by Anne Styles
'Went on holiday, I think,' he said vaguely, when Madeleine finally got hold of him. 'I'll ring his mother for you, though, Madeleine. She ought to know he's ill at least.'
'Thank you, Charles.' Madeleine sighed with relief. 'And you will let us know the moment you can locate Sarah, won't you? He really is terribly ill. She should be here.'
'Of course I will,' Charles said. 'Don't worry, Madeleine.'
CHAPTER 24
Charles put the phone down and gave a sigh of pleasure. With any luck, he thought viciously. Nick would die.
What wonderful things unknown viruses were! Then he paused. How long would it be before they all realized Sarah was living at Hastings Court? Sooner or later someone in London would catch on. Oscar or George might let the cat out of the bag, though with the excuse of not letting the Press find out they had been sworn to secrecy. It was time to act, and act quickly.
It was quite casually that evening that he suggested to Sarah that they take a week or two for a holiday. 'Rupert has a villa in Provence,' he said as they lingered over dinner. 'Why don't we go there? It's lovely this time of year, just before the season really gets started.'
'It's hardly wise, Charles.' Sarah was doubtful. 'I'm over seven months pregnant. I could have problems, and then what would we do?'
'There are doctors in France - very good ones - and we'd only be a few hours' flying time from London if we needed to come back. I do own an airline, darling, remember?'
'Well, in that case . . .' She gave in. It was easier than arguing, and it wasn't as if she had anything better to do.
France would be quite a treat, and warm too.
'We'll go tomorrow,' Charles decided. 'I'll make sure everything is tidy here and we'll leave about midday. It'll be just what you need. We can even stop off in Paris for a few days. You can do some shopping.'
'Hardly!' Sarah laughed. 'I'm beginning to feel like a beached whale! I don't think it would be much fun!'
'You look absolutely wonderful!' Charles leant over and dropped a kiss on her forehead. 'All you need is a tan.'
* * *
For days Nick was deeply unconscious as the doctors performed test after test to try and determine which virus had attacked his visibly weakening body, trying several different antibiotics in the effort to find the right one.
Madeleine had never been a religious person, but now she prayed desperately hard as she and Miriam sat together hour after hour watching the machines keep him alive in the Intensive Care unit. A deep bond began to form between the two women, who had been almost strangers until they had been thrown together in their joint worry over Nick.
Seth was mystified over not being able to contact Sarah, having badgered Jane constantly for news. That even Seth Waterston couldn't find her made Madeleine very suspicious that all was not well. 'It's as if she doesn't want to be found,' she said to Miriam as they took a short break and walked the short distance to a nearby diner.
'It doesn't seem possible anything could be wrong with those two, they're so much in love with each other,' Miriam puzzled. 'Nick would never have gone ahead with buying Joe's place if they were splitting - it's hardly a cheap bachelor's pad, after all!'
'I agree it doesn't make sense. All Nick talked about was Sarah coming out to LA the minute he got back.' Five minutes later Seth joined them, a small padded envelope in his hand.
'This just came in from Brazil,' he told them. 'It was sent out to Nick on the last mail-run and has obviously been returned as he's here. If I'm not mistaken, it's from Sarah.' Both women stared at the package. Neither of them wanted to open it and intrude on Nick's private affairs.
'We'll hang on,' Miriam decided at last.
'Well, keep it with you, hon,' Seth told her. 'I have to get back. I just didn't want to trust it to a messenger.' Madeleine stared at it for long minutes after Seth had gone.
'Maybe we should open it,' she said at last. 'It really is all we have to go on.' They hated doing it, but both were acutely aware that Nick might never know what they were doing. However, once it was opened, they both wished they hadn't done it.
'We can't tell him!' Madeleine moaned, turning the beautiful ring over in her fingers. 'If the virus doesn't kill him, this will!'
'Wait and see what happens,' Miriam advised. 'I'm certain Seth will find her fairly soon. She loves him. I'm sure it must be a misunderstanding. There's no other woman in Nick's life - that I know. I wonder what photograph she's referring to?'
'I can't imagine either.' Madeleine was puzzled. 'I've worked with Nick almost constantly since Sarah went back to England - there's been no one.'
