Lucy Gordon - His Pretend Wife

‘Andrew, please listen to me,’ she screamed. ‘Let me explain-’

‘Explain what? You never really wanted to marry me, did you, Ellie? Now I understand. After you’d made a fool of me there was nowhere else to take it. The trouble is I never had much sense of humour, although with you-’ He checked, and a spasm of pain went over his face. ‘Well, a lot of things were different with you.’

She’d flinched to see hate in his eyes, but now there was something far more terrible than hate. Disillusion.

‘I apologise for wasting so much of your time,’ he said politely, ‘and also for boring you. I won’t do so any longer. I wish you every happiness for the future. Good day to you.’

He walked out with a face of stone.

The following month she ran away to London with Jack Smith. They had a hurried marriage in a shabby register office and after that, as Andrew had foretold, she found herself supporting him. From then on nothing went right for her.

Elinor had awaited the call for so long that when it came one evening she didn’t, at first, take it in.

‘What-what did you say?’

‘This is the Burdell Hospital. We have a heart which would seem to be suitable for your daughter.’

‘You’ve got-?’

‘I must caution you not to get your hopes up too high. We need to do some final tests before a decision can be made, but an ambulance is heading for you, so will you-?’

Elinor barely heard the rest. Tears of relief poured down her face. She was shaking so hard that she could hardly move, but she forced herself to be calm as she went to find Hetta, even managing a brilliant smile as she called out, ‘All right, darling, we’re on our way.’

‘Really, Mummy? ’Cos last time-’

‘I know,’ Elinor said quickly. This had happened twice before and their hopes had soared, but in the end the operation hadn’t been possible. ‘Let’s just cross our fingers.’

In no time at all the ambulance was at the door. The news had spread through the boarding house and everyone who was at home came to wave them off. Daisy flapped about like a mother hen, pouring out concern and criticism alike.

‘Call me as soon as you know anything, love. Night or day. Jerry, I hope you went to the Job Centre, today. How are you, my pet? Have you got everything? Where’s Samson?’

‘Here,’ Hetta said, producing a disreputable object that had started life as a bear.

‘That’s fine, then. Elinor, you tell me if there’s anything I can do for you. Anything at all.’

During the short journey to the hospital she and Hetta held hands tightly. There were no words for their shared thoughts, but they didn’t need words. And then they were there, and nurses were coming to meet them, smiling, looking hopeful.

Cling to that hope, she thought. Don’t think about the other chance.

There were questions to answer. A nurse took Hetta’s temperature, which was normal. Her current state of health was good.

Except that she’s dying.

‘I know Sir Elmer hasn’t been well,’ Elinor said. ‘Is he back yet?’

‘No, it’ll be Mr Blake doing this. He’s on his way in now.’

‘Can I be with Hetta?’

‘Just another few minutes while we finish the tests, then I’ll take you in. If you could just wait here-’

That was the worst. Waiting. Walking up and down in the featureless waiting room, trying to look into the future and seeing only a blank. Up and down. Back and forth. Look out of the window into the darkness. Watch her own face shadowed in the window, then the door opening, and another presence in the room. A handsome man in a dinner jacket and black bowtie, who’d obviously been called away from a pleasant evening.

‘Have you got the answer yet?’ she demanded harshly, swinging around to face him. ‘Can you do it?’

‘I’ll be getting the results in a minute,’ Andrew said. ‘But please try not to worry.’

‘Try not to worry,’ she echoed in anguish. ‘Do you know how many doctors have said that to me, and how little it means?’

‘I can imagine.’

‘This has happened before. Twice. The first time they called us and we rushed to the hospital, but when we got there they’d decided to give it to someone else.’

‘That means your daughter was strong enough to stand the wait and the other child wasn’t,’ Andrew said quietly.

‘I know. I rationalised it all the way home. So did Hetta. She’s so grown up, and she shouldn’t have to be. She kept saying, “Never mind, Mummy. There’s next time.” And three months later it happened again. This time there was no other candidate but there was a delay in getting the heart there, and by the time it arrived it was unusable. Has the heart arrived yet?’

‘No.’

Her voice rose. ‘Then it could happen again?’

‘Not a chance. It’s only coming a few miles.’

