Chapter 21
Winter Haze
"I'm afraid I don't understand?" He acknowledged curiously.
"Oh, well I think I do!"
Her voice dropped to almost a whisper
Punctuating the truth of what she was about to reveal.
"You're so scared of doing anything else aren't you?
Oh, you're not afraid of guns, or terrorists, or even getting yourself killed.
But you are sooo afraid of a commitment.
Oh boy! You're just terrified that somebody might just want to care about you…"
He laughed nervously deflecting the truth back onto her,
"Well that's a pretty odd comment coming from you, Miss Brady!"
He asserted with a dramatic laugh.
Shaking her head vehemently,
"Well, we're not talking about me; we're talking about you."
She noted through a saccharine smile to conceal the sting of his astute observation.
"Well's that just it! Talking about you is somehow always off limits!" He exclaimed irritably.
"I mean if anyone in this room could be accused of running away from a commitment…"
The absurdity of it all amused the spy as she interrupted,
"Who's accusing who of what?" She cried indignantly
As she strolled around the island and away from him,
"At least I'm not running away from anything…" ~ March 1985.
Location: Donovan Manor Kitchen
"Leukemia?" Shane repeated the word incredulously.
The clank of the ladle against the All-Clad stockpot was the only evidence that the news had affected Simmons in similar fashion. His back still turned towards the two old friends, the kindly butler choked back a glistening tear. Clearing his throat,
"Master Shane, it's just about ready for the Mrs…"
Some habits had been hard for Simmons to break.
Shane stood abruptly and caught his pain-stricken face before the older man could look away "… I…I need to…check the linens…" Flustered, Simmons' words drifted off as he motioned towards the exit into the hall without making eye contact.
Edward spun around to address Simmons and back towards Shane raising his hand erratically,
"Whoa, whoa, Easy mate! I haven't made any conclusive diagnosis yet."
"But you said?"
Edward's head dropped into his hand as he rubbed his temple speaking rapidly to diffuse the situation,
"Look, I would like to rule out all respiratory infections before going down that road, but the patient's…."
"Kim's…" Shane corrected softly.
"Kim's," Edward acknowledged empathetically. " Hemoglobin is low on top of..."
"She's occasionally struggled with anemia in the past." Shane interrupted evenly.
"Yes, so I've learned from Dr. Curtis. But I also spoke with her sister who mentioned an aunt who died of leukemia recently."
"Their Aunt Sarah." Shane mumbled in acknowledgment.
"So I would be remiss if I didn't at least check…" Edward was nothing but thorough—something the spy respected of any professional he ran across. "My assistant is up there as we speak," Edward assured him. "Taking another round of blood so that we can do a more detail analysis, which should rule that out conclusively. For now, I'm treating this as possible pneumonia and prescribing a stronger antibiotic, which should arrive shortly…"
"Does she know?" He interrupted.
Too focused on explaining his methods, Edward halted suddenly and gave Shane a perplexed look. "No," He replied carefully. "I thought it best to keep this between us for now. No sense in upsetting the patie…Kim." Edward corrected thoughtfully.
Shane nodded in agreement before retreating towards the front window of the kitchen that possessed an expansive view of the front drive to the estate. An oppressive melancholy settled into the room like the fog had outside in the valley squelching the luminosity of the blanket of snow covering the Cotswold. Shane's hands settled into his black trouser pockets. No matter how subtle his friend's tactics were with Kimberly, Shane knew how Kimberly would react to him emotionally at this point. Vulnerability had never been her strong suit among many people. And he had tested the limits of their relationship too much already. A disillusioned sigh escaped Shane's lips.
Edward swiveled the stool around to face his old friend and hesitated. A wave of compassion settled over Edward as he observed his old friend's confidence dissipate into an aching brood. His right elbow still propped onto the creamy speckled granite counter-top, the doctor removed his glasses to clean them while waiting for a cue to continue. Shane's eyes bore through the frosted pane of glass into the darkness that began settling onto the landscape.
"So tell me, Laddie: have you given any thought about what you would do if …"
Pausing for effect.
"…When this job isn't what drives you?"
She tightened her grey plaid scarf closer around her face to filter out the bite of the breeze.
"Could you walk away from this?"