'Maybe it's you she's referring to?' Miriam wondered.
'Me? Don't be silly, Miriam!' Madeleine was horrified. 'How could she think that? I work for him. Yes, I adore him - most women do - but that's a one-woman guy if ever there was one. I'd be on a hiding to nothing trying for him! Now Mark Winford, that's another story!' She had met the singing star the previous evening at the Waterstons, when Seth had insisted he take her back for a break.
'Well, honey, Mark certainly noticed you, so there's nothing wrong with you,' Miriam comforted her.
'Well, that I will certainly bear in mind! But I can't think of anything but Nick at the moment. Oh, Miriam, he is going to get better, isn't he?'
'If there's a God, honey - yes! We can only hope that right now He's looking out for him!'
* * *
It was rather like floating in a sea of cotton wool. Some-times he was aware of light. . . sharp, piercing light. . . other times it was voices . . .light, feminine voices. Sarah, his mind said . . .
Sarah, his voice wanted to say. But no sound came from his cracked, dry lips. Something blocked it. He wanted to open his eyes... to see Sarah. . . but they were too heavy. However hard he tried, nothing would happen.
Sometimes she was so near he could feel her . . . smell the warm scent of her. Often the drifting breath of the Chanel she wore brought him briefly up through the clouds of vapour that surrounded him . . . hampered his breathing . . . held him down. There were restrictions on his body, as if he couldn't move . . . something held him down. Ropes and ties . . .
He wanted to scream - let me loose - yet nothing happened. No one was listening.
It was almost midnight one night when he finally opened dazed blue eyes to stare uncomprehendingly at the tangle of wires and tubes around him. Still no sound would come as he tried to speak, and he gagged slightly on the tube in his mouth.
'Nick! Oh, Nick ... at last!' He heard the relief in a female voice but it wasn't Sarah. Tiredly, he focused briefly on Miriam's face and wondered why she was in Brazil. He could hear her calling out, but nothing she said made any sense. Suddenly there were more people around him, noises and more voices. He was confused and woolly as faces blurred into his vision.
He was uncomfortable, flat on his back, he realized then, a position he had always hated, and he tried to move and couldn't, discovering the forest of wires that led to the monitors attached to every part of him, it seemed. The light about him was bright, too bright suddenly. One restless movement brought Miriam's hand into his, squeezing his fingers to calm him, and he clung to it, the one point of contact with reality in the confusion.
'Where . . .?' he managed, choking it out around the tube. A mammoth effort, but he had to know.
'You're in LA, darling.' Miriam leant over him. 'In the Cedars. Safe, I promise.'
'Sarah?' It was a difficult word to say, but he had to make Miriam understand what he wanted.
'Hush, honey, she'll be here soon.' Was Miriam crying? he wondered drowsily, but her words reassured him. A few seconds later he could feel the cotton wool over-whelming him again, but it was lighter this time - next time, he told himself he would wake up and Sarah would be there.
Miriam continued to hold his hand as the nurses and doctors checked the monitors and smiled at her. Things were definitely improving. Relieved, she finally left the room and went to phone Seth, weeping unashame
dly as she relayed the news to him and then to an equally weeping Madeleine.
The next time Nick woke, it was for longer, and after that he was awake for more than an hour before the weakness overwhelmed him again.
Aware now of his situation. Nick began to fight, needing to be free of the tubes that nurtured and fed him and anchored him to the machines. He began to fiercely resent the ministrations of the patient nurses and loathed the utter humiliation of having absolutely everything done for him. When finally he could talk, he cursed fluently, and Miriam laughed happily.
'You, my darling Nicholas, sound almost normal!' she scolded him as the tears ran down her face, cascading mascara over her plump cheeks. 'And for once I'm just so glad to hear you swear!'
'Get me - out of here - Miriam!' he demanded.
'Patience, Nicholas!' she said. 'They'll let you out soon enough.' He was restless and demanding now. As his health improved enough for him to be moved from the High Dependency unit to a room of his own his temper grew worse. He fought the sedation deemed necessary for the rest he needed, begged Seth and Miriam to get him out of the hospital, and constantly asked for Sarah.
