Tapestry

by Fiona McIntosh

  The journey down was tense. Her mother was still too shocked to speak with any fluency and simply clung to her in the back seat, holding her hand as though she never intended to let it go again. Her father wouldn’t let go of her arm, which he held gently on her other side, so she was flanked by watchful parents, determined not to lose sight or contact with her. Even Juliette seemed unable to let go of her, constantly flicking her gaze into the rear-view mirror to glance at her sister with a haunted expression while she drove.

  How could Jane explain any of it? She couldn’t. So she stuck to the well-crafted lie, which she’d massaged and got pitch-perfect in her mind on the flight home. There had been a brief press conference in the Northern Territory where Jane had been able to fudge her way through with a dazed look and lots of shrugs and I really can’t remembers. She haltingly explained, in enough detail to please the hungry press, what she could recall of the build-up to her ‘event’, as she termed it, on Ayers Rock. Beyond that moment of the rogue wind, she allowed the story to trail into a no-man’s-land of lost memory.

  A medical team had performed a thorough examination, to pronounce her in surprisingly robust health despite her trauma, although a lack of food and water meant she was showing signs of dehydration and weight loss. She was thankful that her body was looking fragile, or the mystics of the world would have been howling that she was some sort of phenomenon, she was sure.

  And now here she was at the hospital, exhausted, keenly aware of her body’s shortcomings while it got used to having her animate it again. She had begged a few moments alone in the bathroom to gather her thoughts.

  Will had woken yesterday, apparently. He was still quite groggy, as Juliette had warned.

  She’d already run the gauntlet of meeting his parents in the hospital reception, had briefly trotted out her story and had allowed herself to be hugged and kissed then passed to the next person. She was glad that the coincidence of Will waking up and her discovery at the Olgas on the same day was not resonating with anyone present. She alone understood the inherent magic of that coincidence. Winifred and William would hopefully be reunited and safe. She’d saved William’s life as she’d been charged with doing, and as a result her Will had been given the gift of his rebirth.

  How tenuous life is, she thought, as she tried to coax her honey-golden hair back into a smooth, silken sheen. This was how Will liked her to wear it: free from her preferred ponytail, so he could knot his fingers in it absently while watching a movie or smooth it tenderly while lovemaking.

  Her reflection seemed to shiver before her and she thought for a fright-torn moment that she saw Julius behind her, staring at her with that dark look of slight injury he wore so well. She’d imagined it. A blink later and all she could see was her reflection, and the peppering of freckles around her nose that make-up would normally hide. The light tan from Australia helped add an artificial glow of health.

  ‘Julius,’ she whispered to the mirror, ‘you have to leave me alone now.’

  Juliette pushed through the door, which protested with a creak. ‘Jane? What are you doing? We’re all waiting. The nursing team say he’s sitting up, ready for the family to arrive.’

  ‘Does he know I’m here?’

  Juliette shook her head, grinning gleefully. ‘We’re all holding our breath with excitement. Diane’s already discussing wedding dates with Mum. They’re out of control, but they’re so happy, Jane. I mean, this really is a happy ending and there was a time — I will admit — when I didn’t think we were going to have it.’

  Jane swallowed. She couldn’t tell her sister how nervous she was feeling; she dared not tell her parents that her experiences in a different era had changed her; she certainly couldn’t tell Diane and John Maxwell that she had been a harlot and unfaithful while their son lay near death.

  She nodded. ‘I know what you mean.’

  Juliette stepped fully into the bathroom to hug her. ‘It wasn’t until I thought we’d lost you that I realised how much I love you, Jane.’

  Jane was startled by the admission but allowed herself to be hugged, returning the gesture with feeling. ‘I … I’ve missed you all too and I’m sorry I seemed so preoccupied with my needs. It felt so important at the time to go to Australia.’ Her sister nodded and sniffed. ‘Good grief, Juliette, you’ve gone soppy on me.’

  Her sister’s eyes were misted. ‘Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. Come on, let’s get you two kissing again.’ She grinned. ‘You must be so excited.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, overly bright. ‘I was in here pinching myself.’

  ‘Dr Evans wants to say something to you first. He wants you to go in alone.’ Jane frowned. ‘Let him explain.’ Her sister dragged her out into the small reception area of intensive care.

