Bill Fitzgerald had been the love of her life, and she had lost him in the blink of an eye. Lost him because of some insanity on the other side of the world. It was wrong, all wrong. He had been far too young a man to die.
It should not have happened, but it had, and she was alone. Just as his child and his mother were alone, bereft and lost without him. They were her main concern now. She would do what Bill would want her to do…console and comfort them.
They needed her. And she needed them.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
I’m glad Alice listened to you, Dru, and took her vacation,” Vanessa said, stirring the chicken soup she was making, peering into the pot on the stove. “It would have been foolish of her to cancel it, when she had it all planned.
But you know, she never did say where she was going.”
Dru did not respond.
Vanessa said, “Where has she gone, actually?”
Still Dru did not answer and Vanessa swung around, exclaimed, “My God, what’s wrong,”
threw down the wooden spoon, and rushed across the kitchen.
Drucilla was leaning back in the chair, her face drained of all color, starkly white against her red hair. She was clutching herself and wincing.
220 / Barbara Taylor Bradford Vanessa bent over her. “Dru, what is it?”
“Pain. In my chest. My left arm hurts. I think I’m having a heart attack.”
“Don’t move! I’ll get the car. Southampton Hospital’s not far away. On Meeting House Lane. I’ll have us there in a few minutes. Just don’t move, Dru. Okay?”
Dru nodded.
Vanessa ran to the garage, backed the car out, parked it near the cottage, and leapt across the lawn to her studio. She had left Helena drawing there earlier. Pulling open the door, she called,
“Helena, come on, we have to go!”
“Where?”
“To the hospital. Your grandmother’s not well.”
“I’m coming,” the child shouted fiercely, jumped off the stool, and flew across the floor.
“Is it her heart?”
“She thinks so, yes,” Vanessa said, took hold of Helena’s hand, and ran with her to the cottage. “Get in the car, honey, and I’ll be out in a minute with Gran.” As she spoke, Vanessa helped Helena into the backseat and fastened the safety belt.
Inside the house, Vanessa grabbed her handbag from the hall closet, and dashed back
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to the kitchen; Dru was slumped in the chair with her arms still wrapped around herself.
Bending toward her, Vanessa asked, “Dru, do you feel any worse?”
“No. Just the same.”
“Can you make it to the car?”
“Yes, Vanessa. If you help me,” Dru murmured in a weak voice.
Together the two women walked slowly across the kitchen and outside to the car. “Try not to worry. You’re going to be all right,”
Vanessa said as she fastened the seat belt around Dru, praying that she would be.
And she kept on praying all the way to the hospital.
“Mrs. Fitzgerald has had a heart attack, fortunately not too severe,” Dr. Paula Matthews said, drawing Vanessa to one side of the waiting room. “She’s going to be all right, but she will have to watch herself, take care of herself.”
“Yes, I understand, Dr. Matthews, I’ll see that she does. In the meantime, how long does she have to be in the hospital?”
222 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
“A few days. Five at the most. She’s in our cardiac care unit, more for observation and a rest than anything else.” The doctor smiled at Vanessa, then glanced at Helena, who was sitting on a chair near the window. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful child,” she said. “You’re very lucky.”
“Yes,” Vanessa murmured, not knowing what else to say.
“Anyway, I know Mrs. Fitzgerald’s anxious to see you both, so let me take you to her room.”
A moment or two later Vanessa and Helena were sitting by the bed where Drucilla lay looking pale and weak. “I’m so sorry, Vanessa, to put you to all this trouble,” Dru said in a low voice. “What a nuisance I am.”
“Don’t be so silly,” Vanessa exclaimed.
“You’re not any trouble to me at all. And Helena and I are going to come and see you every day.”
Helena said, “And Vanessa says we’ll bring you things. Like books and magazines.” She smiled at her grandmother. “And flowers, Gran.”
“Thank you, darling,” Dru murmured.
“Please don’t worry about Helena,” Vanessa went on, taking hold of Drucilla’s
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hand, squeezing it. “She’s no trouble, we’ll be fine together.”
“But your work…” Dru began, looking worried.
“I can do my work and take care of Helena,”
Vanessa reassured her. “Just think about yourself and getting better.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Thanks are not necessary, Dru, you know that. And I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”
“Bill told me you were a loving woman, and he was right,” Dru said. She averted her face for a moment, blinking back tears. Then, turning to look at them both again, she forced a smile. “A hospital’s no place for you two. Go and have lunch, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“‘Half a pound of tuppeny rice, half a pound of treacle. Mix it up and make it nice. Pop goes the weasel!’” Vanessa sang, leading the child around the room in a circle, holding both her hands.
Helena laughed, much to Vanessa’s relief.
She had been in floods of tears all morning,
224 / Barbara Taylor Bradford suddenly reacting to her grandmother’s departure for the hospital the day before. Drucilla’s heart attack, coming so quickly after Bill’s death, had been too much for the little girl to handle.
