A/N Wow!! Thanks for all the reviews!! I'm getting quite good at this updating thing. . .sorry. . .another cliff hanger I think! Anyway, enjoy the chapter…I nervously await your opinion!
Chapter Twenty Four.
In truth, I'd already made my mind up. I couldn't live in shackles any more. My bags were packed, and I went to say one final goodbye to Bobbie before leaving. It really was tearing me up inside to know that I would never see him again, and the idea of leaving him on his death bad made me bubble inside with guilt I was wrong, I was wicked, I was human. But I could not sacrifice my life for him. My first thought was to take him with me, but he was far too ill, and besides he had a good life here. Not wanting for anything. But I had to go.
I dropped my bag by the door, and felt my way in the dark to his bed. My heart was thudding in my chest, but with excitement, I was finally getting back to the sea, finally getting back to Jack. I swept towards his bed, and gently touched his sweating forehead.
His eyes flickered slightly, and I stepped back in surprise. "Bobbie?" I said, softly.
"Get away from me." He cried, angrily.
"Bobbie. . ."
"I saw yer!" He panted.
"You should be resting." I said, quickly. He tried to push himself up, but the effort seemed to pain him, and he groaned. My heart began to pound furiously, how could I possibly leave my son in such a state? What mother could walk out on her dying son? I loved him so much, but if I remained I should hate him. He would be a constant reminder of what I had forsaken for him.
Then his eyes caught sight of my bag, and his anger turned to despair. He caught hold of my sleeve and pulled me towards him. "You're not going!" He said. "I won't let you."
"Bobbie. . ."I began, helplessly. His name was all I could utter. How could I justify walking out on him?
His eyes stared up at me defiantly. "You canna go!" He spluttered.
I gently touched his head. "I'm sorry, Bobbie. You know someday you'll understand, you'll meet someone who means as much to you as Jack means to me."
He refused to look at my face, and I coughed in an attempt to fill the silence. How could I expect a nine year old child to understand the concept of love? But children are not to be underestimated and I refused to 'dumb' things down for him.
"What about Pa?" he asked, stubbornly.
"Your father loves two people. One is himself, and the other is you." I told him. "You're very lucky, Bobbie, to have Roberto as your father. I didn't know mine. He believed children were there for a purpose, and that purpose was not to be seen."
"Where are you going?"
"A long way away."
"You can't!" He shouted, the anger taking control once more. It was only aggravating his weak state further, and he started spluttering uncontrollably.
"Bobbie, calm down!" I shrieked, in fear.
He was attempting to get up.
"Bobbie!" I screeched, in an attempt to quieten his fit. But the stubborn child refused to lay still, and I caught him in my arms as he pushed himself from bed. The door was flung open, and Roberto stepped into the room, nearly tripping over my packed bag. I felt guilty as I stood before him, trying to guide a shivering, feverish Bobbie back into bed. He was half unconscious as I tucked the covers over his frail body. Somehow being caught red handed makes one feel ten times more guilty.
"Call for the doctor." I said, urgently, not taking my eyes off the bed.
Roberto shook his head, his cold hand iced my shoulder, causing me to jump in horror.
"First you explain."
I spun round to face his cheerless face. "Call for the doctor, now!" I cried, passionately. "Your son is ill!"
"Thanks to you."
"You cannot lay this at my door." I said, coldly.
He grinned at me maliciously. "Robert told me why he ran away. And I can have a good guess at why he collapsed now. Running out on your dying son."
I couldn't look in his eyes, because through all his bitterness, his selfish angry words, I knew he was right. I was evil, heartless.
"Where are you meeting him?" He demanded. "Where?" He said, shaking me when I refused to answer. My reply was to turn to Bobbie, who was gasping on the bed in a state of consciousness.
"The doctor!" I said, I went to leave the room, but his arm prevented me from doing so. So instead I rang the bell for the maid. Miss Lacey came instantly, and I had a funny feeling that she had been listening at the door, it wouldn't surprise me. Maids are awfully nosy creatures.
