by Tina Duncan
‘Every woman deserves beautiful nightwear,’ Alex said huskily, gesturing between the garment and the box.
It was then Katrina noticed there was something else in the box. In fact there were several somethings—two more nightgowns, one in the most gorgeous ivory colour, and the other a pale lilac.
A lump formed in the back of her throat. ‘I don’t know what to say. I’ve never owned anything so beautiful.’
‘“Thank you” might be a good place to start,’ Alex said, and held out his arms.
Katrina rose to her feet and went into his embrace eagerly, rose onto the balls of her feet and offered him her mouth.
When he finally lifted his head they were both breathing heavily. ‘I think we should retire to our bedroom and you can parade them for me.’
The glint of his eyes told her that he would do more than just look. Holding hands, they began walking down the corridor. ‘I guess I can throw out my old trackie and T-shirt I usually sleep in,’ Katrina said.
Alex came to an abrupt halt. ‘No! Don’t do that.’
Katrina turned to face him and was surprised to see colour striping his sculptured cheekbones. ‘Why not?’
He gave her a rueful smile. ‘I happen to think you look sexy as all hell in them.’
‘You do?’ She couldn’t hide her surprise.
‘I do.’
‘Then why the nightgowns?’
‘They’re more for you than for me. I just wanted you to have something nice.’
Another lump formed in the back of her throat. It was a lovely gesture, and proved how thoughtful Alex could be.
There was just one thing wrong with that: she’d wanted to keep emotionally detached. But her reaction indicated it was too late for that.
One night Katrina woke to find she was alone in bed. With a frown, she was about to get up and investigate when she heard Alex’s voice on the baby monitor.
Realising he was in the nursery, she subsided back against the pillow, listening curiously.
‘Hello, Princess. What are you doing awake at this time of night? You should be asleep,’ he said softly.
An indecipherable gurgle, barely loud enough for Katrina to hear, was his response.
She heard a rustling noise; it sounded as if Alex had picked Samantha up out of her cot.
‘So you can’t sleep either, huh? Neither can I. Maybe we should keep each other company for a while.’
The baby cooed, as if to say that it was a good idea.
‘What woke you up, I wonder?’ Alex said, keeping his voice low. ‘You can’t be hungry. You drank as much milk as a baby brontosaurus.’ There was a pause, then, ‘What did you say? Not as much as a brontosaurus, huh? OK. What about a tyrannosaurus rex? You’re happy with that? Good.’
Katrina smiled.
In this mood, Alex could charm the bees from the trees.
‘OK. That’s settled—you’re not awake because you’re hungry. So what does that leave us with, Princess?’ Alex murmured. ‘Maybe you had a bad dream, like your daddy did? Is that it?’
The baby cooed.
Katrina, who was still listening, felt her smile slip a little.
‘No. You look and sound far too happy to have had a nightmare. I bet I know what it is—you knew your daddy was having bad dreams so you woke up just so you could make me feel better.’
A wedge of emotion formed in the back of Katrina’s throat.
‘And do you know what? It’s worked. How can I stay sad about those nasty things in my dreams when I have you around, huh?’
There was silence for a while.
Katrina knew she was eavesdropping on what was a private conversation—even if it was only one way—but she couldn’t stop listening now. She waited with bated breath to hear what he said next.
She didn’t have long to wait.
‘Do you know something else? My father told me that when I had brats of my own I’d understand what he did to us. But he was wrong; I don’t understand. I’ll never understand. And you’re not a brat. You’re my princess.’
The wedge of emotion in Katrina’s throat expanded until she could barely breathe.
She’d often woken in the middle of the night to find Alex not in their bed. She’d mentioned his restlessness to him several times, and Alex had admitted to the occasional nightmare about his childhood, but hadn’t really wanted to discuss it. She’d always wondered what the nightmares had been about.
Now she knew.
With a shaky hand, she reached out and turned the monitor off.
She couldn’t listen any more.
When Alex came in some time later, Katrina pretended to be asleep. She almost gave herself away when he pulled her into his arms, but she simply snuggled into him.
As she fell asleep in her lover’s arms Katrina realised there was one positive to come out of what she’d heard—and that was that father and daughter were growing closer.
Despite the way everything was progressing so smoothly, Katrina wasn’t entirely happy. She was aware of a low-grade discontent hovering just beneath the surface, like a toothache that just wouldn’t go away.
This feeling came to a head on one particularly sunny Sunday when they put Samantha in her pram and drove to Bondi beach.
They were strolling along the promenade when it happened.
Because the weather was so nice, lots of other people were doing the same thing. Katrina found herself watching the other couples they passed.
No doubt she and Alex looked the same. No doubt with Samantha in her pram they looked just like all the other families.
But something was missing.
And that was when it hit her: somehow she’d fallen in love with Alex all over again.
She wasn’t quite sure when it had happened. It wasn’t as though it had hit her like a bolt of lightning. There had been no cymbals and drums, no choir of angels.
It had been a gradual thing that had crept up on her. It was there inside her, like a living thing.
