CHAPTER 43

'I've told you already,' Victor said sullenly. 'I don't know where Vivian is and I have nothing to do with Carly's disappearance.'

'What was it you wanted to tell her that you couldn't tell me?' Bo demanded.

'Just to warn her to be on her guard. Vivian seemed to be excited about something that involved Carly, but she took off before I could find out what it was.' He smiled sardonically at their baffled faces. 'Nice try at attempting to paint me the villain again, Bo. I know what you've all been thinking of me ... sticking up for Vivian all this while. I was trying to find out what she was up to, get some information, even if I had to go to the extremes by ignoring Olivia.'

Roman and Steve made rude, derisive noises, while the cynical expression on Bo's face deepened. 'You honestly expect us to believe that?'

'You can try to convince us all you want,' Roman said coldly, 'but your so called undercover work yielded nothing. Carly's locked in a casket somewhere and we have no idea how long she's going to last in there.'

'If Carly's that precious to Bo, he would've done a better job at protecting her instead of letting her wander about alone...'

'Don't you start that now!' Steve jumped in the fray, realising Bo was about to explode. 'Passing blame isn't going to get Carly back. But if you do know where Vivian is, tell us! Carly's life's hanging on the balance here!'

'I can't help you.' Victor's tone was flat. 'Somehow or other Vivian must have suspected I was on to her and made a run for it. I don't know where she is, or where she's hidden Carly. That's the truth.'

'He's lying.' Max said after Henderson closed the door behind them.

'Of course he's lying,' Roman growled, 'he's hiding something. I don't buy his so-called suspicions; Vivian must have told him something- which made him go warn Carly.'

'Obviously,' Steve added, 'he doesn't want to implicate himself. What do you reckon, Bo?'

'Your guess is the same as mine...' Bo ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, 'but we won't know for sure until we find Vivian, hopefully in time to get Carly out of there.' Biting his lip he turned away abruptly; trying not to imagine Carly screaming hopelessly beneath the ground. Suppose the oxygen had run out by the time they do find her? How will he be able to face Olivia? How will he continue without Carly?

'It's for you,' Carly said, an uncharacteristically shy look on her face. 'Merry Christmas.'

'It is?' he asked, taken aback and touched in spite of himself. Since their return from Alamainia, he'd promised to distance himself further away from Carly Manning or, in actual fact, Lady Katarina Von Leuschner. But he kept breaking his own rules; she was so beautiful... inside and out, constantly drawing him to her like a magnet. Right now she looked every inch the Countess in a Tudor-style long sleeved, full skirted dress with an embroidered squared neckline and cuffs, real diamonds glittering at her neck and ears, her hair pulled away from her face. Only sheer iron will kept him from drawing her into his arms.

'You can open it here if you want.'

'Sure, of course.'

Opening the gift-wrapped box, he brought out a shiny, rather heavy brass bell. Of the things he could have guessed, this would have been way below his list.

'It's for the boat.'

'I figured,' he smiled, turning it over in his hands, noticing it was engraved.

'I saw that you didn't have one and you should. In the old days, ships had carved figure heads at the front...'

'Uh huh?' he said, settling back, with great interest.

'Well they were out there for luck and nowadays a brass bell does the same thing.' She explained.

'Oh.' Holding it up, he read the engraving: "To calm waters and smooth sailing."' He looked back at her, impressed by her knowledge and very pleased with the unique gift. 'How come you know so much about sailing lore?'

'There are lot of things I know,' she smiled, then added soberly, 'and there are lots of things you don't know about me.'

'Still?'

She nodded. 'Still.' Their eyes locked for a few seconds. Then briskly, she continued, 'anyway I found the bell for the bow of the ship as they say... so may I do the christening?'

He was a bit confused before realising what she meant. 'Oh okay.'

He held out the bell towards her and she took hold of its clapper. 'Eight bells at the end of the watch, right? "Eight bells and all is well."'

'That's right.'

'Well, that's what I wish for you,' she said softly, eyes fixed on him. 'For this year and all the years to come. Calm waters... smooth sailing and all is well.'

I'll find you soon, Carly... Bo vowed, and Vivian will be out of our lives forever. That woman will pay, I swear to God, one way or the other. After that, all's going to be well.

He turned back to the others, the implacable mask back on his face. 'Let's go hunting.'

