Chloe was white-faced and motionless, her eyes closed. Bandages swathed her head and IVs were attached to her body. There was one in her arm, another in her nose. A piece of equipment covered her mouth, and she looked so helpless, so vulnerable, Stevie’s eyes welled; she fumbled in her jacket pocket for a handkerchief. After a moment, she composed herself and swung her head to look at the neurosurgeon. She was mute, unable to say anything, so choked up was she. She shook her head.
Understanding her state of mind, observing her anxiousness and worry, Valentin Longdon said quietly, “I’m pleased with her progress since the operation this afternoon. I feel optimistic she’s going to be all right, Mrs. Jardine.”
“Is she out of danger, Mr. Longdon?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but she’s doing well. Let me explain something. Those are intra-venous drips, as I’m sure you know. They give easy access to the bloodstream, just in case of any infection. And as you can see, I have her on a ventilator.
Your daughter is being monitored for 344 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
the blood gases and also for intracranial pressure.
And so far so good.”
“I know you’re doing everything for her, and that she’s getting the best of care.”
Stevie gazed down at Chloe, the child of her heart, and took hold of her hand. Then she bent down and kissed it. Straightening, turning once more to the neurosurgeon, she murmured, “She doesn’t know I’m here, does she?”
“She might, Mrs. Jardine; we don’t know for sure.”
His eyes were full of compassion for her.
After a moment longer, Stevie tiptoed out of the private room; Blair went in to see her granddaughter. When she emerged, Derek entered, but he, too, stayed only for a few seconds.
Not long after this, Stevie walked into the private waiting room where Nigel was sitting with Gideon.
Derek and Blair followed her. Both of Stevie’s sons jumped up when they saw their mother and their grandparents.
Stevie went straight to Nigel, opening her arms to him. There was only the merest hesitation on his part as he searched her face, and then he stepped forward to take hold of his mother. Stevie put her arms around him and held him very close to her, the love she felt for him far outweighing her anger and disappointment of the last few months. “I’m here for you, Nigel; I’ll do anything I can to help you, darling.”
He clung to her, and unexpectedly his self-control shattered. He broke down and began to Power of a Woman / 345
sob. “Oh, Mother, Mother, I don’t know what to do for Tamara. She’s lying there…so helpless. I love her so much, Ma. She’s my life. I don’t want her to die.”
“I know, I know, darling. We must all be strong for her, pray that she pulls through this. I love her, too, you know that, Nigel. Take me to see her now.”
Finding his handkerchief, blowing his nose, and then pushing his hair back with his hands, Nigel pulled himself together as best he could. After greeting his grandparents, he took hold of Stevie’s arm and led her out of the room. They all went to the surgical ward in the Brotherton Wing, where a nurse took them to the ICU and showed Nigel and Stevie into Tamara’s room. Gideon waited outside with Blair and Derek.
Stevie’s heart sank when she saw her daughter-in-law lying unconscious in the hospital bed, hooked up to so much equipment. She was so still. Stevie couldn’t help thinking that Tamara looked ghastly, in a way, worse than Chloe did. The thought struck her that Tamara was at death’s door, and she shivered involuntarily. Something inside her told her that it would be a miracle if Tam lived. She thought her heart would break as she leaned over her daughter-in-law, squeezed her hand, and lightly touched the lovely silver-gilt hair. There was a frailty about Tamara that frightened Stevie, and she knew why Nigel was so distraught. He had detected this, too, and it had alerted him to the worst.
346 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
Now Stevie turned to Nigel, took his arm, and led him out of the private room. Once again Derek, and then Blair, went in to see Tamara.
Stepping up to his mother, Gideon said, “Are you all right, Ma? Are you holding up okay?” He put his arm around her solicitously. Kissed her cheek.
“I’m fine, Gideon, and I’m glad you and Miles are here to help Nigel and me through this. Where’s Lenore? Is she still at Lindenhill?”
“She’s driving over to Leeds now. Natalie and Arnaud are just having their supper and then Agnes is going to put them to bed. I spoke to Lenore a few minutes ago. Don’t worry about the kids, Ma; they’re doing fine.”
Nigel said in a hoarse voice, “She’s not going to pull through, is she, Mother? Tamara’s not going to make it, is she? I could see it written all over your face when we were in the room with her.”