"Miss Lacey, call for the doctor at once!" I exclaimed.
Her eyes roved the room in a second, resting on the bed. She nodded and left the room in a flounce.
"And now you have had your way." He said, with a cruel smile. He pulled out a small, shining Flintlock pistol from his overcoat. The light from the candle made it shimmer with wonder, when really it should have been black with death. I gasped, and stepped back. For a moment I thought he meant to turn the weapon on me, but he just stood there caressing the barrel with his smooth hands.
"Where is he?"
He was referring to Jack, and then it came to me. He was going to shoot Jack when I went to meet him. Jack would die thinking I had betrayed him, thinking I was Judas. I shook my head viciously.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
The clock had just struck ten, if I could keep Roberto delayed for long enough, Jack would give up and leave. I'd be forced to remain here, with my husband despising me, and my dying son, but at least Jack would still be alive. It was better to break his heart (if my lack of appearance would actually do that to him) then to kill him with my jealous husband.
But was it jealously that stained Roberto's hand? He spread himself around with many other women, he could hardly object to me doing the same. Perhaps it was pride, that I'd found someone who could hold my heart, longer then he could.
At that second the door was thrown open and Jarvis entered. He saw the gun, but did not give a sign of surprise. He progressed to the bed, and sat down beside Bobbie.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Roberto demanded, lifting the pistol and pointing it at Jarvis.
"The doctor told me not to leave the boy's side 'til he gets here, and that's what I intend to do." Jarvis said, poignantly.
His finger played carefully on the trigger, and his teeth grit ready to shoot.
"No!" I cried, angrily, pushing him to misaim the pistol. He stared at me in surprise. Jarvis didn't move, he didn't blink an eye, as his hand rested on Bobbie's feverish head. He sat there definitely comforting my son. An occupation I should have engaged. Jarvis was braver then me, I was a coward, sneaking out in the night.
Roberto never shot, but it was close run thing, as he struggled to rearrange himself. He glared at me.
"Where is he?" He barked, forgetting Jarvis's presence in the room, luckily for the sake of the old butler.
"He will have gone by now." I panted, trying desperately to convince him.
He lifted the pistol to the bed once more, but this time pointed it straight at Bobbie. My immediate thought was; he's out of his mind, he loved that child, there is no way he would deliberately hurt him. He must be mad, the pride has sent him delusional.
"Roberto?" I asked.
His mouth was pursed in a hard, grim, expression, his finger resting against the trigger. I could see the horror in his eyes, and I felt it in my heart. I could leave Bobbie for Jack, but I could not kill him for the aforementioned pirate.
"Stop!" I ordered him.
His hand fell at once, and the other went to my cheek, I backed away in disgust. There was no way Roberto would have pulled the trigger, but it didn't stop him threatening to do so.
"You are despicable, you could kill your own son to satisfy your pride, just to punish me!" I yelled at him. Bobbie groaned as he stirred.
"I always swore I'd kill Jack."
"You are pathetic."
"Ah, a man who swears an oath to do something and then backs down, he is pathetic. . ."
"You are just stubborn." I offered.
"Take me to him."
I took one last look at Jarvis and Bobbie, the latter was lying peacefully now, and it would be only minutes before the doctor arrived. I picked up my bag, and Roberto followed me from the room. The banister was my only friend, as I groped around in the darkness, it seemed the whole house had gone to sleep, or were otherwise listening behind their chamber doors.
We got to the doors, and he pushed them open.
"Where are you meeting him?" He growled.
"By the docks." I muttered. The dark night seemed well fit to reflect my mood, not a single star glittered in the sky, not a single ray of hope shone down from that blackness, as Roberto pushed me along. The pistol was held firmly in his hand.
He'd had it a long time. Cousin Rudolph had presented him with it when he was first promoted, and since then he had treasured it with a great deal of respect and lustre. To him it was a symbol of success, of the future, to me it presented nothing but death. I stared up, and shivered as the winds raged. There were no stars in that blackness, not one.