he declared. ‘The more I hear about her, the more impressed I become.’

‘Well, your son is a very remarkable young man. It took guts to do what he did today. He could have left it to me, but he insisted on doing it himself and it really was the best way.’

With a note of irony in his voice, Russ said, ‘I’m glad it worked out, for them, of course, but for us too, because I don’t know about you, but I’m not good at broken hearts.’

Emma had to laugh. ‘Is anyone?’ she said. Then, ‘Oliver mentioned last night that if it did go well today he’d like to bring you to meet Lauren. Are you up for that?’

‘Of course, it would be my pleasure.’

‘It would have to be here, at the centre, of course, and I was thinking ... Well, she has a birthday in a couple of weeks. The staff are going to put on a little celebration for her, and her great-grandmother is hoping to fly over from Italy to join us, so I was thinking that perhaps it might be a good time for you to come. It won’t make too big a deal of it if there are others around. However, you need to be sure you can handle all us women at once.’

Sounding amused, he said, ‘I’ll do my best. If you just
let me know the date and time and dress code if there is one, I’ll be there.’

Laughing, Emma replied, ‘Well, if you want to dress up I was considering hiring a clown for the day.’

Silence.

Trying not to laugh again, Emma went on, ‘But I’m sure she’ll tell me at nineteen she’s too old for such things.’

‘God, there’s a relief,’ he choked.

Emma was still smiling as she drove out of the hospital car park a few minutes later, in a hurry now to get to Weston-super-Mare for a meeting with North Somerset Health and Safety Executive, who were going to end up shutting the arts festival down if they carried on the way they were. After that she needed to be back at the hotel to meet with Hamish Gallagher’s wife and a local artist who was something of a national celebrity. Her schedule of meetings was growing by the day, making the demands on her time so great that she had no idea how she was going to fit everything in.

Something she’d never allowed to happen, however, was a single day to pass without seeing Lauren, even though it was sometimes no more than a snatched few minutes watching from the wings as she underwent one of her gruelling therapy sessions, or a brief goodnight at the end of the day. She knew Lauren loved her being there almost as much as she loved to hear about the festival and how the arrangements were coming along. Many of the ideas for advertising and promotions had come from Lauren and Oliver. Oliver had provided the greater part of these, since this was where his interests lay, but there was no doubting Lauren’s enthusiasm for the event, or her determination to be there for the opening day.

Emma would love nothing more than for that to happen, and since the date was still two months away she was daring to hope that it actually might.

It was the day before Lauren’s birthday already, and Russ had just popped into a jeweller’s in Clifton to pick up the gift Oliver had ordered the week before. Following his son’s strict instructions, he then sent a text to confirm that
he had the precious item and that it was presented exactly as he’d requested. That done, finding himself with some time to spare before the meeting which was the main reason for coming into Bristol, he decided to call round to pick up Sylvie’s mail.

Since he dropped in at least once a week and Connie kept an eye on things too, there wasn’t much to sort through, mostly junk, a couple of invitations to charity events, and a bank statement that he only glanced at, until the bottom figure eventually registered with him. Looking at it again, he felt both puzzled and disturbed. He was sure that the last time he’d checked this particular account it had been in credit to the tune of fifty thousand pounds. Now a mere two hundred and forty pounds remained. The missing forty-nine thousand seven hundred and sixty had been electronically transferred to an account at the First National Bank of South Africa. If the account had been in Sylvie’s name he’d have probably thought, or hoped, that she was using the money to pay the clinic. As it was in the name of one Johann Fortrum he couldn’t help feeling more than a little concerned.

‘Yes, yes,’ Olivia confirmed, sounding slightly harassed, when he got hold of her, ‘that is the name of the man she has been staying with, but I have some news, Russ.’

Something in her tone warned him that he wasn’t going to like this much.

‘We picked her up from the hospital an hour ago,’ Olivia went on. ‘We only got the call this morning, but she has been there for the past two days after having her stomach pumped.’

Tension shot through his body as he imagined another suicide attempt. ‘What was it?’ he asked, trying to quell the shameful hope that she might one day succeed.

‘A mix of drink and antidepressants, apparently. I don’t know if it was deliberate, but she is saying now that she might as well be dead because you and the boys won’t come to see her.’

Russ’s eyes closed as the wretched waves of guilt and resentment washed over him again.

‘I am sorry to tell you this,’ Olivia continued. ‘Hans said
I shouldn’t, but I am afraid she might try to do something again.’

Bring on the emotional blackmail
, Russ thought bitterly. Not Olivia, Sylvie, because that was what it was about, he felt sure of it. ‘What’s happening with the clinic?’ he asked. ‘Is there any chance of getting her back there?’

‘I am not sure. I would like to think so, but probably not immediately.’

‘So will she carry on staying with you?’

‘For the time being, I think, but Johann has been in touch. He wants her to go back to him.’

Groaning inwardly at the mere thought of her returning to some sort of love nest with a fellow drunk, he said, ‘Will she go?’

