Part Forty-Two
"Ric," Diane said in complete astonishment at his words. "This is Connie we're talking about: the coldest, most manipulative woman I've ever met in my life." "Which shows just how little you know her," Ric replied a little stonily. "Connie is warm, loving, and more emotionally generous than any woman I have ever known." "And am I included in that list?" Diane demanded acidly, Ric's words cutting her to the core. Taking a deep breath for what he knew was coming, Ric gave Diane the truth, something he had been putting off for years now. "Diane," He began carefully. "Ever since the fiasco with Dominic Fryer, and I'm talking now about what he did to you, you have closed yourself off from everybody, a situation that has only become more pronounced since you chose to abort Steve's baby." Diane recoiled as though she had been slapped. "That has absolutely nothing to do with this," She muttered darkly. "Oh, but it does," Ric told her quietly. "I think that if Steve hadn't died, you wouldn't have done it." "You know why I did that," Diane said bitterly, refusing to meet Ric's gentle gaze. "Yes, I do," He assured her truthfully. "And I would never, ever blame you for making that choice. But because of what then happened to Chrissie, you felt unbearably guilty, and I don't think that has ever entirely left you. You might now be married to Owen, but you haven't emotionally given yourself to him, and I don't think you're happy." "The only time I was ever really happy, was when I was with you," Diane said quietly. "Yes, I know," Ric said regretfully. "And if Dominic Fryer hadn't happened, you might have been happy with me for a lot longer than you were. But I think we both know that it wouldn't have lasted." "But we could still try," Diane said almost desperately, and Ric could now see the tears standing in her eyes, all too ready to fall. "No," He told her quietly. "I'm not the man for you, Diane, and I don't think I ever was. I have far too many imperfections, things about me that you cannot deal with. A couple of years ago, when I couldn't stop gambling for neither love nor money, part of you despised my weakness. Believe me when I say that I frequently agreed with you on that point, and to some extent still do. Diane, I need a woman who, in spite of my numerous failings, can still support me with everything she has. I love Connie because she is rock for me when I need her to be, and because she neither expects nor demands that I change. We can accept each other's failings, which means that neither of us tries to make the other different to what we already are. I don't need to hide anything of who I am from Connie, even though at times I think I should. You need to accept that I have finally moved on from you, Diane," He continued gently. "Because I have actually found someone whom, in spite of her," He hesitated. "Extreme emotional independence is occasionally prepared to admit that she does need the particular brand of love I can give her, no matter how rare that verbal acknowledgement may be."
Connie had left the hospital as soon as was humanly possible, having pacified the relatives of the stabbing victim, and having seen him safely installed in the high dependency unit. She had drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she'd waited in the interminable Holby traffic, thinking that this must be the most badly designed city she had ever had the misfortune to work in. But when she reached home, she parked in the gravel drive next to Diane's far less conspicuous vehicle, and quietly let herself into the house. She wasn't sure what instinct had prompted her to be so quiet, but the slight temptation to eavesdrop must have had something to do with it. She moved on silent feet across the thick carpet, and stood in the lounge doorway, certainly unnoticed by Diane, and possibly unnoticed by Ric. It didn't escape Connie's gaze that Diane was visibly upset, and as she listened to Ric's clear belief in her, she could all too easily see why. He was explaining to Diane why he loved her, Connie, and it almost brought tears to Connie's own eyes to hear it.
"We were supposed to be talking about you," Diane said with a sniffle, digging in her handbag for a tissue. "But I think that what we have talked about has been a very long time in coming," Ric said quietly. "You haven't wanted to hear it, and I haven't wanted to say it. But it did need to be said, and now was as good a time as any." "I suppose I'm just finding it difficult, to put the Connie I know and the Connie you seem to know, together in the same person," Diane admitted ruefully. "In some things," Ric said a little heavily, his memories straying back to Boxing Day, and the state in which he'd found her. "You're not all that dissimilar." "Are you trying to tell me," Diane said with growing anger. "That just because the two of us were raped, that makes us similar specimens of the human race?" "No," Ric said calmly, far too used to Diane's spates of fury by now to be remotely bothered by them. "But it does perhaps account for the fact that you both surround yourselves with an emotional armour that the atom bomb probably couldn't penetrate." "Well, I've no doubt that she did something to deserve it," Diane threw back disgustedly, leaving a heavy, bitter silence in its wake. Connie stood there absolutely stunned, still unseen by either of them, as they were far too engrossed in their conversation. "I wish you hadn't said that," Ric said regretfully. "Why, are you going to sit there and tell me it isn't true?" Diane demanded forcefully, now really getting into her stride, all the bitterness and unfairness coming out through her deadly poisoned words. "Don't go any further with this, Diane," Ric warned her darkly. "Because I am already feeling the pull of divided loyalties. You wouldn't have recognised one iota of Connie's persona after Michael's idea of a Christmas row, though she funnily enough reminded me of you at the time. Do you remember, how it took me hours of persuasive reassurance to get out of you exactly what had happened? Well, Connie was exactly the same. Connie thought it was all her fault, just as you did, and she has suffered through just as many terrifying nightmares as you did. So don't ever let me hear you suggest that Connie deserved it. No one deserves something like that, Diane, no one." "I'm sorry," Diane said, and Connie thought that this was her opportunity to step in.