The wind blew harshly against their faces, chilling them to the bone. The next question remained unspoken between them, but its bone crushing effects whipped against the spy's reddened cheeks.
"Will you?" ~ Few weeks prior
"So now?" The spy's training took over; his voice lacked any emotion—almost clinical in tone.
Edward placed the spectacles back onto his face and clasped his hands together as he leaned forward professionally.
"I've added an iron supplement for the anemia and will run a more detailed analysis of Kimberly's blood chemistry, …" He continued quoting statistics, procedures, and various other pieces of information that at the moment…were whizzing past Shane's psyche at an intelligible rate. No matter; Peachy probably pried every last piece of intel from the man before Shane and the children had arrived home. He could catch up later. For now, his focus rested on suppressing the acute pain emanating from his heart and steer his emotions towards more productive means. How familiar the anxiety and how wretchedly tiresome the cycle had become for him. Shane began to regret all those heartfelt declarations spoken to her from before. Peachy's melodic voice interrupted the grave exchange.
"Eh, excuse me Sir, but there's an urgent call for you in the study."
Shane's eyes swerved briefly to the right past Edward's calm, steady demeanor and addressed Peachy. Dressed in her black woolen cardigan, white Victorian blouse, and trademark grey pleated woolen skirt; Peachy embodied the role of kindly housekeeper to a tee! Smiling pleasantly, she stood obediently in the doorway waiting for a reply.
"Take a message." He instructed curtly and placed his attention back towards Dr. Wellington.
"Ohhh, I'm afraid Sir…" Peachy's voice raised an octave indicating that whoever was on line took precedence over whatever was taking place in the kitchen. "That this simply won't keep any longer."
His partner's terse tone startled both the brooding spy and Dr. Wellington. Edward began to suspect this woman was way more involved in his old chum's affairs than either let on.
"Uh, Donovan," Promptly taking the cue, Edward rose and reached for Shane's hand to shake. " My assistant is finished."
A middle-aged woman appeared in the kitchen from the back stairs and nodded demurely. Patting Shane on the shoulder, Edward announced, "If anything changes with her condition as we discussed, call me immediately." The party moved down the hall and towards the imposing front double doors. "I'll promptly contact you in regards to Kim's blood work." He added professionally.
Shane nodded gratefully and once the doors were shut, turned his attention towards Peachy, who had positioned herself at the doorway into the family room. Her hands crossed pristinely over her torso, she began rattling off the details of the case before Shane could admonish her for the blunt interruption.
"Piras is on Line 3." She announced as the resigned spy sauntered towards her.
"I assumed as much." Shane muttered under a less than engaged breath as he rubbed the back of his aching neck. The spy had purposely neglected the fickle informant since bombing the "toy" manufacturing plant days earlier. The Italian government was in a state of turmoil already over their political upheaval and a well-placed source from Interpol, who had a penchant for blabbing to the papers, served a valuable role in propagating the elusive Liam Doyle's involvement in the terrorist act. Thus, the media took the opportunity to spin the event that certain opposition leaders were going to bed with the weapons dealer to thwart change within the country known for their open corruption. Depending on which politician Arlo's interests served, there was no doubt whomever he was working for was chomping at the bit to smooth things over between them. Together, the two spies briskly navigated through the family room and passed the dwindling remains of holiday merriment, to the back of the estate, and into the shadowy confines of Shane's study where the latest ISA technology had been artfully disguised behind some of the mahogany-encased bookshelves. Peachy pushed the heavy door open and escorted him in, strolling hurriedly over to the desk to retrieve a manila envelope. Whirling around to face him, "These were wired over to us this afternoon." She explained crisply as she slapped the file against his chest. Motioning to the blinking red light of the phone on his desk. "I wouldn't make the poor lad wait too long. He seems rather panicked." She noted with a sly smile.
The elderly woman glided towards the bureau to fix a drink as Shane hastily flipped through the images contained in the file. Exhaling deeply, he flung the envelope down on the desk as he depressed a button to answer the phone.
"Mr. Piras." He ordered over the line in an annoyed Irish accent. "To what do I ow' the honor." Shane seethed through the phone.
