Only Love Can Heal

by Rosie Harris

  He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes, diamond bright, searching her face, seeking assurance. Then, with a shuddering groan, he drew her towards him, clasping at her shoulder until her head came down to his. Their lips met in a lingering kiss, so sweet and tender that it brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘Just get well, my darling,’ she breathed. ‘I want you back home where I can nurse you.’

  Lucy’s need of him seemed to galvanise Russell. He improved daily. A new light shone in his green eyes and there was hope in his voice. The specialist and nursing staff, were delighted by his progress.

  At first, Lucy was bubbling with joy because of Russell’s rapid recuperation. When she realised it meant she could no longer delay telling him about the baby, she became quieter and more withdrawn. Russell thought her change of mood was because she had suddenly realised the enormity of what would be entailed in nursing him, once he was back at home.

  ‘The doctors say that I may be ready to leave here next week,’ he told her after a day spent undergoing extensive medical checks.

  Instead of looking pleased, Lucy dissolved into tears. Although she turned her face away quickly, Russell had seen her distress and his face hardened.

  ‘My offer of a divorce still stands,’ he told her abruptly. ‘Don’t feel you have to stay married to me for any damned stupid moral reason.’

  He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her round so that she was forced to face him. ‘I would hate you to stay because you felt it was your duty to do so!’

  ‘I want to be with you!’ she gulped as his gaze raked her face. ‘More than you know.’

  ‘Then why the tears?’

  She shook her head, too choked to speak. When he persisted her self-control snapped and deep racking sobs shook her body.

  A nerve in Russell’s face twitched as he watched her agony. Then he drew her towards him, pressing her face onto his chest. Patting her shoulder, he murmured unintelligible words of comfort. When she was calmer he raised her face, holding it between both his hands he stared deep into her eyes. ‘Something is troubling you, Lucy? What is it? I have to know.’

  Pushing her long blonde hair back behind her ears she stared back at him, biting her lower lip nervously.

  ‘I … I am pregnant.’

  He stared at her in disbelief and she felt a chill of fear course down her spine. It was too late to turn back now. Slowly, his taut features relaxed and a smile of pure joy lit up his face. His eyes shone with pride.

  ‘I don’t know if it is yours or not, Russell,’ she gulped before he could speak.

  His spontaneous enthusiasm wilted like a frosted flower and his green eyes hardened. ‘Not mine! What do you mean? I don’t understand.’

  In a choked voice she told him about Carlile Randell’s attack on her at his stables.

  Russell listened in grim silence. When she had finished he turned his head away as if unable to stand the sight of her. He had never felt so upset in his life. His temples were pounding and his throat felt tight with an implacable fury. He felt outraged and when he finally spoke, his face was contorted with anger as he silently vowed revenge against Carlile Randell.

  ‘Have you told anyone?’ he rasped.

  Lucy looked at him blankly.

  ‘Who knows you are pregnant … apart from me?’

  ‘Gary and Ruth.’

  ‘You told Gary Collins!’ His face flamed. It went against the grain to think that his Platoon Sergeant had been told the news even before he had. What could Lucy have been thinking of to do such a thing.

  ‘I had to tell someone, Russ. I was out of my mind with worry. You were away … Gary has always been a friend. He’s closer to me than anyone in my family,’ she whimpered.

  ‘But he has been out in the Falklands as long as I have,’ Russell exclaimed, perplexed.

  ‘He was injured … they sent him home. Didn’t you know?’

  Russell nodded without speaking. His own accident had temporarily wiped the incident from his mind. Now, it all came rushing back. He was back at Goose Green, in the centre of the square, directing Sergeant Collins on the disposal of the mountainous pile of ammunition lying there.

  He winced, remembering Gary pushing him to the ground, then the tremendous explosion, flying debris and then the sight of Gary Collins lying there covered in blood and groaning. Gary Collins had risked his life protecting him, how could he ever forget!

