Previously…

She began to cry and all I could do was cuddle her. I was numb and totally shocked by her revelation. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and she was shuddering violently. Dimly, I was aware of some alarms jangling and within seconds, the room was full of staff and I was bundled hurriedly out of the room. Abby, standing by Trevor, saw my face and immediately came and embraced me. Shortly afterwards, I found myself in a waiting room with Abby sitting by me, hugging me tightly.

It appears that Olivia had had a severe stroke and was in a coma. Marcia arrived shortly afterwards and after a quick hug, she went to see what was going on. My brain ached with all that had gone on and what I had been told. I could not believe what Nigel had done to Olivia and I hoped sincerely that he would rot in hell. Sadly, Olivia suffered through being the daughter of a perverted and repellent father, so no way could I find it in my heart to blame her for what she did.

Thirty minutes later, Marcia came in and sat beside me. Immediately, I understood from her solemn expression that her news was not good.

‘Sam, I’m so very sorry, my dear; she’s gone–’

And now the story continues…

As I stared at Olivia’s face –at peace at last–I wondered if she had gone to heaven. I believed in heaven, but that doesn’t mean that, at times like this, you wonder if it is all real or just a figment of the imagination? For some bizarre reason I thought of Karl Marx and how he’s oft quoted: Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people. That might have been the reality for him, but I could never understand his rather bleak point of view.

I held her cold lifeless hand–the hand that had once caressed me, a long time ago seemingly, but in truth not that long. Olivia believed that there was something out there, shaping our lives and thoughts but she didn’t know quite who or what that was.

Why was I thinking of religion at a time like this? I don’t know, perhaps because birth and death are so important and one wonders why we are here sometimes and what is the point of it all?

Then there was Nigel, why did he die? Was it just his criminal past catching up with him or did he come to a sticky end at the hands of some lover? The mere fact that he was naked on the bed where he met his end might suggest a lovers’ quarrel, but I was not entirely sure if people did get stabbed in bed after such a quarrel: there wouldn’t be many people left in the world if it was a frequent occurrence.

Too many questions and no answers.

She looked peaceful lying there, almost asleep. She had a slight smile playing on her lips as if she had just heard a rather naughty joke. I hoped that she didn’t suffer and I was glad that I had, to some degree, made my peace with her. I kissed her on her cold forehead and whispered goodbye in her ear.

After one last sad look, I left the room and went slowly out into the corridor. Glancing at my friends sitting there, I smiled sadly, realising that I had found more friendship here than poor Olivia had ever had. It was sad that she no longer had anyone. I would be there for her on the final steps that led to her resting place. I would ask David if he could find a space for her in the churchyard at St Petroc’s. At least here she would be away from the heartache of her previous existence, and her daughter would be able to visit when she was old enough–

Her daughter! How could I forget?

I sat on a seat with Abby holding me. One advantage of being a woman is that you aren’t expected to hold back when showing emotion. I was grieving–grieving for a life wasted and never really fulfilled and worried about a young life struggling to come into a world that she wasn’t yet ready for. It was all getting rather too much and I decided I had to get some air. Seeing the concerned faces, through the pain, I managed somehow to smile.

‘It’s all right; I’m not going all loopy on you, it’s just that I need to think, so I’d like to go for a walk, on my own. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid, I just want some peace and quiet to think things over. Abby, would you sort out the–the arrangements and everything with David, I just couldn’t face it at the moment.’

‘Of course I could, love; don’t worry, we’ll sort everything out.’ She squeezed my arm and looked so concerned for me. How could I tell her how much I love her?

I kissed her on her soft lips and just whispered, ‘I love you so much.’

‘I know and I couldn’t be without you.’

We gazed into each other’s eyes and I knew that there was not anyone else in the world that I would rather be with. With Olivia it had been an infatuation–with Abby it was unreserved love.

I hugged David, Jocasta and Marcia and just walked off down the long corridor on my own, my heels clicking on the green linoleum. The receptionist didn’t say anything as I left and for that I was grateful.

I blinked in the bright afternoon sunshine. The hospital was on a hill overlooking the cove and I could see far out to sea from here. Small hospitals like this–the lifeblood of the community, were getting rarer now and there was talk of closing the A&E¹ department. Dotty Fairbairn was on the committee, protesting about closure plans and I thought that if anyone could stop that nonsense, she would.

Wandering slowly down the road, I somehow found myself turning left at the sign for the Coastal Path. After a few minutes’ stroll along a leafy lane, I came to a stile with a small sign nearby, once again showing the way to the Coastal Path.

I climbed over the stile and after a short amble through some woodland, I came across the path. As I sauntered along I pondered all that had happened to me in the short time that I had lived at this idyllic place: like the way I had found it using the “dubious digit” method. Then being picked up by David and Jocasta after getting a soaking up on the moor; I recalled the warmness I felt when they did their Samaritan thing and opened their home and their hearts to me.

Then there was Abby–who had become the centre of my life in such a short time. I would marry her–if she would have me. My life had improved immeasurably since I had been with her and I know she felt the same as me. Our love for each other was gentle warm and fulfilling. I couldn’t imagine being without her and I smiled at thought of cuddling up to her at night for the rest of our lives.

