Chapter 10 #3
“Umm, just Dougie.” I admitted truthfully.
Lying was bad and a sure-fire way down the path to hell.
I did not want to meet the devil.
Horns freaked me out.
“How is McGregor?” Matt queried blandly.
“Good. Would you like to see the texts? We were just catching up.” I blurted out.
Of all the things to say.
Why had I said that?
And why was this feeling of guilt bugging me.
Matt stopped and peered down at me, an unreadable look in his eyes.
He regarded me for a moment then asked, “Why would I want to do that, poppet?”
“No reason.” I mumbled.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid.
“Mmm.” was all he said.
What kind of an answer was that?
“I haven’t said hello to Hannah or Adam as yet. Shall we see them first? And I spotted your hot ex with her parents. She gave me the evil eye, Matt. Felt as if she was putting a voodoo curse on me.” I started us moving again.
As much as I wanted to see Bella, I didn’t want to risk Matt experiencing ‘bump envy’.
We were back to being us, at ease with each other.
Seeing his best friend’s pregnant wife might remind him his own wife was keeping her ovaries on lock down.
The night progressed slowly.
I socialized at Matt’s side, laughed when necessary, paid attention when necessary, stayed quiet then spoke when bloody necessary.
I hated it.
Then came the picture taking part.
Matt’s parents had hired a professional photographer to immortalize their wedding anniversary on film.
I enjoyed posing with my dashing knight, even when he sent me mock frowns for pulling silly faces.
The twins had stolen me away again, we were in the Ballroom Reception, the beautiful marble and mirrored walls reflected every beam of light.
A few guests were milling around as Natty teased Nikki about her lack of boyfriend.
I defended her, stating firmly that boys were drama and reminding them both about the overbearing protectiveness of their uncles.
And if they were bad, their father would be worse.
A surgeon?
Complete access to medical drugs that could kill in seconds?
A working relationship with coroners who could falsify causes of death?
Ha.
Natty’s expression became one of worry when I pointed that out.
Probably thinking twice about having a boy over for dinner.
Then my pocket buzzed.
I grinned, wondering what Dougie was texting now and pulled it out.
My eyes widened when I realized it was a call, cautious joy filled me when I saw who was calling.
“Jamal?” I turned from the girls, walking a few steps away.
“Hi! Jamal how are-” His frantic words tumbled over each other and in minutes the room started to spin around me.
I heard him, knew he was speaking but the roar building between my ears distorted his words.
The intense wave of pain inside my chest disappeared as fast as it occurred, and the room kept spinning.
My balance was off…
but that couldn’t be right.
Balance was my business.
I was a ballerina.
So why could I see my own reflection falling to the marble floor in the mirror?
The roaring was so loud, too loud, then everything went black…
“Daddy!”
Matt jumped, startled at the shriek coming over the soft strains of music and the background hub of guests chatting.
He turned from his conversation with Adam, frowning even as his brother asked, “Was that Nikki?”
“I don’t know.” Matt was already moving with Adam towards the sound.
They pushed their way through the throngs of people and were halfway across the immense space when they spotted Stuart with Hannah on his heels.
Both wore frenzied looks as they forcefully moved people out of their way.
“ Daddy! ”
Adam looked at Matt.
“That’s Nikki.”
Then they themselves hurried through the people, catching up to their sister and her husband soon after.
Nikki stood by the private entrance from the Reception into the Ballroom.
Her face was pale, her blue eyes wide with fright.
“Darling, what is it? What’s wrong?” Stuart reached her first, grabbing her face between his hands as Hannah began to fuss over her.
She pulled away and gestured behind her.
“It’s Madi, she fainted.”
Matt blinked once.
Frozen at the sight of his other niece crouched over his wife who laid still on the marble floor.
“Poppet?” In seconds he was kneeling beside them, pulling her unconscious body into his arms and shaking her lightly.
“What happened?”
Natty was visibly upset as Stuart rushed over and started taking charge.
“Let her go, Matt.” Stuart ordered brusquely.
“Matthew! Bloody hell, man. Let me check her over. Natty, darling, did she hit her head in the fall?”
