Lessons to Learn
Chapter 5
A/N: Thank you for the lovely response to the last chapter. Your support really helps me to keep up the writing for this story! Special thanks to Cobert Addict for the great memes on tumblr about the last part of the latest chapter! It's lovely to see you guys feeling the story as much as I (and as Cora).
The following chapter gets a bit more angsty; I hope you enjoy it nevertheless.
The sound of a car's engine woke her. Cora stretched out in the tangled sheets and yawned. Then she noticed the emptiness beside her and rubbed her eyes before opening them. Robert wasn't there. The sound of the car grew more present and she left the bed to approach the windows. She tucked the dressing gown around her tightly while padding to the large window. Cora pulled the curtain slightly to the side and saw Robert's familiar black car leaving the property. Her brow furrowed. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and the curtain fell shut behind her. Where was he going? She had thought she'd awake either to his sleepy face or the smell of coffee and breakfast. However, the bed was cold and she was alone. Maybe he had left a note downstairs, she thought, and padded down the stairs. Her feet grew cold instantly and she regretted leaving her slippers upstairs. All rooms were dark and the kitchen was deserted. There was no message, no breakfast, only an abandoned mug of coffee. Cora huffed a sigh and sank on one of the bar stools. She shivered lightly. Her hands rubbed over her upper arms and she put her elbows on the kitchen counter.
Last night she had felt optimistic. She had thought Rosamund was right and they had better chances now to steer through demanding times. Robert's unexpected appearances, both at Rosamund's and in the bathroom, had given her hope that he wouldn't disappear in seclusion during his new project at work. But now he was away unannounced before the project had even started. She was sure he was at work sorting things out in advance to be adequately prepared.
Cora didn't know if she was happy that intimacy seemed to work nevertheless. What was that? They could have the most blissful sex but didn't manage to communicate simple things as working hours properly. She shook her head and propped her chin on her hands. Why couldn't it all be easier? Married life, family life; it all seemed so idyllic but was able to drain away one's energy with the simplest problems.
Cora tried to settle her mind on the delightful parts of yesterday while taking the half-empty mug of coffee absentmindedly and drinking the lukewarm beverage. She remembered Robert's darkened eyes wandering across her unguarded body. She remembered his smooth, freshly shaven cheeks under her fingertips. She remembered his hands on her wet skin pressing gently into her bum. A sigh escaped her mouth. It really had been particularly delightful last night. But she also felt the effects in her bones and muscles. She was as sore as she hadn't been in a while. She chalked it up to intensity and unusual position; it couldn't be all due to her age. But still, she had been able to have sex in the shower without regrets in the past. She sighed again.
She shook her head and pressed her eyes close to free her head of all that entrapped thoughts. Cora knew she had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, so every musing lead nowhere in the moment. She stood up from the bar stool, her bare feet causing a patting noise on the tiles. She spilled the last drops of the coffee into the sink. The stale drink didn't help her bugged mood. Her stomach growled and she huffed. She really had imagined this morning differently. She tried to avoid the word pancakes in her thoughts. What a great start to the weekend!
Cora turned to the dishwasher and sorted the clean dishes to avert her attention from the irksome thoughts. Her mind wandered to more neutral subjects and she started planning the lessons for the next week. She could let the students prepare some presentations in her art courses. She wouldn't have to teach the topics herself and maybe it would bring a little bit more variety into school routine. She shrugged her shoulders, not really convinced of it herself yet. The plates chinked when she put them into the shelf. It was the only sound in the kitchen and it made her tummy rumbles reappear.
"Damn…" a mutter came from the corridor. Cora turned around to see which of her daughters was up early in the morning, apparently with a mood as moderate as hers. The dark shock of hair of her eldest daughter appeared in the doorway. Mary's eyes were glued to her phone screen. She groaned in annoyance.
"Morning," Cora greeted. Mary's head shot up instantly, her eyes wide.
"Mama! Don't scare me like that!" Mary called, and pressed her hand to her chest. With a huff she sank on the bar stool her mother had occupied minutes earlier.
"I'm sorry, darling. Why are you up already?"
"Well, it doesn't matter. I only wish I had stayed in bed," Mary muttered. She blew a strand of dark brown hair out of her face. Her bob was slightly mussed and she still looked sleepy.