Meanwhile Victor poured himself a brandy, his third. Years ago, when Carly had confronted him about switching Bo's letter to her with a forged one, he'd told her the cold hard truth; he was not the type of man who thought or cared about the consequences of his actions.

Our marriage is over had been the cold answer to his excuse and Carly had packed her bags and moved out of the mansion forever. He'd been forced to live with the consequence of his deceit from then on, watching Carly and Bo live their love after his attempts at separating them. Such a thing had never happened to him and it had burned him up more than Carly's angry statement that he'd never loved her rather only loved having her.

Now it was only a matter of time before he faced the outcome of what he'd done, believing Vivian's lie about Carly and Olivia. Forget Bo, no one in the family would ever speak to him again or have anything to do with him; he would have zero access to Olivia, Ciara and Claire, he might even end up jail for being an accessory to attempted murder.

The only way out of it was get to Vivian before Bo did and silence her for good. But Victor shed that idea immediately, as ruthless as he was in all his activities, he'd buried that sword years ago, after Isabella's death. With any luck, he thought, Bo might just end up doing the job for him by carrying out his threat.

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Carly shifted to a more comfortable position, wondering if she could tear off the silk padding on the lid and try breaking the wood. But remembering she would then be suffocated by several tons of earth made her drop the idea. All she could was wait... and pray.

She thought of Bo again, and Olivia... her hot tempered, affectionate little girl. If only she knew her condition, if an antidote has finally been found.

Even if she made it out of here alive, life wouldn't be worth living if Olivia died. Not just for her but Bo too, he couldn't live through burying another child... not after poor Zach. The few occasions he spoke of his son, she saw the pain in his eyes, the scars still evident. Nicky had been in his twenties but the pain of losing a child could never go away; because a parent would always be a parent- not like a wife becoming a widow or a husband becoming a widower.

Poor Bo and Hope, she thought, imagining their agonising pain at the time, along with Shawn Douglas'. After being an only child for so long, it must have devastated him so much as well. But then they got blessed with Ciara; the beautiful, sweet little girl who followed Olivia around like a shadow. In many ways, she reminded her of Shawn Douglas; she was such an easy child to love. It had gladdened her heart seeing Bo's daughters so happy in each other's company.

Carly suddenly stopped herself short. I'm thinking in past tense, she realised. I mustn't do that again. And I have to keep my spirits up, I can't freak out in here. I mustn't...

She shut her eyes, breathing in the deep, slow yoga way as she forced herself to put her mind off her present surroundings and back to another memory...

'Oh, she's a tiny little sweetheart!' Barbara crooned after the doctor placed the crying infant in Carly's arms, wrapped in a pink shawl.

The child quietened, staring up at her unblinkingly out of tiny, bright green eyes. My eyes... she thought, entranced with the child, stroking the fluff of hair covering her head. My beautiful little girl. And Lawrence isn't even here to see her; he will be so thrilled with this new addition to the family.

Maybe Lawrence would be a lot less uptight now; he'd been rather out of sorts all through her pregnancy, almost like he was angry about it. It had been the reason for her illness; he kept saying.

'This must bring back memories of Nicky's birth, right Ma'am?' Barbara remarked, stroking the baby's cheek.

She looked up, wondering whether or not to tell Barbara she hardly remembered Nicky's birth. Or that while she loved her son dearly, he was almost like a stranger; like she hadn't known him all her life. She didn't understand a lot of things; why Lawrence was solicitous yet had moments of coldness. What was he hiding from her?

The baby made a noise and she immediately put her to breast, smiling as she closed her little eyes in concentration. This child was going to have the best of her and everything she wanted.

'Uh, yes... It does,' she lied, drawing her new born daughter closer, stroking her hair. 'I want to call her Olivia.'

'That's a beautiful name.' The older woman nodded approvingly, 'it suits her so well. Olivia Marie?'

She frowned, reluctant to give her daughter her own middle name she didn't like very much.

'No, I won't call her that; it's stupid tagging a piece of a person on a new baby. I want to give her a name that's hers alone. Her name is going to be Olivia Gwyneth. Olivia Gwyneth Alamain.'

She stroked the baby's little head again, love for her daughter almost leaving her breathless. My baby, how I love you so!

Please be okay kitten, Carly prayed, clasped hands shaking. Please, please be okay! Bo, help me... please help me!

