Claire's Prayer (22 page)

Chapter Sixteen

For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, as if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked … so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.

(2 Corinthians 5:1-4)

Claire’s eyes snapped open: there was someone pounding on her door. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it must be just before dawn. Pushing her hair from her face, she stumbled to the door. Seth stood there, big and menacing to her sleep-befuddled mind. Claire put out her hand to close her door on him.
He’s drunk. He’d only come if he were drunk
, she told herself. But Seth halted her in a calm, gentle voice.

“Claire, your aunt’s neighbor – Mrs Reilly? – is on the phone. You need to come and talk to her.”

Claire stared at Seth blankly in confusion, and didn’t move.

“Claire, you need to come,” Seth repeated. He put his hand on her arm. “She says… your aunt’s had a stroke.”

Claire sagged against the door in shock. Thinking she might collapse, Seth held her tightly by her upper arms. He continued, compassion in his voice.

“Claire, she’s holding on to speak to you. Come on; I’ll take you to the house.”

Old Mrs Reilly was hysterical. She related in broken, rambling sentences how Aunt Ellen had not appeared for their usual bridge game – how she had gone over to Ellen’s house, feeling only irritation, to see what had happened. Luckily, she’d found the prostrate woman not long after she had collapsed. Claire almost collapsed too, as Mrs Reilly confirmed what Seth had told her, and what the hospital had related: that her aunt was alive, but had had a stroke. She was now in hospital and was asking for Claire.

Promising to get the first flight back, Claire replaced the receiver and let her tears flow.
Why, oh why, was everything going wrong at once? Again, after so short a period of relief?

Seth pushed some tissues into Claire’s shaking hands, but avoided her eyes. He lifted the phone again and, without speaking to her, started to dial. He spoke calmly but forcefully to the stubborn clerk who answered the line for airport reservations in Bulawayo. Claire wasn’t listening, through her sobs, to what he was saying, but finally Seth slammed down the receiver and took Claire firmly by her shoulders. For the first time, he looked at her directly.

He spoke to her clearly, as if explaining to a child. “Claire, you’re on the four o’clock flight this afternoon. We don’t have much time; you must go and pack. I’ll let Naomi know what’s happened and pick you up after I’ve filled the BMW with petrol. Okay?”

Nodding dazedly, Claire turned and walked from the room. Clinging to the mundane in her shock, she quickly changed out of her pyjamas, scraped back her hair and packed, placing her sketches between her clothes. She was frantically stuffing her toiletries into her wash bag when Seth arrived with Naomi and Tony.

As she placed Claire’s luggage in the boot, Naomi had tears in her eyes. She hugged Claire with a fierce intensity, promised to visit and implored Claire to keep in touch. Tony, too, held her tightly for a moment before passing her a basket that he and Naomi had hurriedly packed with chicken sandwiches and a thermos of tea. Having bundled mutely into the car, Seth and Claire sped through the thinning darkness. The sun was rising over the landscape now, but its beauty was completely lost to Claire. Aware of the eight-hour journey ahead of them, which he and Claire had so freely broken with picnics and chatter in the other direction, Seth pressed Claire to drink some tea. Claire, feeling sick to her stomach with shock, fear, exhaustion and she alone knew what more, could barely open her mouth to sip it – and then, not long afterwards, she felt nausea broil in her stomach. Desperately, she grabbed Seth’s forearm and begged him urgently to stop. Looking at Claire in confusion, Seth saw her pale face and brought the car to a screeching halt. Claire flung open the door and stumbled to the grass verge to be violently ill. Seth stood next to her, puzzled and concerned as he held out some damp tissues. Claire wiped her mouth and rinsed it with some water, fumbling in her bag for chewing gum. Firmly, she assured Seth that she was fine other than in her distress, and slid back into the car. The rest of the journey passed in a haze. Claire dozed lightly for the next couple of hours, eventually forcing herself awake after realising how often Seth was glancing with concern over at her. Claire stared ahead, silently praying for her aunt. She remembered stopping once to fill up with petrol. Later, at imploring words from Seth, she managed to eat two sandwiches and drink some more of the cooling tea. Then they were on the road again, racing through the now-fading sunshine to the airport terminal.

Parking in the short-stay bay, Seth loaded Claire’s luggage onto a trolley and they hurried inside. The lady behind the counter checked Claire’s ticket and passport, and told them that the flight would be called shortly. Now with nothing to do but wait, Claire felt dizzy. In the panic after the phone call, it had not penetrated her mind that she would be leaving Zimbabwe, leaving Seth, so immediately. She would probably never see him again. Sitting with him, sipping a cup of tea, her eyes met Seth’s and clung for endless seconds. They were alone amidst the hubbub of airport activity. There was so much that needed to be said. Claire opened her mouth – but a voice over the intercom crackled into the moment, calling her away to board.

