Gilded Wings

by Laura Miller

  “Just a bit too late” he sneered at me. He raises the slick black revolver and placed it against his temple. His smile never left his mouth. He was enjoying every minute of this.

  “Told her I would get her”. My stomach lurched into my mouth, I was hyperventilating.

  BANG. The bullet penetrated his skull. Claret blood splattered against the pastel floral wall paper. His body slumped into a heap in front of me. The last face he saw was mine. He had what he wanted. The pleasure of seeing my face knowing what he had done.

  Knowing there was nothing I could do to save her. Her hand, her tiny porcelain hand was in clear view of the doorway to the back of the house. So fragile, so still. No, please no, wake up. Wake up. She was too still. Too pale.

  Sweat poured down my face onto my chest. I was panting into the darkness. Looking for an indication that this was not real. I reached for the lamp and glanced around my bedroom. A dream.

  I longed for Connor to hold me, to protect me. I was following my mother’s course.

  ***

  "Morning", he smiled at me. Testing my reaction to him. "I brought your breakfast in bed."

  I glanced down at the slightly charred toast and glass of orange juice. Henry was notoriously lacking in the kitchen. But his effort was there. That meant something.

  “Thanks"

  "I have to go into the office today but I will be back for six."

  "Okay."

  “I am sorry Evie, I will never touch you again. I promise. I will be the husband you need, you deserve”, he paused “please don’t leave me”. A sob erupted from his voice.

  “It’s ok Henry. I told you I won’t leave you”. Guilt consumed me.

  He kissed my lips tenderly, “thank you, I am so sorry darling, so sorry.”

  “Let's forget about it, you should get going to the office”.

  “Okay darling. Bye, see you tonight. Don’t cook. I will order in”.

  I took a bite of the toast. It tasted foul. Taking a mouthful of orange juice to try and dislodge the taste of ash from my mouth. My stomach heaved.

  I ran to the bathroom and caught the basin just in time. My body had removed the unwanted mix of toast and orange juice leaving me feeling irrationally weak. I ran the water of the faucet to refresh myself, hurdling mouthfuls of the crisp cool water into my mouth, wanting to remove the vile taste of bile from my throat. Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the overhead mirror. I carefully looked over my lacerated face. Purple bruising surrounded it in blotches. It was hideous. There was no way to hide it. The pain that emanated from it was intense. I needed pain relief now.

  I pulled open the medicine draw to grab the Naproxen a deep feeling of sickness came over me. Right there in front of me rested my unopened pill packet. The packet that I should have started yesterday. That couldn’t be right. Surely? I would have remembered to take the new packet if I had had my period. I ran to the living and emptied the contents of my handbag onto the floor desperately rummaging for my diary. There it was, in black and white. I was late. Shit

  ***

  I sat in our bathroom staring at the thin white plastic test which I knew was about to change my life forever. Perhaps not knowing the definitive answer would be better. Perhaps it was the alcohol and stress that had caused the sickness and missed period. That’s probably it. I will do the test and it will be fine. I replaced the lid on the test end and began the two minute wait that was set to define the rest of my life. Somewhere sub-consciously I knew this. I knew I held a life inside of me. Instinct.

  Those two minutes were the longest I have ever had to endure. I was shaking so hard that I dropped the test onto the floor. Picking it up, fear consumed me.

  No. . .No . . . It can’t. Instinct had not prepared me for the reality, the reality of bringing new life into a relationship so tainted. I grabbed it taking a closer look. Two lines, two little blue lines. I reached for the outer packaging to confirm the results. To confirm that I had read it wrong and I was in fact looking at a pee stick telling me I was not pregnant. No matter how much I kept looking into oblivion and referred back to the instructions there was no denying it. It was positive. I am pregnant. Dates. Dates, all jumbled in to one. I had sex with Connor whilst I was pregnant. How could I be so incompetent. Carrying Henry’s child.

  I slumped to the floor. My life felt surreal, it felt like I was having an outer body experience, watching another woman seem so positively depressed at her life that she could not enjoy the news of the new life inside of her. I wanted to scream at the woman sitting there looking so lost and confused. Tell her to leave and run a million miles away. That was all a fantasy, reality wouldn’t let her.