  Jane smiled when she saw the nurse she recalled as Ellen beaming at her.

  ‘You’re back,’ she said, coming forward to surprise Jane with a hug. Everyone was in a huggy mood, apparently. ‘Seems your magic worked,’ she whispered for Jane’s hearing only. ‘Lucky, or I was going to ask him to marry me instead,’ she jested.

  Jane pulled back, determined not to cry, but feeling her chin wobble. She nodded, swallowing hard, determined to hold herself together. ‘The magic asked a lot of me.’

  ‘So I gather.’ Ellen gave a sympathetic smile. ‘Dr Evans has asked the two families to hold back. We think it will be overwhelming for Will if everyone is staring at him.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more. I have to be honest: I wasn’t prepared for today to be quite so emotional.’ She couldn’t tell Ellen that she was thinking of an entirely different man from an entirely different century. ‘I want to see him alone.’

  ‘He spoke briefly to his parents yesterday.’ Ellen stepped closer again. ‘He’s been resting ever since and we’ve kept everyone away. Obviously the Maxwells are champing at the bit to get to his side again, but Dr Evans spoke to them before you arrived and warned them that Will could experience what we call an overload. Come on, come and speak to Dr Evans and then you can have some private time with Will.’ She looked back at the anxious relatives. ‘Excuse us, everyone. Won’t be long.’

  Evans was waiting for them in the corridor. Jane could see Will lying asleep and caught her breath. Her promise not to cry was broken. He looked angelic lying there, so still and golden and heartbreakingly handsome. But her fears were borne out. She was not as thrilled to see him as Juliette had been to see her. The man she wanted was not lying in that bed. How would she ever find the right words to tell him this when he had been on a long and challenging journey to come back for her … as she had come back for him?

  Julius, she wept inside as tears rolled down her cheeks, and everyone quite likely — and quite reasonably — presumed they were tears of joy.

  ‘Hello, Jane,’ Evans said, beaming. ‘Welcome back. We’re very relieved you’re safe.’ He surprised her with a brief, fierce hug too. What was in the air today? ‘Wow, you’re as tiny as a bird. No wonder you blew off Ayers Rock.’

  ‘Have you seen it?’

  ‘Seen it, climbed it, signed my name at the top. Amazing experience. Not as dramatic as yours, though.’

  ‘No, that’s for sure,’ she said, her full meaning lost on him.

  ‘Jane, I have to tell you, he’s still a bit blurry.’

  ‘I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.’

  ‘No, I mean, we are not yet able to measure damage.’

  ‘Oh, I see. He’s talking, right?’

  ‘Yes. But he’s confused.’

  ‘He recognises where he is, though?’

  ‘He knows he’s in hospital. He knows he was injured. He remembers nothing of the incident. He recognised his parents, but he’s had no contact with the family since. It’s only been hours. He’s been sleeping for most of them.’

  Ellen squeezed her arm. ‘He made us laugh this morning, recalling a story of his childhood when the family was clustered around his bed at Christmas time, because he was so ill they brought t
he party to his bedroom rather than leave him alone upstairs.’

  Jane grinned. ‘And he threw up over Great Aunt Esme,’ she finished.

  Ellen giggled. ‘He’s a good storyteller.’

  Evans smiled encouragingly. ‘Ready? Go slowly with him. Perhaps best not to let him know about how we lost you for a while.’

  Jane gave him a wry glance. ‘Yes, I might just keep that to myself for now.’ She wondered why they hadn’t mentioned that Will had been asking where she was. But the thought was lost as she was shown into his private room by Evans. Ellen followed them.

  Gone were the machines that Jane recalled from the last time she’d been here. Will’s hair remained a bright blond, but looked somehow darker and duller after all his days prone in a bed. His eyelashes, tipped with gold, lay against the tops of his cheeks just as she remembered from mornings waking up next to him. He too had lost weight and his face had sunk slightly against his teeth. There were longer hollows where once small dimples had pressed into his flesh when he grinned. He looked every bit as beautiful as he always had, but now he appeared as a haunted echo of the sometimes impossibly cheerful, ever-smiling person she had been enamoured with.

