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Her heart lurched.
Ryan.
A golden little boy framed in gold.
The photograph stood on the bedside chest of drawers, turned to face where she lay. Natalie’s hand automatically reached out to bring it closer to her.
He was laughing, his sherry-brown eyes sparkling with delight. He had a soccer ball clutched in his arms, and he wore a red tracksuit and navy blue sneakers. The background was a park she didn’t recognise, but she remembered how Ryan loved playing with balls and balloons: kicking them, catching them, throwing them, bouncing them.
A happy child, giving happiness. Poignant memories flashed into Natalie’s mind: Ryan splashing joyfully in a bath, squealing excitedly as she swung him out and bundled him into a towel, holding him close, smelling the sweet clean freshness of his skin and hair; Ryan uninhibitedly snuggling up to her, saying, ‘I love you, Mummy.’
Natalie hugged the photograph to her as she lay back and closed her eyes, savouring the pictures that slipped into her mind. Ryan, taking his first steps towards her, the surprise, the glee that he could do it shining from his eyes; the joy of riding his tricycle on his second Christmas; the pride of achievement when he learnt to swim... ‘Look at me, Mummy!’
I couldn’t have been a bad mother, Natalie thought with heart-lifting conviction. My boy meant the world to me. My son...Ryan...
Chimes echoed through the house, insistently calling for her attention, too many chimes for it to be a clock. The doorbell, she realised, shaking herself out of the doze she had drifted into. The doorbell could only mean Damien. She had shut everyone else out of her life.
The framed photograph of Ryan slid off her stomach as she pushed herself up from the pillows. She picked it up, gazed sadly at the laughing little boy, then reinstated the golden memory where it had sat on the chest of drawers. It wasn’t a piece of celluloid she needed to hold, but a live flesh-and-blood child.
The door-chimes called again.
She fumbled her feet into her shoes, raked her fingers through her hair, then made her way out to the foyer to let Damien in. She opened the door and was instantly subjected to a concentrated scrutiny from caring grey eyes that bored into her soul, filling the emptiness there.
‘Are you all right, Natalie?’
She nodded. ‘Come in, Damien.’
His glance fell on her suitcase and shoulder-bag as he entered. ‘You haven’t been here long?’
‘Long enough.’ She closed the door, then gestured sweepingly at the living rooms open to view. ‘This...doesn’t feel like home to me.’ She searched his eyes, anxious for the answers she needed. ‘What was I like...as a person?’
‘On the day you were married you were filled with joy and love and laughter, brightly anticipating all the good things in life. You were...’ his voice softened, deepened ‘...the most desirable woman in the world.’
‘You were there...on my wedding-day?’
‘Yes.’ His mouth took on an ironic twist. ‘That was when I met you for the first time.’
‘What did I become, Damien?’
‘Withdrawn, introspective, unresponsive. No smiles for anyone..
.except Ryan. This past year you’ve been sullen, morose, isolated and alone. People could talk to you and were ignored. I doubt you knew they were talking to you, myself included.’
‘Why did you put up with it?’
‘Who wants to see a candle snuffed out? A flower that fails to bloom?’
She shuddered at the images evoked. ‘I don’t like this house,’ she cried. ‘It’s...it’s sterile. It isn’t me, Damien. If it was, I don’t want it to be me any more.’
‘What do you want, Natalie?’ he asked softly.
She went to him unhesitantly, her hands resting lightly on his chest, her eyes imploring his for understanding and acceptance.
‘Take me away from here, Damien.’
His arms came around her, drawing her closer. ‘Yes,’ he said simply.
She leaned on his wonderful strength, laying her head contentedly on his shoulder. She felt his chest rise and fall. A long breath wavered warmly through the short waves of her hair. She didn’t know or care where Damien would take her. She wanted the candle to burn brightly, and the flower to bloom, and she wanted to be with the man who believed it was possible, who had cared enough to wait to see if it would happen.