  This couldn’t possibly be happening to me? Me, a mother? The feeling was so bittersweet. I had not expected to feel so scared and in denial about carrying our first baby. This was meant to be a time of joy, a momentous realisation that we were bringing a life into this world together as a happy couple. Yet here I was sitting on the bath room floor clutching a stick cover in pee and I was petrified. Scared of Henry, scared of carrying a child. Scared of being married.

  ***

  “Hey Baby, I’m home. I brought Indian with me. Is that ok?”

  I walked through to the hallway and took the brown paper bags from him. The scent of ginger and chilli was mouth wateringly good.

  “Of course, smells amazing. I will just go and dish it up and bring it through to the lounge”. I pecked him on his cheek. Henry smiled sweetly at me and it helped me remember the warmth we can share together. The possibilities.

  I brought through two plates piled high with food, it looked delicious. I suppose this was an upside to pregnancy. Indulging in more good food without Vivienne complaining about my weight for once. Silver lining?

  Perhaps this would be the moment that Henry and I could focus on, and move forward together, forgetting the past. Forgetting the mixed palette of purple which swept across my lower jaw. This could be the catalyst that Henry needs, that I need.

  “How was work today?” Hoping that his response would be civil. Henry did not usually discuss work. He would inform me of factual information and statistics, anything that anyone else on the company was already aware of. If he was frustrated or tense he would sit within the confines of his home office. Now I understood why, he confided in her, he talked to her. Not me. Not his future wife. The emotional betrayal seemed to be more poignant that the physical.

  Henry must have noticed the saddened look which crept across my face as his hand gently rested on my thigh. I looked up to see his face soften.

  “She doesn’t work for me, you don’t have to worry, I have ended it with her Evie. I promised that I would and I have.”

  “It’s not just that Henry, but you never really discuss you work at home. I know I don’t work with you but sometimes I feel like an outsider in my relationship with you. I would love to know when you have had a good day, or a bad one too”, I sighed as a lone tear escaped from my eye. “I just want to feel like I am a part of your world.” I flinched as his hand rose to wipe away my tear. I couldn’t help it, it was an automatic reaction. Henry’s hand paused.

  “I’m not going to hurt you”. His thumb connected with my cheek as he gently wiped my tear away. “Okay Evie, I will try and tell you more about work, it’s not that I don’t want to discuss it with you, but when I have been in the office all day the last thing I want to do it talk about the same things I have spoken about all day. But, as you would like to know, I had a good day at work today.” I am not sure what I expected, he had taken my words literally, and every day I would be told if he had a good day or a bad day. Perhaps once we are married he will see me more as his wife and confide in me more.

  I took a bite of my Tikka Masala, it was delicious and aromatic. I couldn’t get the next forkful into my mouth soon enough. Before I had realised it, I had consumed the majority of my plate and Henry was gawking at me like I was something out of the Rocky Horror show.

  “Hungry?” l
ooking at me amused.

  “Ah, yes, sorry. I just... I... “I paused momentarily gathering enough courage to tell him. “Henry..”

  “Yes darling”

  I found myself nervously fidgeting. My eyes burning into my hands; I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as I let the next few words leave my lips.

  “I’m pregnant”, the words sounded nothing more than a mere whisper.

  His hand came up to cup my cheek, the warmth from his palm was comforting. Risking glancing up at him I saw his eyes alight. He was happy? “Is that what you have been worrying about?” he smirked.

  “A little, I didn’t know how to tell you.” I admitted, exhaling to release the pent up frustration and worry that I had help trapped inside of me.

  “Look Evie, I love you, I can see why you are worried. We are not even married yet and you are pregnant. You know I have always wanted children, but this is perhaps a little soon. I agree with you.” Agree with me? I had never said this was too soon.

  “Henry, I. . .” He cut in “Look I think it may be best, especially if you are this worried to perhaps wait. We can always try again in a couple of years or so.”