Seth found it difficult to stand. For the last day he’d been acting on autopilot, doing what was necessary – but he suddenly felt as if a vital part of him was being ripped out.

Dropping her handbag, Claire reached up. Cupping Seth’s face tenderly in her hands, she rose up onto her toes and kissed him. Their lips fused and clung for a second – as though forever – and then she was walking quickly away from him.

Seth stood, watching her go. People bumped into him, and looked back at him, annoyed. He watched as the security gates closed. He watched as the aeroplane taxied up the runway. He watched as it took off, taking Claire from him. Lifting his hands, he brushed them over his cheeks. They were wet. Wiping his palms on his trousers, Seth swung around and left the terminal. Despite all his efforts to keep his distance, Claire had come too close to him. She already meant too much. Reaching his car, Seth imagined the empty drive back to Impunzi alone, and what he felt would be the overbearing happiness of the newly-weds waiting at its end. On impulse, Seth booked a room at the Bulawayo Sun Hotel and ordered a bottle of brandy. He tried to drive from him the last feel of her lips. The image of her walking away from him. Twenty-four hours ago he’d been avoiding her, resenting her – wishing her gone. Now, in a heartbeat, she
was
gone. Seth drank until his mind’s eye was as blind to Claire as he had been.

TAP Airliner, Flight DUB-8096

Claire’s flights passed in a blur. Several hours after re-boarding in Zurich, she started to come back to herself. Claire was shocked to find what she’d been thinking about was not her aunt – no matter how worried she was about her, or how anxious she was to get to her side – but that Seth was gone from her life. She remembered him saying that she should come back to Impunzi, when things were sorted out. Impunzi, the home of the man she’d loved. No: she would not be going back. She had survived one encounter with Seth; she could not imagine herself strong enough to survive another. The emergency had simply hidden the fact that she’d resolved already to leave, and hurried her departure. Claire fell into a restless sleep, but frightening dreams plagued her mind. Waking in a cold sweat, Claire dashed from her seat and was again horribly ill. Taking deep breaths, she asked the hostess for some strong tea and, putting on her headphones, listened to the tinny sounds of the airline radio to block everything from her mind. Willing the hours to pass, Claire wished that Dolly were on the flight. Dolly knew how to distract a person. She told herself she wished anyone could be with her… without admitting how much she wanted it to be Seth by her side. Claire was a mass of nerves by the time the aeroplane landed in Dublin.

Catching a taxi, Claire decided to drop off her luggage at home first. It was only once there did she realise she hadn’t had the chance to shower or sleep properly for over forty-eight hours. Claire dragged herself into the bathroom to wash and pulled on clean clothes from her room.
They smell like home
, she thought, her breath catching in her throat. The scent of her aunt’s fresh washing reminded her in a flash of being a child, of being able to run away and have others just make things better. She felt an almost physical pull to climb into bed, cover her head and shut out the world. But no-one could look after her now, Claire knew. She was going to be the one in charge. From now on, she would be the one Aunt Ellen could count on. No more whining and pining over Seth: he and Impunzi were gone – in the past. This was her future now. Using her last shreds of energy to pull her fractured emotions together, Claire decided to look forward from this moment on. She had her writing, Aunt Ellen and Kacey, and… and that would have to be enough.

Phoning Kacey but having to leave a message, Claire left her sanctuary and went over to Mrs Reilly’s, where she learned her aunt was in a stable condition. Much of her power of speech had been lost due to the stroke, but she was able to talk – albeit slowly and in a slurred voice. Claire took the car that had been her mother’s and drove to the hospital.

As she walked down the cold, sterile corridor, Claire’s thoughts drifted to the walks she had taken at Impunzi, such a short time ago. In this subdued efficiency, she could barely recall the warm, fresh breeze, the leaves rustling or the monkeys chattering. Catching herself before her mind dwelt on Seth, Claire shivered slightly. Hospitals were such impersonal places. Uniformed people hurried to and fro, disappearing behind white doors. Everyone spoke in hushed tones: everything was sterile, stark and empty. The hospital didn’t, now, seem to Claire to be suited to healing. But this was home. This was where her aunt was.

