by Jane Asher
‘Let me go with the baby,’ he begged. ‘Please let me go with him. Let me do this for her; I can’t let him die. She didn’t mean that to happen – I know she didn’t.’
‘I can’t see why not, sir. But hurry.’
Michael sat in the ambulance watching little Harry’s struggle for survival in almost unbearable tension. Still in shock from the discovery of his dead wife, he felt as if he would be unable to cope if the baby should die in front of him, and that he would implode in a black hole of human misery. It was as if somehow his presence, the projection of all his energy, thought and hope, was an essential part of Harry’s life force: as if the focus of his will was holding the small being suspended above a chasm of darkness, and that if Michael lessened his concentration for even a second, Harry would fall.
By the time they reached the hospital he was exhausted. As the ambulance drew up outside the entrance one of the men put a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. ‘It’s all right, sir. He’s going to be fine now. We’ve got him stable. Take it easy; you’ve had a severe shock. Just try to relax now.’
Michael followed the small stretcher out of the ambulance into the hospital and along the corridor towards Intensive Care. A sudden scream ahead stopped him short. As in slow motion, he saw the pale girl with the jet black hair running towards them, arms outstretched, mouth open.
‘HARRY! OH MY HARRY! HE’S ALIVE! MY BABY’S ALIVE!’
Michael almost doubled up with the intense pain that he suddenly felt in his chest. As if he’d thrust a hand into boiling water and found it freezing, he was incapable of registering whether terrible joy or wonderful pain was filling his heart. He watched as Anna reached the stretcher and bent over Harry’s foil-wrapped form, running alongside it to keep up with the fast walking of the men, her face lit up with so much relief, love and happiness that it made him want to shout out with the wonder of it. He stopped, still watching, spellbound, then bent over and slumped into one of the chairs that lined the corridor and put his head in his hands. A passing nurse stopped and came over to him, leaning down to put a hand on his arm.
‘Are you all right? Can I help you?’
‘I’m fine,’ Michael gasped, leaning his head back against the wall, and trying to catch his breath. ‘Yes, thank you, I’m fine.’
‘You came in with the baby, didn’t you? Shall I show you where they are?’
‘No, no thanks. They just need each other for now. And I have to go. I have to go to my wife.’
‘Oh I see. All right then.’ The nurse looked a little confused, but smiled at him as she straightened up. ‘If you’re sure you’re OK?’
‘But nurse—’
‘Yes?’
Michael stood up and looked at her, his face tear-stained and weary, but with the smallest glimmer of hope lighting his eyes. ‘Could you give the young lady – the baby’s mother – could you give her a message for me, please?’
‘Yes, of course. What is it?’
‘Could you tell her I’ll come back for her? Tell her I send my love to her and Harry, and – please – tell her – I’ll come back.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My thanks to Rachel Hore, Liza Reeves, Lucy Ferguson, Jenny Parr and Nick Sayers of HarperCollins and to Carole Blake of Blake Friedmann for their help, support and encouragement.
I am also extremely grateful to PC Geoff Twigger of the Metropolitan Police, Professor Ian Craft, Dr Georg Hogewind and the staff of the London Gynaecology and Fertility Centre, Daniel Brown of the Department of Psychology of the Institute of Psychiatry and Dr Lewis Clein. Many thanks too to the patients who allowed me to witness their treatments and investigations and talked to me so openly.
If you enjoyed The Longing, check out these other great Jane Asher titles.
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Copyright
The characters and events in this book are entirely fictional. No reference to any person, living or dead, is intended or should be inferred.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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This edition 1997
First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollinsPublishers 1996
Copyright © J. G. Ballard 1996
Jane Asher asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780007571826
Ebook Edition © DECEMBER 2013 ISBN: 9780007571826
Version: 2014-01-06
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