For the Love of Sara

by Anne Mather

  "Mr. Kingdom?" the doctor looked surprised. "I didn't know he was going to Germany."

  Rachel turned to look at him and then sighed. Of course, he thought she meant Joel Kingdom. "It doesn't matter," she said dully. Then she forced herself to an awareness of what this would mean to Sara. "And - and you say - it's successful? I - I can't believe it."

  "That's natural." The doctor smiled. "I can understand how you feel, but sometimes it's best that these things are done like that - on the spur of the moment, so to speak. Your little girl has been very lucky, Mrs. Gilmour. She's got every opportunity now to lead a normal life."

  "Yes."

  Rachel pressed her lips together. So it was done. And she could guess who was behind it. James Kingdom. Perhaps Joel had revealed his doubts to his father, perhaps James had been afraid that she, Rachel, might share them. And wasn't it also true that she had - deep down? Wasn't that half the frustration she had felt with Joel? Hadn't he voiced her fears she had had all along?

  But that was the past now. Sara had had the transplant. She was recovering. It was a success - the doctor had said so. Perhaps it would be all right, after all. And certainly now James would see that Joel had no opportunity to claim his daughter. Why then did the knowledge bring her no pleasure?

  During the next few days she half expected Joel to contact her. Surely he would know how she was feeling about Sara, might take compassion on her and come and tell her how Sara was really feeling - how she had reacted to this prolonged separation from her mother. But he did not appear, and when her first visitor was announced she was astounded to see Erica Grey. Dressed in a slim-fitting suit of soft black crepe, and carrying a sheaf of roses and carnations, Erica looked coolly elegant, entering the austere hospital room with the self- possession of a fashion model. Only Rachel felt that her black

  suit was an apt choice. Erica had the warmth of a hungry tarantula.

  "Hello, Rachel," she mouthed, for the nurse's benefit, laying the sheaf of flowers on the bed. "How are you?"

  "I'm recovering, thank you." Rachel dismissed the nurse, who had escorted the visitor, with a slight nod. "Why have you come, Erica?"

  Erica raised her dark eyebrows. "May I sit down?"

  "If you must."

  "I do." Erica seated herself comfortably, crossing one slender leg over the other. "Er - I should tell you, shouldn't I? Joel asked me to come."

  Rachel's nerves tightened. "Oh, yes?"

  "Yes." Erica smoothed her skirt with a gloved hand. "He - he hasn't the time - he's been working, you know. But he wanted you to know that we hadn't forgotten you - or Sara."

  "Sara?" Rachel couldn't prevent the automatic response.

  "Yes, Sara." Erica smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You know, of course, that she's had her operation?"

  "Of course."

  "Joel arranged it."

  "Joel!"

  "Why, yes. Didn't you know?"

  "No." Rachel plucked nervously at the coverlet. "I - have you seen her?"

  "Naturally. Joel sees her every day and I go with him whenever I can. Oh, dear..." She pressed a hand to her mouth as though she shouldn't have said what she had, but Rachel knew every word had been deliberate. "Joel - makes a special effort to see his daughter, of course. You - well, you're rather different, aren't you?"

  It took a great effort for Rachel to keep her voice steady, as she asked: "Why did you come here. Miss Grey? What is it you're trying to say to me?"

  "I've told you. Joel asked me to come."

  "Why? He knows I wouldn't care whether he came or not."

  "Ah, but is that true?" Erica's eyes were calculating. "You and I know better than that, don't we - Mrs. Gilmour?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "I think you do. You might be able to pretend to yourself that you don't care what happens to Joel, but you can't pretend to me! You see, you and I share the same disease, and I know the symptoms."

  Rachel took a deep breath. The strength she had would not stand this kind of verbal skirmishing for very long. "You're - mistaken, Miss Grey. I feel nothing for Joel but contempt. You're welcome to him."

  Erica put the tips of her fingers together. "And Sara?"

  "What about Sara?"

  "You want to keep her, don't you?"

  "Of course."

  "Then marry James Kingdom, Mrs. Gilmour. Before you lose her altogether."

  Rachel stared at her curiously. "Why should you care?"

