Lessons to Learn
Chapter 15
Cora couldn't properly focus on anything all day. She rode her bike to school by intuition, not paying attention to her surroundings. A honking car pulled her back to the present for a moment. But her thoughts were spiked by the ever-same questions. What, for god's sake, was she doing? And what was she supposed to do? What if…?
Even though these ruminations led her nowhere she found herself unable to stop them. It seemed her nervous state made her short-tempered. She wasn't one known for impatience but today, the anxious pounding of her heart got the better of her.
At school, she grabbed rather randomly some folders for her first lesson, noticing they were for the wrong class only when she was already in the classroom with the students. She had no other choice but to leave them alone for a while to get the folder with the right copies. She hastened down the hallway to her office, where she rummaged on her desk and in her bag. She groaned when she was unable to locate them.
"Can I help you?"
She spun around to see Oliver in the open doorway, leaning casually against the white metal frame.
"Did they have no work left for you?" Cora snapped. She turned back to her desk in a hurry and lifted the stacks of documents anew in the irrational hope that the folder might just appear now.
"Woah, someone's in a bad mood today," Oliver said behind her.
"What?" she muttered without really listening, and turning around resignedly after her search was again fruitless, she registered his – but mostly her own – words. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just there is a lot on my mind lately." She sighed.
"Oh, I can understand that," Oliver gave back. And he seemed nearly relieved. 'Oh, do you? Do you really?' Cora was close to answer but this time she kept her mouth shut. "I actually have to be with my class right now. I'm just looking for my darn copies!"
"How do they look? Maybe I can help you find them," Oliver proposed and already stepped into the room.
"Nevermind, Oliver." He wouldn't be of any help. Random copies for students didn't look very distinctive after all. "I'll just have to think of something. I have to get back to my class." She went to the door with a shrug of her shoulders. On her way out, a blue item caught her attention in the corner of her eye. The folder. It lay right there on the sideboard, ready to be picked up for her lesson. Lost in her thoughts, she must have already deposited it there this morning.
"Well, there it is," Cora said as she took it and slipped out of the office past Oliver. She locked the door after she had to shoo him away from it a little.
"I guess we'll see each other," he called after her as Cora already walked down the hallway.
In class, Cora provided the students with writing tasks. She wouldn't be able to hold a classic lecture today. So, she sat at her table in front of the class and looked into her own paperwork, shushing the children every now and then. The minutes stretched like chewing gum. And Cora's nerves were provoked by every yet so little irritation. It couldn't be a very pleasant lesson for her students either, she thought. The way she chided some of the children for marginal disturbances wasn't to be excused by her personal affairs. She should have herself better under control.
When she left school at half-past ten for her appointment, she felt like a student skipping class. It was unfamiliar to leave the school in the middle of the day. But at the same time, Cora knew she couldn't wait much longer. She was glad that the ride to the doctor's office didn't mean a great roundabout way. It was already hard enough to get there on time. She was out of breath when she quickly locked her bike in front of the big apartment complex and hurried up the fleet of stairs into Dr Baxter's office. She took a moment in front of the door to breathe deeply and adjust her hair a bit that was probably messed up by the wind. She mustered the brass sign on the door.
Dr Phyllis Baxter, Specialist in Gynaecology.
Cora had changed her gynaecologist after Sybil's birth. She hadn't felt really comfortable with the elder doctor anymore and had been looking for someone she could trust more while still having her last follow-up examinations after the birth. After all, Dr Tapsell hadn't diagnosed her placenta praevia properly. Or more precisely, hadn't recognised the gravity of the condition. When Cora had had her first appointment at Dr Baxter's, she had felt safer and better off instantly. And it had proven right all the years. Cora was glad she had her as a doctor, not only for herself but also for the girls.