Glancing at the clock and frowning, the strict sister in ICU nevertheless let Claire in for a short while. Claire braced herself before walking into the little room. Aunt Ellen lay pale and shrunken on the bed, the monitors around her flickering and beeping. Going quietly to the side of the bed, Claire took her aunt’s cold hand in hers. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought her aunt was gone, the hand was so cold. But then her eyelids flickered, and Aunt Ellen opened her eyes, seeing Claire. A crooked smile lifted the right side of her face.

“I’m here, Aunt Ellen.” Tears ran down Claire’s cheeks. “You get well now, you hear me? Please get well.”

It was all suddenly just too much for Claire to bear. She sat, lowering her head onto the edge of the bed, and she sobbed. She felt her aunt’s hand stroking her head, awkwardly patting her, trying to comfort her through a despair she didn’t fully understand. Peeping into the room, the sister witnessed a scene unusually touching for even her jaded, professional eyes. She decided that a few more minutes would do more good than harm.

Chapter Seventeen

And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.

(Colossians 3:14)

Dublin, Ireland – one year later

Claire was happy – happier than she could remember really being since her parents had died. After running a cloth over the kitchen hob, she picked up the tray of tea things and carried it through to the sitting room, where her aunt was watching old movies. Tucking her feet under her for a rare moment of peace, Claire watched her aunt get to her feet – pretty nimbly, Claire thought admiringly – and reappear moments later with a plate of chocolate biscuits. They grinned at one another.

Claire could barely believe the way things had worked out. The two weeks after she’d arrived home from… from
her trip
, she brushed over the memory, had passed by in a flurry of activity. She’d thought to leave a hurried answerphone message for Naomi at Impunzi, telling her friend simply that that she had arrived home safely and her Aunt would be fine, but since then Claire’s mind had been required firmly in the present. At first, Claire’s days were spent driving from home to the hospital and back again. She spent as much of her time as possible away from the house. It seemed so quiet and empty with no-one else there that Claire thought she might go mad. But then, two weeks after the stroke, Aunt Ellen had been allowed to come home. Claire had arranged a downstairs room for her, knowing that the stairs would be too much to handle. She, Kacey and kind, worried Mrs Reilly were waiting on the front path when the ambulance brought Aunt Ellen home. The doctor had arranged a nurse to come in daily and assist Claire in caring for her, but Claire was so glad to have Aunt Ellen back home that she would gladly have taken on twice the work she was asked to do. Nevertheless, the day nurse arrived promptly at nine every morning and stayed until four o’clock. Under her auspices and Claire’s care, Aunt Ellen improved steadily, at first using a walking ring and then, slowly, learning to move around the house independently again.

Now, Claire smiled to herself, her aunt had found a new lease of life. Aunt Ellen’s renewed independence had allowed Claire to return to work, at least part-time. She went to see her publisher and gave him the material she had been working on. He was overjoyed; Claire blushed as he raved, “My dear girl! The Squeak books you wrote in Zimbabwe are flying off the shelves – and these roughs for the monkey… Shoko? They look fantastic. They’re your best work ever, Claire. I’ve been asked if you’ll consider doing a book-signing session. What do you say?”

Claire tried to react in an appropriately excited manner but, no matter what their success, these were books Claire barely ever looked back at now. Daily, she tried not to think about the beautiful country that had crept into her heart and inspired them. She blocked Impunzi from her mind: she had plenty to occupy her thoughts.

Claire reached out for a biscuit, but the doorbell rang. She was startled. They lived such a retreat of a life, now, that visitors were a rarity – and Aunt Ellen had not mentioned that anyone was coming over. Claire opened the door, biscuit still in hand, and stared in stunned amazement. Naomi was grinning at her, her face just as sun-kissed and her smile just as contagious as ever. Tony stood beside her, his arm around her shoulders.

In an excited voice, Naomi said, “Close your mouth, Claire! Didn’t I promise we would visit you? After the most
hectic
season Seth surprised us with a bonus and three weeks off, so here we are!”

Trying desperately to recover from her shock, Claire hugged them both and welcomed them into her home. Naomi breezed in joyfully and, talking incessantly, informed her that they’d had the chance of a stop-over in Dublin on their way to visit family in America – they were hoping to stay for four days, if Claire would have them, as they wanted to see all the places she had spoken of.

Aunt Ellen stood to greet the unexpected company, and Naomi just caught the glance that passed meaningfully between her and Claire; but a moment later, Aunt Ellen disappeared to make more tea. The obviously happy couple chatted easily, sharing all their news. But Claire was tense, trembling inside. There was a huge part of her that was overjoyed to see Naomi again; she hadn’t realised how much she’d missed their easy intimacy, and Naomi’s conspiratorial giggle. But another part of Claire was just waiting for the moment that would shake Naomi’s smile. She looked at the clock. It wouldn’t be long now. Knowing she couldn’t keep putting it off, Claire showed Naomi and Tony the guest bedroom. As Tony placed their luggage in the room, it happened.