  "Can't you guess? I don't care for children, Mrs. Gilmour. They're not my scene. The thought of caring for a child in sickness and in health does not appeal to me at all. However, if Joel is determined to adopt Sara ..." She tipped her head on one side. "Do you understand?"

  "But he won't - he can't."

  "I shouldn't be too sure of that. Things can change very rapidly in a child's life. It's obvious that she cares about Joel, and I don't have to tell you that he cares about her. Can you honestly compete when it comes to what both of you can do for the child?"

  Rachel bent her head. "There's no question of Joel adopting Sara. I'm going to marry James Kingdom just as soon as he's up and about again."

  "James? Up and about again?" Now it was Erica's turn to look confused. "What are you talking about?"

  Rachel pressed herself back against the pillows. A little niggling pain was beginning near her temples and she wished Erica would just go and leave her alone. It was all too much for her. She must have gone a shade paler because Erica sat up in her chair, and said: "Rachel? Rachel, are you all right?"

  When Rachel recovered consciousness, Sister Thomas was standing looking down at her. "Well, Mrs. Gilmour," she exclaimed, half reprovingly, as Rachel opened her eyes. "You do like giving us shocks, don't you?"

  "I'm sorry."

  Sister Thomas sighed impatiently. "I told Nurse Harper that Miss Grey wasn't to stay longer than five minutes." She shook her head. "How are you feeling?"

  Rachel put up a hand to her forehead. "Just - a little dizzy," she confessed.

  Sister Thomas clicked her tongue. "If I'd known Miss Grey was going to upset you like this, I shouldn't have allowed her to see you at all."

  Rachel struggled to look round. "Miss Grey? Wh-where is she?"

  "She left. I wasn't sorry. But she left you these." She held up the sheaf of roses and carnations. "I'll have Nurse Harper put them in water for you."

  "No!" Rachel spoke urgently. "No, don't do that, Sister. I - take them away. Give them to somebody else. Keep them, if you want to. I don't want them."

  Sister Thomas frowned suspiciously. "Mrs. Gilmour, I thought Miss Grey said she was a friend of yours?"

  Rachel shifted restlessly, as the dizziness receded, "she's an - acquaintance, that's all. Oh, please - just take the flowers away. I never want to see them again."

  During the next few days Rachel's physical condition improved at almost the same rate as her mental state deteriorated. She expected James daily to come and see her, knowing that as soon as he was discharged from the hospital he would appear. Casual questioning of the nurse who attended her had disclosed that the donor in a kidney transplant was generally able to leave hospital within two weeks of the operation. Rachel was desperate to see Sara, but his hospital - Lady Margaret's - was some distance from St. Matthew's, and she had to resign herself to the fact that they would not see one another until Sara was up and about again. But when she was capable of putting pen to paper, Rachel wrote to her daughter and received a note back again, obviously written by a nurse.

  "Dear Mummy" she read, "I was sorry to hear that you had been poorly, too, and I miss you terribly. But Joel has been to see me, and he told me that you were getting better. Mr. Kingdom has been to see me, too, but I..." Then what had been written had been scribbled over, but Rachel could still make out the words don't like him. She sighed, and continued: "... don't think he is as nice as Joel." Sara wouldn't! "Doctor Lorrimer says I shall soon be able to go out and when I can I will come and see you. Lots of love, Sara.
" Rachel felt the hot sting of tears behind her eyes as she re-read the letter. Had James said anything to Sara about their forthcoming marriage? Had he told her that without Rachel's accident, they might well have been married by now? Was that why Sara had said she didn't like him?

  Rachel pushed the letter back into its envelope. Well, if James had been to see Sara, it would not be long before he came to see her. And then ... The following afternoon Sister Thomas came into her room looking rather thoughtful. "You have another visitor, Mrs. Gilmour," she said reluctantly. "Mr. Kingdom. Do you want to see him?"

  "Oh! Oh, yes! That is - " Rachel put up a hand to her bandaged head. "Do - do I look an awful mess?"

  Sister Thomas gave her a reproving smile. "I gather Mr. Kingdom's opinion is important to you. I don't blame you. He's a very attractive man. Half my nurses made fools of themselves the last time he was here."