She shook herself and entered the office. It was time. She took the advised seat in the waiting area and tapped her fingers nervously on her handbag that rested in her lap. Now, it could only take ages. She tried to not look at the baby photos on the wall and keep her eyes away from the young and expecting women around her. God, she felt so trapped. Trapped in circumstances that weren't meant for her. Her chest constricted. The air was running out. But she tried to keep her breath steady. She knew that there was enough oxygen; she shouldn't let her panic get the better of her. Cora focused on controlled intakes of air through her nose while pictures of her last panic attack flooded her mind. She had had a few of them in her youth. And never since. Not even when everything had been so new and foreign in her first year in England. So, the situation right now shouldn't actually pose a bigger problem.
"Mrs Crawley. Examination room 2," the young nurse announced with a smile.
Cora nodded and got up quickly, clutching her handbag to her stomach. She followed the nurse out of the waiting room.
"The one on the left," the nurse explained and pointed down the corridor. Cora nodded again quietly. She felt foolish. Clumsy in everything she did.
As she entered the examination room, she couldn't bring herself to sit down. It seemed impossible. And again, it remembered her of the 16-year-old Cora, running down the pier at the harbour in Newport, trying to flee the avalanche of her own thoughts that threatened to drown her. Back then, she hadn't been able to stop walking and keep her body still, just as now. It seemed the time didn't want to pass at all as Cora paced back and forth in front of the desk in the examination room.
Then, the door opened and Dr Baxter came in, wearing her calming gentle smile and the immaculate white coat. Her dark hair was put up modestly and orderly and had to be a great juxtaposition to Cora's messy updo with stubborn curls spiking out here and there.
"Mrs Crawley," Dr Baxter said softly. She pointed to the seat in front of the desk and went around to her own chair behind it. Cora pulled back the seat and sat down on the edge. Dr Baxter's voice was soothing and it started curing the desperate plummeting of Cora's heart. She wasn't fine by all means but things were only getting better by the minute.
"How are you doing?" Dr Baxter asked with a friendly smile.
"Fine," Cora answered automatically. "I manage," she added. She wasn't quite sure if she spotted a slight furrow on the doctor's brow.
"How can I help you?" Dr Baxter inquired.
"Well, uhm, I missed my period for quite a while and…"
Dr Baxter nodded. She listened. She didn't judge. She understood.
"And you would like to know the cause of that," she suggested.
"Yes," Cora said.
"I take it you haven't taken a pregnancy test yet," the doctor spoke as she rested her lower arms on the top of the desk.
Cora simply shook her head.
"Well, are there any other symptoms you noticed?"
And Cora started talking. She explained, reticent at first until the words flowed easier. She listed the unbroken exhaustion, the constant tiredness, the fragile nerves. She also told the doctor about the lack of appetite in the morning and the cravings that flared up after noon. It felt good to talk all of that off her chest. Things she hadn't even realised were bothering her.
"Okay, I see," Dr Baxter nodded. "I'll have a look at it. You can take a seat on the examination couch."
Cora did as told and tried to not think about the other times she had pulled up her shirt as she had lain back on a couch much like this.
"You know the whole procedure already," Dr Baxter said. She sat down on a stool next to the examination couch. She pulled the ultrasound device to her and prepared the probe while the device booted up.
"Yeah, I do," Cora said but it came out more like a choke. Dr Baxter turned her head to Cora while Cora focused on some patch at the ceiling.
"Mrs Crawley, I know what a pregnancy would mean for me," her voice was soft as velvet. "We have to provide clarification now, and I assure you we will find a solution then. I know that you are scared, and that probably won't change if I told you not to worry."
Cora chanced a short glance at the friendly face to her left. She took a deep breath and nodded.
"I'm taking care, Mrs Crawley."
"Thank you," Cora whispered and turned her head back to the ceiling. She clutched the bunched-up shirt even tighter in her fists.
"So…" Dr Baxter lifted the ultrasound probe. "It's getting a bit cold now." She ran the probe across Cora's abdomen, pressing keys on the device, her eyes glued to the screen. Cora didn't dare to look. She just waited for the doctor to finish the whole procedure. It was silent in the room except for the keys on the ultrasound device and Dr Baxter's regular breathing. It seemed as if she didn't intend on finishing the examination ever. Cora's fists became a bit sour.
