Christmas Eva (3 page)

Mrs. Anderson stood. “Nurse?”

Harry kept talking. “So, I was in town today and thought I'd call in and see how you were doing. Don't tell anyone, but I had an audition for the pantomime at the Adelphi theatre in the center of town. They want me to be a pirate.”

Eva's fingers laced into his. His heart rate increased at her touch.

“Keep talking to her. She's responding to you,” the nurse said. “Someone page Dr. Jameson stat.”

Tears rolled down Mrs. Anderson's cheeks, and Harry swallowed hard, feeling pretty choked himself.

He rubbed her arm gently with his free hand. “I mean, a pirate?”

Eva's eyes flickered and opened, fixing on Harry's face.

Mrs. Anderson gasped. “She's awake!”

The nurse looked at him. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Mr. Lyell. It'll be family only now.”

Harry nodded and stood, aware of Eva's eyes fixed on him. “I have to run. Still think you're pretty,” he grinned. “See you around.” He backed out of the ward, praying hard, as medics and the rest of her family rushed in.

 

 

 

 

2

 

Eva sat by the window looking out at the cold November rain. She tugged the blanket tightly around her shoulders as she mentally repeated the chant her father had taught her to quell an oncoming panic attack. She hated the rain. Simply the sound of it hitting the window, or even the shower running, could be enough to trigger a full blown crisis. Not so much now, but when she first came home, it happened every single time.

She solved that problem by bathing rather than showering and staying away from the windows. Now, with help, and so long as she stayed inside when it rained, she was all right. Or, maybe she stayed inside in case it rained. Or she just stayed inside—full stop. If the forecast looked good, she might let her parents take her to church, but that rarely happened. She'd rather listen online. It was safer that way.

“Eva?” Felicity's voice and rapid footsteps echoed through the house. How could one person make so much noise? And why was she home in the middle of the day? Had she been fired? Maybe she'd actually taken a lunch break for once rather than grabbing something to eat in her office or as she walked along the busy corridors of the local theatre where she worked?

“In here.”

Felicity ran in, letting a blast of cold air with her. “Guess what?”

“You got the promotion at work.” Eva studied her sister's reflection. Her eyes were bright, she was out of breath, and her cheeks were rosy from the cold air outside. She looked the picture of health and vitality.

“Well, yes, but better than that.”

Eva released the brake on the wheelchair and pushed the wheels, slowly turning the chair to face Felicity. “Huge pay rise?”

Felicity tossed her hat, gloves and scarf to the sofa. “Well, a little one.”

“They forecast snow?” Eva gave one more guess. Her sister loved snow, almost as much as Eva did.

“No, unfortunately. Although it'd be good if they did, and that's your third guess.” She perched on the arm of the sofa, a huge grin on her face. “So I shall just have to tell you.”

“Go on then. The suspense is killing me…” Eva rolled her eyes dramatically.

“The pantomime rehearsals started today at work. I got a flyer for it, and I can get tickets for the matinee on the opening day at a reduced rate. I thought we could all go, just like we used to when we were kids.”

Eva stifled a sigh. “Why would I want to go to the panto? I'm not a kid anymore. Neither of us are.”

“Oh, yes we are.”

“Oh, no we're not.” The automatic panto reply was out before Eva realized.

“See.” Felicity elbowed her. “Look at this.” She dropped the flyer onto Eva's lap. “And no, I didn't arrange it. Hiring actors isn't in my remit—that's up to the individual directors. I'm just deputy manager. Well, I am now.”

“Really? Deputy GM at the Adelphi? Congrats.” Eva leaned forwards hugging her sister tightly. She didn't understand why Fi hadn't just come out with that right off instead of hiding it in the midst of something else. “That's a huge thing. I'm so pleased for you.”

Felicity nodded. “Second in command to April. And I have a proposition to make, but first read the flyer.”

Eva glanced down. The flyer had landed face down on her lap. “
Peter Pan
.”

“It used to be your favorite book, remember.”

“No, that was
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
”

“OK, second favorite. We've been to JM Barrie's house in Scotland.”