She wanted to be like those other couples—in love, and loved in return.
But that was an impossibility, wasn’t it?
What chance did she have of Alex falling in love with her when he didn’t even believe in the emotion?
Alex liked and respected her. He was committed to her and their daughter. Surely that meant that he cared for her in his own way?
The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that she was right.
Alex must feel something for her.
Otherwise how could he look at her with tenderness in his eyes? And how could he make love to her as if she was the most precious thing on earth?
Feeling marginally better, Katrina turned her attention to something else that had been bothering her.
It had niggled at the back of her mind for the last week but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what was wrong.
Whatever it was, it was as elusive as the wind and as indefinable as the clouds rolling across the sky.
Katrina watched as another couple strolled towards them. The woman was pushing a pram; the man had a little boy of three or four sitting on his shoulders.
The little boy said something and tugged on his father’s hair. The man laughed and reached a hand above his head, scooped the child into his arms and began tickling him.
Katrina stopped walking and stared.
There was something in the picture she was looking at that epitomised what it was that was bothering her. Still, she couldn’t pin down exactly what it was.
Frustration imploded inside her. It was like a word sitting on the tip of your tongue that you just couldn’t quite spit out.
She was sure that if she looked hard enough the answer would come to her, but it didn’t.
‘What is it?’ Alex asked beside her.
Katrina gave herself a mental shake and forced a smile to her stiff lips. Whatever it was, it would come to her in its own good time. ‘Nothing.’
Samantha chose that moment to start
crying, saving Katrina from any further explanation, something she was thankful for.
Because, although she hadn’t been able to figure out exactly what it was that was bothering her, she had drawn one conclusion. Whatever it was, it had something to do with Alex and Samantha’s relationship.
And whatever it was it wasn’t good.
Later that night Katrina woke to find she was alone in bed.
She made no move to get up and investigate. She was getting used to Alex’s middle-of-the-night wanderings. No doubt another nightmare had woken him.
Sometimes he would go in to the nursery but as often as not Samantha was asleep and he would tiptoe out as quietly as he’d gone in.
Katrina was never able to go back to sleep during these times. Instead she lay there worrying about Alex—which was exactly what she was doing now.
Suddenly, she heard Alex’s voice on the baby monitor.
‘Hello, Princess. So you’re awake tonight, are you?’
The baby let out a cry, barely loud enough for Katrina to hear.
She heard the familiar rustling sound of Alex picking Samantha up out of her cot.
‘You’re as pretty as your mother. Do you know that?’
Katrina’s throat clogged with emotion.
Maybe he did care for her just a little bit. Maybe there was a chance he’d fall in love with her.
She heard Alex mutter something, but she couldn’t make out what it was. She then heard a couple of sounds she couldn’t decipher.
The next thing she knew, the bedroom door was flung back on its hinges. She jumped a foot in the air. ‘What the…?’ she gasped, bolting upright, her hand pressing against her chest. ‘You scared me half to death!’
‘Sorry.’ He paused for a heartbeat then said in a voice she barely recognised, ‘Sam’s sick. We need to take her to the hospital.’
For the first time Katrina noticed that their daughter was cradled in his arms.
She blinked rapidly.
Her brain felt as if it was encased in fog, yet at the same time it was as clear as it had ever been.
Because suddenly what had been bothering her just smacked her across the face. Alex was never as relaxed with his daughter as the man at the beach had been with his son.
It was a subtle thing, which explained why it had been so difficult to pin down. But it was there.
He was never entirely at ease with her. It wasn’t that he was tense, exactly, but he was never completely comfortable either.
Why?
Although she desperately wanted an answer to that question, now was not the time.
What Alex had just said cut through her thoughts like the blade of a knife cutting through butter. ‘What’s wrong with her? Are you sure it’s not just that she’s teething?’
‘No, it’s more than that. I’ll tell you as you get dressed. But we need to get moving. Now!’
The urgency in his voice spun Katrina into immediate action. She threw back the covers, hurried to the wardrobe and grabbed the first article of clothing that came to hand.
‘Tell me,’ she ordered as she pulled on her jeans.
‘She has a fever. Her skin is blotchy. And she’s not focussing properly.’
The list of symptoms made her freeze before she started to shake so hard she thought she might fall into a million pieces. ‘What…what do you think is wrong with her?’
Alex shook his head, face grim. ‘I don’t know. But we need to get to the hospital as soon as possible.’
What followed was a nightmare.
They went immediately to the emergency department. As soon as they were inside, Alex said, ‘We need a doctor. Right now!’
He possessed such an air of authority that a nurse immediately snapped to attention. After the briefest of examinations, she took Samantha and hurried out of the waiting area into the main emergency-room.
Alex and Katrina followed through the swing doors and watched as the nurse handed her charge over to a female doctor in her mid-forties. The conversation was brief. Although they were too far away to hear what was being said, their body language and the sense of urgency that surrounded them suggested the initial prognosis was not good.