"Alright," Dr Baxter finally said. "I can assure you that gynaecologically everything is alright," Dr Baxter stated with an encouraging hint of a smile while she wiped the ultrasound probe clean with a disinfection towel.
"Alright?" Cora echoed. Numbly she took the tissue Dr Baxter offered her to clean her abdomen.
"Everything looks unremarkable. Look," she turned the screen with a frozen ultrasound image toward Cora and pointed into the greyish blurring. "There is no sign of a pregnancy, Mrs Crawley."
Cora's eyes frantically searched the screen for a detail that might have been missed.
"No?" she breathed. Dr Baxter shook her head. "But I thought…" Cora stuttered.
"Understandably so."
Cora wiped her abdomen. She gulped. "Alright," she whispered. Dr Baxter reached out her hand and accepted the used tissue to throw it in the bin. She went back to the desk.
"You can join me when you're ready," she said. Cora nodded absentmindedly. She adjusted her shirt again, tucking it into the waistband of her skirt. Somehow, she had even more questions swirling in her head as she sat back down in front of the doctor.
"But what is it then? Why was there no period the last few weeks?" Cora asked. She didn't dare think about the other 'symptoms' she had complained about. Now she felt bad for whining.
"There can be several causes for that," Dr Baxter stated. She clasped her hands on the desk and leaned forward a little. "Mrs Crawley, tell me about your last weeks, your last months. What were you doing? Was there anything different in your life? How would you describe your personal situation at the moment?"
"Well," Cora cleared her throat. "Things have been a bit busy lately, I guess. There had been some changes at work for instance."
"What kind of changes?"
"A little alteration in my duties. I'm now part of the school's council which means more paperwork and more administrative work but less teaching," Cora said.
"I assume it's not only easy to adopt these changes," Dr Baxter replied. Cora shrugged her shoulders. "Does your family support you?"
"Yes. Well, I guess they do," Cora said. "It's not really that big of a topic at home. Everyone has their own worries, you know."
"So, I am right if I'm guessing there are also a lot of things for you to be done, awaiting you when you get home from work?" the doctor inquired.
"Only the usual stuff," Cora supplied. After a short pause, she added, "But it's been quite exhausting recently."
"How long have you been so overly busy?" Dr Baxter asked.
"Two… weeks? No. No, three… four. Over a month, I think," Cora still counted up the weeks in her head but she had lost track of time a while ago already. Dr Baxter nodded.
"Mrs Crawley," the doctor caught her attention again. "I think the most evident cause for your irregular cycle, and explaining all of your other symptoms as well, is stress," she said with a serious expression.
"Stress?" Was it that simple? That marginal? She must be a really wimpy creature if the little inconveniences lately had such an impact on her physical state.
"I think so," the doctor nodded. "I would still recommend a regular check-up with your family doctor, just to be sure. But I assume a little rest and a bit more care for your own needs, Mrs Crawley, will already help a great deal."
Hard work paid off. He had always been convinced of that, and once again – after long struggles – it proved right. Robert went down the hallway with a light step. He was on his way to an internal meeting to evaluate the progress on the all-absorbing system set-up. It was about time for the bank to get back to their routine duties. The alteration in the working environment had already taken up enough of their valuable time. But Robert felt good about it. The test run this morning had gone smoothly, showing gratifying results. Rosamund, John, and he had been witness to the pilot run, and they had left the office in a light mood together. Now, the results would be discussed in a bigger round. Robert was especially excited to tell Mr Carson about the joyful news. After all, he had worked at least as hard on the integration of the new system as Robert.
Robert came by Anna's office on his way to the meeting. Her door was open as usual and she stood at the bureau next to the wide desk, sorting documents and humming merrily. Robert smiled as he passed the room. Then, he noticed a warm and welcome scent filling the air. He halted, and then, he also heard the happy wheezing of the coffee machine.
"Hello, Anna," he greeted. She turned to the door and returned his smile.
"Hello, Robert. John already told me the pilot run was a success," she said with a grin. She straightened a stack of papers before setting them down to the side and throwing her blonde braid over her shoulder.
