The Blackmail Pregnancy (14 page)

She couldn’t wait for Byron to get home. She tried calling his mobile, but it kept switching straight through to the message service. She kept looking at the clock as the evening drew to a close, but the driveway outside stayed empty and the telephone stubbornly silent.

The clock had finally crawled around to ten p.m. when the phone suddenly rang, startling her so much that she stared at it for several rings before moving across the room to lift the receiver.

‘Cara?’ Byron’s voice spoke over the beeps, indicating it was a long-distance call.

‘Byron? Where are you? I’ve been waiting for—’

‘I’m sorry, honey. I tried to ring you several times but the line was engaged. I’m in Melbourne.’

‘Melbourne?’
Her hand on the receiver tightened. Couldn’t he last even one day without flying back to his family?

She heard him sigh, and then in the background the sound of voices in lowered tones.

‘My father has had a heart attack,’ he said heavily. ‘I’m at the hospital. I caught the first flight I could.’

‘Is…is he all right?’ Somehow she managed to get the question out past the shocked oval of her mouth.

‘He is now, but it was touch and go there for a while. He’s having bypass surgery later this week.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘Shall I fly down?’

‘No.’ His tone was definite. ‘That won’t be necessary. There are already too many of us here as it is. The charge sister has sent each of us packing every chance she gets, but we keep drifting back in to support my mother.’

‘She must be so worried.’

‘She’s being very brave, but I think I might need to stay here for a few days and hold the fort. Would you mind?’

‘Of course I don’t mind!’ she insisted. ‘Byron, I wanted to tell you something—’

‘Honey, the doctor’s just arrived; I’ve got to go. I’ll call you in the morning, OK? Love you.’

‘I love—’ The phone clicked off before she could finish the sentence she most wanted to say.

She sat despondently on the nearest sofa, her legs folding with shock at Byron’s news.

It was hard to imagine his father lying in a hospital bed, having so narrowly brushed past death’s door. She knew how sick with worry the whole family would be. Her thoughts flew to Fliss, so recently delivered of a child, hit with such dreadful news. She thought of Byron’s mother, her soft face pretending not to be overly concerned for the sake of everyone else when inside she was crumbling. She recalled the conversation she’d had with Jan the day of the party, when she’d told her of the child she’d lost thirty-eight years ago, of the way she’d soldiered on nursing her grief. She thought of Byron’s nieces and nephews, their little faces frightened and uncertain at the hushed voices and silent tears.

Cara realised with a sharp arrow of awareness that she wanted to be with them. She wanted to be in the midst of them to offer her own warmth. She wanted to feel with them, to listen and to console. She wanted to help Byron through this difficult time, to show him how much she loved his family. He was right—they were her family now, the only family she had ever really known.

She reached for the telephone, but the last flight of the evening had already closed. Disappointment ripped through her until she almost felt sick to her stomach with it. She even considering going out to the car and driving all night to get there, but decided against it. She would wait for Byron’s call in the morning and tell him of her decision to join him as soon as possible.

When the sun came up she crawled out of the big bed and got to her feet, but suddenly the room began to tilt alarmingly—the Persian rug at her feet swirling before her eyes in a sickening vortex and making her feel as if she were going to be sucked right down into it and disappear into nothingness. She made a futile grab for the bedside lamp, to anchor herself, but it came with her to the floor, splintering into a thousand pieces to lie around her unconscious form…

The telephone was ringing. It was ringing inside her head. No—it was ringing on the bedside table on the other side of the bed, Cara realised as she opened her eyes, trying to make sense of why she was on the floor surrounded by broken pieces of lamp-base.

By the time she got to the phone it had stopped ringing and she wondered if she’d imagined it. Had she fainted? She’d never fainted in her life! Perhaps it was the shock of Byron’s father’s illness, she rationalised as she reached for her bathrobe. A sudden wave of nausea tilted her stomach and she flopped back on the bed in case she fell once more.

When she thought it was safe to do so she got to her feet, tested her balance for a moment, and carefully stepped towards the bathroom.

She felt better after a shower, but only just. She couldn’t understand why she had to be ill right now, when she wanted to be of help to Byron and his family.