A baby’s impatient cries filled the air. Claire glanced nervously at Naomi, who looked dumbfounded. Screwing up her courage, she went quickly from the room. Naomi and Tony stared at each other silently. Claire passed into the next room to the child, who was now screaming lustily. Naomi followed her, coming to a shocked halt and watching through wide eyes as Claire lifted an already dark-haired baby into her arms. He had stopped crying now. In the deafening silence, Claire could hear herself breathing. The child gurgled contentedly at his mother, and Claire found she couldn’t lift her eyes from his to meet Naomi’s.

Stepping closer to the bowed blonde head in front of her, Naomi said in a thick, shocked voice, “What’s his name? I mean… how old is he, Claire?”

Her words faded as the child lifted his deep brown eyes and looked at her. Looking up at Naomi pleadingly, Claire answered, “Naomi, meet Sebastian. He’s just over three months old.”

“Sebastian… Like – like my grandfather?” Naomi glanced from the child to the portrait behind him: the sketch of Seth Claire had done at Victoria Falls was hanging on the wall, and gazing at her with the same eyes.

“Please, try to understand,” Claire appealed to her friend. “When I left Zimbabwe I did know I was pregnant, but things between Seth and me were so messed up – I just couldn’t tell any of you when I found out.”

“I could kill that brother of mine,” Naomi snarled. “No wonder he was acting so strangely after you left. Just you wait until I see him again.”

Claire padded slowly around the room with Sebastian, lulling him back to sleep and continuing quietly, “I love Seth, Naomi – but I love my son more. Seth doesn’t want ties or commitment. He was pretty clear about that.” Claire’s voice almost broke, and a single tear glistened in the corner of her eye.

Gently taking the now-sleeping baby from her, Naomi cradled him tenderly and held Claire’s gaze. Aunt Ellen and Tony came into the room, and Naomi explained the situation to Tony quietly. Claire watched as the shock and anger in his face changed to tenderness as Sebastian was placed in his arms. Rocking the baby, he followed Aunt Ellen downstairs, leaving the girls to talk. Through her tears Claire told Naomi what had happened.

“Do you remember the day we went to get your wedding dress?” Claire began. Naomi absorbed the weight of this.

“You slipped off – but I was so distracted, Claire; I’m so sorry…”

Claire halted her friend’s apology with a comforting hand. “While you were in the dressmaker’s I went to the doctor. I honestly thought I had a stomach bug – but he knew straight away. I took a test when I was there, and he called me back that afternoon, but it was your wedding… I’m not even sure what I would’ve done, but then the call came about Aunt Ellen that night and I just… just flew home.”

Naomi held Claire’s trembling hands. With tears in her own eyes she said feelingly, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, Claire. I was so wrapped up in the wedding. But when… did it happen between you and Seth? Was it after I left the game reserve?”

Taking a deep breath, Claire nodded. “Naomi, Seth and I were only together that one night. I didn’t mean to – but I loved him. I would never have slept with him otherwise; you have to believe that.” Her tears fell freely as she continued. “I was so scared and shocked at first, but then I realized God must have had a plan for me – He created life for me so soon after my parents’ had been taken away.”

Claire could see that Naomi was devastated she’d never noticed Claire’s trauma. But aside from the nausea and the worry of Seth’s proximity, Claire knew she hadn’t allowed herself to suffer. When she’d returned to Impunzi after her visit to the doctor’s, Claire had pulled a chair out into the sunlight and sat for hours, thinking about this major change in her life. In the most profound way since she’d got to Impunzi, Claire had prayed – prayed as hard and with as much focus as she could. Surrounded by the distractions of her holiday, and her heart, Claire had forgotten how much peace these moments of true contemplation brought her. She had stayed almost immobile in the sun for hours, until the light had faded and Claire knew her own mind. She had allowed herself, finally, to focus on her parents: on how death had had its way, but also on how their love, their resolve and their example had lived on. Now, life would have its way. Claire’s prayer had shown her the path she had to take. Calmer than she had been for a long time, she had smiled secretly and laid her hand on her belly. Surrounded by and filled with the miracles of nature, Claire had welcomed her child – Seth’s child – into being. But this, she knew, she would never be able to convey to Naomi. Instead, she tried to explain to her friend how much joy Sebastian had brought not only to her, but also to Aunt Ellen.