  He supposed he should be thankful that Lucy had turned to Gary. At least he knew how to be discreet, he thought, resignedly, remembering how tactful and cooperative Gary had been over introducing him to Lucy.

  ‘No one else? Not even my parents … don’t they know?’

  ‘No. I intended having an abortion before you came home only … only Gary stopped me.’

  ‘He was right! An abortion is out of the question.’ His hand shot out and caught her arm, holding it so tightly that she winced with pain. ‘When my parents visit tomorrow, we are going to tell them about the baby. Understand!’

  ‘No!’ Her face went chalk white and she tried to pull away. ‘No! I don’t want them to know, Russ!’

  ‘You can hardly keep it secret much longer, now can you,’ he said quietly. ‘And we are only going to tell them that you are pregnant, not what happened between you and Carlile Randell. They will probably be delighted.’

  ‘Delighted?’ She stared at him uncomprehendingly. She couldn’t understand what Russell meant or why he was tormenting her like this. ‘You mean they will believe it is yours?’ she asked shakily, her face flaming.

  ‘Exactly! They must think it is mine,’ he exclaimed emphatically.

  ‘No, Russ, it would not be right to do that.’ She pulled away and there was a sadness in her blue eyes that tugged at his heartstrings but he pressed on relentlessly, determined to have his own way.

  ‘Why not? You said yourself you are not sure whether I am the father or not,’ he told her brutally.

  She shivered at the savagery of his attack, then hung her head, letting her long gold hair hide her face from him.

  ‘Listen,’ he grabbed at her arm again, holding it as if in a vice. ‘You must do this for me … for us … and for my parents. Don’t you see, Lucy,’ he added harshly, ‘it is our only chance to provide an heir for the Walford Estates. I can never hope to father a child now … not after my injuries.’

  ‘I can’t do it, Russ. It would be … be like cheating.’

  He pulled her towards him, until her trembling body was pressed against his chest. He could feel her panic as he tried to convince her that his solution was the right one for all of them.

  ‘It is no good, Russ, I would never be able to tell them,’ she whispered chokingly.

  ‘I have already said that I am going to be the one to tell them, when they visit me this weekend,’ Russell said in a hard toneless voice. ‘I shall also confirm that we intend to sell the flat and so we will be moving into Walford Grange so that our baby can be born there.’

  Lucy tried to collect her thoughts. She knew she should be blissfully happy that all her weeks of heart-searching and misery were over but her senses were spinning. Providing his parents accepted what Russ told them, and Carlile Randell never gossiped, everything was going to be all right after all and there would be no scandal. Her baby, whether it was Russell’s child or not, would be brought up at Walford Grange, and enjoy all the privileges the Campbells could provide.

  Chapter 31

  Russell’s plan to move back to Walford Grange as soon as he was discharged from hospital presented far more complications than he had anticipated. The news of Lucy’s pregnancy had not been met with the enthusiasm he had expected. His mother and Mabel Sharp had both seemed to be very taken aback, hinting that having a baby around the place would increase the work load and add to their problems.

  ‘I do hope you are going to be able to cope when the baby arrives,’ Kate remarked from time to time as Lucy became increasingly cumbersome. ‘Russell still needs s
uch a lot of attention. He certainly won’t be able to help you at all with the baby.’

  ‘I am sure he will do what ever he can,’ Lucy defended. ‘There is nothing wrong with his hands and arms so at least he will be able to nurse it to sleep.’

  ‘That isn’t a man’s job,’ Mabel Sharp sniffed disapprovingly when she overheard Lucy’s remark. ‘Anyway, I don’t approve of too much handling. It only confuses the baby and makes it fretful,’ she added querulously.

  Lucy refused to argue with her. Mabel Sharp was now in her eighties and in the last couple of years had become rather frail. She was crippled with rheumatism which made her very irritable. Lucy guessed that she was more than a little frustrated to think there would be a new baby at Walford Grange but she would be too old to look after it.

  It made Lucy uncomfortable the way the old woman’s bird-bright eyes were constantly watching her. She was not sure whether Mabel Sharp was concerned for her health or whether she harboured suspicions about the coming baby.

