Love's Sacrifice

by Georgia Le Carre

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers. The words are strange in his mouth.

  I grab his wet face in my hands. ‘It’s OK. We’re not supposed to enjoy ourselves while he is not here.’

  ‘Trust me. I’ll get him back,’ he says. His words are like spells in the night.

  I nod quickly, my eyes filling up with tears again. He runs one finger in my hair. The action is unusual. Affectionate. We lost our passion. We have become pitiful creatures. I look at him sadly. Maybe we have lost too much to recover.

  Now I understand why so many couples who lose a child break up. Because you just can’t help it—the natural instinct is to turn on each other and tear each other to pieces, so that there is nothing living left to remind you of your terrible, terrible loss.

  ‘I will find him. If it is the last thing I do,’ he promises.

  ‘I know. I know you will.’ And at that moment I don’t think of any other possibility. I don’t think I might need to sacrifice him for my son. Because I cannot think it.

  Billie is in my head. ‘If Blake and Sorab were drowning, and you could only save one person, who would you save?’

  ‘I’m not answering that. You’re a wicked witch, Billie.’

  And she grinned evilly.

  But now the choice is upon me. I want to, I want to with all my heart choose Blake, but I can’t. I just can’t. The great mistake I made was when I thought of my own pleasure before I thought of Sorab’s well-being. I’ve learned my lesson. This time I won’t think of myself. I’ll do what I have always done. Put the ones I truly love before me.

  Blake Law Barrington

  She makes a dreadful sound, like the last rattle in the throat of a dying animal. I turn around and wrap my arms around her tightly, and feel her open mouth press into my breast bone. Her fevered breath and the odd sounds seep into my skin and chill my heart. How effectively Victoria has wounded us.

  ‘I will get him back. No matter what the price,’ I repeat loudly. In the darkness my voice mocks me with its blustery hollowness.

  ‘I know that,’ she says sadly.

  We lie awake for hours after that. Not speaking. Simply holding each other. At four thirty a.m. I switch off the alarm clock and get up. By five a.m. I am out of the house and itching for any kind of news of my son’s whereabouts.

  Seventeen

  Lana Barrington

  I call Billie at eight in the morning. I don’t know why I do. Billie always sleeps late. I guess I just want to hear her voice. She sounds sleepy. I know I’ve woken her up.

  ‘What is it?’ she says into the phone. She tries to disguise it, but there is an undercurrent of panic in her voice. She is expecting bad news. The thought that she is expecting bad news makes me feel frightened. The tears that are at the backs of my eyes surge forth.

  ‘Nothing has happened. I just wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If Sorab and I were drowning, whom would you choose?’

  ‘I wouldn’t. I’d let us all drown.’

  I stare blankly at the wall. Maybe that is the right answer. Why should I choose between my husband and my son? Let us all perish if need be.

  ‘Do you want me to come over?’

  ‘Yes,’ I sob, and put the phone down. I am a mess. I am a terrible mess. I want my son back.

  The phone rings almost immediately after I terminate Billie’s call. I look at it with surprise, my sobs dying in my throat. It is an unknown number. I only hesitate for a second. I don’t know how I know but I know instantly that it is her. She is calling me. My thumb hits the answer button.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Will you come and see me?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Bring my money with you.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘When you’ve got the money obviously.’ There is a thread of amusement in her voice.

  The line goes dead. I don’t hang about. I call the bank manager immediately.

  ‘I need it straight away,’ I tell him.

  He tries to do what he does with anyone that wants a super large cash withdrawal. He starts making excuses as to why I can’t have it in the next hour. He picked the wrong woman. Coldly, in the same voice that Blake’s mother uses when she wants to decimate someone, I reduce him to what he really is. An idiot puppet implementing policies that he knows are wrong and immoral.

  ‘Listen, you spineless creep, it’s my damn money and I’ll damn well withdraw it when I like, or I’ll terminate the entire account from your pathetic little bank. You’ve got twenty fucking minutes!’

