He didn't go out with the others, afterwards. Instead, returning to the hospital, Beth's side, and they continued their reading.
Strong Poison
By Dorothy L. Sayers
Chapter One
There were crimson roses on the bench; they looked like splashes of blood.
The judge was an old man; so old, he seemed to have outlived time and change and death. His parrot-face and parrot-voice were dry, like his old, heavily-veined hands. His scarlet robes clashed harshly with the crimson of the roses...."
Sir Roger came in late the afternoon after the funeral, drew up a chair beside Andrew and began, "Joe and Corinne are going to be leaving in the morning. Do you think, if we arranged to have a dinner brought in to the waiting room, you would join us?"
"They're leaving?" Drew asked. He was sure he'd misunderstood somehow.
"Yes," Sir Roger answered. "They both have some minor health issues -- nothing for you or Elizabeth to worry about. But, the dampness of our English winter isn't helping any. San Diego suits them. And their doctors are there.
"There's been no change in Beth's condition. And, they can't stay here forever. So, they'd like to go home.
"They can always come back when Beth wakes up. But for now, they really want to go home. So, please, don't question their decision. They didn't make it capriciously.
"We’ve been discussing it for several days now. Joe has some medical tests scheduled. As I said, it's nothing life-threatening, but we all think that he should take care of things, before they become serious."
"Yes, I understand. And, yes, I will make a point about eating with you all. I think Beth would understand. Besides, I can always keep checking on her.
"That is, if you are having it here."
*****
Murder Must Advertise
By Dorothy L. Sayers
Chapter One
Death Comes to Pym's Publicity
"And by the way," said Mr. Hankin, arresting Miss Rossiter as she rose to go, "there's a new copy-writer coming in today."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Hankin."
"His name is Bredon. I can't tell you much about him; Mr. Pym engaged him himself; but you will see that he is looked after."
"He will have Mr. Dean's room."
"I should think Mr. Ingleby could take him in hand..."
*****
"Good news, Mr. Oliver."
Andrew looked over at the nurse, as she attended to Beth. "What? Why?" He jumped up and asked, "Is she waking up?"
"Not yet, but there is a definite change. I really believe there's something to all the reading you've been doing."
"Why?"
"Because, there's been the teeniest improvement each day you've been reading to her."
"That's wonderful--"
The little nurse cut him off, insisting, "Now, don't tell anyone I said this. Because there's nothing really scientific in it. Besides, I'm not supposed to talk to you all."
"I promise, I won't tell a soul." He opened the door for her, adding, "But, thank you."
He moved over to the bed and stared down at Beth, trying to discern any difference in his bride, but he didn't see anything. Unless, he thought, as he bent over her, her color did look a bit more normal.
He picked up the thirteenth, and last book, in the series and turned it to the first page. If reading was helping, then he would read. And, after reminding himself to call Sarah about bringing him another batch of books, he began:
Busman's Honeymoon
By Dorothy L. Sayers
PROTHALAMION
Marriages
Wimsey-Vane. On the 8th October, at St. Cross Church, Oxford, Peter Death Bredon Wimsey, second son of the late Gerald Mortimer Bredon Wimsey, 15th Duke of Denver, to Harriet Deborah Vane, only daughter of the late Henry Vane, M.D. of Great Pagford, Herts.
MIRABELLE, COUNTESS OF SEVERN AND THAMES, TO HONORIA LUCASTA, DOWAGER DUCHESS OF DENVER
'My dear Honoria,
So Peter is really married: I have ordered willow-wreaths for half my acquaintances. I understand that it is a deciduous tree; if nothing is available but bare rods, I shall distribute them all the same, for the better beating of breasts.
Honestly, as one frank old woman to the other, how do you feel about it? A cynic should have cause to be grateful, since to see your amorous sweet devil of a son wedded to an Oxford-Bloomsbury bluestocking should add considerably to the gaiety of the season...'
Chapter Fifteen
Beth felt very strange -- disjointed. As if she was no longer occupying her body. She was tired, even though she was sure she'd been sleeping for a very, very long time. Through so much of it, she dreamt of Andrew -- Andrew reading to her.
Somehow, she just couldn't open her eyes. Instead, she stayed quiet and listened to Drew reading the Lord Peter Wimsey books she enjoyed so much. She'd force herself to wake up later.
For now, she just wanted to listen to him read to her. There was something soothing about being read to. It made her feel cared for and safe.
*****
Andrew looked up as the door opened to find Sarah coming in with a canvas carry-all of books. He jumped up, offering her the easy chair, as he relieved her of her burden.
"Is there any change?" she asked.
Andrew could tell she didn't expect for there to be a change. He pulled the straight chair over to her, sat on it, and smiling, told her, "As a matter of fact, there is."
Sarah popped up and over to her aunt, as if she was trying to identify something different. "What's happened?"
"Her eyes lids are moving. Now, while they've done that every now and then, this is consistent. The doctor talked about REM sleep. They think she's coming out of it."
"Oh, Andrew," Sarah cried out as she crossed back to the chairs and hugged him.