Peachy meandered towards the plaid, claw-footed chair that set across the desk and took a seat. Nursing the brandy, she studied her partner's face as he toyed with his prey.
"Arlo, I thought I made myself perfectly clear that yuh' business with me has been terminated, so why r'yuh' wasting my time?" Shane growled.
There was an abrupt pause as the intended threat seeped through the line. Peachy could hear the thick Italian accent wafting back, but reception made it impossible to ascertain what was being said from her distance. Given the mildly bored expression that Shane wore, Peachy concluded Arlo was pleading his case. She had observed him handle the infuriating footman for almost a year without breaking a sweat. Suddenly, Shane burst into gales of laughter.
"I don't need yuh' business." He boasted exuberantly and knowing the transmitted message would certainly piss Arlo's boss off... " I'm afraid my lad that yuh' boss has waded way over his wee little head." Shane explained with such ease that one would actually believe he grew up in the industrial streets of Belfast instead of the rolling picturesque hills outside of London. Arlo's hasty reply was cut short as Shane slammed the phone down startling even a prepared spy like Peachy. Shane cast a pleased glance in her direction.
"He'll call back." The experienced spy retorted with a satisfied gleam in his eye.
Peachy raised her glass to Shane in admiration. "Well played Laddie," before a subtle knock at the door interrupted the meeting.
"Master Shane," Simmons announced as Shane waved the kindly butler in. " The Misses' soup is ready."
Shane smiled serenely at the man who in many ways felt like an uncle to him more than a family servant. "Thank you Simmons. I'll take Kimberly's meal to her."
Peachy nodded sympathetically but remained in her seat as Shane left the study. Staring out the window, she cradled her glass to her lips and pondered what had just transpired.
Location: Master bedroom in Donovan Manor
"It's bath time, you two!" Shane bellowed as he entered the bedroom. Tray in hand, he concealed his concern by entertaining Kimberly with proper English etiquette. Posture straight and arms extended like a proper butler, he marched towards the four-poster bed as the children giggled in amusement at their father's antics. Peachy had downed the last remnants of her scotch before meeting up with Shane as he rounded the corner from the backstairs. She remained at the doorway.
"Ms. Peach will draw your baths." He instructed them sternly; his eyes narrowed but Shane's dimples revealed the smirk escaping his otherwise tightly pressed lips. Kimberly smiled faintly as Andrew and Jeannie gave their mother hugs and kisses before scurrying off the bed.
"Good-night, mumma!" Jeannie squealed.
"Feel better, mum." Andrew added affectionately; his big brown eyes betraying the worry in them before he meandered towards Peachy.
Kimberly's heart ached at the sight of Andrew's distress, so she lifted her chin confidently using every ounce of strength in her and smiled brightly.
"I will. I promise son." She assured Andrew so convincingly that even Shane believed her.
His shoulders relaxing, the little boy smiled back before the trio exited the room. Switching his attention back to Kimberly, Shane set the bed tray properly in front of Kimberly and with a flick of his wrist, extended the pristinely folded cloth napkin for her.
"At ease, Captn'." Kimberly commanded weakly as she titled her head to the left and peered up at him.
Gazing back at her, Shane smile knowingly at the way Kimberly insisted on keeping the topic away from her or the illness.
"I don't think Andrew was too enthralled with the ballet today." She noted astutely.
A low wheezing cough escaped her lips causing Kimberly's shoulders to shake briefly.
Shane's eyes narrowed studiously as he handed her the spoon. Answering,
"You're correct, but then I didn't expect he would be." He noted with a victorious smile.
"Though he did perk up when the acrobats made their appearance." Shane noted aloud and then swiftly moved towards a comfortable spot at the end of the bed where her feet created small mounds under the blankets. Kimberly's brow arched in a manner that begged for him to tell his version of the events. Reclining comfortably and propping his right elbow against the bunched up comforter, Shane's eyes rested on her compelling Kimberly to eat the soup Simmons prepared. She slowly slurped the soup knowing what he was after. Smiling faintly, she continued to sip some of the fresh chicken broth.
"It's good." Kimberly assured him in a whisper as he watched her intently before telling his version of the outing…refraining from giving up too many details of the day.
