Emily

Chapter Twenty-two

Through a haze of pain, I kept dreaming of Marina and Rory in bed together, writhing like snakes on those navy-blue sheets.

Then I heard a familiar voice say, ‘The doses have been exceptionally strong, but her reflexes are much better.’

A woman’s voice said, ‘It’s unlikely we’ll get a peep out of her for twenty-four hours.’

Painfully, battling with nausea, I opened my eyes and there, miraculously, was Finn standing at the end of the bed talking to a nurse.

The image of Rory and Marina floated back in front of me, and I screamed.

Finn moved like lightning.

‘Darling Emily, it’s me.’

I went on screaming and yelling incoherently. He had his arms round me. ‘I’ll deal with her,’ he said. The nurse melted away.

I sat rigid. ‘I remember everything that happened,’ I said.

‘It’s Finn, Emily darling.’

I stopped screaming and collapsed against him. ‘Oh, Finn! Help me!’

‘You’ve had a bad dream.’

‘I remember everything.’ My lips began to tremble. ‘You promise not to do anything to find Rory? Not anything!’

‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured me.

He persuaded me to lie back on the pillows, but kept a firm grip on my hand.

‘Don’t go away,’ I whispered.

‘I’m staying right here.’

‘I thought you didn’t want me any more, and then I found Rory and Marina…’

‘Steady, darling, don’t think about it. You’re going to get better.’

‘But I saw them in bed together! I saw them!’

The edge of the cliff began to crumble. I started to scream and lash about. The nurse came back with a hypodermic syringe. I tried to struggle, but Finn held me still. Whatever it was they gave me worked instantly.

Next time I surfaced, I was calmer. I was in an ugly, fawn but sunny room. A fat nurse was arranging some daffodils in a blue vase. There were flowers everywhere. ‘Is this a funeral parlour?’ I asked.

She rushed over and started fumbling with my pulse.

‘Where am I?’

‘In hospital.’

‘Good old hospital. With hot and cold housemen in every bedroom.’

‘I’ll get Dr Maclean,’ she said, and belted off. I heard mutterings in the passage about ‘still being delirious’. Finn walked into the room.

‘Jump in, Doctor,’ I said, ‘we’ll be delirious together.’

‘It sounds as though she’s recovered,’ Finn said to the nurse.

He was one of those rewarding men who can betray emotion in public. His yellow eyes were filled with tears as he looked down at me.

‘Hello, baby.’

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Don’t try to talk.’

‘I missed you,’ I said, ‘I missed you horribly.’

He smiled. ‘I suppose you must have. You talked enough in your sleep.’ He looked absolutely grey with tiredness. The dope they’d given me had removed every vestige of my self-control. ‘I do love you,’ I said. ‘You’ve got such a lovely face.’

They kept me under gradually reduced sedation for the first forty-eight hours, bringing me back to earth slowly. I can’t remember when the baby drifted back into my consciousness, but I remember suddenly saying to Finn in panic, ‘The baby? It’s all right, isn’t it?’

He took my hand. ‘I’m afraid you lost it. We tried to save it, darling, you must believe that.’

I felt gripped by a piercing sadness. Then I said, ‘Where’s Rory?’

‘He’s fine.’

I said: ‘Where’s Rory? Tell me the truth, Finn.’

The yellow eyes flickered for a moment. ‘He hasn’t come back. He must be on the mainland somewhere.’

‘With Marina?’

He nodded. ‘I presume so. She disappeared the night you fell down the stairs. Neither of them has been seen since.’