“No, you couldn’t, Nigel, because I don’t believe that at all. I’m just worried about Tam, obviously.
That’s what you’re seeing, my anxiety and concern.
And let’s be positive, Nigel. Tamara’s a strong woman; she’s going to fight to live, I just know it. Now, take me to see the surgeon who operated on her.”
“All right.”
Gideon said, “I’ll wait here for Grandma and Gramps.”
Nigel and Stevie walked rapidly down the cor-Power of a Woman / 347
ridor, making for the surgeon’s office, but as they turned the corner they ran into him.
“Mr. Jardine,” he exclaimed, “I was just coming to see your wife, to check on her.”
“This is my mother, Stephanie Jardine,” Nigel said.
“And, Mother, this is Mr. William Tilden, Tam’s surgeon.”
After they had shaken hands, Stevie said, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for my daughter-in-law, Mr. Tilden. From what I understand, her wounds were very bad.”
He nodded. “Yes, very serious, Mrs. Jardine. She sustained bullet wounds in her chest and stomach.
Unfortunately, there was a lot of internal bleeding, and she has lost a lot of blood. We’ve given her transfusions, naturally, and now we must wait to see how she improves in the next few hours.”
“Is my wife going to die?’ Nigel asked in a strangled voice.
“We don’t know, Mr. Jardine. I personally think she has a reasonable chance of pulling through.
She’s a very healthy woman, and she’s young.”
“But she is in critical condition, isn’t she?” Nigel said.
“Yes,” the surgeon answered very softly.
I
T WAS A SUBDUED, SAD LITTLE GROUP THAT SAT
around a table in the lounge of the Queen’s Hotel in City Square, having a late-night drink and snack: Stevie, Derek, and Gideon.
Exhausted from travel and the strain of the day, Blair had gone to bed. So had Nigel and Miles, who were equally worn out. Lenore had been with them until ten minutes before, but she, too, had now left to drive back to Lindenhill.
Stevie played with a chicken sandwich, not eating it; in fact, it was taking all her energy to force down a cup of tea. Finally, after a long silence, she looked at Gideon and said, “What in God’s name made Dumachev shoot them?”
Gideon shook his head and let out a weary sigh.
“We’ll never know the answer to that, Ma. And I’m sure the girls won’t be able to enlighten us either when they regain consciousness. All they’ll be able to do is tell us what happened when 350 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
he arrived at the farm this morning, tell us what he actually said, how he behaved.”
“Personally, I think he was deranged,” Derek interjected. “No one in their right mind walks into a house and shoots two women in cold blood. And, more than likely, he was obsessed with Tamara.”
“Obsessional people can be extremely dangerous,”
Gideon announced, giving his mother a pointed look.
Stevie frowned, sat back in the chair, a reflective expression settling on her face. After a moment, she said, “Why would Alexis Dumachev be obsessed with Tamara? After all, they were married only a couple of months when they were very young. She was only eighteen, and she was divorced from him by the time she was nineteen. Anyway, Tamara hadn’t seen him for years. Nigel told me that at the hospital.” Stevie shook her head, bafflement edging onto her face. “Why would he suddenly come back into her life after all this time?”
“Who knows, Ma, and anyway, you don’t have to
see
someone constantly in order to be obsessed by them. That is usually in the mind, and in a sick mind at that.”
Derek nodded. “Gideon’s right, Stevie.” There was a little pause; he took a sip of coffee, then went on. “When I was speaking to Nigel earlier this evening, he said that Dumachev became engaged to a Japanese woman when he was living in Tokyo.
Power of a Woman / 351
Seemingly, over the years, Dumachev was in touch with Tamara’s parents occasionally. They had passed this news on to her about two years ago.”
“Perhaps something happened between him and the woman, something which triggered this,” Gideon said, thinking out loud.
“We’re speculating,” Derek pointed out. “And that can be both dangerous and fruitless.”
“You’re right, Derek,” Stevie agreed. “I’m glad Tam’s parents received Bruce’s fax and that they’re flying to London tomorrow. It makes me feel better knowing they’ll be here soon. Not that they can do anything either, but having them close to her will help Tam, I think.”
Gideon remarked, “I believe that something made Dumachev snap, and then he fixated on Tamara in a very sick way. That’s why he came looking for her.