"So, perhaps, we won't be needing these books. What are they anyway?"
"I found several volumes that have four or five Agatha Christie mysteries in each book. So, even though it only looks like four books, you have fifteen or twenty mysteries."
"Well, maybe we won't need them and you should just take these home."
"No, Drew, even if she was to wake up right now, she's been in that bed for nearly a month. I think she'll still be on very restricted duty for a couple days. But, I'll take my turn at reading to her, if it will help."
"I'll keep you to that offer."
"Did you read all the Lord Peter's?" she asked.
"Yes, in the order you'd written down. We're just about two-thirds through the last one."
"I think that's Aunt Beth's favorite. It was originally written as a play, and then changed into a novel."
"You know, I've never been much of a reader. Well, make that a book reader. But, I've enjoyed these books. I can see why your aunt likes them so much."
"Okay, I have an appointment, so I have to run. Call if you need some time off. Or, you just want to be read to, as well."
The young woman kissed Andrew's cheek, but as she was leaving the room, she knocked over the stack of books on the floor, and then bumped into the table when she went to pick them up. In the end, she made more noise than Andrew thought possible from a pile of books already on the floor.
"Sorry, Andrew. I'll check in with you later. Bye." And she was gone.
She didn't notice Beth's eyes pop open -- but Andrew did.
"Elizabeth!" he cried out. For one wonderful moment he was ecstatic.
Until the horrible reality came crashing down on him. She was awake. And now, he would have to tell her about their son.
Chapter Sixteen
"Drew..." she said in a low, hoarse voice. She struggled as she tried to sit up, but Andrew had rushed over to her, bent down and kissed her -- on her forehead, and both cheeks, before moving on to her lips.
She blinked a few times, trying to focus. Then she smiled at him and once again tried to sit up.
Andrew had grabbed the call button and pressed it. Then he'd used the bed control to move her up
into a more comfortable, sitting position.
She looked around her. The closet door stood open, revealing an assortment of Drew's clothes, there was a bed in the far corner of the room, and a pile of books surrounding the easy chair beside the hospital bed.
But, what she really noticed was how pale Andrew was. That, and how very quiet the room was. Something was wrong. She was sure now, something was wrong.
The trouble was, she just couldn't seem to think what it was.
The door opened and a nurse, closely followed by a doctor, entered. As she looked towards the door, she saw past them and caught sight of a woman in a wheel chair, clutching an infant and beaming.
Then the penny dropped.
Before she was able to ask anything, even utter a sound, the medicos fell upon her.
"We just need to give you a very quick check, my dear. Then you can see your family. I know they're all most anxious to see you, now that you're finally awake."
"But--"
"Hush," the doctor told her, as he listened to her heart. Then he looked over at the nurse said, "Give her the medication we spoke about. Then you can remove the catheter and IV.
"Andrew can accompany her to the bathroom, and we'll order some light food for her."
Andrew stepped out into the hallway, as the nurse did as she'd been instructed. She gave Beth an injection and then left. Elizabeth saw Andrew, along with Richard and her father, standing outside. As soon as the nurse was gone, they entered the room -- their faces an odd mixture of happiness and agony.
Elizabeth didn't even give her father or Richard a chance to greet her, before she blurted out, "Where's James? I want to see my baby."
"Bethy..." Richard began.
But she broke in before he could say anything else, "What's happened? Where is he?"
She looked pleadingly at Andrew, began shaking her head, and in a low voice, sobbed, "Please, Drew. Please."
Her father stepped closer to her, reached out and taking her hand, said, "Elizabeth, I'm sorry. We...we are all sorry, but James died. There were complications. There was nothing anyone could do."
She started shaking her head violently, tears rolled down her cheeks, as she cried, "No. No!"
The doctor looked at the men and said, "I've given her a mild sedative, which should be affecting her about now. So, she'll be calm enough for us to explain what happened to her."
Richard had moved very close to his sister and began again, "Bethy, I know there's nothing I can say. Nothing any of us can say to you to make it better. Just know that we all love you and are here for you."
"I want to see him."
Now Andrew pulled her up and over into his arms, stroked her hair, as he told her, "You can't see him, Beth. You don't understand. We buried him almost two weeks ago."
"You buried him..." she repeated, incredulously. "How could you...how could he...two weeks...I don't understand."
"Your placenta ripped away from your uterus. The baby depended on the placenta for air. He died very quickly -- before the paramedics arrived. You were hemorrhaging severely. We worked for hours and went through an unbelievable quantity of blood. In the end, we were forced to do a hysterectomy. It was the only way we managed to get the bleeding under control.
"Now, I know all this is distressing, but we're all relieved that you've come to again. You have been comatose for nearly a month. I've ordered you a light supper, and told Andrew he can help you to and from the bathroom. If you thought you were unsteady after we repaired your spleen, you're going be amazed at how weak you're going to be after a month in bed.
"I'm going make my rounds, but will be back later to check on you. Just try and accept what's happened." He nodded at Sir Roger and left.