Robert nodded. A big grin spread on his features. "I'd say we didn't deserve anything less. Everyone has worked on it with such devotion."
"For sure," Anna said. "Now go share the happy news. I guess the others are already waiting in the conference room." Anna waved him down the corridor encouragingly.
"Might I ask you a small favour first?" he inquired tentatively.
"What can I do for you?" She came around the desk, abandoning the bureau with its documents.
"Would you give me a cup of your great coffee?"
Anna laughed, and noddingly she said, "Of course. That won't be a problem." She went to the coffee machine and poured Robert a cup of the freshly brewed coffee in one of the spare cups she stored. Without further comment, she added a sugar cube and stirred the steaming drink swiftly. "Here you go," she said. "And now off with you!"
Robert accepted the coffee and lifted a hand as he set off to leave. "Thank you, Anna!" She grinned amusedly.
The meeting was a happy affair. It has been a while since Robert had led a conference this relaxed. He could only remember his tension from the last couple of conferences. But now, with his employees also being in good spirits it felt more like a jolly family reunion. The laughter, the banter, the patting on the back. It lifted a weight off Robert's chest. He shook everyone's hand when they eventually left the conference room. And with a nod, Mr Carson held his hand a bit longer than the others.
Robert nearly managed to leave the bank at the official end of work. Actually, he hadn't considerably less to do but it was much less of a burden because Robert could finally see the end. As he drove home, he turned on the radio and even increased the volume in his jolliness.
"And you wonder why I'm here today,
And so you should, I would," ABBA sounded from the speakers.
"When I left, I felt I'd had enough,
But in the shape and form I appear now,
I have learned to cope,
And love and hope is why I am here now."
Robert let the song play and slightly bobbed his head to the rhythm.
"And now you see another me, I've been reloaded, yeah,
I'm fired up, don't shut me down."
But somehow, it felt weird, listening to music like ABBA on his own, without Cora humming and singing by his side. He turned down the volume a bit and was glad when he pulled into their driveway a minute later. He turned off the engine and leaned back against the seat in the now so very silent car. His eyes wandered over the still steering wheel and then out the windscreen to the bushes of their front yard. The hydrangeas looked unspectacularly green, not yet showing their colourful umbels. It had been a good day until now. Robert could mark it as another step of success in his business. He had it under control. The great financial institute his father had been so proud about when Robert had founded it, and his former colleagues had called a mad idea. Robert had once again proven that he was capable of leading it successfully. But he realised when he would get out of the car and enter his house, he wouldn't solely be a man who had things under control. His company? Yes. His family, his marriage? If he was honest, not really. But this wouldn't do. What was the use of a victory at the bank when he couldn't look Cora into the eyes? They had messed up lately. But he wanted it to work again. He hated troubles. He hated arguments, even more so at home. At most with Cora.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he took heart and decided he probably had to do what both of them had overgone the last few days. He had to give them another chance. Another chance at approaching each other again. He sighed. He didn't really think he could overlook Cora's actions lately just like this. But Robert guessed with his particularly light mood today there wouldn't come another moment soon again where he was as close to conniving Cora's missteps as right now. He didn't want to picture what further weeks of resentment between them would do to the state of their marriage. He also didn't want to picture what it would make of them if Cora would answer his proposal now with an ongoing grudge.
Robert shook himself free of the images of nasty what-if's and exited the car with a heavy sigh. He unlocked the front door and after he closed it behind himself, he paused in his movements and stood listening in the corridor.
Something was different.
It was deathly quiet in the house, not a sound reached his ears. Usually, he heard Cora's busy working somewhere. Bustling in the kitchen, cleaning in the living room, rummaging in the pantry, or only humming in her study. But now there was nothing. He had seen her bike outside, so he had been sure she was at home. She had to be.
Robert took a breath, wanting to call out her name. But he didn't. They hadn't talked for days and now calling for her as soon as he stepped inside, it somehow felt weird. Out of place. It was unlike their relationship to tiptoe around each other like that. But unfortunately, that was how it was at the moment.