The boy had shifted and fiddled in his seat throughout the long performance while his sister's bright eyes glistened with joy as they watched the graceful dancers flit and twirl across the stage. His father only reprimanded him once; a swift but subtle admonishment with his eyes that instructed Andrew how a gentleman behaved at social functions regardless of their preference. Andrew stared ahead practicing a neutral expression so that his sister could freely express her excitement over the elegant costumes, the colorful décor, and graceful moves performed by the ballerinas.
The spy delighted in describing their daughter's awestruck expressions and amusing commentary that Jeannie whispered loudly into his ear intermittently throughout the performance. Absorbed in the recent memory, Shane's eyes fell to the side in a faraway fashion until he finished. Snapping his attention back towards Kimberly, who rested her arms on the bed tray as he spoke, Shane noted,
"I'm afraid we're funding ballet lessons in the coming New Year." He remarked with a wry smile.
Kimberly grinned right back and managed a soft laugh for a reply. But her eyes were quite heavy and she had abandoned her meal while Shane was talking. Using his right hand to prop himself up, Shane leaned back to observe Kimberly's features. She remained frightfully pale and her eyes appeared weary despite sleeping almost around the clock. The weight of his conversation with Edward earlier loomed over Shane triggering a look of undying affection to emanate across his face. Normally the penetrating stare induced a rosy hue to bloom around Kim's cheeks, but tonight the only sign of the effect he had on her, was Kimberly's fingers fumbling nervously with the silky sheet to her right side. Kimberly rested her eyes onto the half-eaten bowl of soup, but she couldn't manage another bite. She felt trapped. Kimberly couldn't fight whatever ailed her and him too.
A polite knock at the door interrupted the quiet standoff.
"Uh, Laddie. You're requested by their bedsides for evening prayers." Peachy acknowledged affectionately. Her steely eyes scanned the two of them quickly assessing the situation before averting them towards the hallway. What an obstinate duo they are! She mused dryly.
When Shane returned, Kimberly was just hanging up the phone to her left. The tray with all its contents had disappeared along with Peachy.
"Are they asleep" Kimberly asked weakly before attempting to clear her throat of the raspy sound emanating from her voice. Strolling towards the left side of the four-poster bed,
" Yes," Shane replied emphatically and wagging his finger playfully at her, " But your daughter is quite the little imp!"
"Myyyy daughter?" Kimberly quipped half-heartedly. She was thoroughly acquainted with Jeannie's many ways of stalling at bedtime. It was one of the reasons Kim had begun quoting poetry to the little girl when she was an infant. The natural rhythm often lulled her to sleep. "Because her mischievous nature certainly did not come from you, right?" She replied with a flirtatious wink that couldn't be constrained.
Smoothing out the blankets as he made room by her side, Shane surveyed Kim's demeanor. "Madame, surely you jest." He replied teasingly wanting to keep the mood light. The brightness in his eyes stirred emotions in Kim that she couldn't quite handle at the moment. Her body ravaged by fever and sickness, Kim craved his comfort but her stubborn willfulness fought vehemently against such an admission. "So what's the secret poem that Andrew says is the magic cure to get her to settle down?" Shane questioned light-heartedly unaware of how much his presence pricked at her heart.
"Oh," Kim replied softly and looked down at her hands resting on the folded blanket before her—clearly not wanting to divulge much in regards to the matter. Even with her foggy mindset, Kimberly could quote the little passage verbatim, as it was what occurred to her to recite to Jeannie the night after learning the truth about the little girl's father.
What's the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Love, when, so, you're loved again.
What's the best thing in the world? —Something out of it, I think.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning
From that point on, it seemed fitting given the child's namesake and the meaning of what her existence meant when Kimberly's mind allowed herself to drift back to that moment of conception. But it had been a long time since she allowed herself to touch that memory in any meaningful way. Though on this night, Kim's emotions began to get the best of her, so she lifted her eyes to his…
"Just something to help her go to sleep." She answered cryptically and before she could harness the seductive power of the memory and the history of the room they presently resided, "It's a secret." She whispered mysteriously not able to wrestle free from his penetrating gaze.