"You know you can talk to me if there is something worrying you," Cora said earnestly with an intensive look directed at her daughter.
"I know, Mama."
Cora resumed her work at hand when Mary turned towards her phone again. The two went silent for a while, each focused on their own things. Mary put down her phone after a few minutes and watched her mother scurrying around the kitchen.
"I think we both have earned a special breakfast," Mary stated after a moment. Cora turned to her daughter with slight surprise. She noticed how Mary scrutinised her and she instinctively smoothed down her hair and dressing gown. She felt the countless knots in her tresses and groaned lowly.
"Really, Mama. I have an idea for us two," Mary insisted, and rose from her seat to approach the fridge. She opened the freezer and fetched a large box of ice cream. She held it up triumphantly.
"Ice cream? For breakfast?" Cora questioned. She put her hands on her hips in a weak attempt to adopt an authoritarian attitude.
"Listen, Mama. I think you just have to trust me on this. Sometimes you have to take drastic measures." Mary put the ice cream and two large spoons on the kitchen counter and opened the fridge. Her eyes scanned the bottles of drinks and Cora noticed how they lingered on the strong ones.
"No! No Rosamund-like measures. We are not that desperate this early in the morning," Cora exclaimed.
"Alright, alright," Mary relented and threw the fridge door close. They both took a seat at the kitchen counter and Mary opened the box of ice cream. She was the first one to take a large spoon of the chocolate chip ice cream. Cora only hesitated a few seconds before she followed suit.
"And you don't want to talk about it?" Cora asked cautiously after a moment in mutual silence.
"No," was Mary's brisk answer. Cora sighed; she hadn't expected any different. The screen of Mary's phone lit up. She took it immediately and Cora observed how Mary's eyes scanned the received message. She looked up from her phone and her eyes searched her mother's face with caution and weighing. Cora knew this expression and hoped dearly to appear trustworthy enough to her daughter. She knew Mary was thinking about sharing something with her, and Cora wanted so much to share her daughter's obvious burden.
"Mama?" Mary's eyes sought her mother's ones tentatively. "What would you do if you had unknowingly done something bad and only found out afterwards?"
Robert was done with work for today. He rotated his shoulders in an attempt to get rid of the tensing posture he had adopted sitting at his desk. He reached his hands to his lower back and pressed his thumbs into the muscles at his spine. He was ready to go home now. So, he grabbed his things, turned off computer and lights and left his office. Robert was satisfied with today's achievements. He would be able to start next week's tasks with a calm mind and a well-prepared project portfolio.
He was in front of their house in a flash without being able to recall ever starting the car, navigating it home and parking it in the driveway. He merely shrugged his shoulders as he opened the door. He was happy about the easy-going manner things seemed to have in themselves in the last days.
"I'm home!" he called into the hall and put his keys onto the key hooks. There was a common silence in the house and he breathed in the welcome peace. He was putting his attire onto a coat hanger when he heard light steps on the parquet flooring. As he turned around, he caught sight of his wife leaning in the doorway of the living room. He couldn't make out if her expression was tired or just relaxed. Her temple was pressed against the wooden doorway and her arms held her cardigan tightly around her chest.
"You're back," she stated softly. "Did you get anything done?" she asked and a light and encouraging smile appeared on her face.
"Yes, it really was a successful day," he reported with a hint of pride.
"Oh, I'm glad!" she gushed and he could see the sincerity in her blue eyes. She nodded her head to the interior of the living room and they went inside and lowered themselves onto their favourite settee. Robert felt Cora's eyes on him and he turned his face to her. Her smile added to his inner peace. She patted her lap and he gladly accepted the invitation and shifted on the settee into a lying position. He rested his head on her lap, clasped his hands on his chest and closed his eyes. He felt Cora leaning forward and she grabbed some papers from the coffee table in front of her. The rustling of the papers that weren't his made him sleepy. One of Cora's hand wandered into his hair and he hummed when she started massaging his scalp.