A shaft of fear speared through Katrina’s heart.
‘You can’t come in here,’ the nurse said, spying them a moment later. ‘You’ll have to stay in the waiting room.’
Alex took Katrina’s hand in his and squeezed it tight. The look he threw the nurse made her blink. ‘We’re not leaving.’
‘But, sir—’
‘We’re staying here.’ His tone brooked no argument; his face was hard and determined.
Alex and Katrina continued to hover in the background as Samantha was hooked up to an IV drip, and what appeared to be samples of blood were taken.
The longer they worked on her, the greater Katrina’s fear became. ‘If anything happens to Sam…’ she muttered.
Alex wrapped an arm around her waist. ‘Sam is going to be fine. The doctors know what they’re doing.’
Katrina certainly hoped so.
Each minute ticked by with mind-numbing slowness. Neither she nor Alex moved an inch, nor did they speak. Katrina wasn’t even sure they were breathing.
Eventually the female doctor hurried over to them. ‘I’m Dr Niven. You are the child’s parents?’
‘We are.’ It was Alex who replied, voice tense.
‘What’s her name?’
‘Samantha. Sam.’ Again, it was Alex who replied.
‘OK. Well, we suspect Sam has meningitis.’
The word gouged at Katrina like hungry teeth until she felt as though she were bleeding inside. A moan escaped her strangled throat and her knees collapsed beneath her. If Alex hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen to the floor.
‘Are you sure?’ Alex asked, his voice reed-thin.
Dr Niven shook her head. ‘No, we’re not. We’ve put her on antibiotics just in case. And we’ve taken a sample of her spinal fluid for testing. We’re going to rush the results through. We should know for certain in a couple of hours.’
‘And if it is meningitis?’ Alex asked.
Katrina’s heart leapt into her throat. She knew what he was asking and wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
‘Then we’ll continue with the antibiotics and monitor her progress. There’s nothing more we can do.’
There’s nothing more we can do.
Why did those words have a ring of finality to them?
Katrina swayed but didn’t fall, Alex still holding her up.
‘There has to be something I can do.’ Alex was unable to hide his desperation. ‘I can pay for the best specialist there is. Just tell me their name and I’ll fly them in.’
‘I’m sure you can. But it’s not necessary. If it’s meningitis, the best treatment is antibiotics.’ The doctor patted his arm. ‘That and lots of love, of course.’
Alex nodded then half-urged, half-carried Katrina across to Samantha’s bed. He gently deposited her in a dull grey visitor’s chair. Katrina felt like a rag doll with no power of her own to function.
She was aware of Alex pulling up a chair beside her but she didn’t look at him; her entire focus was on their baby daughter.
Willing her to live.
Willing her to get better.
Alex stared at Samantha.
She looked lost in the adult-sized hospital bed with her little arm hooked up to the IV-drip.
They’d been waiting for what seemed like hours. A nurse came and went at regular intervals to check Samantha’s temperature, blood pressure and whatever else the monitor she was attached to registered.
Every time he asked the same question: ‘How is she?’
And every time the answer was the same: ‘There’s no change.’
Alex balled his hands into fists, his heart slamming against his ribcage. She looked so tiny and vulnerable. So young and defenceless.
A hollow formed in the pit of his stomach until it felt like a
never-ending ravine filled with cold, whistling winds. Alex felt it pulling at him as if it was trying to suck the life out of him.
If Samantha died, Alex feared he’d disappear into the abyss for ever.
He couldn’t lose Samantha. He couldn’t let her die.
Fear beat on the inside of his skull with the force of a jackhammer.
Anxiety squeezed his heart with razor-sharp talons until he thought it might burst.
He wanted to jump to his feet and scream with rage. He wanted to howl at the gods for doing this to him.
He turned to Katrina. She looked shattered. Her face was pale and pinched, hands clenched so tightly together that her knuckles had turned white.
He placed a hand over her firmly woven fists. ‘She’ll be OK,’ he said, imbuing his voice with a confidence he was far from feeling inside.
‘If something happens to her…’
‘Nothing is going to happen to her.’ His eyes returned to Samantha who looked smaller and more fragile every time he looked at her. ‘She’s going to be OK. She has to be OK.’
Katrina was silent for a long moment and then she said quietly, ‘You love her, don’t you?’
His gut tightened. A lump the size and weight of a small bus formed in the back of his throat. ‘Yes, I love her.’
It was there with every beat of his heart and every breath that he breathed.
Katrina turned her hands over and squeezed his tight.
Despite the gravity of the situation the corners of his mouth lifted. ‘Aren’t you going to say “I told you so”?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I’m just glad…for both your sakes.’
So was Alex.
But as he looked at his gravely ill daughter Alex realised that he owed her some recompense.
He was a thief. A thief who had robbed Samantha of his heart. He’d spent time with her, done all the right things, but he’d been holding a part of himself back.
If Samantha died he would regret every minute he’d chosen not to give all of himself to her.
She had to live.
CHAPTER TEN
SIX hours later they were still sitting there.