  She was doing it again. Enamoured, entranced, had fallen for. Never loved. Winifred had nailed her on it; even Robin had remarked that she never spoke of love in connection with Will. Her heart was pounding, but from anxiety at being found out for the impostor she felt sure she’d become.

  Did she belong here? Or did she belong in 1716? Who was she?

  ‘Come on, Will,’ Ellen was saying as she shook him gently. ‘You have a very special visitor.’

  Jane felt redundant. She stood at the end of his bed and gripped the railing, watched him run his tongue over his lips as he surfaced from his doze. He gave a soft groan.

  ‘Lovely Ellen. I think I have to marry you,’ he mumbled drowsily to his nurse, not opening his eyes. Ellen smiled adoringly at him before sending her an apologetic look.

  ‘All normal,’ Evans assured her. ‘Sleep heals. He’s going to feel drowsy for a while yet.’ Jane nodded her understanding. ‘Yesterday he was lucid for about twenty minutes. This morning for ten. Every day will be different.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m afraid it’s not maths. Will is going to come back to us in his time frame, not ours, but he is definitely present and with us again. That’s the main thing.’

  Ellen glanced her way. ‘You try, Jane. It’s your voice he needs to hear. We’re hoping that you, of all people, are the one who will really bring him back into himself.’

  She disguised her reluctance by forcing herself to replace Ellen at Will’s side. And finally she was confronted by the biggest question of all.

  Is this what you want, Jane?

  Who asked that? It sounded like Robin, but she was probably going slowly mad, tormenting herself like this. Why was she second-guessing her actions, her motives? Look what you’ve done to be here! she yelled at herself. This must be what you really want, or why would you have gone through that harrowing experience? Yet her alter ego, or whichever other voice was doing battle inside her, was equally insistent. Be honest. Tell him!

  ‘Try, Jane,’ Dr Evans urged. ‘Let him hear your voice.’

  She cleared her throat, realising her cheeks were wet from her tears. ‘Will …’ she began hesitantly. Ellen had joined Dr Evans at the foot of the bed and both of them were smiling encouragement, nodding that she keep going. ‘Hey, Will,’ she tried again, wiping her cheek. ‘It’s me, Jane. I’ve missed you. Come on, wake up fully for me.’

  Will stirred, eyes blinking but not opening fully. He croaked a response, but she didn’t catch any words. She glanced at Ellen.

  ‘Normal,’ Ellen repeated gently, hands pressing the air in a reassuring gesture. ‘Go for it, Jane.’

  She touched him. He was warm through his hospital gown. She remembered this shoulder beneath her fingers, knew the gnarls and indents well and exactly how the flesh covered them. She was familiar with a silvery scar just where her thumb was placed; that was when he’d fallen while mountain climbing, and she knew this was the same shoulder that ached a bit in winter, because it had been broken during the same fall in the Rockies.

  ‘Will, wake up!’ She shook him gently. ‘It’s Jane. I’m here. Everyone is!’ She glanced at Ellen; knew what the nurse thought she should be saying. She took a breath and leaned close to him. ‘I love you, darling.’ It sounded as feigned to her ears as she knew it was in her heart. She swallowed her shame, but she realised no one else in the room had heard the false ring in her tone, least of all Will, whose eyes opened.

  He blinked a few times.

  ‘There he is,’ Ellen said. Jane had always wondered why hospital staff spoke inordinately loudly, but she realised now they were trying to get a patient to focus, or to impress something upon the patient’s loved ones. ‘Morning, Will,’ she said brightly, coming around to the other side of his bed to give him a solid shake.

  He was properly awake now, rubbing his eyes. ‘Hi, Ellen.’

  ‘There,’ Ellen said, and pointed Jane to the plastic beaker on his small bedside cabinet. ‘Give him a drink,’ she urged. ‘Drink up, Will. You need fluids.’

  Jane obliged, reaching for the beaker, which had a plastic straw embedded into the lid. Evans helped Will to raise his head, while Jane put the straw to her fiancé’s lips and nodded with a smile. He sipped, bright blue eyes fixed on her. She’d forgotten how most women melted beneath his gaze, which had an underlying innocence to it. That look impaled her now, as he sucked on the straw.