I know I should have felt some guilt about Olivia, but strangely, I didn’t; however I did feel sorrow for her and the waste of her young life. Her father had been a beast to her and that had made her what she was. I could not put aside, and indeed didn’t want to put aside, the times, some of them very good, others rather awful, while we were together; but she made her choices even if those choices were wrong. I really don’t think, looking back, that she had ever grown up. Despite everything that her shit of a father did to her, she still had her chances to break away, but never did. To the end, I still feel that she loved her father in spite of everything he had done to her and that, above all, he caused her downfall and ultimate death.

I sat on a bench and gazed down over the cove. The sun was reflected on the water; a sea that was for the moment tranquil and calm. Like life, the tranquillity can change in an instant and become a roaring maelstrom–rather like my life at the moment. The trees whispered in the breeze and seagulls made their usual cacophony as they wheeled around the place I was so happy to call my home. As I looked down on the cottages and houses below with the brightly coloured walls and roofs, I wondered if the lives of those inside bore any resemblance to mine. Penmarris had been a village for centuries and there must have been many births, marriages and deaths here in this little slice of life on the Devon shore. How many dramas took place behind those walls over the years? This had been a haven for smugglers in the none too distant past and I could imagine the women folk waiting at the windows for their men to come back, but sometimes waiting in vain.

Even now, the fishing fleet–small though it was–went out in all weathers trying to bring home a catch despite crippling quotas, just so they could put food on the table and a roof over the heads of their family. It was a dangerous occupation and one that was reflected on the gravestones in St Petroc’s pretty churchyard. I also thought about the brave lifeboat crew, continually risking their lives by setting sail in the foulest of weather conditions to save those in peril on the sea.

My thoughts returned to Olivia; one of the reasons we never made it as a couple was that Olivia appeared to not want children, and then, using some of my sperm, she did a complete U-turn and became pregnant. Was it my baby? Did she tell me the truth in the more or less death-bed confession she made to me?

I thought about the tiny wee bundle struggling for life back at the hospital. I wondered if I would make a good parent and whether or not Abby would accept the baby. Knowing her, I was sure she would.

Somehow, I didn’t really feel connected to the child; it was all so sudden and shocking–the events of the last twenty four hours. I kept on going over and over in my mind, everything that had happened and whether I had done anything that could have caused all these terrible happenings to occur. Would Olivia still be alive now if we had never met? I would never know and banging my head against the “what if” wall would not help anyone at the moment, least of all the baby.

It was getting cooler now as the sun did its usual trick of dropping towards the horizon. Shivering slightly, I decided to return to the hospital before a search party was sent out for me, or it got too dark for me to see. I wasn’t sure that Abby trusted my sanity at the moment–probably quite wise in the circumstances.

Half an hour later, I strode back into the hospital. In the waiting room sat Abby–she was asleep in the chair–and the poor dear was probably as tired as me because we hadn’t had much sleep lately. I sat down beside her and, putting my head against her shoulder wakened her.

‘Hello, love, are you all right?’ She yawned.

‘Not too bad; everyone gone then?’

‘Yes, Marcia has to do her surgery and David and Jo are sorting out their girls–tea and everything, you know, usual family stuff. David’s going to sort out the funeral and Katie’s getting the legal side sorted out. She thinks that it’s going to be a complicated mess, but she enjoys a challenge and will do her best.’

‘Where’s…Olivia?’

‘They’ve taken her away somewhere. They don’t need to do a post-mortem, it having been a natural death and they know she died as a result of the stroke, so that’s a blessing. As far as I know, David has arranged for the undertakers to pick her up and then the funeral can be sorted out. There’s nothing for you worry about, except––’

–the baby.’ I finished, ‘It’s strange that I feel sorry for her but don’t feel any sort of bond.’

‘That’s understandable under the circumstances. What’re you going to do?’

I looked at her concerned face.

‘Shall we go and see her?’ I said, avoiding answering question.

‘All right, I’m getting fed up with the sight of this place.’

We went along to the baby IC unit and after a few minutes, we were let in.

As before, the baby was in an incubator, she looked so tiny and vulnerable lying there with all those nasty tubes going into her. The beep, beep of the machine seemed to be going rather fast, but as the nurse didn’t seem too concerned, I expected that all this was fairly normal.

I knew that I had to be her parent; Olivia had sort of laid that on me. I could have asked for a blood test, but I decided not to. I would like to believe that, in the final instant, Olivia was telling the truth about using my sperm. The little girl would grow up without any ambiguity as to whom her parents were and would be told the truth when she was old enough to understand.

‘You can touch her, if you like,’ the nurse said as she watched us with amused eyes, ‘she’s not nearly as fragile as she looks.’

Abby and I stood on either side of the incubator and looked at one another. Without saying anything else, we opened the sides of the incubator and put our hands inside. The frail little mite seemed to notice that she wasn’t alone and her tiny hands were opening and shutting. I put my little finger in one hand and Abby did the same with the other. The wee soul grasped our fingers surprisingly tightly and she appeared to stop fidgeting. She looked at me and I swear she knew who I was and then she looked at Abby and smiled.

My heart literally melted and, with tears blurring my vision, I gazed at Abby who gazed at me in return.

‘Do you like our baby?’ I asked.

‘I love our baby,’ Abby replied through her tears. ‘Have you thought about a name?’

‘Heather–it was was my mother’s name.’

‘Heather it is.’ said Abby smiling.

‘Aaaw,’ said the nurse sniffing, ‘isn’t that sweet!’

____________________
¹     A&E–Accident and Emergency = ER in the US

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.