Claire’s revelation of everything that had happened in Zimbabwe had, in the end, been an infinitely more distressing one for her than for her aunt. Even once Aunt Ellen had returned home, Claire could barely stand the thought of adding to her worries and had, one night, just broken down: she’d being trying frantically to think of the words to express herself over a delicious homecoming dinner she’d prepared, but had got only as far as saying, awkwardly, “Aunt Ellen, I’m so glad you’re home…” when she’d started to cry. Sobbing, she’d told her aunt about Seth, and finally about her baby.

Looking at her searchingly, Aunt Ellen had simply squeezed Claire’s hand and said, “Go and make a pot of tea, child. We have some talking to do.”

They’d spoken late into the night, and, after hours of discussion through her tears, Claire had confided, firmly, “Aunt Ellen, I want this baby more than anything, and I think that’s what God wants for me, too, no matter what anyone else says. I will have it, and love it. And I won’t tell Seth; I can’t. He doesn’t want or need me – but his child does.” With a tear-edged but steady gaze, Claire had stared imploringly at her aunt.

Sighing, Aunt Ellen had taken her hand once again and said, “Then, Claire, we’re having a baby. Well, there are lots of things to get ready! When is our little one due?”

Claire had laughed in relief.

From that moment on, Claire told Naomi, the growing baby had been Aunt Ellen’s spur. She’d spent more time on her physio, and improved almost daily. Unpacking her sewing machine, she’d sent Claire and Kacey – who, with no judgement, had become a godmother extraordinaire – to buy fabric, and spent hours sewing for the coming infant. Claire picked up the pillow still lying in Sebastian’s crib, on which her aunt had embroidered his name.

“See, Naomi? I know it’s a shock, but we’re a family. And Sebastian is just perfect; I can’t describe what I felt when I held him for the first time. Sebastian is my life now, and I can give him everything. I’m honestly, truly happy.”

Naomi had listened without interrupting. But, when Claire finished speaking, she spoke steadily. “Claire, he
is
beautiful – and you’re doing an amazing thing. But… I can’t apologise enough for my brother’s behavior. If he were here, I swear I’d kill him. I thought there was something going on between you – I can’t believe I didn’t call him on it.” Naomi paused. “I also thought he had grown out of his insecurities.”

Seeing Claire’s arrested expression, she continued with a sigh. “Claire, you know what happened to our parents – you’ll also have spotted, no doubt, that Seth doesn’t talk about it. But there’s more; I think this just solidified everything in him. It happened when we were children: we had another brother, Luke. He died when he was about fifteen. Seth was there, and he was just a kid himself; Luke’s death hit him really hard. Then, barely any time at all afterwards, our grandparents had a car accident and they both died. And what with his years in the army… I guess Seth doesn’t feel like he can get close to anyone, so he’s never let himself care too much. I’ve seen him reject woman after woman – but I’ve never seen him react to anyone like he did to you. Claire, he’s been miserable… scary, even, since you left.”

Claire thought back. She remembered moments Seth’s eyes had clouded over, and he’d seemed so far away… And that first night at Sinamatella, when he’d been so close to confiding something to her: she’d assumed it’d been about
her
. And then she’d just moved to kiss him – when that was exactly the opposite of what he’d needed… Recalling this, Claire felt sick. Perhaps Seth’s alienation of her hadn’t been only
his
fault after all. She stood quietly, suddenly understanding the complexities that made Seth the man he was. Her heart ached so much for him. There’d been so much loss, so much tragedy in his life. Could a person ever be whole again after losing so much?

Claire sighed, and hugged Naomi closely. “Thank you for telling me all that, Naomi,” she said. “I’m so glad I finally understand. But what I said, I meant: Sebastian and I are doing fine – and we’re not on our own.”

Just then, Aunt Ellen called them downstairs for the tea they’d forgotten: her cure for all the ills in life. Naomi, despite her turmoil, couldn’t help smiling when they walked in to see Sebastian contentedly asleep on Tony’s shoulder.

The rest of Naomi and Tony’s visit passed quickly. They were content – and, Claire could quickly see, broody – spending time with Sebastian. Claire carried on with her new life, living quietly and working hard: now, finally, finishing the tale of Shoko, who had been so lost. And, most centrally of all, loving Sebastian.

Naomi did not talk about Seth again, but she knew what had to be done. Unnoticed by Claire, she had taken a polaroid of Sebastian in his mother’s arms. She had scrawled something on the back of the photo, and mailed it.