Vanessa understood Helena’s concern for her grandmother, but she had not been able to stem her tears, or comfort her. At least not until now.
The little game they were playing seemed to have helped. It had brought a sparkle to the child’s eyes.
“What a funny song,” Helena said. “What’s a weasel?”
“A little furry animal with a bushy tail that lives in the woods.”
“How do you know this song?”
“When I was six, I was living in London for a while with my parents. I had a nanny who was English. She taught me the song.”
“Can you teach me?”
“Of course. Sing along with me, Helena. Here we go. ‘Half a pound of tuppeny rice, half a pound of treacle. Mix it up and make it nice.
Pop goes the weasel.’”
Helena sang with her, and they went round and round in circles, holding hands. After half a dozen times Helena knew the words, had committed them to memory.
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She laughed merrily and clapped her hands.
“I’ll sing it for Gran when we go to the hospital this afternoon.”
“What a good idea, Pumpkin.”
The smile slid off Helena’s face and she recoiled, gaping at Vanessa.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Don’t call me Pumpkin. Only Daddy calls me that. It’s his name,” she cried fiercely, and burst into tears.
Vanessa went to her, put her arms around her, held her close. “I’m sorry, Helena, I didn’t know. Don’t cry, honey. Please.”
But Helena could not stop sobbing, and she clutched Vanessa as if never to let her go.
Vanessa smoothed her hand down the child’s back, endeavoring to comfort her, to soothe her, making hushing noises.
After a while the sobs lessened, and Helena grew calmer. Vanessa led her across the studio to the sofa, lifted her up onto it, and sat down next to her. Taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table, she wiped Helena’s eyes, then drew her into the circle of her arms. “In a little while we’ll go into town and have a hamb
urger for lunch. How does that sound?”
“Can I have french fries?”
226 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
“Of course.”
“And an ice cream?”
Vanessa smiled at her. “Yes, if you want.”
Helena nodded; then she bit her lip, suddenly looking tearful again.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Is Gran…” Her bottom lip trembled and tears shimmered on her long lashes. “Is Gran going to die?”
“No, of course not! Don’t be silly!”
“People die of heart attacks, Vanessa. Jennifer’s grandmother did.”
“Who’s Jennifer?”
“My friend.”
“Well, your gran isn’t going to die, I promise you that.”
“But she’s in the hospital.”
“I know, and she’s getting better. I explained to you yesterday, the reason Gran is in the hospital until Friday is because she needs a rest.
That’s all. Her heart attack wasn’t a bad one, honey. Trust me, she’ll be all right.”
“They’re mending her heart at the hospital.”
“Yes,” Vanessa murmured, giving the child a reassuring smile.
“Gran’s heart is broken. It broke the other day. When the men came.”
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“Men?” Vanessa repeated, momentarily puzzled.
“Daddy’s men. From the network.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“They told her my daddy is dead and it broke her heart.”
“Yes, darling…”
Helena gave Vanessa a piercing look. “Is Daddy in Heaven?”
Vanessa swallowed. “Yes,” was all she could manage.
The child continued to look at her closely.
“With my mommy?”
“That’s right. They’re together now,” Vanessa said, striving hard for control.
“When is he coming back, Vanessa?”
“Well…well…you see…he won’t be able to come back, Helena. He’s going to stay with your mother…he’s going to look after her.”
Vanessa averted her face, brushed away the tears.
Helena seemed confused. She frowned hard.
“I want him to look after me.”
“I know, I know, but he can’t, honey, not right now. Gran’s going to look after you.”
“But what if she dies, too?”
“She won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do, Helena.”
228 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
“Why did the men kill my daddy?”
“Because they’re bad men, darling.”
Helena stared at Vanessa and started to weep again. “I want my daddy to come back. Make him come back, Vanessa.”
“Hush, hush, honey, don’t cry like this,”
Vanessa murmured, endeavoring to soothe her.
“I’m here. I’ll look after you.”
Helena pulled away, looked up into Vanessa’s face. “Can we live with you?”
For a moment Vanessa was taken aback, and then she replied, “We’ll have to talk to Gran about that.”
Helena nodded.
“By the way, where has Alice gone on vacation?” Vanessa continued, wanting to change the subject, distract Helena.
“To Minnesota. To see her mom and her brothers and sisters. Alice has a great-grandmother and she comes from Sweden.”
“Tell me some more about Alice.”
“Well, she takes me to school and picks me up from school, and she takes me to Central Park and she plays with me.”
Vanessa leaned back against the sofa, relieved that the six-year-old was now chattering normally, that she had managed to divert her.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
On Friday morning Drucilla Fitzgerald was released from Southampton Hospital.
Vanessa and Helena were there to pick her up and take her back to Bedelia Cottage on the dunes. After the three of them had lunch together, Vanessa sent Helena to draw and paint in the studio. She needed to be alone with Dru for a short while in order to talk to her.