"Mmh…" She tucked lightly on his curls and her nails scraped his scalp. "Thank you," Robert breathed. Her hands did heavenly work; they had years of practice. But actually, she had possessed this intoxicating skill right from the beginning. Robert now felt the muscles in his back loosening, even if her hands only touched his head. Cora turned a page and seemed absorbed in her reading. They were no sounds emitted from her. Robert thought how easy life was at the moment. There was indeed the workload at the bank, but at home was a great peace he savoured. Their girls were good lambs; they got along well with each other at the moment and brought no problems home. Robert elicited a sigh of relief.
"We are lucky with our girls, aren't we?" he spoke softly, and Cora's hand ceased their work momentarily.
"Of course, we are. Why do you say so?"
"Well, other parents do nothing but putting their children in their places. Ours behave greatly and they don't worry us." His eyes stayed close as he waited for her response. Before she said something her hand resumed their movement in his curls.
"You're probably right," Cora answered eventually. And Robert thought, he was lucky that not only his girls were angels but that Cora was all well. He recalled the last time when his mind wasn't as light as now. It had been yesterday shortly before their terrific fun. It had only been a short moment, but he had been reminded of the time of uncertainty ten years prior. Now he was glad that he had made sure beforehand that everything was safe, for inner peace could settle inside him now. For a short moment, his thoughts went back ten years. But he was beware to not go down that road, because he knew how vivid the images were every time he did so.
Robert entered the bathroom whistling this morning. He was still in his sleeping shirt. Cora had already gotten up and was caring for the girls. He could hear their high and excited voices through multiple doors. It was Tuesday and Cora had early lessons. Tuesdays she got up half an hour earlier and woke the girls, dressed them and made them breakfast. While the girls ate, she made them lunchboxes and downed her first cup of coffee. Robert relieved her after he had freshened up. He took the girls to school on Tuesdays. Cora was always out of the house as soon as he sat down at the dining table.
That morning he had had a hard time getting out of bed. The warmth had enveloped him so completely that it had been difficult to leave the comfort of his dreams and enter reality. Distantly, he had sensed Cora hopping out of bed at the first ring of her alarm. When he had turned over shortly after, his eyes had fallen on the clock on his bedside table and he too had jumped out of bed. He couldn't leave Cora hanging. On his way to the bathroom, he had remembered the subject of his dreams. It was a laughing Cora who was running from him and grinned at him over her shoulder. She was stark naked in this delightful dream and she waited for him to catch her. He knew why he had had this particular dream, for it was in way a remembrance from the night, before they had fallen asleep. He had tickled her and she had laughed so hard that he was afraid the girls would wake up. She'd tried to escape his hands but actually wanted nothing more than feel them on her skin. And eventually he had granted her this favour most gladly.
This memory elicited an elated whistle from him as he walked into the bathroom. He ran his hand through his tousled hair when he glanced at himself in the mirror. He tried to smoothen it, but it was particularly stubborn today. He shrugged his shoulders and took his toothbrush. Confusion set in when he looked for the tooth paste and couldn't find it.
"Cora?" he called, but he knew it was in vain. She wouldn't hear him with the girls babbling next to her ears. Especially Sybil was talkative lately. She had been going to school for half a year now and was overzealous about every new thing she learned. It was rather sweet to listen to her dramatically narrated stories, but it could get exhausting over time.
Robert huffed. Cora must have misplaced the tooth paste or emptied it. He turned all her bottles of lotion, fragrance and some sort of hair conditioner in spray bottles, of which Cora managed to accumulate at least half a dozen, to look for the tooth paste. Nothing. Robert groaned and rummaged in her cosmetic bag that kept sanitary stuff, light medicine and things like plasters. No tooth paste. When he pulled back his hand, he caught a glimpse of something that stuck in between the bag and the tiled bathroom wall. He reached out to take it and recognised Cora's blister pack of her contraception. Robert was about to put it back into the cosmetic bag when he noticed something that confused him. The last pill that was removed was labelled with Friday. Today it was Tuesday. He thought again and again, doubting today's day, but it was indeed Tuesday. An icy sensation shot into his neck and ears and the thumping of his heart felt strangely hollow in his chest. He was afraid. Robert was absolutely terrified. He heard the doctor's voice clearly in his head. Another pregnancy could become very dangerous for your wife and the child. Her uterus has suffered severe injuries and it is likely that the placenta praevia will reoccur; well, if she can manage the pregnancy until then. As soon as Robert had heard the word 'dangerous', he had known that there would be no other pregnancy. He didn't need to know more. Never would he risk that on Cora. The red soaked covers were still fresh in his mind. He nearly had lost her once and that couldn't ever happen again. But now he stood here, in his hands the evidence that in fact it could happen again.
