by Derek Hansen
‘It seems our lunch is over before it has even begun. I must catch a taxi home and change.’
‘Nonsense!’ said Annemieke. ‘Come with me.’
She took him by the hand and led him into the Queen Victoria Building. She led him straight to a menswear boutique.
‘Could I borrow a needle and some cotton?’ she asked, and explained the problem. Eduardo was dispatched to a changing booth by the sympathetic staff, to wait while Annemieke sewed his buttons back on. Eduardo sat, head in his hands. He could not conceive of a more ignominious beginning. He was late, wet and humiliated. He was in no fit state to charm anyone, let alone someone as beautiful, intelligent, and as important to him as Annemieke.
She passed his trousers back through the curtain. He put them on, buttoned his jacket and, summoning the remnants of his dignity, stepped out. The staff applauded. He looked shyly at Annemieke, inviting comment, hoping she wouldn’t laugh. She rose up on her toes, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. Before he could react, she had moved a step back, but her hands still held his shoulders. She cocked her head on the side so that the expressive side faced him.
‘How am I going to explain to Jan and my brothers,’ she asked, ‘when they discover I had your trousers off on our very first date?’
Eduardo began to laugh and Annemieke joined in. He took her hands in his.
‘That’s exactly how I feel,’ he said. ‘Like a boy on my first date.’
She squeezed his hands. Eduardo was back on the rails, and further down the track than he’d ever hoped to be.
The change in Annemieke was remarkable. Quite simply, she blossomed. The discreet, conservative clothes, so much a part of her camouflage, gave way to bold fashion. Her tinkling laugh, once a rare treat, now rang through the house at the slightest provocation. She brought an exuberance to everything she did, and her carefully stage-managed poise and serenity were relaxed, at least around home.
Lita knew the source of her happiness. Indeed, she’d known from the very first, from the night of the rijstaffel. But she kept her knowledge from Jan and the boys. She understood that they must come to see what was plainly before their very eyes, in their own good time. Why is it, she wondered, that men are so blind about things so obvious?
It was months before Jan made the connection between Annemieke’s happiness and her Wednesday lunches with Eduardo. He’d thought Eduardo was being kind, the way an uncle might indulge a favourite neice. He finally twigged to the fact that Annemieke was having abnormally long conversations with Eduardo, before passing the phone on to him. He took his suspicions to Lita.
‘They remind me of us,’ Lita told him, ‘when we met at the Savoy Homann. I was eighteen, four years younger than Annemieke, and you were a man of thirty. It may be hard for you to accept, but your little darling has grown up, and she has made her choice. You are going to have to share your friend with Annemieke.’
‘I wonder if it is a good thing,’ he said. ‘I may have been thirty when I married you, but Eduardo is middle-aged. I think I will speak to him.’
‘Over my dead body.’
Jan turned to his wife. He knew he was beaten.
‘It’s not easy, you know, when your daughter runs off with your best friend. I wonder if it is possible for Eduardo to be both my friend and my son-in-law?’
Lita threw her arms around her big, unhappy bear.
‘Of course it is! Now you have Annemieke to think of, not yourself. When you see her, you give her a big hug. Just look at her, Jan. She is so much in love, and it has made her more beautiful than ever. Just look at her!’
Jan did as he was told. Lita was right.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Eduardo should have left well alone. He’d fallen in love with Annemieke and she with him, and her family had given their blessing. Already they openly discussed marriage, and they were planning a party to formalise their engagement. Eduardo should have been content, but when the opportunity came to make the grand gesture, he could not resist it. If he had, then this story would be of no consequence.
When he found a message from his doctor on the answer phone, asking him to call, he was mystified. He rang the surgery and made an appointment.
‘I’ve got some encouraging news,’ his doctor told him. ‘One of my student helpers has come up with this.’ He passed a medical journal across his desk.
‘It’s what we’ve been looking for. It seems a Dr Tannen in California has published a paper on some rather extraordinary and innovative neurosurgery techniques. His specialisation is restoring and reuniting nerves which have been severely damaged and scarred. His particular preoccupation is with the facial nerves. Ring any bells with you?’