Incidentally, the police told me that he was in England only a couple of days before he came up to Yorkshire. The police found his airline ticket and passport, as well as the car rental papers, in the glove compartment of the car.”
“So there’s absolutely no doubt that it
was
Alexis Dumachev, Gideon?”
“None whatsoever, Ma.” Gideon glanced at his watch. “It’s ten-thirty, Mother; aren’t you tired?” he asked in concern.
“Not in the way you mean. I’m on New York time, remember, and it’s only five-thirty in the 352 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
afternoon for me. But I must admit, I am a little worn out emotionally.”
“That’s not surprising.” Gideon pushed himself up out of the chair; bending over Stevie, he kissed her on the cheek, squeezed Derek’s shoulder, and finished, “I’m going to bed.”
“Good night, darling.” Stevie tried to smile at him.
“Better news tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“Good night, Gideon, and thanks for looking after us.” Derek stood up as he spoke, and embraced his grandson.
Once they were alone, Derek looked at Stevie and shook his head. “You’re not eating that sandwich, just toying with it. Shall I try to get you something else? Something more appetizing?”
“Thanks, Derek, it’s thoughtful of you, but I’m really not hungry. I will have a drink though. A co-gnac. I feel a bit queasy. It might settle my stomach.”
“I’ll join you.” Derek motioned to a waiter, who was hovering nearby, and ordered their drinks.
Several moments later the waiter reappeared with a bottle of Courvoisier and two brandy balloons.
Stevie sat back in her chair, sipped her brandy, endeavoring to relax, but without much success.
Eventually, she said softly, “Do you believe in premonitions, Derek? You know, of disaster, of trouble…”
“You ask
me
that? A Welshman, a true Celt through and through, and right to the very mar-Power of a Woman / 353
row of his bones. Of course I do. I’m very superstitious. I believe in presentiments of doom, and portents and signs. In spirits and ghosts and the supernatural…in Merlin’s magic at Camelot…if it could happen then, it can happen now. It’s atavistic, of course; it’s in my Celtic blood. But why do you ask?”
“On the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving, I went for a walk through the meadows adjoining Romany Hall. Quite suddenly the weather changed, a fog came down unexpectedly, and I kept thinking of Aysgarth End and the Yorkshire moors.
In fact, for a second I thought I’d been transported back there, the two places were so similar. Anyway, I was cold, shivering, and I had such a terrible sense of foreboding, of impending trouble, I was actually frightened. And that’s not like me.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Later, back at the house, I experienced that same coldness, that sense of doom at one moment. I pushed the feeling away again, thought of it as being irrational. I even laughed at myself—” She broke off, staring at him.
He nodded. “Go on.”
She could see he was taking her seriously, and so she explained further. “Ever since that day I’ve had nothing but trouble, one way or another. I wish I’d paid attention, done something about it.”
Derek frowned at her. “There was
nothing
you could do, Stevie. You can’t tamper with fate. What 354 / Barbara Taylor Bradford
will be will be. You know I’ve always told you that.”
“Yes, you have, and I suppose you’re right.”
Derek was thoughtful for a moment or two. He took several sips of brandy before he said slowly,
“There are so many strange things in this world, so many things we don’t understand, and which we cannot properly explain….”
Earlier that day, Blair had gone to Stevie’s flat in Eaton Square and packed a suitcase of clothes for her. Now, much later that evening, Stevie began to take her things out of the case, hanging them up in the bedroom of her suite at the Queen’s Hotel.
Once she had put everything away, she telephoned Bruce in London, as she had promised she would.
“I’m sorry I’m phoning you so late; it’s almost midnight, I know,” she said when he answered. “I was hoping to have more news by now, but I don’t.”
“It’s not a problem, Stevie; you can phone whenever you wish. I doubt I’ll sleep tonight anyway. Since you’ve nothing to report, I’m assuming Chloe is still in a coma?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“How is Tamara?”
“The same. In critical condition.”
“I see. Well, at least they haven’t deteriorated. Or have they?”
Power of a Woman / 355
“No, they’re holding their own, Bruce, and perhaps by tomorrow there will be some improvement, better news. I’ll call you—”
“No, no, Stevie, you don’t have to; I’m coming up there. I’m taking the Yorkshire Pullman from King’s Cross tomorrow morning. There’s one around eight. I’ll arrive in Leeds in two hours. And it’s the fastest way to get there.”