  Confusion gripped me, “Henry I didn’t say I want to start trying for a baby, I said I am pregnant. There is no waiting a couple of years, we are pregnant now.”

  This conversation was not going the way I had expected, fear consumed me, my natural instinct to protect had risen.

  “But you don’t have to be.” He sounded so matter of fact and cold in his response that a shiver rippled down my spine. My hands automatically clung to my stomach, maternal instinct was protecting my beautiful unborn baby. The need to protect and care for this tiny innocent life was overwhelming.

  “No” I snapped.

  “No what?”

  “I am having this baby Henry. You are marrying me, you want children with me. I know this is slightly sooner than expected but I am having this baby.” Tears spilled from my eyes, “Please Henry, please” I whimpered begging him for the opportunity to have our baby.

  “Okay, okay Evie, hey, you know I would never make you get rid of it, if you want it then okay, we will do this.”

  “It?” I questioned, was he was referring to our baby as an ‘it’?

  “The baby Evie, I said you can have the baby, now drop it okay.”

  “Okay, sorry, I suppose it is all new territory.”

  We sat in silence cuddled up on the sofa with one another for the rest of the evening. The sound of the television was drowned out by the thoughts of our baby. I caressed my stomach naturally and couldn’t help but smile at the thought of us once again being happy.

  Being a family.

  Chapter 18

  “Evie, open up”

  The repetitive thudding of Lucy’s hand against my front door was confirmation that she was here. I had avoided her successfully for three days so far. Waiting, praying for the purple hued bruise to fade and disappear before I could be in the same room as her. I didn’t want Lucy to come between me and my happiness, not now.

  The past three days since Henry had found out I was pregnant have been heavenly. I have felt more connected to him that I had in a very long time. He was being more considerate and gentle and for once I felt serene. This was the changing event which has pivoted his personality into being the loving husband I always knew was inside of him. I had waited and the man I once grew to love had returned to me. My love, My Henry.

  “Hang on a minute Lucy, just grabbing the keys.”

  I ran to the bathroom as quickly as possible. As I looked at my reflection in the mirror there was no way of hiding the four inch yellow and green bruise which encapsulated the whole lower side of my jaw. I reached for my MAC foundation and applied it as efficiently as possible. Two minutes later the bruise had disappeared into oblivion. Thank God for MAC.

  “Hey honey, sorry I was so long, couldn’t find those damn keys.”

  Lucy air kissed both of my cheeks. The close proximity of her to my jaw made me nervous. I was suddenly questioning my application skills.

  “Soooooo?”

  “So what?”

  “Urgh you are so rubbish! Bridesmaid dresses, we are shopping for them today.”

  “Oh of course, I completely forgot! Right, gimmie a sec to grab my bag and we will go.”

  Lucy let out a little squeal “Yay.”

  Alexis was standing in the doorway of Selfridges awaiting our arrival her glossy raven hair blowing against the bustling Autumn wind.

  “Hey Lex”, Kissing both her cheeks.

  “Hey sis, hows things?” She pulled back a little, both her hands holding my upper arms. Her eyes glassing over my face, ready to scrutinize my response.

  “I’m fine, what’s with the third degree?”

  “Well, I kinda know”

  I turned to Lucy, furious. “Seriously? Can you not keep anything quiet?”

  “Hey don’t be angry at me. I just said Connor crashed at yours, you just kinda dropped yourself in the rest of it” She smirked.

  “Oh for fuck sake, Lex really? I’m not five!” I exclaimed.

  “Ha I knew it! So, why are we still bridesmaid shopping if you’re getting jiggy with Mr. Sexy-as-fuck-fighter-dude?”

  “Nothing is happening with me and Connor so can you both please drop it.” Sheer anger encased each syllable.

  “Okay jeez, I was just asking,” Lex sighed.

  “Look I’m sorry for snapping, but seriously, can we leave it? Connor doesn’t want to know, it was a one night thing, mistake. Done. Now, let’s go and get my bridesmaids some kick ass dresses.”