Robert put down his briefcase and slipped off his coat before he approached the kitchen cautiously. The door was a crack open and with his forefinger, he pushed it a little. But the kitchen was empty. No Cora. Robert made a step inside and walked from the kitchen to the open living space.
She was perched on the edge of the sofa, her hands supporting her face. There were no lights turned on in the room and there wasn't much daylight, which made it hard for Robert to spot her instantly. She looked lost and small in the centre of the room.
"Cora?" he said tentatively. Her head snapped around and Robert saw the red and tear-streamed cheeks. "Cora?!" he breathed and approached her. She seemed shocked to see him there. She tried covering her tears and wiping them away behind one hand. Her nervous look that evaded him now made her appear caught. But what could he have possibly caught her by? Why was she hiding that she cried? And why – he wasn't sure if he wanted an answer to that – why did she cry on her own?
He sat down next to her. She was rigid and motionless. After giving it a short thought, Robert put his hand on her shoulder. He slowly caressed it.
"What happened?" he asked quietly. Cora shook her head. She didn't lean into his touch but she also didn't pull away. Her taciturnity frightened him. He leaned forward, trying to get into her field of vision, trying to see in her face what she wasn't talking about. Her eyes shortly moved to his face, and Robert saw how she wanted to pull them away immediately. But something in his look – was it that his concern was so visible or that part of her felt the way he did and longed for a long-missed deep look into the other's eyes – made her persist. Her furrowed face lost its tensed wrinkles, and first Robert thought they'd be relieved by a cautious smile, but after seconds, he realised that her façade fell. Her features softened but there was no smile. Her eyes were dull, her lips lifelessly relaxed, and the water rose on her lower lids. Their connected eyes opened her floodgates, and while Cora didn't move a bit, new tears flowed out of her eyes mercilessly. Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly, and she blinked once, resulting in a cascade of teardrops falling into her lap. Robert's hand on her shoulder moved around her body and he pulled her close to him. She fell into his arms like a doll. She didn't resist and she seemed weightless against his chest. She had her arms still gathered in front of her and didn't reciprocate his hug. But she let herself be held in her despair, and Robert sensed that this was quite a lot already.
The way she cried – and she still did because Robert felt how his shirt was getting increasingly soaked – was rather unusual for her. There were only tears, no sound that passed her lips and no sobs that rocked her body. Robert was surprised by the thought that crossed his mind. He never thought he'd think that way but he wished Cora would really cry. There was something that had to find a way out of Cora's inner turmoil. Robert wanted to shake the lifeless doll in his arms to make his Cora come return and God, for his sake, bawl her eyes out if that would help.
A sharp intake of breath moved Cora's body, and her breathing became more purposeful.
"I'm not pregnant," she whispered. Robert rubbed her back soothingly.
"Of course, my dear," he said. And then, he suddenly wondered why she even mentioned that. Why of all things that could possibly bother her right now did she voice this particular thought? "Why do you say so?" he asked cautiously.
Cora pulled back a little and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "It's just…" she murmured. Her look was directed at her lap where her hands began fiddling only to move up again and wipe her cheeks renewed. "I thought I might be but I'm not," her voice was barely above a whisper as if she didn't want him to hear her.
"You… you thought you were pregnant?" he asked confused. His hands rested partly on his, partly on her knees.
"Well, not really. I don't know." She sighed. She slowly lifted her head and looked at him. It seemed to reassure her because she took another breath and began explaining more calmly. "It was actually impossible. I mean I didn't know how it could have possibly happened, but there were so many signs."
"Signs like what?"
She looked back and forth between his eyes. "Like… like a missed period."
He gulped. Oh, yes of course.
"And… the tiredness, and the rapid fluctuations in appetite." Robert mustered his wife and the red-rimmed eyes with the dark bags underneath in front of him, and the resentment he had felt towards her only minutes before was washed away by a wave of guilt.
"But you aren't pregnant?" he said.
"No, I was at the doctor's office today. I'm not," she said and shook her head.