Eduardo was stunned. The long shot had come home. For one of the few times in his life, he was speechless.
‘He claims a high success rate, but he also admits to being highly selective in accepting patients for surgery. Basically, this means there are those he can help, and those he can’t. Now, before we get our hopes up on behalf of your young lady, we’d better find out in which camp she belongs. And, Eduardo, put that paper down now, unless you’re prepared to spend more money than you can possibly imagine.’
Eduardo didn’t put the paper down.
‘What do I do next?’
‘If you like, I will write to Dr Tannen. No doubt he will want a full medical history, so you’ll have to clear that with the Royal North Shore Hospital. Then, if the description falls within the general ambit of his activities, he’ll want to examine her. Then, and only then, if he’s confident that your friend won’t spoil his averages, he’ll agree to operate. It’s still a long shot, Eduardo. If you intend to discuss this with her, you’ll be well advised to moderate your enthusiasm.’
‘Good God, man! How am I supposed to do that? This is fantastic news.’
Eduardo was elated. He had already decided that this would be the ultimate engagement present. He would be the one to bring back the full glory of her beauty, the full radiance of her smile. She would adore him for it. The whole family would adore him. Already he basked in the glory. He did not consider for one second that she might not be eligible for surgery, or that the surgery might not be a success.
That night he took Annemieke to a little French restaurant near Crows Nest. He was excited and Annemieke tried to guess the reason.
‘You’re going to propose to me,’ she said. ‘On your knees in front of everybody.’
‘No,’ he said, ‘but I will if you like.’
He kept her guessing all through the meal until she threatened to strangle him.
‘Annemieke,’ he began, ‘months ago, when we first met, I went to see a doctor friend of mine. I told him about you and asked if he knew of anything that could give you back the missing part of your smile.’
He told her how the doctor put students onto the job of researching medical journals. As he spoke, he noticed Annemieke grow more and more tense with anticipation. She knew where he was leading, and couldn’t wait for him to get there. But years of disappointment had taught her caution. Only now did he understand his doctor’s words of advice, but already he’d gone too far. She clearly believed he was capable of miracles, even this most precious of miracles.
He told her about the doctor’s unexpected call, and he told her about Dr Tannen and his new techniques. She wanted more, but he’d realised too late the trap he’d set for himself.
‘My doctor believes you are precisely the sort of case Dr Tannen specialises in,’ he lied. But for the table between them, she would have thrown her arms around the man she loved, and sobbed for joy.
‘Oh, Eduardo,’ she said. ‘Please tell me I’m not dreaming. Please tell me this is happening.’ She gripped his hands fiercely and tears began to flow.
For once, Eduardo had brought his car, and they drove down to Balmoral Beach. They sat on the sand watching the waves while Annemieke got over her initial excitement.
‘Don’t tell Jan or Lita yet,’ cautio
ned Eduardo. Somehow he had to lower her expectations. ‘First we must get the Royal North Shore Hospital to release your medical history to Dr Tannen, to confirm your suitability.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, suddenly aware of the implications.
‘It is the procedure. It is boring and it is slow.’ Eduardo could see the disappointment in Annemieke’s eyes. She’d been let down before and now it was happening again. No! He decided to commit to the lie.
‘My doctor says it is a formality, but it is the way things are done. We send over your records, then Dr Tannen invites us over to his clinic for an examination. That is how it works. Don’t worry. You have suffered too much to ever be disappointed again. This time we will really have something to smile about. Not half a smile, Annemieke. But a big smile, from ear to ear. So big that the top of your head nearly falls off. Imagine that, Annemieke.’
And Annemieke did. Eduardo’s confidence was infectious. She wanted so badly to believe. And so did Eduardo.