Blind terror rose up within her body again and she began to sob out loud, pushing against the casket's lid hopelessly. Memories just weren't strong enough at fighting claustrophobia; she was losing her mind trapped in here. Despite the supplied oxygen, she suddenly had trouble breathing. Gasping, she put her hands on her aching head, trying to quell the sick feeling of dizziness. Keep your head Carly... keep your head!

But it was no good, her breathing felt worse, her whole body shook uncontrollably and beads of sweat appeared all over her face. She screamed loud and hard, pounding her fists against the lid. 'Get me out... Get me out! Oh, God... I don't want to die in here! Bo, where are you... come quick, please!' she wept pitifully.

To crown it all, the scratchy noise returned, followed by Vivian's manic, mocking laughter.

'Finally cracked, have we? Thought you could exercise enough stolidity until your dashing knight Bo Brady came for you. You've always expecting someone to rescue you; the proverbial damsel in distress. I've always thought you hated people fighting your battles for you.'

Carly's chest heaved up and down, sobbing.

'Not this time, you miserable wench!' Vivian laughed gleefully, delighted at the sound of Carly's despair. 'And by the way, what you're doing right now... music to my ears.'

Carly couldn't take it anymore. 'God damn you and your soul to hell, Vivian Alamain!' she shouted. 'I hope Bo kills you! And he will, make no mistake! He'll hunt you down and make you die a thousand deaths- you'll be serving your precious Lawrence's punishment as well as your own! So do your worse, BITCH!'

Ominous silence and the sound of the radio being turned off.

So much for that, Carly thought, suddenly feeling better. She prayed her panic attack wouldn't resurface any time soon. Wiping tears with the back of her hands, she hugged herself, wishing she had a flashlight.

'You're going to be alright.'

Carly's head darted sharply at the new voice in the darkness. It didn't sound like it came from the radio but right inside the casket. Or was it her imagination?

'I've finally lost my mind,' she whispered. 'Now I'm hearing voices in my head.'

'No you're not, Carly.' The voice came up again. 'It's completely real.'

Carly screamed as a beam of light shone on her face, lightening up the casket's interior. Shielding her eyes, she called out, terrified. 'Who's that? What do you want?'

'Nothing except to give you some comfort.' A figure materialised, hovering just above her; a woman dressed in white. Carly rubbed her eyes hard to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. The woman had curly hair framing a sweet, spiritual face, her smile brilliant. 'You have no idea how wonderful it feels to see you again, old friend.'

Carly shook her head in disbelief, gasping, 'Isabella...?'

::::::::::

Olivia sent everyone away, pleading sleepiness but in actual fact wanted to be alone to think. She truly trusted her father but like he said, the role of protector was difficult to just cast aside like that; not after several years of living under Lawrence and having no one else to look out for her and her Mum but themselves. In a way she felt resentful about it, like she was being shoved aside. But the feeling soon died down, her father loved them both so much, still felt so bad for not being the one who saved them from Lawrence... hated the idea that his daughter had been forced to take a life, even though it was justified. When Shawn Douglas was born, he told her once, he'd vowed he or any other child he had would never go through any drama in their lives. But fate had decided otherwise; all four of them had experienced such, even Zach, who'd been in the middle of the tug of love between Hope and Lexie before he'd been killed at age 5. And somehow Bo felt he was to blame for his children's turbulent lives, especially hers. Saving Carly now from Vivian's clutches was obviously his way of attaining some redemption.

I hope he finds her and finally sheds away that guilt, she thought. Not that he even has a reason to feel any guilt. The trouble with him is he cares too much; torn between being a rebel, a policeman and a father.

Suddenly having the need to get some exercise, she pulled back the blankets, pressing the button above her bed. Within seconds, a young nurse entered her room. 'You need anything, Miss Brady?' She asked solicitously.

'Yes, a need to get out of this bed and walk about.'

The young woman looked doubtful. ' I don't know about that... you just got out of a coma, you're sure you're up to this?'

'Right now,' Olivia said impatiently, 'I feel like the world's biggest Nancy just lying around here, I need the exercise. Now, will you please do something about this?' indicating the IV on her hand.

The IV was unhooked, capped off and neatly taped on her hand. Rummaging in the closet, the nurse brought out a robe, holding it out as Olivia gingerly stood up and slipped it on. Her arms and legs felt like lead.

'Are you sure about this?' the nurse said anxiously. 'Why don't I get a wheelchair...'

'No wheelchair.' Olivia said firmly, although she could barely stand, her head swimming with dizziness. 'I don't need any help.'