“I remember.” She glanced back down. “Introducing Lily Raines as Peter Pan, Bill Watts as Dame Able Mabel and Deanna Cline as Wendy,” she read. “I've never heard of any of them.”

Felicity sighed. “Read the front.”

Eva turned the flyer over and gasped. Matthew Lyell's face, under a long black curly wig, smirked at her, with a twinkle in his eye.
Peter Pan
, the headline screamed,
starring Matthew Lyell as Captain Hook
.

Felicity's grin was huge. “So, I figured we'd go, you could see him and—”

Eva shook her head. “No.” She put the flyer on the windowsill.

“Evie?”

“No. It may be part of a traditional English Christmas, but panto is for kids. I mean, come on, Fi, the hero is a woman dressed as a man, the dame is a bloke dressed as a woman, and the heroine is a woman who needs constant rescuing.”

“And you love the whole pantomime thing. The slapstick comedy, singing, he's behind you, oh no he isn't and so on.”

Eva folded her arms tightly across her chest. “It's for kids.”

“It stars Matthew Lyell.”

“And the last time I saw him was shortly before this happened.” She pointed to the chair.

“Actually, the last time you saw him was in the hospital when you woke. He was holding your hand and talking to you.”

Eva pushed a hand through her hair. “I don't remember that. Anyway, I said no. I don't want to go. There'll be too many people looking and pointing at me.”

Disappointment etched on her face, Felicity stood. “OK.” Her tone was flat as she scooped up her hat, scarf, and gloves. She shoved them into her pocket and turned to the door.

“What else did you want to ask?” Eva frowned focusing on the heavy downpour. Fi had said something about a proposition, but whatever it was probably involved leaving the house anyway.

“Nothing important. It can wait.”

“OK.” Eva shrugged and turned back to the window. “Sorry, it's raining…and I hate the rain.”

Felicity hugged her briefly. “I know.” Then she hurried from the room.

Her mother's and sister's voices floated down the hall from the kitchen.

“Well, I tried, Mum. She won't even contemplate the idea.”

“Give her time.”

“It's been months,” Felicity replied. “And she barely leaves the house or even gets dressed some days, unless she has too. I just thought it'd be fun. A blast from the past.”

“And it will be,” Dad said firmly. “We'll come with you.”

“Do I get Grotbags a ticket or arrange a babysitter for her?”

Eva rolled her eyes. She hated the nickname Grotbags and Felicity knew it. But she had every right to be grotty,
didn't she
? Sue was dead, and she was stuck in a wheelchair. All because some idiot shot the lights.

She pushed her chair into the hall, and slowly down the narrow corridor to her room, or rather, the dining room they'd turned into a temporary bedroom for her.

She managed to get the chair through the doorway and into the room.

The signed photo of Matthew Lyell, now framed, stood on the table, three dried flowers from the bouquet he'd sent her next to it. She picked up her phone to see the photo of her, Sue, and Matthew Lyell on the lock screen.

“It's not fair.” The constant, familiar prayer-come-complaint fell from her lips.

Why? Why was I worth saving when Sue wasn't? And why leave me like this? What use am I to anyone with a broken back?

She couldn't go anywhere public—church didn't count. There at least people didn't stare at her and talk over her as if she weren't there.

She needed to move on with her life, but doing what? She did makeup and hair and that was not a sit down job. She couldn't go back, not in a wheelchair. She needed to move forward with her life, but how?

 

~*~

 

Harry left his dressing room at the Adelphi, and headed for the main auditorium. Rehearsals were in full swing. Despite his initial misgivings, he was having a ball and loving every minute of it. He'd discovered a gift for comic timing he didn't know he had. He'd always assumed the character of James Hook was evil, but actually, Harry felt he was just a ‘lost boy' in a man's body. Harry's tendency to adlib had left the cast in stitches and the director rolling his eyes, but usually his lines stayed in.