"Mmmm," Shane responded catching a glimpse of her love reflecting from Kim's translucent aqua-colored eyes. What he would give to unlock many of the lady's secrets once again! Like a magnet, his right hand drew towards her left cheek to caress it as Kim's head fell slightly back from the weight of his affection. But the sudden movement broke the spell as Kim turned her head away just in time. Shane's unrequited hand fell on the avalanche of covers instead.
"It's not right." She managed to choke out before attempting to suppress another ill-timed cough.
The snapping of embers breaking free from the fire's encasement punctuated the crushing defeat reverberating throughout the room. Shane shifted his body away from Kimberly to face her from the safety of the foot of the bed.
"How's Philip?" He asked nonchalantly after a few painful minutes of silence.
"That wasn't Philip. I was talking to Peter." Kimberly replied carefully and with a suspicious glint in her eye.
"Oh?" Shane replied not able to contain his surprise, which induced a curious expression from Kimberly. Recovering quickly, "Well, how is the ole' buggar, anyway?" He inquired with a mischievous smile. "Using you to steal my strategy for our ongoing chess match?"
Kimberly pulled the creamy comforter closer to her and leaned back into the pillows wearily. Smiling faintly, "I know better than to get between the two of you regarding any competition that you've cooked up." She raised her heavy eyes and to meet his. Their genuine warmth and interest briefly quelled the budding tension. " Peter's good and bids you adieu,"
Shane nodded affirmatively with a cheerful smile as Kimberly continued, "We were just talking business."
Shane's brow arched accusingly. Before he could reprimand her for "not resting," Kimberly raised her hand in protest, "It couldn't wait." She insisted with a non-verbal plea emanating from her fragile azure eyes. The expression on Shane's face softened to that admiring and sympathetic stare he often embodied when the subject surfaced.
"If there's anything you need, I'll have Peachy procure the funds immedia…"
"No, no, nothing like that." Kimberly interrupted visibly affected by Shane's unwavering willingness to support her cause…their cause in way, though he wouldn't have the foggiest idea about that yet. "Just a project I am working on." She attempted to explain matter-of-factly.
"Really?" Shane responded enthusiastically. "Pray tell, dear woman. Inquiring minds want to know." His exposed dimple was contagious, but Kimberly refused to elaborate any further. The hint of shame that streaked across her face clued the observant spy into where this undisclosed project stemmed from but he couldn't quite understand Kim's hesitation in discussing it with him. "Ah, might this have to do with retrieving answers for the young lady you wanted to help?" He questioned compassionately.
Kimberly's eyes widened, which affirmed Shane's suspicion. He leaned closer to her and taking her hand, Shane stroked it encouragingly. "Well then, I'm sure it will be a success. Just let me know if I…"
"I will." She assured him softly as her eyes fluttered downward and rested on how his comforting hand cupped hers.
Silence enveloped the room allowing Kim to rest in Shane's quiet strength as his mind searched for the answers that Kimberly sought for the patient in question. It perplexed the spy that she didn't hold them, for Kimberly's gift in counseling had been her ability to not only draw her patients out, but to address their needs afterwards during their therapy. The fire crackled melodically within the fireplace as Shane patiently gazed at her waiting for a cue.
Almost without warning, a low steady cough rippled through Kim's beleaguered body thrusting her forward and into Shane's arms.
"Kim?" Shane's voice rang alarmingly. Swiftly, he rose into standing position and moved to her right side propping his left knee on the bed. Leaning her into his body, Shane steadied Kimberly as the wretched cough overtook her. Kimberly clung onto his right shoulder burying her head into his chest as he patted her back soothingly with his left hand. His head resting on top of hers, Shane held her for support. It took several long seconds for the fit to pass.
"I'm sorry." She managed hoarsely as she tried to catch her breath. "I don't know what just happened."
"Shhh, it's ok." He assured her.
For Kimberly, things were far from ok. She could freely accept his camaraderie, his compassion… but under the circumstances, not this…not his love. It could be deadly. Shane inhaled deeply caressing Kim's left cheek as his fingers brushed strands of her tangled wavy hair away from her face. Catching herself before she melted into his inviting hands,
"As for Philip," Kimberly abruptly interjected seeking balance amidst their ever- escalating impropriety.
"Excuse, me?" Shane released her from his embrace as Kimberly squirmed away from him. Vainly, she looked for a distraction from what was taking place.