  ‘You are the only one who has any reason to think it might not be mine,’ Russell snapped irritably when Lucy mentioned it to him.

  ‘I am not so sure. She is so intuitive. I am convinced she suspects something.’

  ‘She is bound to wonder what is wrong if you start looking over your shoulder all the time and jumping out of your skin every time she speaks to you,’ he scolded.

  ‘I can’t help it, Russ!’ Her blue eyes filled with tears and her under-lip trembled. ‘I feel so edgy.’

  As her pregnancy advanced, Lucy found that helping to nurse Russell, with all the fetching and carrying involved, was taking its toll on her strength. When she hinted as much to the Colonel he was immediately solicitous. He wanted to engage a full-time nurse but Russell refused to consider the idea. Instead, he struggled to do more for himself and became increasingly frustrated and bitter when he couldn’t manage. He was often short-tempered and usually it was Lucy who was the target for his acid comments.

  In November, when the weather turned wet and cold, Lucy found herself virtually a prisoner. Time dragged and she longed to visit Ruth or her mother, anything to escape the claustrophobia she felt at Walford Grange, but Russell wouldn’t hear of it. Dr Elwell had warned that the baby could arrive almost any time so Russell was determined that she should take every precaution.

  ‘This will be our only chance of a child,’ he reminded her.

  He was so obsessed by the idea of being a father that Lucy sometimes felt the baby meant more to him than she did. He seemed to be completely ignoring the fact that it might not be his child and she was filled with a premonition of disaster in case the baby was so obviously like Carlile that there would be no denying its parentage.

  Whenever the thought came into her mind, it was as if a cold hand gripped her heart and goosebumps would rash out on her arms, causing her to shiver violently.

  Lucy went into labour in mid-December. Outside, a film of snow covered the ground, and the atmosphere inside Walford Grange was almost as chilly.

  Mabel Sharp, despite her infirmities, was determined to assist Dr Elwell. She had been present when Russell was born and intended to help at the birth of his child even though Lucy was adamant that she should not.

  Russell wanted to stay with Lucy but Dr Elwell was opposed to the idea.

  ‘Just for a little while,’ Lucy begged, reaching out to grasp Russell’s hand as a fresh wave of pain seized her.

  ‘No, I am afraid he must wait outside, Lucy,’ Dr Elwell insisted firmly. He had already noticed the stricken pallor of Russell’s face and knew he was unnerved by what was happening.

  Jamie Russell Campbell was born at six that evening, a bouncing, sturdy eight-pound baby with a lusty cry. Lucy lay back on the pillows too exhausted to worry whether the baby was Russell’s or not. The tears that streamed down her face were not of guilt or remorse but thankfulness that her physical ordeal was over.

  Through a mist of tears, she studied the baby’s tiny features. As she saw the down of burnished bronzed hair a wave of relief and happiness swept through her. Her spirits soared. Even his hands, with their long slender fingers were replicas of Russell’s.

  As Kate and the Colonel pushed Russell’s wheelchair into the room there was no need for words as Lucy’s eyes met Russell’s and he saw the joy in their blue depths. The furrow that had become a permanent scar between his green eyes, lifted and a smile transformed his haggard look into one of boyish happiness.

  Cradling the baby in the crook of one arm, Lucy held out her other hand to Russell. As their fingers met, a tingle of excitement locked their grip. Then Russell leaned forward to gently stroke the baby’s soft downy head and trace the outline of cheek and chin.

  ‘Do you think he is like you?’ Lucy asked shyly.

  ‘Of course he is,’ he asserted proudly, smiling down at his son. ‘He has the Russell family’s features and hands.’

  ‘But has he the family birthmark?’ Mabel Sharp cackled.

  ‘Birthmark?’ Lucy met the challenge in the birdlike eyes fearlessly. ‘What birthmark, Nanny?’ With tremendous effort Lucy refused to flinch but stared back until the old woman looked away.