The telephone sounded just as she was reaching for a pair of jeans.

‘Cara?’ Byron’s tone sounded clipped and impatient. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been calling on and off for the last thirty minutes.’

‘I…’ It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she’d fainted when she remembered he was already going through enough worry about his father without her adding to it. ‘I was having a shower.’

‘You can still hear the phone in the shower.’

‘I…I had the radio on,’ she said quickly. ‘How is your father?’

‘He’s holding on.’

‘You sound tired.’

‘So do you.’

She smiled ruefully.

‘I had a terrible night.’

‘I miss you,’ he said.

Her heart squeezed in her chest.

‘I miss you too.’

There was a small silence.

‘I want you to come down,’ he said. ‘I can’t stand to be apart from you—especially now.’

‘I’ll get on the next flight.’

‘You don’t mind?’ he asked, sounding surprised.

‘I want to be there.’

‘Cara?’

‘Yes?’

She heard him sigh.

‘Nothing. It can wait till you get here.’

‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

Cara got up from where she’d been sitting on the bed, but the room rolled until she had no choice but to sit down once more. She took a few deep, steadying breaths and tried again, but as soon as she got to her feet the walls of the bedroom began to close in on her as if they were made of fabric. She sat back down and clutched the edge of the bed to steady herself as she tried to make sense of it. Why this and why now?

Her eyes turned towards the telephone. She needed to see a doctor. A doctor would soon sort this out, tell her if she was imagining it or if indeed she had caught some mysterious sort of bug.

She called the nearest medical practice, but the earliest appointment was at two in the afternoon. She took it, reassuring herself that it still left her plenty of time to catch a flight to Melbourne.

She caught a taxi to the appointment, not trusting her ability to drive, even though her dizziness had eased as the day progressed.

Dr Shelley smiled at her across the desk.

‘What seems to be the problem?’

‘I fainted this morning,’ Cara said, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

‘Did you hurt yourself?’

‘No, but I need to fly to Melbourne this afternoon and I wanted to make sure nothing was wrong. I’ve never fainted before.’

‘Any other symptoms?’ Dr Shelley asked, reaching for the blood pressure cuff.

‘I feel a bit sick.’

‘Have you vomited?’

Cara shook her head as the doctor pumped up the cuff on her arm.

‘I haven’t actually been game enough to eat. The thought of food turns my stomach.’

‘Your blood pressure is a bit low, but nothing to be worried about.’ Dr Shelley undid the cuff and laid her stethoscope down. ‘We’ll check for pregnancy first, and work our way backwards.’

‘Pregnancy?’ Cara gasped. ‘I can’t possibly be pregnant!’

Dr Shelley looked at her across the table.

‘No chance at all?’

Cara told her briefly about the accident.

‘It’s still worth checking. The human body has a weird habit of surprising us at times. You say you’ve been taking a low-dose pill to regulate your periods?’

Cara nodded.

‘Ever missed a dose?’

‘Once or twice.’

‘Roll up your sleeve and I’ll take some blood. Pregnancy test kits are best performed early in the morning. This way we can accurately measure the hormone levels and find out for sure.’

‘How soon will it be before I get the results?’ Cara asked, sitting on the edge of her seat.

Dr Shelley glanced at the clock on the wall.

‘First thing tomorrow.’

‘But I was hoping to fly to—’

‘Is someone going with you?’

‘No.’

‘Can it wait until tomorrow?’ the doctor asked. ‘The blood tests I’ve run will tell us more. Perhaps you shouldn’t travel until you know for sure, just in case it’s an infection of some sort.’

Cara left the surgery in a daze. She couldn’t bear to harbour the thought of being pregnant in case it proved to be a simple virus after all. Her disappointment would be even more crushing if she were to allow herself to hope even for the next few hours…

‘What do you mean, you can’t get a flight?’ Byron’s voice when she called him on his mobile was sharp.

She hated lying, but how could she tell him what she was dealing with until she knew for sure?

‘Every flight is fully booked.’

‘Every airline?’

‘I’ve tried the two major ones.’

