All The King's Horses: A Tale Of Eternal Love (14 page)

BOOK: All The King's Horses: A Tale Of Eternal Love
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

Kent watched helplessly as Christy doubled over the toilet bowl again and brought up what was left of last night’s dinner. This made three days in a row now, and he felt his pulse quicken just hearing her vomit.

The cancer was back. He was sure of it. He had known their happy state couldn’t last for much longer; life was never fair like that.

She doubled over again.

“Do you think I should get you to a doctor?” he asked, after she had straightened up.

“I’ll be alright soon,” she assured him. “I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather for the past few days. Probably a bug I picked up somewhere. It’ll pass in a day or two.”

He looked at her skeptically. “I still think we should see a doctor.”

“I’ll be alright, Kent,” she said grumpily. “You need to stop fussing.”

He walked back into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Why did this have to happen when they were halfway round the other side of the world?

Christy had just launched into another violent spate of retching. He was surprised she still had anything left to bring up.

He hated feeling so helpless. There was nothing he could do for her, nothing at all. And there was nothing anyone could do for him fear had him well and truly in its grip.

Jack must be told. He hadn’t spared his father-in-law a thought until now. But he needed to be informed about the current situation with his daughter. Kent would discuss it with Christy later in the day when she was feeling a little better. As soon as she was well enough he would book a flight back to New Zealand. They would be able to cope with this situation better if they were back at home.

As Christy came through to join him he studied her face with concern. She had gone a ghastly shade of pale. “You look terrible,” he said. “I really think I should get you to a doctor.”

She leaned back against the chest of drawers and fixed her emerald eyes on him. “I have something to tell you,” she said slowly and deliberately, “and I’m afraid you’re not going to like it.”

A lump collected in his throat and so he tried to swallow it away. “I’m listening.” His heart was pounding. She was going to tell him what he had prayed so hard would not happen. She was going to tell him the leukemia had returned.

“I have not been well for a while now,” she began, and he could see that what she was about to tell him was upsetting her. She was shaking a little, and he longed to hold her in his arms and comfort her, but with him shaking just as much he would only make her worse than she already was.

“I know you’ve been worried about me and I’m sorry for that.”

“If you would just let me take you to see a doctor,” he said desperately.

“I don’t need a doctor, Kent. I’m not sick in the way you’re thinking.”

He looked at her in complete bafflement. “Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Bafflement turned to astonishment. “What?”

“I’ve been suffering from morning sickness because I’m pregnant.”

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry.

“I should be alright in a couple of weeks so there’s no need to let it spoil our holiday.”

He was looking at her blankly. “But how…how can you be pregnant? You’ve been taking contraceptives.”

She came over and sat beside him on the bed. “This is the part you’re not going to like.”

He sat there silently waiting for her to explain.

“I stopped taking the pill just before we left New Zealand.”

“What…why did you do that?”

“Because I wanted to have my husband’s baby.”

“But you heard what the specialist said. You know how dangerous it is for you to have a baby.”

“Yes, I heard the specialist. But he wasn’t a woman. He isn’t the one who’d have to live empty and unfulfilled for the rest of his life. It’s me who’d have to do that.”

He stared down at the floor in front of his feet. “I can’t believe you’ve done this. It’s not just you who’s affected by it.”

“I know.”

“There’s me, there’s Jack, and there’s this baby.”

“My baby and yours, made up of our love for each other. Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I do. But not at the risk of losing you.”

“I know there’s a risk. I know I should have discussed it with you. But I also know you wouldn’t have agreed to it. I did what I had to do to have Kent London’s baby.”

He slowly shook his head at her. “It’s incredibly selfish of you, Christy, and not what I would have expected from you.”

Tears formed in her eyes. “I don’t want you to be angry with me. I couldn’t bear it if you were. I love you so much.”

“I’m not angry with you, Christy,” he said calmly. “But I am disappointed. I’m bitterly disappointed in you.”

A sob escaped her. “Please don’t be. I’m going to need your support to have our baby.”

His heart softened. “Of course you’ve got my support. But promise me you’ll never do anything that might danger either yourself or the baby without discussing it with me.”

“I promise.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, and the relief of unburdening herself brought on a flood of tears.

He put his arm around her. “Your doctor’s going to have a blue fit when we tell her. Jack’s not going to be too happy about it either. I just hope he doesn’t blame me.”

She lifted her head and looked at him through her tears. “We have to forget about them and concentrate on getting everything ready for our baby.”

She was right. What was done was done and so now they had to look to the future. “We could turn the study into a nursery I guess,” Kent said, already figuring out how they were going to accommodate the little one.” He frowned. “It’s right next to Jack’s room though, so I don’t think he’ll be too happy when the baby starts squawking in the middle of the night.”

“Daddy will be fine with it. He’s never had a grandchild so he’ll be excited.”

“We’ll have to come up with a name, something that’ll sound alright coupled up with London.”

“We’ll find something. The important thing is that this baby will be loved.”

Kent had no doubt about that. But over the next few days his mind dwelt on all the things that would change with the arrival of this baby. Things weren’t going to be quite so simple any more. He and Christy wouldn’t be able to live just for each other for much longer. Soon all their energies would need to be directed towards the child they had created together.


Kent gave Christy the seat by the window and plonked down beside her. He had been dreading this moment for the past three days. The return flight home was a long one with several stopovers before they would finally land in New Zealand, and he was feeling tired enough without the air travel making him feel worse.