“I don’t know, Daddy. It h-happened so fast.”
Heart in throat, Matt reluctantly allowed Stuart to gently take her from his arms.
“What happened?” he asked hoarsely, anxiously observing Stuart check her pulse.
“She just fainted, Uncle Matt.” Natty said tearfully.
A crowd was gathering around them.
Natty wrung her hands as she continued.
“She got a call moments ago from someone named Jamal, then she fainted.”
Stuart was carefully arranging her limp limbs into the recovery position.
“Give us some room.” Adam barked at the onlookers.
The concierge began to politely herd people back.
Matt’s mind was racing.
God.
She wasn’t moving.
He searched around the voluminous skirt of her dress.
“Where’s her mobile? Damn it. Natalia! Where’s her bloody phone?”
“There.” Natty pointed a few feet away and Matt scrambled towards it.
“Hello? Hello? Jamal?” The line was still open.
Thank God.
Seconds later he heard Jamal’s voice calling for Madi.
“It’s Matt here. Madi’s fainted. What’s going on?” His face became drawn as Jamal brought him up to speed.
Bollocks.
A low groan came from her and Matt’s eyes snapped in her direction.
She was coming to.
“I’ll call you back shortly. She’s waking up.” Matt advised before hanging up the call and going to her side.
“What on earth is going on here?” his father’s loud and annoyed voice came from the back of the crowd.
Matt focused on his wife, stroking her cold face, willing her to open her eyes.
“Give her some room, Matt.” Stuart reminded him.
She groaned again, eyelids fluttering.
“Poppet,” Matt called soothingly.
“Sweetheart, open your eyes.”
It took her a few tries, and when she did open her eyes Matt’s chest tightened at the look of horror on her face.
“It’s ok. It’s ok. I’ll get you there, poppet.” he immediately began to chant in hopes of calming her down.
But it wasn’t ok.
Bloody hell.
How was he going to make this ok?
The screams echoing in my head couldn’t get past the lump in my throat.
I was on the fucking floor and Matt kept saying it was ok.
I tried to sit up but Stuart held me down.
When I began to struggle Matt pushed him back and helped me sit up, still muttering ‘it’s ok, poppet’.
It wasn’t ok.
Snippets of Jamal’s words replayed themselves in my head.
Oh God.
Oh God, please no.
Mom…
hospital…
think it’s a diabetic coma…
come home.
It didn’t make sense.
Auntie Cleo didn’t have diabetes.
Her blood pressure was an issue, but diabetes?
Why had no one picked up on that?
Matt was cupping my face between his hands.
The sympathy pouring from his eyes…
he knew.
The air caught in my throat.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t fucking breathe!
Matt’s face became alarmed at my harsh intake of breath.
He grabbed one of my hands and placed it on his chest.
“Deep breaths, poppet.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling at a slow pace.
“Look at me. Deep breaths.”
I couldn’t breathe.
My chest was tight, it felt akin to an impending heart attack.
As much as I tried to fill my lungs with air, I just couldn’t breathe.
“What’s happening, Matthew?”
“Is she going to pass out?”
“Daddy! She can’t breathe.”
“Do something, Stuart.”
“Someone call an ambulance.”
Matt squeezed my hand against his chest.
His attention was solely on me.
“Breathe, poppet.”
I couldn’t fucking breathe.
“She’s having a panic attack.” Matt was trying to keep his tone even, like his breathing, but I saw the worry in his eyes.
“Slow your breathing, sweetheart. Come on. Feel my chest, breathe with me.”
I tried, really I did.
My frantic gasps for air didn’t slow down.
There were so many faces above me, around me.
God.
They were stifling me.
Breathing the air I needed.
There wasn’t enough air.
Aunt Cleo.
My auntie.
I needed my auntie.
The choker around my neck was living up to its name.
With my free hand I viciously clawed at it, feeling no relief when the clasp snapped and the necklace fell into my lap.
“Slow breaths, Madi.” Stuart grabbed my hand, pressing fingers to my wrist as he checked my pulse.
My eyes darted wildly between him and Matt.
They were smothering me.
Stealing my air.