When he was finally allowed out of bed he was appalled to discover just how frail he was. He could barely manage three steps before his legs simply gave out under him and he had to suffer the indignity of being lifted into a chair. Even then he could only cope with a very short time sitting up, before having to ask to return to bed again. 'I have to get out of here,' he begged Miriam continually, worrying about the film, - about Sarah - about everything but his own health.
'All in good time,' Miriam said, so frequently he wanted to kill her. 'The film is just fine. Seth has sent Madeleine back out to help Bud, and you'll be allowed out of here as soon as you are well enough. Believe me - they can't wait to get rid of you, you bad-tempered creature!'
'I can't bear it, Miriam!' he complained. 'I'm never ill.'
'That's obvious! Nick, you have to be patient. For heaven's sake, you can't even keep solid food down!'
'I did this morning! I'm better, I tell you!' he contradicted her. 'Which reminds me, Miriam. Why can't I have a telephone? I want to call Sarah - where is she? Do you know?'
'No telephone!' Miriam was firm. 'You'll never be off it, and your throat is not up to it - not yet. And Sarah is on location somewhere,' she lied. 'We are trying to find her, I promise.'
'Oscar will know,' Nick said. 'Ring him.' Miriam had already tried that avenue, but Oscar, programmed by Charles, had denied all knowledge of Sarah's whereabouts. 'He doesn't. But don't worry, Nick, we'll find her.'
It was another fretful and painful week for everyone before he was allowed out of the hospital and into Miriam's care. Kitten-weak, and lighter by almost a stone, nevertheless he was desperate to get back to normal life -and now he had access to a telephone. Finally Miriam knew she had to give him Sarah's letter. Predictably, Nick's reaction was enough to frighten her into calling her own doctor for help.
His grief was terrifying in its intensity. Endlessly he railed against the improbability of her rejection, until Miriam feared for his mental stability and the doctor agreed with her, immediately prescribing a sedative. At first Nick welcomed the oblivion sedation offered - a blissful release from the agony he was struggling with. In normal times he could have coped, but, weakened as he was, he simply collapsed. He woke every time to the anguish of his loss and it didn't get any easier to bear as tune went on. Disorientated by his illness, he had no physical resources to cope with the stress generated by his loss.
'It's not true!' he wept in Miriam's motherly arms. 'I love her, Miriam - only her. How can she think other- wise?' For several days after he began to refuse sedation he stayed in his room, unwilling to face anyone but Miriam.
Overwhelmed by his grief, he ate little and threw up what pitiful amount she did manage to get him to eat. Miriam was frantic, knowing that every day Nick didn't eat his fragile health was suffering even more. She pleaded with Seth to try again to find Sarah, but even with his formidable resources he drew a blank, foiled by the careful plans Charles had made.
In the end. Nick made his own decision. 'I'm going to back to England,' he announced. 'Tomorrow. I must find her. I have to know why, Miriam.'
'Nick, you can't!' Miriam pleaded. 'For heaven's sake, you haven't spent a full day out of bed yet! How could you contemplate a ten-hour flight to London and then driving all over England?'
'I'll sleep on the plane, and Bill can meet me at Heathrow,' Nick said. 'He can drive me anywhere I want to go if it's necessary.'
'Absolutely no way!' Miriam strode about the room and then finally turned to face him, recognizing at last that he was determined, as only Nick could be, and that there was no dissuading him from his purpose. 'Honey, if you really must go then go in Seth's jet. It will take slightly longer but I'll come too, and then we'll have a week or two at Cap Ferrat. That will certainly do you good.' 'The only thing that would do me good is to get Sarah back,' Nick said grimly. 'And I will, believe me! I love her to distraction -1 won't give up! I gave up on Natasha and I lived to regret it. I won't let it happen again. Charles is at the bottom of this - I'm sure of it. She couldn't just disappear so thoroughly without help, and he certainly has the resources.'
'Charles has no idea where she is,' Miriam said. 'I've spoken to him several times.'
'Nevertheless, I'll tackle him first! I know exactly how devious he can be! He's not getting the better of me this time!' Nick was adamant.