"Cora?" he called again.
Robert heard Edith's whining voice from downstairs. He turned the pack of pills in his hands and tried to make sense of it. Why should Cora not take her pills for four days in a row? There had to be an explanation. Probably she had everything under control. For sure there was nothing no worry about. His eyes caught sight of the subject he had actually looked for the whole time. The tooth paste stood next to Cora's toothbrush mug as it did every morning, only a few inches from its usual spot. Robert wondered if maybe he was the one that was a little bit out of it. Shaking his head, he started brushing his teeth. All the while he clutched the blister pack with his other hand. He rushed his morning routine and ran down the stairs not much later. His shirt was buttoned wrong and Cora chuckled at this as he entered the kitchen.
"Where is your head, Robert?" she gushed while wiping her hands on her apron and approaching him. Her fingers reached out to sort the mess he'd made of his shirt. Robert looked down on her face that was directly in front of him, engrossed in his shirt buttons. He couldn't see the blue of her eyes, for the fan of dark lashes. Her milky forehead showed light wrinkles of concentration, he assumed.
Robert harrumphed. "Cora?" he asked for a third time this morning. This time her head shot up and she looked at him awaiting. He pulled up the pack of pills and held it out for her silently. Her hands sank down slowly from his shirt and a shiver ran down Robert's spine at the distant brush across his chest. She took the pills from his hand and Robert could follow the rising shock on her face. Her wide eyes looked up at him and down on the pills again and she gulped audibly. Robert's heartrate accelerated at her reaction. He had so hoped he had been wrong.
"I…" Cora began stuttering. Robert wanted to break the heavy silence, for the girls at the nearby table had taken notice of their parents distraught and had went silent, but he didn't know what to say. He hadn't an inkling of what to say at this moment, other than 'damn' or 'bloody hell', but he knew that wouldn't do.
"I don't know how this could have happened," Cora mumbled, and Robert saw the shakiness in her hands as she turned the blister pack nervously between her fingers. He stilled her fumbling as he covered her hands with his.
"Well, it's no use now," he said, trying to reassure her. "We just have to find out if something has happened. There is no point in worrying until we know." Cora nodded and she gulped again. He could see her gathering herself. She inhaled deeply, pulled back her hands and pushed a curl behind her ear as she stepped away from him. The pack of pills disappeared underneath her apron in one of her skirt pockets. She turned towards the kitchen counter and closed the girls' prepared lunchboxes swiftly.
"The yellow one is for Edith today. Her usual one seems to have vanished somehow," Cora explained, and Robert was overwhelmed by her quick change of subject. "She is very upset, but there is nothing we can do about it in the morning."
"But the bunny box was my favourite one!" Edith started whining again. Mary groaned at her sister's emotional response.
"I told you, you can have my princess box," Sybil spoke in appeasement, and she tilted her head towards her elder sister in an adorable manner.
"And I told you, princesses are only for little girls," Edith said emphatically. Sybil shrugged her shoulders and dug in her cornflakes again. Robert noticed that his youngest daughter sat on her haunches at the table, but he refrained from mentioning it and turned to Cora again instead. She had discarded her apron and was filling her thermos flask with coffee hurriedly.
"I'm late," she said, and at the intake of Robert's furrowed brow she added, "I'll take care of everything. Don't worry!" She walked towards him, rested her free hand on his upper arm lightly and blew a kiss to his cheek.
"See you later!" She rushed out of the kitchen and Robert could hear her rummaging in the corridor.
"Ride carefully!" was the last thing he could call behind her before he could hear the snap of the front door. He shook his head and turned his attention to his girls.
Even if he had told Cora that there was no point in worrying, he did nothing but that the entire day. He sat at his desk at work and tipped his pen on the tabletop, worrying. He chaired a meeting, thinking about Cora's wellbeing all the while. He drove to the hardware store after work to buy paint for Mary's room, only seeing the crimson horror from six years earlier before his inner eye.
