I took her money, and arrogantly, stupidly thought nothing would come of it. That there would be no consequences. No debt collectors would come a calling.
I bite my fist.
Then I find my mind clearing. There is nothing to cloud it. I have lost my son and I have lost Blake. There is not even an erection between us left.
Without lust, I see my path clearly. It is as if it is lit by a thousand lanterns. My mother stands at the end of it. It is not Sorab that Victoria wants. It is me. All I have to do is give Blake up. That’s all. A sob chokes me. I am surprised by it. By the selfish instinct that prompted it. I stand. I know exactly what must be done.
Blake in exchange for my son.
Another traitorous sob rises up my throat. I swallow it down. Silent tears begin to run down my face. It is only my body making its stand. I’m not about to listen to it. I stand up and go to my bedroom. I open my jewelry box. I lift the first tray. Throw it to the ground. The second tray follows quickly. I take a cleansing breath. A breath of love. There it is. Her card. All this time I saved it. Why? Because some cautious part of me knew this day was coming.
I take it out and look at it. The truth is I don’t need to look at it. Every single letter and number on it is indelibly imprinted into my memory bank.
I go to the bedside and the phone. I sniff once. Just to make sure that my voice when it comes out will be strong and sure. Then I clear my throat and cough. I pick up the phone and a voice full of pain and sorrow says from behind me, ