Lucy Gordon - And the Bride Wore Red

‘We must never give up hope,’ Lang persisted. ‘Don’t you know that whatever happens some day, somehow, we must be together?’

‘I want to think so, but how can we? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, perhaps always.’

‘However long it is,’ he said, taking her hands between his, ‘it will happen at last. There will be nobody else for me. So in the end we must find each other again, because otherwise I shall spend all my life alone. Now I’ve known you, there could never be anyone else.’

‘You make it sound so simple,’ she said huskily.

‘No, I make it sound possible, because it is. That’s why I want you to take this.’

He drew out a small box and placed it in her hands. Opening it, Olivia saw a brooch in the shape of a dainty, silver butterfly: the sign of eternal love and lifelong fidelity.

‘I bought it yesterday, when I was gone for that time,’ he said. ‘I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give it to you, but I never thought it would be like this. Wear it and never forget that we belong together.’

‘I will wear it always,’ she promised.

Overhead a loudspeaker blared.

‘They’re calling your flight,’ he said. ‘Goodbye-for now.’

‘For now,’ she repeated.

He took her into his arms. ‘Remember me,’ he begged.

‘Always. Just a few more moments…’ She kissed him again and again.

‘You must go-you must go.’ But still he held onto her.

The call came again.

‘Oh, God, it’s so far away!’ she wept. ‘When will we see each other again?’

‘We will,’ he said fiercely. ‘Somehow we’ll find a way. We must hold onto that thought.’

But even as he said it there were tears on his cheeks, and now she could see that his despair was as great as her own.

The crowd was moving now, carrying her away from him. In agony she watched him grow smaller, fading, until the distance seemed to swallow him up and only his hand was still visible, faintly waving.

The flight from Shanghai to London was thirteen hours. During the interminable time Olivia drifted in and out of sleep, pursued by uneasy dreams. Norah was there sometimes, laughing and strong as in the old days, then lying still. Lang was there too, his face anguished as he bid her farewell.

She managed to get a little restless sleep, but it was tormented by ghosts. There was Norah, as she’d seen her on-screen only a few hours ago, looking dismayed at the thought of the flight to China. Now Olivia realised that she hadn’t imagined it. Norah had known she wasn’t well, and she’d hidden it.

From beneath her closed eyes, tears streamed down Olivia’s face.

Jack was waiting for her at the airport, his face haggard.

‘She’s in Intensive Care,’ he said. ‘She was alive when I left her an hour ago, but she’s bad, really bad.’

‘Then I’ll get there fast.’

‘Shall I take your bags home with me?’ he offered. ‘I expect you’ll want to move into Norah’s place.’

Until that moment it hadn’t dawned on her that she had nowhere to go. She thanked him and hurried to the hospital.

Once there, she ran the last few steps to Intensive Care, her fear mounting. A nurse rose to meet her, smiling reassurance.

‘It’s all right,’ she said kindly. ‘She’s still alive.’

Alive, but only just. Olivia approached the bed slowly, horrified at the sight of the old woman lying as still as death attached to a multitude of tubes.

‘Norah,’ Olivia said urgently, hurrying to the side of the bed. ‘It’s me. Can you hear me?’

The nurse produced a chair for her, saying, ‘I’m afraid she’s been like that since she was brought in.’

‘But she will come round soon, surely?’ Olivia pleaded.

‘We must hope so,’ the nurse said gently.

Olivia leaned close to Norah. It was hard to see her face through the tubes attached to aid her breathing, but the deathly pallor of her skin was frighteningly clear. She seemed thinner than before, more fragile and lined. How could she have gone away from Norah knowing that she was so frail?

But she hadn’t known, because Norah had been determined to prevent her knowing. During their talks she’d laughed and chatted, apparently without a care in the world, because to her nothing had mattered but that Olivia should be free to go out and explore.

Now she was dying, perhaps without regaining consciousness, and she might never know that the person she’d loved most had returned to her.

‘I’m sorry,’ Olivia said huskily. ‘I shouldn’t have stayed away so long. Oh, darling, you did so much for me and I wasn’t there for you.’

Norah’s hands were lying still on the sheet. Olivia took hold of one between both of hers, hoping by this means to get through to her, but there was no reaction. Nothing. Norah didn’t know she was there, and might never know.

‘Please,’ Olivia begged. ‘Don’t die without talking to me. Please !’

But Norah lay so still that she might already have been dead, and the only sound was the steady rhythm of the machines

Olivia laid her head down on the bed in an attitude of despair.

SHE must have lain there for an hour, holding Norah’s hand and praying desperately for a miracle.

When it finally came it was the tiniest, most fragile of miracles, just a faint squeeze, but it was enough to make Olivia weep. Somehow, through the dark mists, Norah had sensed her. She must believe that. She must-she must.

She awoke to the feeling of someone shaking her shoulder.

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I didn’t mean to go to sleep, but jet lag…’

‘I know,’ the nurse said sympathetically. ‘Do you mind waiting outside while we attend to her?’

Olivia almost sleepwalked into the corridor and sat down, leaning back against the wall, exhausted. Inside her head there was a howling wilderness of grief, desolation and confusion. It felt as though that was all there would ever be again.

She forced herself to think clearly. She should call her mother.

Melisande answered at once. As briefly as possible, Olivia explained what had happened and that she was at the hospital.

‘Norah could die at any moment. How long will it take you to get here?’

‘Get there? Oh, darling, I don’t think-Besides, she’s got you. Since you went to China she’s talked about nothing else. You’re the one she wants. Keep in touch.’

She hung up quickly.

Well, what else did I expect ? Olivia asked herself bitterly.

The nurse appeared, signalling for her to come back in.

‘She’s opened her eyes,’ she said. ‘She’ll be glad to see you.’

Norah’s eyes were just half-open, but they lit up at the sight of Olivia.

‘You came,’ she whispered.

‘Of course I came.’

Norah closed her eyes again, seemingly content. Olivia sat there, holding her hand for another hour until the nurse touched her on the shoulder.

‘You should go home and get some rest. She’s stable now. Give me your number and I’ll call you if anything changes.’

Norah’s apartment was dark and chilly. Olivia stared at her suitcases which Jack had left there for her. She knew that she should make an effort to unpack, but it was too much.

With all her heart she yearned for Lang, yearned for his voice, his comforting presence, the feel of his body close to hers. He was so far away-not just in miles but in everything that counted. Suddenly it seemed impossible that she would ever see him again.

She began to wander aimlessly around the apartment, trying to understand the depths of her isolation. Less than twenty-four hours ago she’d been the happiest woman on earth. Now the ugly silence sang in her ears, perhaps for ever.