He remembered Sybil's birth as if it had been only yesterday. Cora had started wheezing beside him that evening in December when they had been seated on the couch in front of the television. He had called Rosamund to look after the girls immediately and Cora had been pacing the living room all the while, trying to breath away the first contractions. He still recalled the pale-yellow wide dress she had worn on this evening. Her hands had pressed the thick fabric to her round belly and her cheeks had been tainted a pretty blush. Robert had attempted to rub her lower back, but she had shooed him away, focused on her breathing. Cora was used to having a stretched process of childbirth, so she had refused to drive straight to the hospital. When her groans had gotten more frequently and louder, Robert had grabbed the car keys and fortunately Cora hadn't objected. Everything seemed to be just like the two births before. The process had dragged on for hours and Cora had been focused and determined. She'd clutched Robert's hand tightly, even painfully. His nightmares, however, started from the moment her piercing yell had cut through the air in the labour ward. It seemed as if no concept of time existed the moment it took him to comprehend the red pool between his wife's legs. Distantly he had heard the muttering of the doctor and the rushing of the nurse, but his eyes had been fixated on the mess between Cora's legs. He had been ushered out of the room.
"What is happening? What is wrong?" Robert had finally managed.
"Placenta praevia," had been the doctor's short answer and Robert had only been able to catch one last glimpse of Cora's pale and weak face. A nurse had explained the situation to him in more detail once he had been seated in the hallway.
"Your wife has placenta praevia. Her placenta sits relatively low in her abdomen and peels off due to the contractions of the uterus," the stout woman spoke calmly. Robert hadn't gotten a word of what she was saying.*
"But is it dangerous?" he had inquired.
"It can lead to massive bleeding. It would have been easier for us to adjust the process of the birth to that, if we had known that Mrs Crawley suffers from this condition. Surely you must have been aware of that," the nurse had remarked. Robert had shaken his head confused.
"No, we didn't know any of that," he'd uttered.
"But there must have been prior bleeding," she had insisted. Robert had shaken his head again.
He had held his tiny daughter in his arms before he had seen Cora again. The little thing was a picture of her mother. Robert had noticed instantly. The baby had not even needed to open its eyes for him to see it. Although, when it had stared at him for the first time, he had been breathless by the stark resemblance. The tiny girl had been all chipper while her blacked out mother had been treated with infusion after infusion. Cora had managed giving birth, but there had been indeed a lot of blood, as the nurse had said. The doctors had struggled to stabilise her and Robert had nearly gone insane in this big, terrible chaos. Hours had gone by until he had been able to sit by her side and hold her hand. She had been as white as a sheet and Robert had never seen her as motionless and passive. His heart only had filled with calm when she had held her baby and he had seen both pairs of big blue eyes in front of him.
"She is so precious, Robert," Cora's voice had been only a weak whisper, but he had understood every word she'd uttered. "Just look at her," she had cooed lowly. Her finger had traced the tiny girl's face softly.
"I know," Robert had spoken in a hushed tone. He hadn't dared to raise his voice any more than she. "You have done bravely." It had taken a while until the words had reached her, but when they had she'd raised her head slightly to look at him. The soft expression, that had been directed at her daughter, now had caressed his features. Her lips had parted as if to say something, but instead had only let out a weak breath. Then she had shifted slightly; Robert had been able to follow the lightly wincing contortion of her face. She had inhaled sharply through gritted teeth and had turned her arms towards him.
"Could you…" she had managed, and Robert had taken their youngest daughter out of her arms in an instant. He had risen from the edge of the bed und turned to the baby cot to put down the little one and to be able to help his wife afterwards.
"Ah…" her voice had only been low, but it made him shiver in retrospect as much as her piercing yell hours earlier. When he had turned back to Cora, she had been tangled in the covers, lying on her side and clutching her tummy. The messy covers were stained red again and the metallic odour had hit his nostrils with force. This nightmare had seemed to never end. The doctors had to perform further interventions. Apparently, a part of the placenta hadn't been pushed out properly before and had caused the new bleeding.** After the struggle of the belated removal of the placenta, Cora's uterus had been severely injured and the doctor had made clear the risks of further pregnancies. Very dangerous, very dangerous, very dangerous. Robert hadn't been able to think anything but these words for the following days. Cora had recovered soon after the interventions, but the shock stuck to them for a while.