He was slightly less sure the next day, when fatigue overwhelmed him within hours of setting off, and he was grateful for the care Miriam unfailingly provided. He slept through the refuelling stops, in the cabin set aside for that purpose which in the past he had scorned, but he emerged on landing in London with new resolve.
'I'm fine,' he asserted as they were driven to Regent's Park. 'Tomorrow I'll drive myself. I have to go alone, and deal with things my own way. I won't let you stop me. I promise to be careful and I'll keep in touch with you as many times a day as you dictate, my darling jailer! You can go off to Nice in the morning and I'll join you in a few days. I need to spend a little time with Charlotte too; she'll be wondering what's happened to me.' He knew Miriam had his best interests at heart, and despite his belligerence he respected her for it. In the last few weeks her loving care had brought her far closer to him than his own mother had ever been. Apart from a couple of phone calls his mother had seemed almost uninterested in him, he decided bitterly. But in some ways it was a relief to be on his own again, making his own decisions without having to ask anyone else's opinion. It was good to be back behind the wheel of his Porsche, feeling the challenge that the power of its engine presented him with - and he responded to it, feeling some energy flowing back at last.
It was a beautiful June morning and he was a great deal more cheerful as he drove through the gates of Charlotte's school in Ascot. A call the previous evening had persuaded her headmistress to let him take her out for lunch, and Charlotte threw herself at her father, delighted at the surprise of being allowed out of school midweek.
'But Mummy never said you'd been really ill!' she protested as she finally released him from her bear hug. 'You look awful, Daddy!'
'Well, thanks for the welcome!' Nick laughed. 'But at least Seth kept it out of the papers.' 'There was never a word - I'd have been out to LA like a shot if I'd known.'
'I think your mother might have vetoed that,' he commented wryly.
'She wouldn't have been able to stop me! I'd have borrowed the fare from Uncle Seth if I'd had to! Daddy, are you two really going to get a divorce?'
'I'm afraid so.' Nick hated the look of pain in her eyes. 'I know it won't be easy for you, but I'm sure that in the end things will be much better for your mother. Things are hopeless as they are, it's no life for either of us, and it's gone on far longer than it should have done.'
'She wouldn't agree with you there,' Charlotte said. 'And Granny and Grandpa have forbidden her to even
discuss divorce with you. They say she'll be in eternal damnation if she allows it!'
'What rubbish are they trying now?' Nick was furious. 'I've never heard such crap!' He thumped the steering wheel in frustration. 'Well, it won't make any difference, I'm afraid. I've put up with enough from them! God! I wish Diana could stand up for herself for once, instead of letting her parents rule her with their bigoted views! She's an incredibly intelligent adult - not a child! Oh, I'm sorry, darling! I shouldn't say all this to you. Forget it!'
'No, Daddy, I won't forget it!' Charlotte clicked her seat belt into place. 'I don't want you to divorce! It's just. . . well. Mummy says that if she lets you have a divorce you'll leave her and me without any money, and I'll have to leave my school and go to the local comprehensive, and it really is dreadful!'
'Charlotte! That's absolute rubbish! And your mother knows it!' Nick could hardly believe what he was hearing. 'For one thing, the courts would never allow it, and for another wouldn't allow it! No way!' He thought with some amazement of the huge capital sum he had already offered and that Diana had summarily turned down. 'I would never leave your mother without money, and you have a substantial trust fund of your own anyway. You mean the world to me, Lotte, don't you ever forget that.'
'More than Madeleine Miller?'
'What on earth has Madeleine got to do with it?' he asked, puzzled.
'Mummy says you want a divorce so that you can marry Madeleine. It was even in the papers a while back.'
'Well, I don't! Let's get that quite straight!' The mists were beginning to clear considerably. If Diana thought that, why shouldn't Sarah? 'I'm very fond of Madeleine, and she probably saved my life when I was ill, but, no -I don't think of her in any other way, I assure you.' He wondered whether to tell her about Sarah, and his real purpose in coming back to England, and then realized that maybe there wasn't going to be a Sarah. Charlotte needed his reassurance, despite her seemingly calm acceptance of her parent's problems, not more to worry over.