“You look as sick as I felt this morning,” Christy said to him moments after they had clicked into their seatbelts. “Anyone would think that you’re the pregnant one.”

Kent stared grimly ahead as the plane began to taxi down the runway. “I’d swap this for pregnancy right about now.” He closed his eyes as the wheels left the tarmac.

Christy knew she had to take his mind off his fear. “Have you had any thoughts on what we should name our baby?”

His eyes opened. “I have done a bit of thinking on that actually. I kinda like the name Talitha.”

“That comes from the bible doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it means, ‘little girl.’ So I thought we might call her Talitha Christina London.”

“Do you really think she should have my name for her middle one?”

“Yes, I do.” He slipped his hand over hers. “In fact, I insist upon it.”

She smiled at his at his enthusiasm. “I like the name Talitha, it’s unusual.”

“So are we agreed on Talitha Christina for our baby girl?”

“Yes. What if it’s a boy?”

“How about Jack for his middle name?”

“Oh, Kent, Daddy would love that.”

Kent grinned. “He wouldn’t have any trouble remembering it either.”

“And what about his first name?”

“What would you prefer?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “And no gangster names if you please.”

“Oh, now you’ve got me started.” She scrunched up her nose and bite down on her lip as she thought. “There’s Al, Bugsy…hey that one’s got potential. Bugsy London. I like it.”

“But I don’t so keep them coming.”

“Okay…how about Lucky Luciano, or maybe Don Carlo?”

“You’re on fire today aren’t you hotshot? Now we’ve got you’re gangster obsession out of the way how about some sensible names.”

“Flynn…?”

Kent flicked his eyes in Christy’s direction. “Actually, I like that…Flynn Jack London. That works for me.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, Buster.”

“No you’re not,” Kent agreed. “You’re a bad news gangster impersonator.”

“Ya bedda believe it, Punk, or I might jus havta bump ya off. Don’t mind doin’ time for it neeva, cos I’m not a dame ta be messin’ wiv.”

“Oh brother, when you get started on that gangster stuff you’re a real pain in the proverbial aren’t you?”

She poked her finger into his ribs. “Don’t force me ta use ma rod, Punk, cos I’ll put a slug in ya jus as soon as look at ya.” She clenched her fist and waved it in front of his face. “I might havta smack ya in ta kisser. Tat’d mess ya pretty boy mug up.”

“Excuse me, Sir.” Kent looked up at the air hostess hovering over him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine.” He jerked a thumb in Christy’s direction. “My wife’s just doing her gangster impersonations.”

The air hostess’s eyes moved from Kent’s to Christy’s clenched fist which was still hovering inches from the end of Kent’s nose.

“The punk wouldn’t hand ova da loot,” Christy rasped. “I wuz bout ta smack him on da kisser.”

The air hostess’s eyebrows lowered. “If you have any problems don’t hesitate to let us know, sir,” she glared disapprovingly at Christy. “We want your flight to be as pleasant as possible.”

“Tat’s one feisty broad,” Christy commented, as she watched the woman walk back down the aisle. “Tat dame wanna chill out. Suck back on a gasper or three. Tat’d be ta ticket.”

“I can’t take you anywhere,” Kent said, as soon as the hostess was out of earshot. “I never know whether I’m going to be sitting next to my demure little wife or Al Capone.”

“Stick wiv me, Buster, an you’ll neeva hav a dull moment.”

He shook his head. “That’s what worries me.”

She noticed the color was returning to his cheeks. She had succeeded in keeping his mind off his phobia long enough for him to settle down into the flight. Unless they hit turbulence he wouldn’t be too bad again until they came in for their first landing.

Christy wondered how Jack was going to be with her. He hadn’t sounded too happy about the whole thing when she had told him over the phone. She knew he would worry himself sick about what having the baby was going to do to her. She hating being the cause of that worry, but she had been desperate to have this baby, and she was excited, very excited, about the prospect of holding Kent London’s baby in her arms.

Kent was excited too. She could tell even though he was apprehensive. He was making all sorts of plans for the baby’s arrival. He was even thinking ahead to the little ones future. He was just as excited as any first father should be. She was just sad that along with that excitement he had been saddled with fear. Fear that something would happen either to her or the baby or both. Kent didn’t deserve that, he had been through enough pain in his life as it was. He had admitted to her that he wanted a girl. A little miniature of her he said. She hoped for his sake that she could deliver.

Jack would be happy too once the baby had safely arrived and he could see his daughter was okay. He would spend long hours with his grandchild. He had always loved children and it was always a sore point with him that he hadn’t had more of his own.

Christy pictured the long hours the little one would spend on the beach with Papa, building sandcastles and feeding the seagulls. Then there would be the movies he would take her to and the pony rides when she was a little older. Yes, she would be one blessed little girl.

“Do you think we should shift out to the countryside when Talitha is born?”

Christy broke herself free of her thoughts. “Why?”

“T o give her room to roam and play and do normal things.”

“Define normal.”

“You know, climbing trees and having lots of pets and things. Jack and I could even build her a tree hut.”

“Paihia’s a good place to grow up in too,” Christy pointed out. “There’s the sea, and the beach, and the playground.”

“Yeah, they’re good,” Kent agreed. “But there’s so much more for a kid to do on a farm.”

“So now we’re talking farms?” Christy looked at him quizzically. “I thought you had your heart set on your charter boat business?”

“I do. But I have to think about Talitha now as well.”

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