by Susan Lewis
‘Yes, I’m listening,’ Corrie answered. ‘But why is he here?’ she said. ‘Why has he come all this way …’
‘I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. I just want to hear you say that the minute you put this phone down you’re going to go straight to Cristos and you’re going to stay with him until he leaves tomorrow – when I shall be at the airport to bring you back into London myself.’
‘OK, I’ll do that,’ Corrie said, smiling at his near panic-stricken concern. He really did care about her, and just like a father he was giving her orders. It was something she could get used to, she was thinking, as she said a very warm goodbye. Nevertheless, she wasn’t going to be taken in that easily, there had to be something behind what Luke had said about Phillip, and she wanted to find out from Luke exactly what it was. And if Luke was right here in Castle Combe …
But Luke wasn’t in Castle Combe, at least not anymore he wasn’t, and in less than four hours, when Corrie learned precisely where he was, she was on the very next train to London, forfeiting her last night with Cristos to spend it with Luke.
The call had come just after eight o’clock, while Cristos was closeted with the actors discussing the extra shots he wanted to do the next morning before they packed up and left for the airport. Corrie was in the bar with Jeannie and several others, glancing nervously over her shoulder every time someone walked in, not really believing Luke would come to the hotel, but half-afraid that he would. Still, she felt safe with Cristos so nearby, so what was there to worry about?
‘You’re starting to make me dizzy,’ Jeannie complained, as Corrie’s head spun to the door again. ‘He’ll be through with Winters any time now…’ She stopped as she heard Corrie’s name.
‘There’s a personal telephone call for you,’ the hotel manager said, ‘would you like to take it in reception – there’s no one there at present?’
‘Thank you,’ Corrie said, getting up to follow him out of the bar. It could be Phillip or Annalise trying to get hold of her. And if it was Luke …? Well, she’d just see what he had to say this time.
It turned out to be none of them, and Corrie could hardly believe her ears as the woman’s voice at the other end of the line, after confirming that she was speaking to Corrie Browne, told her that she was ringing from Charing Cross Hospital in London where they had just admitted Luke Fitzpatrick.
‘He’s asking for you,’ the woman told her in a tone that couldn’t be described as anything other than funereal. ‘I think you should come. And without wishing to alarm you, I think you should get here as soon as you can.’
‘But what’s happened?’ Corrie cried.
‘I think it’s better if I explain when you get here,’ the woman answered. ‘But you should be aware that his injuries are serious … That he’s in a critical condition …’
‘What do you mean? What kind of injuries?’
She heard the woman give a gentle sigh as she seemed to twitter at the end of the line. ‘I’m afraid they were self-inflicted,’ she finally answered.
‘You mean … Are you saying …?’
‘Yes, I think you understand what I’m saying,’ the woman interrupted. ‘He’s lost a lot of blood … The doctor’s with him now … We’re very much afraid, Miss Browne, that he may not see morning.’
Corrie could feel herself shaking. This was the very last thing she’d expected …
She put the phone down gazing distractedly about the room as she tried to decide what to do next. She was on the point of running upstairs to pack when in a blinding flash it suddenly occurred to her that this might be a trick. Turning back to the receptionist, who had come out of the office once Corrie had finished on the phone, Corrie rapidly gave her a list of instructions then ran up to Cristos’s room getting there just as the receptionist was putting through the call Corrie had asked for. Corrie felt wretched doing this, especially when she heard a voice answering the phone with,
‘Good evening, Charing Cross Hospital.’
And she felt even worse when a few minutes later she had it confirmed that Luke Fitzpatrick had indeed been admitted that night. But she’d had to check, she told herself firmly, because he was quite capable of pulling a stunt as sick as this.
Hastily she scribbled a note for Cristos, threw her things into a bag and ran back downstairs to the bar, grabbing the times of the trains from the receptionist’s outstretched hand as she passed.
Jeannie drove her to the station at breakneck speed, getting her there just in the nick of time.
