I waited all day, hoping he would call and we could chat, but I waited in vain. And there was no call the next day or the next. It was on the Wednesday morning, when I woke up, that I received the text.
“Hope you’ve got Skype and the webcam set up. I will call you about 7:00pm your time”
I was nervous. Had I installed the software and the webcam correctly? Why was he being mysterious?
Just after seven that evening, my computer told me I had a Skype call waiting. I accepted it, but it wasn’t Oliver. I was more surprised when I recognised Eleanor and she was beaming. “Hello Rusty,” she almost sang. “I’ve just had some marvellous news and I wanted to tell you personally. When we visited the hospital yesterday, the doctors said they were going to let Harold come out of the coma. They’ve done a scan and the wound is healing well. Isn’t that marvellous?” Before I could answer, she continued. “Of course, we don’t know what condition he will be in. They won’t make promises for a full recovery, but they’re confident he is going to live.”
I added my best wishes and pleasure at the news. And then both the boys wanted to talk about their daddy, before Eleanor took over again. “I can’t thank you enough,” she continued. “You gave us all hope. You showed us you cared. You seemed to understand, instinctively, what we needed; what to say, and when to leave us alone. So we trusted you. We couldn’t express our appreciation in the state we were in. Thanks to you, we are all in a much better place. In a way I can’t explain, I think even the change in Harold’s condition is due to you. You went to see him; sat with him and talked to him, a total stranger.”
Tears were streaming down my face; tears of happiness and relief. I had been seeing her on my computer but I had forgotten she could see me, too. “Don’t cry,” she begged me. “I’m so happy. They think it will take a few days for him to come fully out of the coma, but I’m going to tell him all about you when he does.” She paused. I didn’t know what to say. “Anyway, thanks again. Now I think Oliver wants to have a chat, so we’ll leave you alone until we have more news.
The image of Oliver replaced that of his sister. He looked uncomfortable. He didn’t speak for a few seconds. “I’m glad you’ve got the webcam working,” he said at last. “It’s good to see you again.” I didn’t know how to reply. I didn’t want to raise my hopes if they were to be dashed again, so I said nothing. “Eleanor was insistent that she told you her news herself. She says she feels you are one of her best friends and she wanted to share her joy with you.” His speech was stilted as if there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t.
“Please tell her I’m honoured to be considered one of her friends, although I’m not sure we will ever meet again.”
“Why not?” he asked, surprised and disturbed.
“I cannot see any reason why I would ever be visiting Canada again.”
“I can’t tell her that,” he said, appalled. “She’s looking forward to you visiting again when Harold is back home. She wants to show you off to Harold. And to some of the friends who deserted her when she was at her lowest. They’ve started to return now she is much better. She’s told them about you. Calls you a saint.”
“I’m hardly that,” I retorted. “I don’t mind the odd Skype conversation, but that hardly justifies my returning to Canada. Plus, I can’t afford time off work and I can’t afford the airfare. Sorry, but it isn’t going to happen.” He was very quiet. The look on his face showed he didn’t know what to say next. Why couldn’t he give me a reason to want to go back to Canada? If only he’d say he loved me, I’d move heaven and earth to get time off to go and see him; using Harold as an excuse, of course.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but you have to be realistic. Would Eleanor drop everything, and fly over to see me, if I was in hospital? Of course not.” I had hoped he would understand that I hadn’t gone to Canada to help his sister, but he seemed unable to understand anything.
We were getting nowhere. I wanted to end the conversation, yet I didn’t want to be abrupt and hurt him some more. Fortunately he must have felt the same way. “I’d better go now. I’ll call another day,” he said at last.
“Fine,” I replied. It sounder harsher than I had intended. I ended the call before he could respond.
“Bang goes another romance,” I told myself. My record with men was pretty pathetic: a cheating husband; a murdered drug runner who wanted me to prostitute myself, a dirty, rotten, married liar, and an international criminal. What was wrong with me? I needed cheering up.
Jane was out with some other friends. Neeta was at home. She was sympathetic. “Give him time,” she advised. He may still be concerned about his brother-in-law. Either that, or forget about him completely. It’s not doing you any good at present. You are going to get depressed if you keep getting stressed out whenever he calls. Or doesn’t call.”
As hard as it was, she was right. But I couldn’t forget about him. Deep inside, I felt he was the man I was destined to spend the rest of my life with; he was the man who was going to be the father of my children. How could I chase after him, though? Chase after him when he didn’t appear to feel the same way? I needed something to take my mind off him. That was when I thought of Neeta’s parents and their big anniversary in the spring.
“I know it isn’t for a few months yet,” I told Neeta when I called her back. “However, I’d like to get some idea of what they would like, so I can come up with some ideas. Can you arrange a meeting with them? Sooner rather than later.” As luck would have it, they were visiting her on the Saturday. Neeta suggested I had lunch with them.