  I call Billie and tell her not to come over.

  ‘Why?’ she demands.

  ‘Victoria called me. I’m going to see her.’

  There is a shocked silence. ‘Does Blake know?’

  ‘No, and I’m not telling him. Not yet, anyway. This is between her and me. She’s asked me to give her back her money. And I’m doing just that.’

  ‘Are you fucking out of your mind? That crazy bitch is probably trying to make you pay for the cost of hiring the kidnappers or something.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I concede. ‘But Victoria doesn’t need money from me to pay off the kidnappers. She wants me there for a different reason.’

  ‘Yeah. To gloat.’

  ‘So let her have her satisfaction.’

  ‘Don’t go, Lana. You’ll only make it worse.'

  ‘I don’t want to argue with you, Billie. I need to see her face to face. If she wants me to beg, I will. I just want my son back.’

  ‘You’re not getting your son back by begging.’

  ‘Give up, Billie. I’m going and no one is stopping me.’

  Unhappily, Billie rings off.

  I put the phone down utterly steady in my resolve. You see, I may be naïve, one can even call me stupid, but what no one knows is that I am willing to give up my life for my son. In a second. So she wants to gloat? Let her gloat. Whatever makes her happy. And all the while I can’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, I will find that chink in her armor. And even if I don’t, maybe I can glean some clue as to Sorab’s well-being, or his whereabouts.

  I don’t bother to hide or be sneaky with Brian. I tell him my decision and ask him to take me to the bank to pick up the money. He looks at me with a swift appraising glance before making a half-hearted attempt to dissuade me. Maybe he is a better judge of character than I have given him credit for, and knows that it would be a pointless exercise.

  ‘You’re playing right into her hands. She’s going to use this money to pay the kidnappers off.’

  I notice that he came to the same conclusion as Billie. Only he omitted the word probably. I look him in the eyes. ‘I know that, but do you really think she has no other means to get her hands on the cash?’

  He says nothing, but it is abundantly clear that he does not agree with my decision.

  ‘So she wants to savor the irony of it all, or even my fall. Let her. It seems I owe her that.’

  ‘We should tell Blake.’

  I glare at him. ‘If you tell Blake, consider this the last time you will ever see me.’

  His eyes flash. It is wrong of me, I know. He has done nothing wrong to me, but I don’t have a choice. He doesn’t love my son. I do. With all my heart. Yes, Brian is loyal, very loyal, but he doesn’t understand.

  He drives me to her in silence. In the car Blake calls.

  ‘Where are you?’ he asks.

  ‘I’m at home, of course,’ I say. The lie drips off my tongue.

  Brian doesn’t bat an eyelid. Just stares ahead and carries on driving.

  ‘Are you sure you are all right?’ Blake insists.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I am. I’ll see you tonight.’

  ‘I love you, Lana.’

  ‘I love you too,’ I say softly, and cut the call.

  I turn toward Brian. ‘Thank you.’ My voice is full of gratitude.

  He nods.

  He has made his alliance. He had no real choice, but ultimately, he knew he
would not have survived any betrayal of me. Nothing can be more ferocious than a mother protecting her young. Today, he has become a friend of mine. I will defend him to my dying day.

  The building is grand and imposing the way that an austere, granite sarcophagus standing on a high plinth can be, until you remember the pathetic scattering of bones languishing at the bottom of it. I walk into the building quickly, the brown envelope from the bank at the bottom of my bag.

  It is brightly lit and cool inside.

  It is not visiting time, but at reception they are expecting me. They seem eager to please. They refer to her respectfully as Lady Victoria. It is not like a mental hospital. It is like her personal office.

  A smiling nurse takes me to a waiting room. This must be the room they will bring Blake to when she summons him. I try to imagine which chair he will sit in. I pick the one farthest from the door. I sit and stare at the magazines on the table blankly. I don’t know how long passes, but it seems a long time. Eventually the door opens and she enters with a nurse.