The journey, Corrie knew, was going to take an eternity, and that she should be starting out with a dilemma as to whether or not she should ring Phillip did not bode well for the state of mind she would arrive in. In the end, if only to dispense with the problem, she decided she should ring her father.
The line from the train was dreadful, but Corrie managed to let him know what had happened, and was relieved to hear him say that for the time being they should keep this from Annalise.
‘Would you like me to come to the hospital?’ Phillip said.
Would she? ‘Yes,’ she answered, without giving it too much thought. ‘But I won’t be there for a while yet, the train’s only just pulled out of Swindon.’
‘Did they tell you why …’ The line broke up so badly then that Corrie shouted that she would meet him there and rang off.
She sat back down then and started to think about Luke, asking herself over and over why he would want to take his own life. She had no answers, because in truth, she realized now, she knew nothing about him – except that something was terribly wrong with him. But what had happened, she wondered, to make him so bereft of reason that it had dragged him to the point where he’d do this to himself rather than go on … She thought back to when she had first known him, asking herself what could be behind his perverse sexuality? Why did he treat Annalise the way he did? Why did he speak with that chilling Irish voice? Who was Siobhan? Where had he been these past weeks? Why did he want her, Corrie? What made him believe that she would marry him? And how on earth was Phillip connected to all this?
The questions were coming at her so fast her head was starting to spin. Had it been him she’d seen on the bridge today? Had he known then he was going to kill himself? Perhaps he was there to take one last look at her before … No! Stop! she cried inwardly. This is nonsense! There was so much more to this than his feelings for her … And what truth was there in his feelings? He’d deliberately turned any sympathy she might have felt for him to scorn, and any concern to fear. But why? It was as though he just didn’t understand about human relationships, his way of handling love was to crush it, abuse it, even to defile it. God knew, Annalise could bear witness to that … But what the hell had happened to make him like it? And what was behind those horrible accusations of incest? She closed her eyes. Everything in the end seemed to lead back to her father … But why? What had he to do with it all? Was he just the helpless victim of a deranged mind, or had he done something so terrible that he was the very cause of the madness?
Corrie’s heart churned as she thought of Cristos then. How she wished he was there with her now. But what was the point in worrying him with her problems when for them it could all be over in less than twenty-four hours? Would they even get to say goodbye now? Already she could feel the pain of losing him. She couldn’t imagine that she would ever love anyone as much as she loved him, but telling him that now would change nothing. He would return to Los Angeles the next day, and she would try to carry on without him, working her way to the fulfilment of her ambitions, while trying to pick up the pieces of her life – and the lives that had been shattered by Luke. Dear God, she was already thinking of him in the past tense! It was what she had wanted, of course, to get him out of their lives … But not like this, and not before she knew what had incited him to such madness …
When at last Corrie arrived at the hospital she was shown the way to go by the casualty receptionist and after walking endless corridors and push
ing open countless swing doors, she finally reached the small private ward she’d been directed to.
A nurse was on duty outside, and as soon as Corrie gave her name the nurse smiled. Too happily, Corrie thought, given the circumstances – the muscles in her face were too strained even to attempt a response. But at least, she told herself, as she followed the nurse, the smile told her that Luke must still be alive.
‘He’s right through here, Miss Browne,’ the nurse said, holding open the door.
Thanking her, Corrie stepped into the doorway and looked across to the bed. She stopped so suddenly that it was as though someone had hit her, and a dark anger froze over her heart as she watched the room’s two occupants, who were as yet oblivious to her presence. Octavia’s back was turned, but Corrie was in no doubt it was her. She watched as Octavia lifted a hand to stroke Luke’s face. When Luke tried to stop her Corrie heard Octavia’s throaty laugh and the very sound of it was so malignant it seemed to crawl into the deepest recesses of her mind. Her eyes returned to Luke. His face was ravaged, his lips so pale and cracked that they blended almost invisibly with the waxen puffiness of his skin. Then turning his head he saw Corrie standing at the door.