‘But when it gets here you’ve got to test it and there might be something wrong-’

‘Very unlikely. The other hospital does its own tests and we only hear about the heart when they’re satisfied. Mrs. Landers, I know this is very hard, but I’m sure it was explained to you that these false dawns are, sadly, very common. I have patients who were called in five times before all the conditions were right for them. But it did happen in the end. They had successful transplants and now they’re healthy. Hetta’s chances are still good.’

‘Are they? She’s a child, they’re much harder to match.’ Elinor gave a wan smile. ‘You see how much I’ve had time to learn.’

‘I know,’ he said, speaking gently. ‘I know. But please try not to think the worst. I promise you, things are looking hopeful.’

She searched his face to see if he were merely comforting her, but there was only a kindly professional mask. She swung away to the window, trying to sort out her impressions. He still gave no sign of remembering her, and she was glad of it. Only Hetta mattered. She took a deep breath and turned back. She had her ghosts under control now, and they wouldn’t be allowed to threaten the future.

A nurse looked in and handed Andrew some papers. They must be the test results, Elinor thought, her heart almost stopping with fear. He studied them, gave a grunt, then looked up.

‘Splendid!’ he said. ‘Now we can get on.’

‘You mean-’

‘The heart’s in excellent condition, and all Hetta’s test results are good. We’re cleared for take-off.’

She gave a gasp, pressing her hands over her mouth to fight back the sob of relief, and turned away. Her chest was heaving silently and she kept her back to him until she had herself under control. When she looked around he was gone.

THE nurse gave Elinor a kindly smile. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Good news can be just as shattering as bad. Now I’ll take you to her.’

Hetta was waiting on a trolley. She smiled and held out her arms to Elinor, and they hugged each other.

‘It’s really it, this time,’ she said.

‘Yes, this time.’

‘Geronimo!’

‘Geronimo!’

Elinor tried to sound strong but the word must have come out wonkier than she meant, because Hetta gave a small frown of concern.

‘It’s all right, Mummy.’ Her voice became severe. ‘Stop worrying.’

‘Who’s worrying?’

‘You are. You always fret about things, and it’s going to be all right.’

‘Of course it is,’ Elinor said firmly.

‘Of course it is,’ said a voice over her head.

Andrew was standing there, still in his dinner jacket, looking as cheerful and unconcerned as a man about to embark on a social evening. ‘I’m Andrew,’ he told Hetta, holding out his hand to her. ‘We met once before.’

‘Oh, yes. You looked different then.’ She shook his hand, eyeing his expensive dinner jacket. ‘You weren’t prettied up like now.’

One of the nurses grunted with laughter, but it died under his gaze.

‘Did I take you away from something nice?’ Hetta asked, like a polite little old lady.

‘No, something very boring that I was glad to get out of. It wasn’t as important as you.’

‘Will my op take very long?’

‘It’ll be as fast as I can make it, but you won’t know anything. It’s a doddle, you know. I do them all the time. Now, are you all ready?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

Hetta smiled, and the look she gave him was full of trust and confidence.

It’s the sedation, Elinor thought. It’s relaxing her already.

But she knew it was more than that. A transformation had come over Andrew. His stiffness had fallen away, leaving behind a friendly, informal man, with nothing to do but make a little girl feel happy.

‘Who’s this?’ he asked, indicating the furry bear. ‘A friend of yours?’

‘He’s Samson. We’ve always been together.’

‘Then he’s a very important bear, and he should stay with you,’ Andrew said solemnly, tucking the sheet about the two of them as he spoke. ‘Keep him safe.’

Hetta giggled, and Elinor sent silent thanks to Andrew for what he was doing. However all this had come about, Hetta was in the right hands.

The nurses were beginning to wheel the trolley away. Elinor followed, her hand clasped in her child’s. There was so much she wanted to say, but Hetta’s eyelids were already drooping. All too soon they reached the doors through which Hetta must go and she could not, to a place from which she might never return.

‘Love you, darling.’

‘Love you, Mummy. Night, night.’

The doors opened, the corridor swallowed her up. She was gone. Suddenly Elinor was full of fear. She had longed for this moment, and now it was here she faced the reality she’d avoided before. She might never see Hetta alive again. This was make or break.

‘Oh, God!’ she whispered. ‘Hetta-Hetta-’

‘You’ve done everything for her that you can,’ Andrew said. He’d been walking behind them. ‘Now you have to trust someone else.’