And he got to sing. He loved singing. He wasn't sure why he had to learn a song about a cow and the number of legs it had, especially as there wasn't a single cow in Neverland anyway. Maybe he should change it to a squid or something. Or he insisted on having a cow on board the ship. But he had to face it; everyone loved the pantomime horse or cow. And the final number was one of his favorite pop songs which was an added bonus.

He passed the new assistant general manager just as he reached back stage. “Congrats on the promotion, Miss Anderson…Felicity,” he corrected. He'd been surprised to discover Eva's sister here.

Felicity smiled. “Thank you. How are rehearsals going?”

“Lots of fun,” he paused. “I've been meaning to ask for a while, how's Eva doing?”

“Not so well.” She moved back against the wall, to avoid the gaggle of lost boys running down the hallway. “She's been home a few months now, but she won't leave the house, apart from church, and only then if we can guarantee it won't rain.”

“Rain?” He waved to the lost boys, grinning as they waved back.

“She hates the rain. Sometimes it brings on panic attacks. She's also confined to a wheelchair.”

A wheelchair?
Shock slammed into him. “Is she paralyzed?”

Felicity sighed heavily. “She can move her arms and legs, but can't walk. It's almost like she's given up. She quit her job. She isn't eating much.” She shrugged. “It's as if she died in that accident, too.”

Concern speared Harry. He was still praying constantly for Eva. He'd been instantly drawn to her. He'd go as far as to say it was a long distance crush, a bit like he knew from fan letters, women had on him. “Tell her I say hi.”

She smiled. “I will do. Have a fun rehearsal.”

“Oh, I will.”

One of the boys came running back to him. “Mr. Lyell, you're needed on stage.”

Harry swung the kid onto his shoulders. “Then we best be away to the Jolly Roger, arr Jim lad,” he said as James Hook.

 

~*~

 

On his way back to his hotel that evening, Harry resisted the urge to jump in the puddles. Why did working with kids all day bring out the child in him? His mind returned to Eva. Should he go and see her, or would that be classed as creepy? He didn't want her to feel like he was stalking her, but somehow their lives kept intertwining.

Reaching his small hotel room, he dropped to his knees by the bed, praying for Eva. He'd love to see her again, if that were possible. She hadn't left his prayers or thoughts since he'd heard of her accident. OK, he'd only met her twice; once in April and once in May. He was the first person she'd seen when she woke from her coma. And there was something in the way she looked at him.

Wasn't there?

Oh, maybe he was imagining it, and there was nothing there. But he had to find out. If only he could work out a way of seeing her again.

 

~*~

 

Sunday morning, Harry slid his long, black overcoat over his suit and put his shades on. He was old school enough to believe in wearing his Sunday best to church. He walked the short distance from the hotel to the church he'd found—Headley Baptist. He'd looked it up on-line and even downloaded a few of the sermons to check out what the teaching was like. It really seemed like his kind of church, so he was filled with eager anticipation for worshipping there.

He found a seat at the back, pleased it was padded chairs and not the hard wooden pews in his parents' home church, and immersed himself in his usual pre-service routine of reading the notice sheet and looking up the Bible reading and sermon passages. These he read through slowly, before praying over the passage, and for the pastor who'd be leading and teaching that morning.

A familiar voice filled his ears as he raised his head. Shock almost knocked him sideways. Eva sat in a wheelchair, pushed by her sister. She
was
thin, her now short hair still looked damp from being freshly washed, and her eyes sad. Her clothes hung off her.

“What's wrong with the back row? No one can see me there.” Her whisper carried to him.

“The back row is full because we're later than normal.” Felicity didn't sound irate or upset as she slotted the wheelchair into a space on the end of the short row of chairs to the left hand side of the chapel. “And no one will look at you anyway. They're not here to watch you, but to worship God. And we can't sit with Mum and Dad because they're on duty upstairs this morning and haven't saved us a place. Besides, you normally complain about being ignored in this contraption.”

“Only in restaurants,” she sighed. “But not here, in a designated wheelchair space. I would like a hymn book with my pew, thank you.”

“Silly,” Felicity replied, sitting next to her. “It's here or nowhere.”