He swore violently. ‘Damn it, Cara, I need you here.’

‘I want to be there too, but I can’t—’

‘Are you sure you really want to?’ A hint of cynicism entered his tone. ‘Maybe you’re having second thoughts?’

‘Byron, you know I want—’

‘I know what you want,’ he bit out. ‘You want to get out of my life, don’t you?’

‘Of course I don’t!’ she protested.

‘Then prove it. Come down tonight. Surely they have standby?’

‘I’ll do my best,’ she said, knowing there was no way she was going to leave Sydney without knowing the results of that blood test.

She went back to the surgery the following morning.

‘You’d better sit down,’ Dr Shelley said as Cara followed her into the office.

‘Is it bad?’ she asked, instantly imagining some sort of incurable disease.

‘Depends on how you look at it.’

‘Am I dying?’

Dr Shelley shook her head, her tone lightly teasing when she said, ‘No, the pregnancy mortality rate is thankfully very low these days. I think we can safely bring you to term this time around.’

Cara blinked at her vapidly.

‘You’re pregnant, Cara.’ Dr Shelley smiled. ‘Only a couple of weeks or so, but very definitely pregnant.’

Cara sat in silent stupefaction. It was a long time before she could speak.

‘I’m really pregnant? It’s not some sort of mistake?’

Dr Shelley nodded and handed her the pathology form with her blood results.

Cara stared at it, fully expecting it to say something entirely different, but there it was in black and white.

She lifted her astonished face to look at the doctor once more.

‘I can’t believe it.’ Her eyes went back to the results in her shaking hands. ‘I was told I was infertile.’

‘Who told you?’

Cara thought back to that dreadful time. She’d been so ill and dazed after losing Emma. She was sure one of the registrars had mentioned her internal injuries being so bad that a future pregnancy was out of the question—but then she’d been so out of it after the delivery maybe she’d heard incorrectly. Then she recalled how her mother had insisted what she had heard was indeed true, latching on to it, using it at every opportunity to bring her down even further.

‘Not a real woman any more! No one will want you now. You and I are the same—no one wants us.’
Her mother’s words reverberated inside her head until she finally blocked them out to look at the doctor once more.

‘I must have misunderstood. I thought the registrar said I couldn’t get pregnant again.’

‘Perhaps he meant straight away?’ Dr Shelley suggested. ‘Your body needed time to recover.’

‘Yes.’ Cara clutched at the explanation gratefully. ‘That’s what he must have meant.’

‘Come and see me in a month, and we’ll organise an ultrasound so you can meet your baby for the first time.’

‘Am I safe to fly to Melbourne now?’

Dr Shelley smiled.

‘Go home and pack. You can go wherever you want.’

Cara left the surgery as if she was walking on air. She couldn’t believe it! She was pregnant with Byron’s child! She couldn’t wait to see his face when he heard the news. He’d be beside himself with the joy she was already feeling, welling up inside her until she was sure she would burst with it.

She called an airline and booked the next available flight. The operator informed her there wasn’t a seat available until seven that evening, but in her state of exhilaration she didn’t care—as long as she got there to be with Byron in person when she told him her exciting news.

Once she got back to Cremorne she dragged a suitcase from the top of the wardrobe and began packing, not even bothering to fold a single item, tossing in everything she thought she might need and zipping it up with fingers so shaky with emotion she had to make three attempts to secure the overstuffed bag.

She was just hauling it down the last couple of steps of the staircase when the front door suddenly opened and Byron stood there, his expression thunderous as the door shut behind him with an ominous clunk.

‘Going somewhere?’ His voice cut through the air like knives.

‘Byron!’ She took the last step towards him, but the bag caught behind her, the zip straining as it dragged against the banister before it finally gave up the fight and the contents burst forth to land haphazardly around his feet.

His eyes ran over what appeared to be the entire contents of her wardrobe before returning to laser hers.

‘I thought as much.’ He kicked a lacy pair of her panties from his shiny black leather encased foot with such disdain that Cara’s heart missed a beat. ‘I thought this was what you’d be up to: running away again while my back is turned.’