‘You came,’ he said, his voice as dry and broken as his lips, and as his eyes feasted upon her an indefinable emotion seemed to swirl into their emptiness ‘Oh, Corrie, you came.’
Corrie didn’t answer, she simply didn’t know what to say. She’d been told he was dying, she’d rushed here to be with him because he’d asked for her, because he was dying…
Octavia was looking at her now and though Corrie wouldn’t look back she could feel the pernicious scrutiny of those hideous blue eyes. She had never felt anything like it in her life – it was as though a cloud of pure evil was thickening the air around her. And as a tight band around Corrie’s head increased its pressure Corrie cried,
‘Just what is going on here?’
‘You came,’ Luke repeated, holding out a hand.
For the first time Corrie noticed the bandages around his wrists. So he had tried to kill himself … But they had said he was dying … And Octavia! What the hell was Octavia doing here?
‘I’m sorry,’ Luke said as though reading Corrie’s mind, ‘I asked them to make it sound worse so’s you’d come. I didn’t think you would otherwise.’
Without uttering a word Octavia picked up a thick bundle of fur from the chair, and with her eyes still fixed on Corrie she lifted Luke’s hand to her lips. Her tongue curled around his fingers, then letting him go abruptly she walked towards Corrie. Keeping her eyes averted Corrie stood to one side leaving her enough room to walk out of the door.
‘You saw me today, didn’t you?’ Luke said as the door closed behind Octavia. ‘On the bridge. I willed you to come, do you know that? I willed you to walk down the street at that time, but you brought someone with you. Why did you do that?’
In her stupefaction Corrie could only look at him. It was as though she had walked into a pit of madness, and as the drumming in her head resounded through her ears she felt as though she too was being dragged from the roots of reality. Then the door opened again and the nurse came in, saying the other lady had left something behind. She picked up Octavia’s purse, giggled something about hoping Corrie and Luke could make up their differences now, and left the room.
‘Did you really mean to kill yourself?’ Corrie said when they were alone again.
She watched with morbid fascination as Luke’s eyes seemed to glaze over with pain. Then as the bloated lids dropped to mask them, he whispered, ‘I don’t know.’
‘What was Octavia doing here?’
‘She was with me when I did it. She called the ambulance and came here with me.’
‘Why did you do it?’
As Luke turned his head away, trying to push his face into the pillows, for the first time in many months Corrie started to sense that terrible sadness in him again. It felt so palpable it was as though she could reach out and touch it. Instinctively she tried to detach herself from it, but it was pulling her in and she was already moving towards him.
‘Luke?’ she whispered.
‘It would have been better if I’d died,’ he said, and Corrie’s heart contracted at the uncalculable grief in his voice.
‘Why are you saying that, Luke? What would have been better?’
His only answer was to shake his head, and then Corrie saw the tears flowing freely from the corners of his eyes into his hair. ‘I want you to love me, Corrie,’ he said brokenly, ‘but I don’t know how to make you.’
Sitting on the edge of the bed Corrie lifted his hand into hers. ‘Tell me what happened, Luke,’ she said softly. ‘Tell me what it was that made you like this.’
His eyes were closed, but with no hesitation he said, ‘It was you, Corrie. You went off with Bennati …’
‘No. It was before that,’ she said. ‘Something happened before that. Was it something to do with Octavia? With my father?’
At that his whole face contorted, as though the pain had become so intense it would rip him apart.
‘Which one of them is it?’ Corrie pressed.
His head started to move from side to side and saliva began to trickle from his quivering lips. ‘What did they do?’ Corrie whispered. ‘Luke, tell me …’
‘Oh Corrie,’ he cried, grabbing her to him. ‘Corrie, make it go away. Please, make it stop!’
‘Make what stop? What is it, Luke?’
‘Oh, Corrie, help me, please! Love me Corrie. It’ll stop if you love me. I know it will.’
‘What will? Luke, you have to tell me what it is.’