  Selfridges was, well, tedious. Lex and Lucy couldn’t agree on anything. Two hours, twenty three minutes in the changing rooms, to come up with nothing, zero. Stress and nausea threatened to surrender at any given moment.

  We were ready to dispose of the silk remnants and head over to Harrods, I had simply one week to find dresses for the maids. The one part of the day I had asked for control over and yet that was impossibility. I was completely in over my head in every sense of the phrase.

  “Evie, look” A squeal of excitement oozed from Lucy.

  “They are perfect, even Lucy and her gothic grunge get-up can’t not like these”.

  I turned, not sure if I wanted to get my hopes up. Baby bean was urging me to replenish my food stocks.

  “Wow”, they were perfect, dark and dramatic yet effortlessly chic. “Try them on, now” I shrieked, sounding a little too overzealous.

  The girls looked simply stunning. Jet black lace sweetheart bodices were covered with a sheer tulle which crossed over one shoulder. Pinned with an ornate onyx brooch. The dresses nipped in at the waists and flowed to the floor in a cascade of ruffles. Only Badgley Mischka could design a dress so exquisite.

  “Late Lunch ladies?” Lex offered. “I think we earned it”.

  We flagged down a black taxi and instructed him to take us to Bella Amio. It was my favourite restaurant in the world. Cozy, warm and full of superb flavour full authentic Italian dishes.

  The front of the restaurant was painted terracotta, with beautiful olive bushes either side of the stone steps which paved the way to the rustic timber front door.

  We were seated by Carlo, the owner and most hospitable and charismatic man I had ever had the pleasure of meeting. His warm olive skin framed his chocolate brown eyes. His features all highlighted by his crisp white hair.

  “Bonjourno, howa can a Carlo helpa yous beautifull a ladeez today?”

  “Could we have some bread sticks while we devour your scrumptious menu?”

  “Of a course, letta me getta you some”.

  Carlo arrived back with enough breadsticks to feed the whole restaurant, I eagerly grabbed one, nibbling furiously whilst my glands salivated at the imagery of the delicious food menu.

  “You is a glowing Everlene”.

  A warm blush scolded my cheeks, deception and knowing proving to be a weighted burden on my shoulders.

&n
bsp; “Thank you” I say with even more of a hue creeping across my face.

  “What is the weird blushing in aid of? Learn to take a compliment girl” Lucy grinned over.

  “I’ll bear that in mind”.

  Plates of food consumed our table, mine being the largest portion, lasagne with a helping of garlic bread, side salad and gratinated potatoes. The scent was overwhelmingly intoxicating.

  Lucy broke the silent destruction of my meal “So have you spoken to Connor?”

  I wanted to choke on the lump of bread stored in my mouth, “I told you Lucy, he is not interested. If he was I would have heard from him”.

  “Okay, but let’s say hypothetically he had tried to get in touch with you, would that alter your view?” Her face beamed towards me with so many unsaid words, lingering on my response.

  “But he hasn’t, so hypothetically, I would tell him to poke it where the sun doesn’t shine”.

  Lex erupted into fits of laughter. I couldn’t quite contain the serious tone in which my comment intended and gave into the laughter. The rest of our meal avoided the subject of Connor. The realisation that he used me still hurt. I still longed for his touch. To hear his voice, to see his face.

  ***

  We arrived back at Lucy’s by five. The sun had surrendered to dusk, and the night sky was flecked with the brilliance of the stars. The bitterness of the night air was chilling. Yet thoughts of Connor warmed my body. We stepped into the comforting interior of Lucy’s flat. Before I was barely able to comprehend I felt as if the air had been knocked out of me. My body lacked the coherency to string together any literate sentence. I stood, grounded, as if roots had penetrated the oak floor boards and caged me to a stand.

  “Hi Evie”, his voice, so silky, bittersweet. Temptation. The bliss of his eyes staring into mine. The lust was evident. The rise and fall of his chest. The depth of his increased breathing. I stood, unable to move. Unable to speak. Tears welling, ready to release to my yearning for him. I bit back the unshed tears with every ounce of strength I possessed. I could not let him see my feelings for him. Baby bean had changed everything.