I tried to pull away from Matt and he came closer, pushing me further into panic mode.
His eyes were filled with sorrow.
Stuart was too close, they were both too close.
I needed to go.
I had to go.
I needed to be home with my family.
Oh God.
Auntie Cleo.
Please God, don’t take her from me.
Not like this.
Not when our last words to each other had been hurtful.
She was the link, my only living link to them .
Her presence meant they were, they had been, that they lived.
If she was gone, I would lose my link.
“Matt.” Stuart called harshly.
“Let her go. She’s getting worse. We need to give her some room.”
The moment they released me I scrambled back, gasping for air.
I scooted across the marble floor until my back hit the wall and still my lungs burned.
Matt got to his feet, slowly he approached to where I sat pressed against the wall clutching my chest.
“Look at me, poppet.” he commanded but stopped when he saw my wild eyes.
“Slow breaths. Nice and easy. I’m going to help you stand. Ok? Focus on your breathing.”
I watched him take the few steps that brought his shoes to the edges of my dress.
Then he picked me up.
He leaned in close and I tossed my head to the side, desperately trying to control the panic raging inside me as I cowered against the wall.
“What is going on here?” someone bellowed.
My gaze darted to the small crowd across the room that was building back up in numbers again.
My panic attack seemed to be the show of the night.
It was Grumps who’d shouted.
It was Grumps who was marching towards us with the rest of Matt’s family in tow.
A swarm of the Bradley line about to descend upon me.
I wanted my family, not them.
“She’s having a panic attack, Grumps.” Stuart said.
“Do you bloody job and get these people back into the ballroom.” Adam bristled at the concierge again.
“Slow breaths, poppet.” Matt advised, trying his best to calm me down.
“Stop coddling her.” Grumps burst out angrily as he drew next to Matt.
“Grumps, not now,” Matt bit out, turning to glare at his grandfather.
Grumps stared at me for a second while Matt’s attention was focused on him.
The stinging slap across my face was unexpected to say the least.
Matt hissed in disbelief even as Grumps got right up in my face.
He had hit me, bitch-slapped me like a pro.
A few murmurs of shock rippled through the space.
Damn.
I was shocked too!
“Stop this at once. You’re a Bradley, act like one.” Grumps demanded of me.
I gasped, loud and quick.
Then Grumps’s eyes softened and he patted my shoulder.
“Now take a nice deep breath, Madison.” His tone was gruff but his eyes were a clear grey sea of expectancy.
He expected me to get my shit together.
I gasped again, not as desperately as seconds earlier.
“That’s it,” Grumps continued to speak.
“Slowly. Again.”
I inhaled raggedly through my mouth as my eyes filled with water.
Grumps’s expression resumed its usual sternness.
“Don’t you dare cry in public. I will not allow such foolishness. It is a trait of the simpleminded masses unable to control their emotions.”
“Grumps, I swear to God, I’ll-”
“Be quiet, Matthew.” Grumps barked at him before twisting his body sideways.
“Someone get me a bloody chair.” He turned back to me.
“Keep breathing slowly. Really, Madison. This behaviour just won’t do. Slowly now, that’s it. Creating such a scene, I’m very disappointed in you. That’s it, nice and slow. Forcing me to hit you like that. I’m an old man, think about my brittle bones.”
The more he spoke the calmer my breathing got.
I think it was due to incredulity.
First he smacked me, now he was telling me off for him smacking me?
Grumps was certifiable, but his technique worked.
I could breathe again, shaky and loud, but I was breathing.
“Now what is all this kerfuffle about, Madison?” Grumps kept his hand on my shoulder as Matt reached for me.
Grumps wasn’t having any of it.
He levelled a hard stare at his grandson, eyebrows raised.
“Get a chair for your wife. Can you not see she’s unwell?”
Matt’s features jumped from extreme worry to intense frustration then back to the worry.
“Matt,” I croaked out.
He grabbed me into a tight hug, ignoring his muttering grandfather.
“I know, poppet,” he whispered above my ear, his hold gentled at my barely audible whimper.
“I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“H-home,” I inhaled sharply and felt Matt’s body tense, as if gearing up to deal with another one of my panic attacks.