“Helena’s a lovely little girl, she’s a real credit to you,” Vanessa said as she and Drucilla relaxed over a cup of herb tea in the sitting room. “We’ve become very good friends.”
Dru smiled and nodded. “I know. She told me, and she sang ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ for
232 / Barbara Taylor Bradford me. She enjoyed herself with you, Vanessa, and I’m so glad she wasn’t a problem.”
“No, not at all, Dru,” Vanessa began, and paused, then said, “But I think…” She shook her head. “I was going to say I think there’s a problem, but I don’t mean that at all.”
Dru was frowning, looking perplexed. “What are you getting at, Vanessa dear?”
“I remember that when I was little I worried about a lot of things. All children worry; Helena worries.”
“About my health, is that what you mean?”
“Yes. Children can easily feel insecure, and threatened, when a parent is sick or in the hospital. And I believe Helena feels very vulnerable.”
“Yes, I’m sure she does, but she’ll be all right, now that I’m out of the hospital. However, it’ll take her a long time to…get over her father’s death.” Drucilla choked up. It was a moment before she finished softly, “It’ll take us all a long time.”
“Yes, it will…” Vanessa’s voice trailed off as she stood, walked to the window, and gazed out at the sea. It was a deep blue on this mild afternoon in early May, streaked with sunlight and no longer bleak and uninviting. In her mind’s eye she saw Bill’s face; he was never out of her thoughts. She focused on his little
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daughter, and she knew exactly what she must say to Drucilla.
Turning swiftly, Vanessa came back to the sofa and sat down next to Bill’s mother. She gave her a thoughtful look, and said, “Before your heart attack, you told me you had no relatives, and I was wondering if you had ever appointed a legal guardian for Helena?”
Drucilla did not seem at all startled by this question, and she answered evenly, “No, I never have. We never have. It didn’t seem necessary.
But I know what you’re getting at, Vanessa.
You’re wondering what would become of Helena if I were to die. Isn’t that so?”
“Yes, it is. You’re a young woman, Dru, and this heart attack has been a…well, a sort of warning, I think. I know you’ll look after yourself from now on, and you’re not likely to die until she’s grown. But—”
“You’re only voicing what I was thinking as I lay in that hospital bed this week,” Dru cut in. “I’ve worried a lot about Helena, worried about her future. I’m sixty-two, as you know, and I aim to live for a long time. Still, you never know what might happen. Life is full of surprises and shocks…”
“Would you consider me? Could I become Helena’s legal guardian, Dru?”
234 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
“Oh, Vanessa, that’s lovely of you to volunteer, but would you want that kind of responsibility? I mean, what if I did die while she’s still little? Would you want to care for a child…you’re young, only twenty-seven, and one day you’re bound to meet someone else.
To be the guardian of another man’s child could be a burden…a stumbling block to a relationship.”
“I don’t see it that way, Dru, I really don’t.
If I were Helena’s legal guardian I would fulfill my obligations to her, no matter what the circumstances of my life. I realize you don’t know me very well, but I am sincere and very trust-worthy.”
“Oh, darling, I know that. Bill loved you so very much, and certainly I trust his judgment.
Besides, I’m a good judge of character myself, and the day I met you, at Christmas at Tavern On The Green, I knew the sort of person you are. I felt then that a weight had been lifted from my shoulders because I could see how changed Bill was because of you.
He was so happy. And I suddenly feel as if a weight has been lifted from me again.” Dru took hold of Vanessa’s hand and held it tightly; suddenly her eyes welled. She said, “I can think of no one I would like more to be Helena’s legal
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guardian. I know that with you she would always be safe.”
Vanessa’s eyes were also moist. “Thank you, Dru. As soon as you’re up to going to New York, I’d like to make an appointment with my lawyer. Or yours, whichever you prefer. We will set all this in motion. Is that all right with you?”
Dru nodded. “I hope to live to a ripe old age, but it’s good to know you’re there in the back-ground.”
“I’d like us to be together, Dru; I’d like to get to know Helena better, and you, too. I was wondering, would you consider spending the summers here with me?”
If Drucilla was startled she did not show it.
Without hesitation, she said, “I’d like that, Vanessa, I really would. And I know Helena will be happy. She loves it here.”
“Then it’s settled.” Vanessa leaned closer, kissing Dru on the cheek. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”
“Yes, what is that?”
“Frank called very early this morning. He’s come to New York…with Bill’s things…from his hotel room in Beirut. He wants to come and see us tomorrow. Is that all right?”
Drucilla found it hard to speak. She simply
236 / Barbara Taylor Bradford nodded her head and held Vanessa’s hand all that much tighter.
“He was my best friend, I loved him,” Frank said quietly, looking at Bill’s mother. “Every-body loved Bill. He was such a special man.”
“He’s dead and our lives will never be the same,” Dru murmured, her face ringed with sorrow. “But we must go on, and bravely so.
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