  She smiled, at last feeling some of the tension fall away. Lovely Will. She knew how much he loved her. She knew that nothing mattered more to him than for them to be married, starting a shared life with a shared name and a shared passion to have a family.

  ‘I’ve got enough love for both of us,’ he’d quipped when he first popped the marriage question, and she’d looked at him, made a bit uncomfortable by the speed at which he was moving. ‘I promise. You do love me, you just haven’t caught up with it yet. I’m well ahead of you, darling. I know our love is the sort that inspires poetry and stories.’

  She’d laughed at that. He’d always been able to make her smile, and humour made it easy to love someone, didn’t it?

  ‘I’m struggling for what to say,’ Jane confessed to him. ‘I thought we’d lost you. I went to Ayers Rock for you, Will. I knew it would bring you back to me. The ley lines … I have so much to tell you,’ she said, breaking her promise not to refer to her adventure and then pulling back from any talk of magic and spiritual awareness. She couldn’t imagine how it would sound to the man of science and the down-to-earth nurse on the other side of the bed.

  ‘Ayers Rock?’ he mumbled, the straw gripped between his neat teeth.

  She nodded, giving a watery smile as the wretched tears betrayed her again. ‘Yes.’ She laughed. ‘I was gripped by your magical madness.’ She saw his puzzlement. ‘Anyway, you’re back, and so am I.’

  Will sighed and lowered the beaker to clutch it loosely in his hands. He blinked and frowned slightly. ‘Er … sorry. Who are you, again?’

  Jane’s breath caught and her mouth opened a little. ‘Um …’ She threw a look at Ellen, who didn’t return it. Ellen’s gaze was fixed on Will. Evans was pulling at his beard, pondering, but not giving Jane eye contact either.

  ‘I should know you, shouldn’t I?’ Will said, his expression regretful.

  She swallowed, but nothing went down. Her throat felt parched. ‘It’s me, Will.’

  Shame ghosted across his features, momentarily reordering their perfect arrangement. ‘I’m sorry. Dr Evans said it was a head injury and things might be blurry. Did you say your name is Jane?’

  She nodded, stunned.

  He frowned and, like a child might, he seemed to strain to think about this name. ‘There’s nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know you. I mean, I obviously should …’ He looked distraught. ‘But I don’t know you from a stranger on the s
treet. I’m totally in love with Ellen, though.’ He grinned, his sentiments boyish, meant to be fun. He could have no idea how this hurt.

  It sounded so harsh, said like that. She sat back and the shock of his words made it feel as though she were collapsing from the inside out.

  ‘We were getting married,’ she strained to say. It came out as a choked whisper.

  ‘No.’ He looked shocked. ‘I … I … don’t know about that,’ he added, contrite. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t remember.’ His distress intensified. He began to shake his head, looking at the doctor and Ellen for help. His blue eyes puddled into pools of anxiety and he held his head in the long, splayed fingers she remembered caressing her, teasing her. How could he have forgotten? ‘I’ve been trying through the night, but I really can’t remember much since university days.’

  ‘What?’ Jane couldn’t help herself.

  ‘Don’t push it, Will,’ Evans soothed. ‘Memory is a fickle thing. Your brain is healing. There is every likelihood that getting back all those memories could take a little while.’ He glanced at Ellen and Jane knew some unspoken signal passed between them.

  ‘Are my parents waiting?’ Will asked, his anxious gaze trying to avoid Jane’s mask-like expression.

  ‘Yes, sweetheart,’ Ellen said. ‘Would you like me to bring them in?’

  He nodded. ‘Just them.’

  Ellen sent Jane a look of deep sympathy. She came around the bed to squeeze her shoulder. Nothing was said.

  ‘Do you want me to go?’ Jane said to him, an edge in her voice. She knew it was wrong to bully, but until now her thoughts had been occupied with her return and her confusion had been about whether she wanted to go back to all that was familiar. It had never occurred to her that someone might take that away from her — least of all Will.

  He shifted his glance back to her at last and she saw deep pain reflected in it. ‘I am so sorry. You’re very beautiful, but I’m a bit lost.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t think I’m the sort of person who would pretend.’

  ‘You’re not that sort of person,’ she replied. ‘Your total honesty used to make me uncomfortable sometimes.’ They smiled sadly at each other. ‘You loved me enough for both of us.’