  ‘Ring the bell when you are finished,’ the nurse says to me with a smile.

  I rise to my feet. Victoria has come to meet me in her hospital issued pajamas and a voluminous dressing gown. I consider that a threat. I get it. You only dress for those you want to impress. I too have not bothered to dress, but for the opposite reason. To show her that I am subservient to her. To allow her the opportunity to see how low she has brought me.

  She takes the sofa opposite to mine and coolly folds herself onto it.

  I sit down, and taking the envelope out of my bag, push it across the coffee table toward her.

  She covers it with her hand and pockets it in her dressing gown. Her nails are cut to the quick. It must be hospital regulation.

  ‘My, isn’t this strange?’ she says, looking at me without any sign of hostility.

  ‘Yes, this is very strange.’

  ‘You look terrible,’ she notes.

  ‘I feel terrible.’

  ‘You should. You are a thief.’

  I bite my lip. ‘How is he?’

  ‘He’s a bit of a spoilt brat. He won’t eat properly… And he bites.’

  My heart feels as if it is breaking. I don’t show it. ‘He is a good boy. He is just not used to strangers.’

  ‘And the only word the brat seems to have mastered is no.’

  She is playing with me. I resist the compulsion to tell her that Sorab can say more than just no. He can say yes. He can say Daddy, Sleep Teddy, din din for dinner, and Lana. No matter how many times I try to correct him he refuses to call me Mummy.

  ‘How is he?’ I repeat.

  ‘I wonder what you will give up for your son?’

  I look at her. I know she wants the ultimate sacrifice. ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet. I’ll think about it and let you know if there is anything.’ She stands up and, walking to the door, rings the bell.

  What? She’s leaving! I stand unsteadily. ‘Victoria?’

  She turns around and directs a withering look at me.

  ‘He is just a baby,’ I say, and the tears start flowing. ‘Please, Victoria. I will go away. I’ll walk away and stay away this time. I’ll do anything you want.’

  ‘What would be the point of that?’ she sneers. ‘You have already proven yourself to be a brilliant liar. You simply cannot be trusted. As soon as you have that brat back in your hands you will break all your pathetic little promises. So no, don’t bother.’ She turns back to the door to wait for the nurse with her back to me.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I sob. ‘I know I didn’t keep my word, but I was… I was blinded by my love for Blake.’

  It is the wrong thing to say. Her passive aggressive façade smashes to dust, and her head jerks around like a striking cobra. ‘And what about my love for Blake?’ she demands furiously. ‘That counted for nothing, did it?’

  ‘You said it was an arrangement.’

  She turns around fully and faces me, eyes glittering with hatred. ‘It was not an arrangement. And you knew that,’ she spits venomously.

  I stare at her, standing still, but vibrating with rage and hate. It is obviously pointless to try to reason with her. And yet, I can’t stop. Not now. Not after I’ve come this far. ‘You told Blake you understood. That he should cleanse me out of his system.’

  ‘You’re a pathetic hypocrite. Trying to justify stealing another woman’s man. What he sees in you is beyond me.’

  My spine straightens. ‘I didn’t steal him. He was not yours. He never loved you. I saved you from a loveless marriage.’

  She laughs. A horrible sound: a vulture’s cry as its talons grip into dead meat. ‘Are you suggesting I thank you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  She wants to claw my eyes out. I see it in her clenched fists, her scorching eyes, her heaving chest, but she controls herself with a Herculean effort, and grimaces. ‘If I were you, I’d stop talking. You’re not in any way helping your son’s cause.’

  A cold hand inside my chest. I shouldn’t have come. I’ve made it worse. Blake was right. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for what I did. I’m begging you, Victoria. Please, give me back my son.’

  ‘Look at you whining and crying because someone took your toy away from you.’ Her voice is brutally contemptuous.