  Rachel's lips parted. "Wait!" This as Sister Thomas walked to the door. "Wait a minute!" She hesitated. "Sister Thomas, Mr. Kingdom - he - he's a young man?"

  Sister Thomas frowned. "Don't you know?"

  Rachel nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, of course. But there are two." She plucked at the bedcover. "Did - did he give his name? His Christian name?"

  "He didn't have to. I already know it. Joel Kingdom is not unknown in art appreciation circles."

  "Oh! Oh, I see." Rachel trembled. Then: "I don't want to see him, Sister. Please ask him to go away."

  "To go away, Mrs. Gilmour?" Sister Thomas was amazed. "But, Mrs. Gilmour, Mr. Kingdom was responsible for bringing you here, for providing you with the best attention possible. Mr. Frazer - " she mentioned the name of the surgeon who had operated on Rachel, " - Mr. Frazer is the foremost specialist in inter-cranium surgery. Mr. Kingdom arranged all this and then stayed in the hospital day and night until you came round from the operation! Don't you think you owe him something?"

  Rachel refused to look at her. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to see him."

  "But, Mrs. Gilmour - "

  Rachel looked up then, hectic colour splashing her cheeks, her eyes unnaturally bright. "Do I have to see him?" she demanded. "Is that a ruling here?"

  Sister Thomas sighed. "You know it's not." She shook her head. "Well, if you won't change your mind!"

  "I won't." Rachel watched the Sister move towards the door again. "I - Sister! Tell him - tell him I'm very grateful - for all he's done, but it's no use. We have nothing to say to one another."

  She half thought that Joel would not accept it, that he would be angry and come bursting into the room demanding to know what was going on. But he didn't, and contrarily she wanted to cry. Then she chided herself. What was the matter with her, for heaven's sake? Joel had made his position clear enough. James and Erica had made Joel's position clear enough. His determination was to take Sara away from her, and only James offered an alternative. An alternative she was already bound to take.

  Joel tried to see Rachel three times during the next week, but without success. Each time she turned him away, Rachel felt as if she was turning away a part of herself, and this knowledge filled her with despair. Since Erica's visit, she had determinedly tried not to think about Joel in any way except as the man who was trying to take Sara from her, but deep inside, the agony she suffered had little to do with the child. Every poignant tune on the radio, the stirring evidence of nature at work in the flower-strewn gardens beyond her windows, made her acutely aware of the emotions she was so futilely trying to deny. She should have had the sense to realise, she told herself fiercely, that an intimate association with the man she had loved desperately -the father of her child- would have disastrous consequences. She had never stopped loving him, that was the trouble, and she bitterly despised her foolishness. The sooner James married her and took her out of Joel's orbit, the better ...

  She was overwhelmingly relieved therefore when Sister 164

  Thomas announced a couple of days later that a Mr. James Kingdom would like to see her. Rachel was out of bed now, sitting in a chair by the window, reading, and she looked up eagerly, putting a nervous hand to her bandages.

  "I - I'll see him," she said, nodding. "Show him in."

  James looked amazingly unchanged. She had expected the operation to have had some effect on him, but it didn't appear to have made the slightest difference: He was just as tall and erect as ever, businesslike in his grey City suit. He came into her room slowly, appraising her slender figure in the soft blue dressing gown, fixing his eyes on her pale face.

  "Well, Rachel?" he said, shaking his head as he laid a bouquet of white roses across her knees. "What have you been doing to yourself?"

  He didn't attempt to kiss her, and she was glad, indicating the chair opposite hers, urging him to sit down. He did so and she looked down at the roses, glad of the diversion. "They're - they're beautiful!" she exclaimed.

  James regarded her curiously. "How are you, Rachel?"

  "Oh!" She looked up. "I'm - I'm fine. Much better. Mr. Frazer says I'll be able to go home in a few days."

  "Will you?" James sounded surprised. "And who will look after you?"

  Rachel flushed. "I'll manage."

  "Have you seen Sara?"

  "No. Not yet. But I expect I will soon." She paused, licking her lips. "James - James, I haven't thanked you yet..."

  "Thanked me?" He frowned.

  "Of course." She moved her shoulders awkwardly. "For - for going ahead with the operation, I mean. My being in hospital has delayed everything else, hasn't it? I - I'm sorry."