"I'm cold." She muttered feebly and leaning to the other side of the bed busily reached for her robe. Shane stumbled back briefly before regaining his composure. Once she had wrapped the velvet shroud around her, under the comforter and secured the sash, Kimberly felt confident to face him once more.
"Philip. You assumed that I was talking to…"
"Really Kimberly, it's none of my business." Shane offered crisply folding his arms across his chest protectively.
"Well, I did speak with him today right before he was ready to leave from Berlin." Miffed, Kimberly jerked her head to the side—her tussled hair following behind. "He is anxious to get here!" The outburst sounded painfully contrived even to her, so Kimberly attempted to feign gazing out the window but the heavy floral draperies were closed blocking the view. Besides, there was nothing to see at this late hour. But she had no intentions of looking him directly in the eye.
"Of course he is." Shane offered diplomatically.
"Well, he is." Kimberly insisted emphatically, which was the truth given Philip's annoyance directed towards his handler, "But I told him not to bother because I'll be returning to LA in a few days anyway." She replied defensively. Perhaps it was the persistent low-grade fever talking, but her petulance grated on Shane's very last nerves!
"And he believed you?" He scoffed incredulously.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She flung her head in his direction desperately trying to conceal the tears that were forming with righteous indignation instead. Despite her pale features, the fire that had ignited in Kim's eyes reminded Shane of those early days when she clawed at every one of his innocent inquiries—a desperate attempt to keep him at bay. Kimberly's tone suggested that she was baiting him.
Shane's even expression never wavered.
Despite her infuriating behavior, he had no intention of revealing any information from his conversation with Edward though it was clear to Shane that Kimberly already knew that her health was not stable at the moment. Why else would she place sudden barriers between them like this impromptu dedication to a wayward fiancé?
"Just that you have a nasty tendency to underplay the severity of a situation when it involves your well-being…" He remarked tersely. " I'd have thought he would have learned as much after your run-in with Lombard's car last year."
Kimberly narrowed her brow scrutinizing the hidden meaning behind the astute accusation. "Because you're much more in tuned to what I need." Her tone was more scathing and peppered with a sharp reminder of his past abandonment.
Shane stopped abruptly and gritted his teeth to prevent saying something that he'd regret later. Even if it were true, there were too many landmines created with that pronouncement to step on for him to respond. Their relationship was already riddled with too many false indictments floating around thwarting his efforts as it stood.
"Besides, I would think you'd prefer him not to come here given the way you two left things at Thanksgiving..." Kimberly added in a calculating tone.
"Oh, that." Shane interrupted flatly. Reclaiming a degree of neutrality, the spy turned his back to her and retreated towards the fireplace. The direction of the inquisition swerved dangerously close to a revelation regarding the producer that Shane wasn't willing to reveal to Kim …especially since he did not possess sufficient proof yet. Propping his arm against the mantle, he stared towards the door that exited the room. "That was merely a misunderstanding, you see…"
"That's what Philip said." Kimberly interrupted shrewdly as her eyes bore into him.
Shane drummed his fingers lightly against the wooden surface and allowed the stony silence to make her uncomfortable. Shane had gone as far with her as he was willing to go under the circumstances.
"Well then, there's no problem." He offered slyly flashing her an arrogant smile across his left shoulder. Done playing this little charade, he added: "The hour is late Kimberly, I suggest you get some sleep." He advised matter-of-factly.
There was a sense of finality to Shane's suggestion that went beyond a cordial ending to the night's tumultuous discourse. He abandoned his perch by the fireplace and headed towards the door without giving her another look. Defiantly she threw a pillow at the door after it had closed to prevent her tears from overtaking her. Sinking back into the covers, Kimberly tossed and turned as an intermittent cough gradually intensified deep into the night. Finally, she settled into a fitful, listless sleep.
Several hours later, Shane was shaken awake by a frantic Peachy, who had burst through his bedroom door.
"Up, up, up!" She motioned roughly tugging at his gray pajama shirt. Shane squinted his eyes briefly as Peachy flipped on the switch to the lamp beside his bed. "I'm afraid it's the Lassie! We have to get her to the hospital, now!"