‘It is hard to say. You know how unpredictable she is. I think possibly it will depend on how much drink we will allow her to have. Hans says she must have some to be able to function, but I know a glass or two with meals will not be enough for her, and it is very alarming when she becomes abusive.’

This was starting to sound as though Sylvie was becoming too much for her own sister, and if he was right about that then he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do. Leaving it for the moment, he said, ‘Do you know anything about this money? Why has she transferred it to him?’

‘All I can tell you is that she has been talking about opening an account here so she could have her independence. Perhaps she had some difficulty with it, she would not be able to produce all the correct documentation to prove she was not laundering the money.’

‘So she dumped it into his account?’

‘
Peut-être
.’

Sadly, it made sense. ‘Nearly fifty grand to a drunk,’ he muttered. ‘Just think of the parties.’

‘Maybe he will give it back.’

‘Tell you what,’ he responded, ‘I won’t be holding my breath for that. Can I talk to her?’

‘If you hold on I will go to see where she is.’

‘Hang on, what kind of state is she in? Is it even worth talking to her?’

‘I think so. She is still very tired after her ordeal, and her throat is sore, as you’d expect, but I know she will want to talk to you.’

Feeling terrible for wishing he hadn’t bothered to ring, Russ glanced at the time as he waited. He was going to be late for his meeting now, and distracted when he got there, and stressed and increasingly furious about the fifty grand which she’d virtually just thrown away. Not that he cared for himself, it was her money, she could do what she liked with it, but she had one son who might soon need some help funding the purchase of a flat, and another who was earning nothing while he tried to help the girl he’d almost killed, thanks to his bloody mother.

There were times when he felt that if she didn’t finish herself off he might just do it for her.

Sylvie’s voice was husky and frail as she said, ‘Hello Russ. How are you?’

Even the sound of her irritated him, made him want to shake her and tell her that everyone was at the end of their tether because of her. She wouldn’t hear him even if he did, because she only ever heard what she wanted to. So all he said was, ‘I’m fine. I hear you’re not.’

Her sigh was tremulous as she said, ‘I am glad to speak with you, but please do not be telling me off for what I have done.’

‘I guess you’d rather I congratulated you.’

‘Oh Russ, you are always so cross with me. It is because of this that I am so unhappy.’

‘You’re unhappy because you’re screwing up your life, and until you do something about it nothing’s going to change.’ How many times was he going to say that for her simply to ignore it? Why was he even bothering?

‘I am trying, but you make it very hard for me. I want to see you and Charlie and Oliver, but you will not come, so I think I must fly home.’

God forbid! ‘No, what you must do is check yourself back into the clinic, get with the bloody programme, and
then
maybe we can talk about you coming back.’

There was a long silence, so long that he thought she’d
hung up. Finally, she said, ‘I will do this, I will return to the clinic, if you will take me there.’

Clenching his fists as he gave a silent growl of frustration, he replied, ‘I’m not playing this game, Sylvie. I need to see you making an effort, staying at the clinic, and showing us all that you’re serious about helping yourself. Then, and only then, I might think about coming over.’

‘But I am serious.’

‘Staying less than a month before running off to shack up with some bloke who’s as big a lush as you are isn’t saying serious to me.’

‘You are jealous about Johann?’

‘For God’s sake, Sylvie, what the hell do I have to be jealous of?’

‘He is a very good man. He takes care of me.’

‘Oh yeah, so you end up in hospital having your stomach pumped. That’s great care. What you actually mean is he opens the next bottle, or pours the next glass.’

‘Please stop being so harsh with me. I do not deserve this.’

Reminding himself that getting worked up was going to achieve precisely nothing, he stated, ‘Three months at least. That’s how long you need to be in the clinic before I’ll even consider coming to see you.’

‘But Russ, that is too long. I miss you and I know this is a trick, because after I do this you will find another reason not to come. I need you here now, today, or I do not know what will happen to me. There will be no reason for me to go on.’

Hardly able to contain his fury, he said, ‘Don’t you dare start threatening me like that. You tried it on Oliver, remember, and look what happened to him, so ...’

‘Oliver, my baby. How is he? I want to see him so much. Please bring him to see me. I beg you, please. I know he is angry with me, but I am his mother. He will want to be here for me.’

Taking the only way out he could, he said, ‘I’m going to ring off now. I hope the next time I talk to Olivia ...’

‘Russ, don’t go, please,’ she cried in a panic. ‘Come tomorrow. I will wait for you at the airport.’

‘Don’t, I won’t be there.’

‘You must be, or I swear it will be the end for me. I cannot go on without you all ...’

As he put the phone down he could still hear her voice, pleading and desperate. He imagined her sinking to her knees, sobbing over the phone in pathetic despair. Olivia would come to comfort her, so would Hans if he was there, but how long would it take for her to escape them and return to Johann? Once there she would have all the vodka or wine she could wish for. She’d swill it back by the bottle, blaming him entirely for her misery, becoming more determined by the minute to punish him for her downfall. What kind of pills did Johann have at his place? Who was the supplier, a respectable doctor or a pusher? No respectable doctor would put serious antidepressants into the hands of an alcoholic, unless he had no idea he was confronting one.