"And that's making you cry?" He wasn't sure if he quite understood. Cora was quiet. She didn't look at him. She didn't answer. It felt like she was the same withdrawn person she had been the last few days. She wasn't sharing with him. "Or is there something else?" Robert asked. He really wanted to know. This time he wouldn't let her slip away.
"No," she said while exhaling. Her head sank down and she looked into her lap while shaking her head. "It's stupid. I don't know why it makes me cry. I should just be relieved. And I am relieved. I really am." Now her eyes sought his again. They pleaded with him to believe her. Which he did of course.
"It's an emotional topic," he tried to offer. Robert wasn't a good shrink but he always wanted to give Cora his full support. Especially regarding this issue. Sybil's birth had left a mark on both of them, and he had promised himself he would never let another pregnancy hurt her. Now, he registered he had failed. She was hurt. By the frightening thought of possible pregnancy, she was unable to share (because Robert knew how she must have feared his reaction most of all). By the thought of another baby, she must have had after all. She wasn't pregnant, no one had done anything wrong in that business. But Cora was pained. And Robert hadn't been there.
"Yes, I guess I must have gotten pretty emotional about it," Cora said. "I didn't consciously hope for a baby but now that I know there is no baby…," she choked.
"Do you… do you want one?" Robert asked. God, this problem was taking on proportions!
Cora shook her head. "I assume I just somehow started living with the thought," she whispered. Robert shuffled a bit closer. He tried taking her into his arms again.
"And that's alright, isn't it?" he said. His right palm cupped the back of her head that he gently pressed against his chest.
"Yes," she nodded. "Yes, I guess actually, everything is alright." There was silence for a moment. Then, Cora turned her head up to him. "Thank you," she said. Robert pressed a kiss to her forehead and patted her hair lightly. She tucked her head beneath his chin. Things felt much more to be right again. After some seconds, Cora wriggled herself from his grip and brushed over her thighs, flattening the wrinkled cotton of her skirt. Faster than Robert could look, Cora would be up and about, scurrying across the room again. But there were still questions he had. So many.
"And what about the missed… you know?" he inquired.
"The missed what? Oh, period. Nothing alarming. It's nothing really."
Robert nodded. But then he thought differently. "But it has to be something. It's not normal, right? To just miss it like that?" He didn't want her to keep something from him again. She had to get out with it now.
"Dr Baxter said there is nothing to worry about," Cora said as she got up from the sofa.
"Okay, but what did she exactly say is the cause for your… well, symptoms?" Robert dug deeper. He kneaded the edge of the sofa to keep him from jumping up and following on her heel. That would probably not help the case.
Cora shrugged her shoulders and approached the kitchen table in the next room. There was her bag sitting on a chair, waiting impatiently for her. Robert guessed there was an abundance of essays and papers to be marked in there.
"Just stress or something," she said and picked up the bag to lift it on the tabletop. She opened it and started searching the content.
"Hm," Robert nodded. "But stress? That doesn't sound good." Now he slowly got up and followed her into the open kitchen.
"I guess not," she replied, her eyes glued to the depth of her bag. "But not very bad either."
"Do you think so?"
"Well," she said and paused her rummaging for a moment. She turned to him, every weakness in her features was gone and there was the usual determination. "It's nothing new after all. If someone said to you that you skipped lunch so often because of too much stress at work it wouldn't surprise you. Robert, it will get over and the stress will decrease some time," she reasoned. "There is nothing I can do about it now."
Robert sighed. He knew too well what she meant.
"Yes, there is. You could take a pause for today," he said and pointed his head to her bursting bag.
"No, I can't, Robert. That's the point," her tone was sharp. She had a desperate look in her eyes as she glanced at him. She gathered some documents and shrugged her shoulders resignedly. "I'm trying to get something done. I'm in my study." And she went off.
Robert didn't quite know where that left them.
A/N: First off, thank you all for your patience! I hope you like the new chapter. I'm sorry for everyone who wished for a Cobert baby number four… but I had different plans for this fic. Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Reviews are always welcome!