Over the next weeks he hounded his doctor’s staff for a response. At first they were understanding, then irritated by his persistence. They finally convinced him that they would call the instant they had any news, be it day or night. Eduardo was in a meeting with clients when his doctor rang. His clients couldn’t help but smile when the smooth, cultured Argentinian suddenly whooped and hollered like a cowboy gone mad. He poured everybody a glass of champagne and abandoned the meeting. What was the point of going on? They’d get no more sense out of him that day.
‘Pack your bags, Annemieke,’ he said.
‘What!’ The joy and relief in her voice overwhelmed him, the volume near deafened him. He pulled the phone away from his ear.
‘California here we come.’
He still urged her not tell her family. He’d seen what the prospect of disappointment could do to Annemieke, and he wanted to spare Jan and Lita. The last few weeks had been agony for him, as they must also have been for Annemieke. He cursed himself for not heeding his doctor’s advice. He berated himself for his impatience. He wondered if he’d ever learn.
‘We’ll tell them we’re going on holiday to Los Angeles,’ he said. ‘To Disneyland. There is a possibility that Dr Tannen will decide against operating. I’m sure that won’t happen, but it’s a possibility we must face. If that happens, only two people will be hurt. Just you and I.’
‘No,’ said Annemieke. ‘They are as much a part of this as I am.’
‘Then let me tell them with you. I will come over tonight after dinner.’
Jan and Lita were stunned. It took a while for them to grasp what they were hearing. New techniques? New procedures? Lasers? California? They looked at Eduardo. Was there anything this man could not do?
Jan and Lita hugged them both and, not knowing what else to do, hugged each other.
‘I pray to God your trip is successful,’ Jan said. ‘Yes, to God. If this miracle works, I swear I will become a believer.’ He turned to Eduardo and hugged his friend once more.
‘Eduardo, I don’t know what to say. I gave up. You didn’t.’ His voice was near breaking.
‘Open some wine,’ Eduardo said. ‘Let’s celebrate. I simply took over the baton, Jan. It was time you let someone else carry it for a while.’
‘It is Eduardo’s engagement present to me,’ said Annemieke. ‘Isn’t it the most wonderful present any woman ever had?’
The direct flight to Los Angeles takes a little over thirteen hours by 747 SP. Eduardo and Annemieke went straight from the airport to the hotel which had been recommended by the Feldman Clinic. It was small and elegant, and so expensive Eduardo wondered if it was not also owned by the Feldman Clinic. His suspicions grew stronger when he realised most of the guests were either patients or relatives of patients. Still, it was very comfortable, and virtually next door.
Annemieke’s excitement on arriving in the United States for the first time in her life was overshadowed by her reason for being there. It was still early afternoon, and both of them wanted to lay down and sleep. But Eduardo insisted that they would be better off if they could stay awake, at least until evening. He knew the importance of adjusting to local time as quickly as possible.
Their appointment at the clinic was for ten the following morning. Eduardo didn’t want Annemieke lying awake worrying all through the small hours. He suggested they go to Rodeo Drive but Annemieke wanted to leave that till last. Instead, they spent the afternoon around the hotel pool, playing at being tourists, but unable to shake their growing anxiety.
‘I can’t stand the wait,’ Annemieke said in a way that reminded Eduardo of just how young she was. ‘What will we do if they decide they can’t do anything for me?’
‘What do you want to do?’
‘Go home.’
‘Let’s just see what tomorrow brings,’ Eduardo said gently. ‘We’ve come too far to be beaten now. We both know everything will work out fine. You know that. I know that.’
But of course neither of them did. Eduardo took her hand and led her back to her room. She was so tired he thought she might burst into tears. He made her take two mogadons.
‘Ring me when you wake up,’ he said ‘It doesn’t matter what the time is. Promise you’ll ring me?’
‘I promise.’
Tiredness and the mogadons overcame her anxieties and she slipped into dreamless sleep.
Chapter Thirty-eight
The Feldman Clinic encapsulated everything Eduardo disliked about America. The bland smiles, bland courtesies and endless platitudes got on his nerves. But Annemieke seemed not to mind. She’d withdrawn to her most serene, aloof and distant. She barely looked at Eduardo as she was escorted into the surgery.