  James continued to regard her steadily for several dis- 165

  concerting minutes, and then he said: "You - haven't seen Joel."

  Rachel shook her head. "Not - not since - not since the night I had the operation. I - I understand he brought me here."

  "Yes. Yes, he did." James frowned. "What were you doing running down the stairs of his apartment building?"

  "Hasn't he told you?" Rachel uttered a short laugh. "No - no, of course, he hasn't, or you wouldn't be asking, would you? I - we - we had a row over - over Joel wanting to adopt Sara."

  "He still intends to do that."

  "I know, I know." Rachel pressed her lips together. "But - but you won't let that happen now, will you, James?" She twisted the stem of a long delicate bloom. "You - you promised me that..."

  She broke off and James seemed to mentally shake himself as he leaned forward and took one of her hands. "You mean you want us to get married as soon as possible?"

  Rachel nodded. "That was what we - what we arranged, wasn't it?"

  "Indeed." James took a deep breath. "Indeed it was."

  "I want to get it done and over with. I want Sara to have a proper home and parents. You can give her that, James."

  James got to his feet, pacing throughtfully about the room. "I suppose it's possible for us to be married here - in the hospital," he commented slowly. "It could be - arranged."

  "In the hospital?" Rachel put probing fingers to her lips. "Oh, but I look such a mess!"

  James' expression was wry. "I hardly see how that matters. If it's what you want..."

  Rachel tried to think coherently. Once she and James were married, there would be no turning back. It was a terrifying thought. But if she wanted to keep Sara...

  "All - all right," she agreed jerkily. "If - it you can arrange it."

  "Oh, I'll arrange it," asserted James, with a little of the arrogance she was used to from him. Really, he was being very understanding with her today. Not at all the way she had expected him to behave after going ahead with the operation.

  "You - you've seen Sara," she put in, trying to concentrate on the child and not on her own feelings. "How - how is she?"

  James studied her intently for several moments as though trying to gauge her motives for asking, and then answered: "She's very well. The transplant was a huge success."

  Rachel felt weak. "I'm so glad. Is she - when will she be able to come and see me?"

  James gave her another of tho
se austere looks. "Soon - soon." He hesitated. "I'll arrange for - Mrs. Talbot to stay at the flat and look after her."

  "Oh, will you? That would be thoughtful. At least she knows Mrs. Talbot. I can't wait to see her, though. It's been ... so long ..."

  "Yes." James came back to his chair and sat down again, studying her once more. "Rachel." He took her hand in his again. "Rachel, I want you to promise me something."

  "Yes?" She looked doubtfully at him.

  "Yes." He paused. "I want you to promise me that if Joel tries to see you, you'll continue to refuse to see him."

  "You - know - about that?" Rachel was confused.

  "Of course." James sounded impatient. "I've seen Joel, Rachel. Several times."

  "Of course," she echoed softly. "That was silly, wasn't it?" She looked up at him. "All right, if that's your decision."

  "It is. I don't want him - upsetting you. I think he's done enough, one way and the other."

  Rachel could have said "So do I", but she didn't.

  Nevertheless, the next two days were nerve-racking. At times she dreaded Joel appearing and confronting her with her intentions, and at others she found herself worrying in case Sara was going to be hurt by being forcibly separated from the man she had obviously grown to care for. Perhaps she, Rachel, was the selfish one, denying their daughter the right to choose. Was she so afraid that Sara might choose to stay with her father? Oughtn't she to be given that chance anyway? Rachel's obligation to James Kingdom was not consequent upon Sara's accompanying them to Greece. He had played his part and just because Rachel was now being called upon to play hers did not mean that Sara was bound to go with them. Wasn't she in fact using Sara to make her own life more bearable with a man she did not love?

  And then, on that second afternoon, she had another visitor.

  The previous day the doctor had removed the bandages from Rachel's head, and left only a heavy plaster to cover the wound he had inflicted. But her growing hair was still just a covering of silvery fluff on her scalp, and so they had provided her with a matching wig in a shoulder-length pageboy style. It looked all right, but Rachel was terribly self-conscious and hadn't yet summoned up enough courage to wear it. She thought she had looked more like herself with the bandages swathing her head.