“Freesias, that’s what I had in my bouquet,” Neeta’s mother said as soon as I broached the subject. “Could I have some on the cake?” As to what shape the cake should be, they would leave that up to me. It was to be a fruit cake. That, again, was because their wedding cake had been a fruit cake, though then it was a bought one which her mother had iced, badly, she laughed. There would be maybe sixty people at the party, so there had to be enough for all of them.
It was with relief, I realised, I hadn’t thought of Oliver all day. Relief, though didn’t last. I began to fret that I hadn’t heard from him since the disastrous conversation. Why hadn’t he thought about what I’d said and come to the proper conclusion?
The ping on my phone told me I had a message. I looked at my clock. It was a quarter past four – in the morning. Eagerly, I grabbed my phone. It could only be Oliver calling, due to the time difference. The number displayed wasn’t one I recognised. I opened the massage:
“Hi, Rusty. Its Eleanor. Id like to Skype you Sunday between 10am and 4pm our time. Please text me back to say when is best for you.”
I worked it out that it would be between 6pm and midnight for me. My mind raced as to why she wanted to talk to me. The obvious reason was that Oliver had told her I wasn’t going to go back to Canada. Would she try and persuade me otherwise? I spent many minutes formulating my answers; trying not to seem harsh or uncaring. Finally I must have drifted off to sleep, because the phone woke me up. It was nearly 10am.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” Jane’s cheery voice asked. “Fancy a shopping trip? Simon is working and I need a few things, one of which is company.” It wasn’t often that Jane went shopping; usually it was an excuse for a chin-wag. That day was no different. We met at mid-day and immediately went for a spot of lunch. We chatted away for the best part of an hour. She agreed with me about the reason for Eleanor wanting to talk to me. After wandering around town for three hours, during which she bought a bra and a pair of tights, we went for a coffee. After that, the shops were ready to close, so we went our separate ways.
Just being with Jane was a way of calming me down and making me forget my troubles. On my way home I remembered I hadn’t replied to Eleanor’s text. As soon as I was home, I sent a message saying any time before 2pm, her time, would be fine. I settled down to watch television. It must have been boring for I fell asleep.
My PC pinged and woke me up. The message asked if I wanted to accept the Skype call. Anxiously, I accepted it. Eleanor didn’t look as relaxed or as happy as she had the last time I had seen her. It wasn’t a good omen.
“I’ll be honest with you,” she began. “I’m worried about Oliver. I don’t know what you said to him last time, but I’ve never seen him so depressed. I managed to persuade him to take the boys out for the day, so I could speak to you privately.” This wasn’t what I had expected at all. The news that he was depressed worried me.
“I didn’t really say anything,” I answered. “I told him I didn’t have any leave left and that it was unlikely I’d be able to come and see you when Harold comes home. How is he, by the way?”
“He came out of the coma yesterday but is very sleepy. He won’t be able to come home for many weeks, maybe not before Christmas. It would be lovely to see you again, but we weren’t expecting you to come back so soon.”
“Oh. He gave me the impression you were,” I interrupted. “He specifically said you wanted me to come over when Harold was out of hospital. Why would he say that?”
“You do realise he’s in love with you, don’t you?” This stunned me. It was what I wanted to hear – from him, not his sister.
“He’s never told me,” I replied. “Recently he’s been quite off with me. I feel as though I’ve done something to upset him.
“Then he’s a fool.” Eleanor was blunt about it. “He keeps saying you’re too good for him; that he was failing me when you arrived, like Florence Nightingale, he says. It’s all nonsense of course. He promised me he’d call you and tell you how he felt. I shall have to have strong words with him. And, I believe, you have similar feelings for him. That’s why you came to Canada, isn’t it?”
Words failed me. I didn’t know what to say. Should I open my heart to this woman who seemed to understand how we both felt, despite her own problems? She had accurately assessed my reasons for going to Canada and wasn’t vain enough to believe I had gone to help her. Before I could think of a suitable reply, she continued.
“He will have to come back to England in a few weeks. The maximum he can stay is three months. He is talking about returning here for another three months almost immediately. In his current state, though, we would be better off if he stayed in England. In fact, we’d be better of if he returned to England now.”
“And you want me to persuade him to come home, is that it?”
“Good heavens, no. We appreciate what he has done for us. It is still going to be a struggle, visiting Harold regularly, making sure the boys lead as normal a life as possible. He can be a great help to us. As long as he isn’t depressed. And that is where you can help. Tell him how you feel. Please.”
“I think that should come from him, first. If I feel he is sincere, I will say how I feel.” There had been so many setbacks for me recently that I couldn’t risk another. I had set my heart on winning his love when I was there and been rejected.
“I’ll speak to him; make him realise that he is risking his own happiness by not being honest with you. And, Rusty, I truly hope everything works out for you both – not for my sake, but for both your sakes. I hope he calls you soon.”
My heart thumped. Dare I hope? It was not yet nine o’clock. I phoned Jane and reported the conversation. She cheered me up by saying I had done the right thing. And then wished me luck when he did call.