His arms tightened around her, holding onto her as though to drain the very life from her. ‘You have to keep me away from Annalise, Corrie,’ he sobbed. ‘Will you do that for me? You mustn’t let me near her anymore. It’s because of her …’
‘Luke, please! You’re not making any sense.’
His body was shaking so violently that Corrie knew she must call for the nurse. But as she extricated herself from his grasp he fell back against the pillows and Corrie saw that he was laughing.
‘Luke, for God’s sake!’ she cried, drawing back in horror. She glanced towards the door, starting to edge towards it. ‘Look, you need help. You’ve got to let someone …’
‘I need you,’ he said, and suddenly his teeth bared in a hideous grin. ‘I told you that,’ he sniggered. ‘Only you can make it stop.’
‘Make what stop?’ Her voice was a high-pitched thread of nerves.
He pushed his face towards her. ‘The incest!’ he hissed.
Corrie jerked back as though he had struck her. She could feel her mouth curling in revulsion and as his sunken eyes blazed manically the blood ran cold in her veins. ‘What incest?’ she breathed.
‘Mine! And yours! And his!’
‘What are you talking about?’ she cried. ‘There isn’t any incest!’
‘Oh, but to be sure there is, Corrie. Octavia told me! She’s told me everything.’
‘But she’s lying! What she saw at the Ritz had nothing to do with …’
His head suddenly twisted away, and Corrie reeled with the shock of seeing his face light up in a beatific smile. Following the direction of his eyes she turned to see her father at the door.
‘Hello, Phillip,’ Luke said chirpily. ‘I didn’t realize you were coming too. Do sit down.’
For a moment, as Phillip walked into the room, the sensation that she was losing her mind came over Corrie again. She took a breath to speak, but Luke said,
‘Would either of you like a coffee? I’m sure the nurse could rustle one up.’
‘No. No thanks,’ Corrie mumbled, fighting hard to maintain her grip on reality. She waited until her father was seated, right beside her, then turned back to Luke.
‘Phillip’s here now,’ she said, ‘so why don’t we see if we can sort out what you were saying before he came in.’
‘And what would that be?’ Luke enquired.
>
‘You know what you were saying,’ Corrie answered through gritted teeth. ‘The same as you accused him of when you spoke to me on the phone this afternoon. Now what is it …’
‘What?’ Luke said, wrinkling his nose to show his confusion. ‘I didn’t speak to you on the telephone this afternoon.’
‘Yes, you did.’
‘No. You’ve got that wrong, Corrie. Tonight is the first time I’ve spoken to you since I saw you in the office.’
‘Luke! I heard your voice! You said …’
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head and looking at her with genuine concern, ‘it wasn’t my voice. I didn’t call you today.’
Corrie turned helplessly to Phillip. ‘All right then,’ she said, turning back to Luke. ‘Just before Phillip came in you were saying something about incest … “Mine! And yours! And his!” you said. I told you Octavia was lying about what she saw at the Ritz, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?’
Luke looked at her in profound astonishment. ‘Corrie, you seem to have incest on the brain! It’s not healthy, you know. In fact, it’s not legal either, so I’d forget it if I were you.’
Corrie was so taken aback that an incredulous laugh coughed from her lips. ‘I don’t believe this,’ she muttered to Phillip. Then to Luke, ‘What about Annalise? You wanted me to keep you away from Annalise …’
Again Luke looked genuinely confused. ‘Why would I want you to do that?’ he said. ‘I’m going to marry her for heaven’s sake.’
Corrie just put her head in her hands. ‘I give up,’ she groaned. ‘Either he’s mad or I am.’
‘Luke,’ Phillip said, attempting to take over, ‘where have you been these past few weeks?’
Luke tutted and sighed, just like a child who’d been caught out on truancy. ‘I took myself off on a holiday,’ he said. ‘I felt I needed a break. I wasn’t far away though, and it was bloody freezing, I’m telling you. Did Annalise miss me? Where is she by the way? Doesn’t she know I’m here?’