The preliminary examination was inconclusive. Two neurosurgeons examined her, comparing their findings with the reports from the Royal North Shore Hospital. One thought Annemieke would benefit from surgery, but wasn’t sure to what extent. The other disagreed. He could see no point in going on. They asked Annemieke to return the following day when Dr Tannen would conduct a third examination. His decision would be final, they said. They apologised for the delay and inconvenience.
Annemieke was devastated. She didn’t know how she’d get through the next twenty-four hours. She just wanted to return to the hotel and cry. Instead, Eduardo bundled her into a cab, and took her to Disneyland. It was precisely the distraction she needed, and they didn’t return to their hotel until one in the morning.
Dr Tannen turned out to be a small man with big eyes, a sad face and very little conversation. He examined Annemieke and referred to his notes. He examined her again and again, reclining and rotating her chair with his little remote control. Unexpectedly, he took her hand and she glimpsed the kind man behind the professional demeanour.
‘You poor young lady,’ he said. ‘What you have been through.’
He patted her hand. Annemieke’s heart sank. He sat down at his table, now seemingly oblivious to Annemieke’s presence. He gazed into space, his mind reviewing data that only he could see. He stood and looked at Annemieke with his big, sad eyes. He pressed the intercom.
‘Please send in Mr Gallegos.’
Eduardo was ushered in. He saw instantly the look of defeat in Annemieke’s eyes. He wanted to rush over to her and comfort her. Instead, he shook hands with Dr Tannen and calmly exchanged formalities. Only then did he pull up a seat alongside Annemieke, and take her hand.
‘The injuries happened too long ago,’ Dr Tannen began. ‘Perhaps if you had come to us sooner, we could be more optimistic. The nerve ends will be very tangled, you better believe, and buried beneath scar tissue. Full mobility is no longer possible. I rate my chances of restoring partial mobility at less than fifty percent. I am sorry. On this basis I cannot recommend surgery.’
‘Just do your best.’ Annemieke’s face was contorted by her effort to retain control of herself. There was no doubting her determination.
‘Young lady, I wish I could offer you more hope. But our techniques are
still in their infancy. We are learning all the time.’
‘You say you wish you could offer more hope. There is some hope, then?’
The doctor turned to Eduardo.
‘I never said there was no hope. Yes, there is reason to hope. But not enough to justify surgery in my opinion.’
‘Doctor, Annemieke has lived too long with no hope. We gladly accept the risks and the expense where there is some hope. Even a glimmer.’
‘That is your decision?’
‘Yes, Doctor.’
‘Then I am glad. To be truthful, I do not feel as pessimistic as I sound. When I look inside, things are not always as hopeless as they appear on the outside.’ He walked over to Annemieke’s side and placed his hands either side of her head. He tilted it one way and then the other, as if assessing the job ahead.
‘Yes, young lady, I can promise you some improvement. Just how much, well … that remains to be seen. But, since you have asked me, I will do my best. You better believe. I will do my very best.’
Annemieke went into surgery five days later, having spent the intervening time at Disneyland seeking total distraction. She loved Space Mountain and the Matterhorn. She loved the animatronic bears. Each night she stayed up late to watch the grand parade down Main Street. She let her hair down, which is to say, she pulled it back for the first time in public since her accident. She no longer cared if people stared. She didn’t give a damn what they thought. She shut them out of her mind. What they saw now would soon no longer exist. She went from one ride to the next, with a determination to do them all as many times as possible. She ignored all of Eduardo’s attempts to discuss the operation. He indulged her, and put her to bed at night, so late and so worn out, mogadons were never a consideration. Annemieke was totally unprepared for failure.
Eduardo could do nothing but wait. He wasn’t alone, though he may as well have been. Like him, the relatives of other trauma victims were not disposed to share their anxieties, and the encouraging smiles induced by occasional eye contact soon lost their currency.