  ‘He’s my son.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  She turns away from me.

  ‘Please give me back my son.’

  She does not turn back. Simply ignores my pleas until the nurse comes to take her away. The nurse’s eyes flick over my tear-stained face curiously, as she holds the door open for me. I go out with them and watch the nurse walk up the corridor together with Victoria and go through a locked door. Victoria never turns to look at me.

  Filled with a sense of disbelief at how spectacularly wrong it has all gone, I turn around and walk out of the hospital. I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tears from my cheeks.

  I should have practiced what I was going to say. I said all the wrong things. Why did I ever think there was even the slightest chance that I could appeal to her sense of pity? I stand at the top of the stone stairs and I see Brian standing next to the car staring at me. For a moment my head swims and my knees buckle. I look around for the railing to steady myself against, but it seems very far away so I sink down on the steps. Just in time. My head is feather-light. Brian comes running up to me.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘This can’t be real,’ I whisper.

  I see a flash of pity in his eyes. If only hers had flashed so. I watch him struggle to find the right words to say.

  ‘Let me help you to the car, Mrs. Barrington?’

  I shake my head. ‘Can you get my husband on the phone for me?’

  He takes his mobile out of his pocket and dials Blake. ‘Your wife wants a word,’ he says quietly and passes it to me.

  ‘Blake,’ I say and then all the words I wanted to say are suddenly ash in my mouth and I begin to weep uncontrollably. Gently, Brian pries the phone from my hand and speaks into it.

  ‘She’s just…upset.’

  Even though I am sobbing loudly, some part of me understands that Blake must have asked where we were because Brian says, ‘Outside the hospital. She met Victoria and returned her money.’ He pauses to listen then he says, ‘Of course, I’ll take her home right now.’

  He helps me to the car. On the way we pass Kensington, and that church where I went and sensed my mother’s presence. And again at an odd hour its door is open. It is almost like it is open for me.

  ‘Stop the car,’ I cry urgently.

  Brian looks me, but he doesn’t immediately stop the car.

  ‘I need to go to that church,’ I explain desperately.

  ‘OK,’ he agrees, and turns the car around at the next opportunity. He stops the car, and as I go to get out, he says, ‘I’m coming in with you.’

  We go into the church together and he loiters by
the inside of the entrance.

  There is a woman, dressed all in black. She is deep in prayer and does not look up at the sound of my entrance. I walk to the front and sit on a pew. Bowing my head I get on my knees and I pray. He must hear my prayer.

  ‘Oh Lord,’ I whisper fervently. ‘Help me, please. Help me. Bring my baby back to me. We made a deal. You were supposed to take care of him and I was supposed to do everything I could to help the children of the world. I have kept my word and already started my charity.’ But a small voice inside my head says, Yeah, you made little baby steps, but you haven’t really poured yourself into it, have you?

  Brian comes to me. ‘We must go.’

  I stand and follow him. And then an odd thing happens. The sun must have burst through a cloud outside, for sunlight suddenly pours through the stained window and throws colored light on the floor in front of us. It is in the image of the Madonna and child. I stop and look at the beautiful image.

  I look up at Brian, my face awed, as if I have just witnessed a miracle. Indeed it seems that way to me. ‘Do you think it means something?’

  Brian is careful. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘It’s the image of the Madonna and child.’

  He nods. ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  Eighteen

  Blake Law Barrington

  Twenty minutes after Brian lets me know that he has dropped Lana off at the house I walk through our door. I feel like I am a stringed instrument that has been tuned too tight. Any moment something could snap my control of the situation. I stand at the entrance to the living room and look at her. She is hunched and staring at a spot on the floor. She seems so small and defeated. My heart bleeds to see her so. As if sensing my presence she looks up suddenly. Her eyes are cloudy and wet. I stride across the room and envelop her in a tight hug.

  ‘Don’t ever put yourself in harm’s way again,’ I whisper, caressing her cheek with my thumb.