"A noncommittal silence is worth far more than a thousand empty apologies, Miss Lloyd," Connie said coldly, moving into the light from the open fire and bypassing the stricken look on Ric's face, to focus unerringly on Diane's wide-eyed slightly frightened gaze. Getting hurriedly to her feet, her cheeks flaming with mortification, Diane said, "I should go." "A very wise decision, Miss Lloyd," Connie agreed with her, escorting her to the front door and out onto the drive. But just before getting into her car, Diane turned back for one last attempt. "Connie, I…" She stopped, not knowing of anything she could say that might detract from the things she had obviously said in Connie's hearing. "Just forget it," Connie told her bitterly. "I wanted you to help him, Diane, not to remind him of one of the worst twenty-four hours of his life. If I'd known that all you would do was to verbally batter my lack of virtues as a fellow rape victim, which isn't a phrase I admit lightly, I never would have asked you here." All this had been said in Connie's quiet yet highly authoritative tones, but on finishing her cutting blow, Connie turned on her heel and marched back into the house, closing the door with infinite care, and not with the slam with which she wanted to bang down the lid on the box in her mind, that contained all the memories that Diane's furious words had undoubtedly resurrected.
Going into the kitchen, Connie poured herself a glass of orange juice from the fridge, and stood looking out of the window as she drank it, needing a little down time before she dealt with the conversation she had stumbled in on. Having given her a little time to calm down, as he knew she would need, Ric walked quietly into the kitchen, and slowly over to where Connie was standing. He had given her space in which to retreat, but she hadn't, and when he put his arms round her from behind, she didn't try to disentangle herself from his hold. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he pressed his cheek on hers, trying to say in a gesture all that he didn't know how to in words. Gradually, Connie began to relax, taking more comfort than she would ever admit to from being in Ric's arms, and having his broad, strong chest at her back. But eventually, it was Ric who broke the silence. "I'm sorry," He said, his cheek still laid on hers. "Don't be sorry about all of it," Connie said with a soft smile. "I was here for more than Miss Lloyd's accusations." "Yes, I did wonder," Ric said with a rueful smile of his own. "Your interruption was far too well timed to have been on the spur of the moment." Connie couldn't help but laugh, turning round within Ric's embrace. "I must say," "She said, her lips very close to his. "You did defend my honour most admirably." "She didn't mean it," Ric said, trying to soften Diane's blow. "Yes, she did," Connie replied matter-of-factly. "But I'm sure I'll get over it. Besides, Diane Lloyd is the last thing I want to talk about right now. All I plan on doing," She said, her arms going up around his neck. "Is taking the man I love to my bed, where I fully intend on matching his particularly exceptional skill in that department. Do you have any objections?" "You said, the man that you love," Ric said in astonishment, staring at her with a mixture of wide-eyed disbelief and tentative hope. "Mmm, yes, I did, didn't I," Connie said almost dismissively. "Well, how very careless of me." "Not if you really meant it," Ric said seriously. "I did," She replied, her eyes locking with his. "I meant every word." As his lips descended on hers, Connie knew that this was what was meant by the feeling of coming home. All that she wanted, all that she needed, resided here in this man in her arms, no longer in some illusive thing that she could spend the rest of her life searching for.
They were both entirely naked by the time they reached her bedroom, their clothes having been scattered haphazardly along the way. Their passion and need for each other was extreme, as though to combat the previous conversation that Ric had participated in and which Connie had overheard. When the duvet had been cast aside, they were on the bed in an instant, their legs entwining and their hands roving over every inch of skin they could reach. There was nothing slow and building about their loving, though their giving was infinitely tender. As Connie deftly brought him to full arousal with her mouth and hands, Ric buried his face in her sweetness, taking in every morsel of the essence that was pure Connie. He could never get enough of doing this to her, and when he nibbled delicately on her throbbing bud, she cried out, the vibration on his shaft feeling wholly delicious to him. But both seeming to sense what the other wanted, they eventually moved into that age old position, their bodies merging into one, whole being, consumed with love and passion that could have created a new star in the firmament on this special night. Their bodies fused together again and again, their need for each other soaring higher and higher, until they both crashed over the edge of desire with a cry of sheer wonder between them.
As they lay there afterwards, their breathing gradually returning to normal, Ric observed that Connie was shedding a few brief tears. "Don't you ever, ever do that to me again," She said a little hoarsely, laying a hand over the dressing that still covered his arm. "I couldn't bear to lose you, or to think that you were so unhappy that this seemed a necessary course of action for you. I know that I can't always be there when things get tough, but I am always there in here," She said, gently pushing his fringe back from his forehead. As Ric tried to assure her that he wouldn't do it again, he knew that even when he went back to Ghana in a couple of days, Connie would always be in his thoughts, and he in hers. Nothing, no matter how earth shattering could ever again come between them.