Now Robert stood in the hardware store in front of the shelf with paint cans, in his hands a can with crimson colour. Shocked he noticed the subconscious choice of colour and put back the paint hastily. He wondered if Cora already knew more by now. God, it had only been a few hours that he had lived with this queasy uncertainty, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. He felt sick to the stomach and was exhausted without doing arduous tasks. He took the requested baby blue paint from the shelf. He wanted to be home fast and he wanted to see Cora soon. So, with this goal in mind he rushed to the checkout and home. He parked the car at an angle in the driveway and entered the house hurriedly, forgetting the paint in the trunk of the car.
"Cora?" he called into the house.
"Mama will be back soon," Sybil chirped from the living room. Robert sighed and his shoulders slumped as he approached his youngest daughter's whereabouts. Sybil sat cross-legged on one of the sofas with an opened story book in her lap. Robert took a seat next to her and tousled her hair lovingly, a gentle smile on his lips. She turned her head to him, slightly surprised by the demonstration of affection.
"She's gone out of the house?" he asked his daughter softly. Sybil nodded.
"It's just for a moment, she said, and Mary is old enough to look after me for a short while," she recounted.
"And Mary's up in her room?" Robert inquired.
"Yes, but it's alright. I'm just reading," Sybil assured, and casted her eyes down on the pages in front of her again. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to decipher the words. Robert was about to help her read, when the front door opened. Robert's and Sybil's heads shot up and they saw Cora through the opened door of the living room. She was slightly out of breath and several curls had slipped out of her up-do.
"Mama!" Sybil exclaimed, and her joyful expression made her eyebrows rise high on her forehead. Robert looked at his daughter shortly and her wide eyes reminded him so much of his wife's. When he turned back to Cora, she was pushing off her oxford shoes and her eyes searched his.
She waved the shopping bag she was holding and reported, "I'll only be a minute." Robert nodded and she rushed to the downstairs bathroom.
"Why is she so stressed, Papa?" Sybil asked. She looked at him with an awaiting expression.
"Because… well, because sometimes grown-ups just are stressed," he tried a desperate explanation. He knew he'd done a bloody bad job, but he just didn't have the head for it at the moment. "Try this word again," he pointed to the book in Sybil's lap and urged her to try a new attempt at reading.
"P-pu-pump, Pumpk-in. Pumpkin. That's easy, Papa. It's Cinderella's carriage. It's a pumpkin, you see?" Sybil patted the image in the book.
"Yes, I see," he answered without looking. Sybil continued reading. It wasn't long that Cora exited the bathroom and entered the living room. She sat down next to Sybil on the other side and laid her arm on the back of the sofa, searching for Robert's hand there. She looked at him over Sybil's head and smiled gently at him. With a calming shake of head, she assured him that everything was fine.
'Really?' Robert mouthed, and she nodded.
'Nothing's happened,' she mouthed back. Robert let out the breath he had held for the entire day unknowingly.
* I have only briefly described the symptoms of placenta praevia because I don't think Robert had taken in the major part of the information. However, if you would like further explanation: placenta praevia is a disposition that often leads to major bleeding in the last trimester of pregnancy. In this condition, the placenta is implanted relatively low. This leads to the peel off of the placenta in late pregnancy when the uterus is pulled up. If the placenta covers the cervix, a caesarean section is often necessary. Placenta praevia is diagnosed during an ultrasound scan later in pregnancy and will be tracked if the condition is significant.
Cora's placenta praevia here stayed undiagnosed. She hadn't suffered any significant bleeding during pregnancy, only in the process of giving birth.
** The described condition is called retained placenta. Parts of the placenta remain in the womb after birth and can cause heavy bleeding if left untreated. The late detection of Cora's complications during birth served to cause a lot of chaos and the interventions couldn't be performed as routine procedure, but only as emergency intervention. As a result, her uterus suffered severe consequences.
But lastly, I want to say that I adjusted the medical conditions as it fitted fiction here. Any deviation from personal or professional experiences are due to creative licence.