"What about Mom and Dad? Are they here?"
"They were," her father told her. "They don't want you to worry, but they each have a few health issues. They had doctors' appointments scheduled. They were here for a little over two weeks.
"They knew, just as I did, that you were going to be all right. So, they decided to go back to San Diego and take care of things. They will come back when you're ready."
"But...I...I don't...understand. They left? They must be truly ill. Why won't you tell me about them?"
Andrew said, "Beth, they just had scheduled some test. And the cold wasn't doing either one of them much good. We can go see them if that's what you want. We all want to do whatever you want."
"Can I be alone for a while, please? I need some time to take all this in," Beth said. She knew she sounded cold and removed.
But she didn't care. Inside, her heart was breaking.
"Certainly, Elizabeth. We understand there's a lot for you to digest. So, we'll stay outside for a bit. And then, if you still aren't ready for us to spend some time with you, we'll go home.
"But, try and remember that there are many people who have been concerned over you, and will want to see you -- awake."
"All right, Father."
She watched as her father and Richard left. However, Andrew didn't move. She glowered at him and asked, "How could you bury my baby without letting me see him? How could you?"
"Beth, to be honest, I didn't even think of burying him. It was your mom. She said it wasn't fair to James -- that he deserved to be laid to rest. She made all the arrangements. The only thing I did was insist on them burying him."
She saw tears welling up in his eyes, heard the pain in his voice as he spoke, "I just couldn't allow him to be cremated. I know it's what we've spoken about -- but that was for us. He was a baby. He was just a baby," he repeated, his voice cracking from the pain of it.
"Yes," she said, staring at him. "He was only a baby. He was my baby. And I never got to hold him. I never even got to see him!"
"Beth, we didn't know when you'd wake up. You mom was very upset that we didn't bury him before we did."
"But, I never saw him. Did you even think to take a picture of him?"
From the look of horror that washed over his face, she knew the answer before he even managed to shake his head, and whisper, "No...I didn't...I didn't know what...I...I was so upset about you -- not coming out of the anesthetic. Your father and the Morgans insisted you weren't going to die.
"But that didn't help me. I...I don't know what I wanted. There were times when I thought it would be better if you just slipped away." He reached out for her hand, and hurried on, "Not that I wanted you to die. It was just I didn't want you to know...about... about James."
"I see..."
"Beth, don't be like this. You know I love you. It was because I love you so much I thought that -- just in passing."
"Andrew, maybe you should leave me alone for a while. Why don't you go talk to Father and Richard?"
"Please, Beth. Don't send me away. I've barely left this room for a month now. And, do you know why? Because I love you. And I promised I wouldn't leave you alone in a hospital."
She saw the pain in his face and she knew he did love her. And that if he had considered it might be better for her to die as well -- she understood it was to keep her from the pain she was experiencing now.
She was finding it difficult to think about what they'd told her.
They all loved her. And, of course, she loved them. They didn't do anything to purposefully hurt her. They'd been forced to deal with James' death, as well as worrying over her.
But, still...
Andrew started for the door, when he stopped and took an envelope from the dresser and handed it to her.
"It's from your mom. She left it for when you woke up. Then he slipped from the room, leaving her alone with her grief.
*****
Too stunned to cry, she ripped the envelope open, removed the note folded inside, and read it:
My Darling Girl,
There is nothing I can say to soothe you. There is nothing anyone can say or do to ease your pain. The awful truth is the ache you feel will never leave you -- not completely.
People may tell you that they 'kno
w how you feel' but they don't. Only someone who has lost a child can have a hope of knowing.
I've never told you this, but we lost a son about ten months before you were born. And your mother was there for me. She listened to my angry rants at God and the Universe. She held me as I cried. And, she wiped away my tears. I believe she even felt guilty when she discovered she was pregnant.
The point of my story is this -- as awful as you feel, you never know what joy God has in store for you. If I could have everything the way I wanted it, my son would be alive, as would your mother, and Cathy, and a hundred other things.
But after sorrow, comes joy. Your mother's death left me feeling as though my world was falling apart. I continued to grieve for our son, I had envied your mother's condition, and then she died. The guilt I felt was even worse then what I'd felt at our baby's death.
And then, we were blessed with you.
Everyone has been frantic, first with worry if you would live, and then from wondering when you would wake up. Please, no matter how much you'd like to roll up into a ball and be left alone, let them see you, hug you, and reassure themselves that you are all right.
It was me who insisted on burying James. Well, on having a funeral for him. We know that you have always said you wish to be cremated, but the idea of that was just too overwhelming for Andrew.
I'm sure you think it was wrong, but first, hear me out. James was gone, and your father and dad and I all felt uncomfortable at him not being put to rest. And all your family and friends' lives had come to a halt. Sarah missed a gallery opening, because she refused to go to New York. Justin missed a very important examination, and the twins weren't going to any of their college classes. Even Ruth and Bridget were not going to work for great stretches of time. James' funeral gave them all a certain sense of closure.
Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause Page 10