  ‘I’ll show it to you … if he has one, that is.’ Mabel Sharp bent over the baby and unwrapped the enveloping shawl. High on the inside of the baby’s thigh was a small brown smudge, almost like a crescent moon.

  Tears blurred Lucy’s eyes as she stared at it. When she looked up she found Mabel Sharp watching her, an inscrutable gleam in her narrowed eyes.

  ‘I think we should make this a double celebration,’ the Colonel declared, producing a bottle of vintage champagne. ‘Let’s drink to the new baby,’ he ordered, as he charged their glasses, ‘and to Russell’s future success.’ His eyes locked with Kate’s as he added, ‘I think it is high time I stepped down and left the management of the Estate to Russell.’

  ‘Hold on, a minute,’ Russell begged. ‘It might sound like a great idea to you but I don’t know a thing about farming …’

  ‘You’ll soon pick it up. I did,’ the Colonel assured him.

  ‘You knew something about farming and, even more to the point, you were interested in it. My only concern has been that there was a horse m the stables for me to ride. What is more, when you first took over, Grandfather was around to advise you!’

  ‘And you will have me on hand if you need any assistance,’ the Colonel boomed magnanimously.

  ‘Well, I hope so. I’ll need all the help I can get.’ He grinned widely. ‘They say things always come in threes, so raise your glasses again.’

  ‘What else is there to celebrate?’ Kate asked frowning.

  ‘Well, I’ve just become a father, I’ve just been handed a plum job for which I have no qualifications whatsoever and,’ he paused and looked round at them all, ‘I’ve just received a letter from the hospital giving me the results of the last set of tests and X-rays … They say it may take a long time but I will be able to walk again.’

  There was a moment of stunned silence then an outburst of excited chatter. Lucy felt ecstatically happy. For her, only one thing marred an otherwise perfect occasion, the fact that none of her own family were there.

  ‘Could one of you phone and tell my mother about the baby?’ she asked, looking first at Kate and then at the Colonel.

  ‘Good heavens!’ Robert Campbell looked at his watch. ‘Is that the time! We phoned your mother as soon as you went into labour. She was staying in London, with your sister. I’ve invited them all down for a few days and I must go and collect them from the station.’

  ‘But …’ tears blurred Lucy’s eyes. ‘We can’t have them here … Russell’s position …’

  ‘I’m a civilian now … remember,’ Russell told her, manoeuvring his chair closer to the bed. ‘Your mother, and your sister can visit us any time you want to see them. From now on, there is no protocol to worry about,’ he added with a twinkle in his green eyes, ‘we can even invite Gary Collins for a weekend!’
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  Lucy gave a sigh of sheer happiness. It was as if an unbearable burden had been removed. She raised her face to Russell’s and their lips met in a long and lingering kiss.

  ‘Thank you for my son,’ he murmured, huskily, as he gently stroked her damp hair back from her brow.

  ‘He is wonderful, isn’t he!’ She sighed contentedly. ‘We will have to watch out or he will be spoiled … like his father,’ she teased.

  ‘Not him. The eldest always has to take care of all the others,’ he told her, a meaningful twinkle in his green eyes.

  ‘I thought …?’

  ‘The doctor has said there is no reason why we couldn’t have a dozen more … should we want that many,’ he added hastily.

  As she lay back, she slid her hand underneath the pillow and her fingers curled round a newspaper cutting she had hidden there. It was a wedding photograph of Melany Buscombe and Carlile Randell. The caption stated that after their honeymoon in Paris they would be living in New Zealand.

  She had intended showing it to Russell. Now, as she looked down at the baby sleeping peacefully at her side, she knew there was no need to do so. Every phantom had been quelled. Carlile was out of her life forever, Russell was going to walk again and she was free to mix with her own family whenever she wished.

  ‘Jamie Russell Campbell, you are one of the luckiest babies in the world. You have a charmed life ahead of you,’ she whispered happily as she gazed down at the baby sleeping contentedly in the cot alongside her bed.