“I have to go home.”
He leaned back, scrutinizing my face before nodding.
“Let me make a few calls then we can leave.”
I shook my head vehemently, clutching his jacket between my trembling fingers.
“No. Now. I have to go now, Matt. Please, please, please. I have to go.”
“You’re upsetting her, Matthew,” the cultured voice of Portia Bradley entered my ears.
“That’s the last thing she needs if she’s prone to panic attacks.” My mother-in-law glided towards us.
She gave Grumps a sidelong glance to which he huffed then stepped back, allowing her the room to approach Matt and me.
“I don’t know what has occurred but I’d suggest you take Madison home now.” She rested a graceful hand on Matt’s shoulder, leaning in to murmur, “Whatever it is, Matty, do as she says and take her home.”
I didn’t know if she wanted me gone because I’d ruined her fancy party, or whether she’d recognized the fact I was teetering on the edge of a cliff right now.
All I knew was Matt nodded once and we left.
And I was grateful.
For the first time since we met, he didn’t demand I buckle up.
He held me on his lap, curtly issuing orders on his phone as Dan drove through the streets of London.
My face remained buried in his neck as I clung to him.
“We’ll be home soon, sweetheart,” he assured me in between calls.
“George is packing for us and Rachel is sorting out things with the pilot. We should be in the air within an hour.”
A low whimper fell from my lips.
An hour.
Add to that a further 6-7 hours flight.
What if she – I stopped those thoughts immediately.
She wouldn’t, couldn’t…
she had better not do this to me.
“Madi,” Matt dug his fingers into my back, the perfect amount of pressure to remind me he was here with me.
I wasn’t alone.
Whatever he planned on saying got put on hold as his cell rang.
His demeanour once again became business-like and I tuned out his conversation.
Diabetic coma.
A coma.
What if she never woke up?
How would life be without my Aunt Cleo in it?
We hadn’t spoken since Thanksgiving last year, the silence from her end had been painful, but deep down I knew things would eventually resolve itself.
I thought maybe a couple of years give or take, enough time for her anger to mellow out, then things would get better.
This was certain punishment for my betrayal.
A part of me would cease to exist if she died.
There, I thought the words.
Die.
Dead.
Death.
Six frigging feet under.
Worm food.
My arms tightened around Matt’s shoulders in response to the fear growing inside me.
Not breaking his conversation he adjusted me in his lap with one hand before patting my lower back.
“Adam, I’ll call you once we land. Rachel has most of the paperwork at the office and the rest you can pick up at mines (pause) Yes, I’ll tell her (pause) No, I haven’t spoken to Mum or Dad since we left, you can fill everyone in for me. How are the girls? (pause) Right. Ok, I’ll call you when we land. Bye.”
Matt sighed then kissed the side of my face before making another call.
I closed my eyes, maybe this was all some horrible nightmare.
Maybe we hadn’t even arrived at the Anniversary party and we’d fallen asleep after making love in the backseat.
Maybe it wasn’t even Thursday!
“It’s Matt here, Dante.” Matt’s deep voice rumbled through his chest.
“I have some bad news.”
With half my attention I listened to him inform Dante of my aunt’s illness and our impending flight.
Knowing that I was in no state to talk, Matt promised to have me call him as soon as we landed; it was the only way Dante would get off the phone without speaking to me.
“Darling,” Matt put his cell away and slowly rubbed my back.
“Madison, look at me. Please.”
I raised my face from the sanctuary of his neck and he made a low sound at my expression.
“She’ll be ok. I’m sure of it.”
“Don’t.” I whispered.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Matt’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard then nodded.
I took a deep breath, blinking fast.
There were no tears, strange of course, considering I felt as if my world was on the brink of a cataclysmic event.
Grumps’s harsh command reverberated inside my skull though.
“Matt, she hates me-”
“She doesn’t. Don’t think that way, poppet. Your aunt doesn’t hate you.”
“We fought and now I might not have the chance to make it right between us.” I took another deep breath to steady myself.
“If anything happens to her – if she – I’ll never forgive myself, Matt. Never.”