'Sorry, but that's not your call.' The nurse firmly slid her arm around Olivia's thin waist. 'It's my job to help you. No arguments.'

Leaning on her helper reluctantly, Olivia took cautious steps out of the room for the first time since she'd been brought in. She shuffled rather than walk but it beat lying on her back for a week.

'Miss Brady,' a uniformed officer hurried forward, 'nice to see you up.'

'Who are you?'

'I'm Newton, Sergeant Ron Newton. Commissioner Brady assigned me to guard you.'

'Oh, thanks.' Nodding at him, Olivia made her way down the hall, the nurse holding on to her firmly; doctors and other nurses milling around. Olivia's face was sweaty with the effort but she felt a little less dizzy.

A thought suddenly struck her. 'Is Dr. Horton still around?' she asked.

The nurse, who'd introduced herself as Susan replied, 'He's about somewhere attending to a patient. You want me to get him for you?'

'Not if he's busy.' Olivia said hastily. She wanted to apologise for snapping at him earlier, to tell him it had nothing to do with their previous encounter. She still felt angry with him for what he said, still felt a huge resentment towards his family for their attitude towards her mother. On the other hand, the feelings that he invoked in her were still there, hard as she tried pushing them aside.

They will go away eventually, she reassured herself. A relationship with a Horton is impossible... they'll never stop hating Ma and I'll be damned before I give those people more ammunition.

Her mind shifted to her mother, praying that she'll be found soon. If Vivian has done anything to her she'll...

'Look who's finally up!' Lexie Carver appeared, beaming. 'How are you feeling, honey?'

Hypocritical bitch, Olivia thought as she nodded coolly at her instead of doing what she longed to do, give her a dirty look. Another one of her mother's critics, her and her pompous husband.

Lexie didn't seem to notice anything. She went on, 'I was actually on my way with someone who's been so worried about you.'

Oh, God no... Olivia moaned inwardly at the man who appeared at Lexie's elbow.

'You already know my brother, don't you Olivia?'

Brother? Olivia's eyes darted from her to EJ. They are actually related?

EJ beamed brightly at her, a bouquet of long stemmed roses and heather in his hands. 'So wonderful to see you, Olivia.' He held the flowers up. 'Straight out of the greenhouse especially for you.'

'How... generous.' Olivia managed to say.

'Susan, put these in water, will you and take them to Miss Brady's room.' Lexie said, authoritatively.

'Yes, Dr. Carver.'

'Here, I'll take her,' EJ grabbed hold of Olivia before she could protest, strong arms wrapped round her waist. Susan hurried off with the flowers.

'Actually, I was just going back to my room...'

'Nonsense, moving around a bit will do you some good. But if you feel any form of dizziness, EJ here will let me know, okay?' She gave EJ a warning look before leaving them. Bo and Carly would definitely skin her alive for this but EJ had pleaded so hard that she'd given way and said she'll get him inside Olivia's room . But she was still going to have a long talk with him, before something else happened.

' I can walk on my own,' Olivia lied, wanting to get away from him but her whole body throbbed with weariness, her arms still felt stiff.

'I don't think you can just yet. Here, sit down a bit.'

She sank gratefully on the chair he lowered her on, pulling her robe closer to herself as she scanned him out of dark smudged eyes. She looked wan and thinner than before but to EJ, she never looked more beautiful.

He sat next to her. 'I'm so glad to see you up, I've been so worried about you.'

'That's kind of you,' was the cool answer.

'Not at all,' he said softly, 'you already know how I feel...'

'I thought we weren't going to have this conversation again, no... Don't interrupt me.' Olivia raised her voice, or rather tried to raise it, her voice was still hoarse. 'EJ, I've said it once and I'll say it again, nothing can come out this. You and me... impossible. Give it a rest once and for all.'

'How can I possibly give it a rest when you wouldn't even give me a chance?' EJ demanded. 'This is a classic case of giving a dog a bad name before hanging him... I'm not the same man everyone's been telling you about. My feelings are real, Olivia, they are. I wouldn't be here if they weren't.'

Olivia rubbed her head, feeling dizzy again.

'EJ,' she said wearily. 'I have a lot on my mind right now. I'd really prefer it if you would just...'

'GET DOWN!' he shouted suddenly, grabbing her and driving both of them on the linoleum floor amidst the roar of gunfire.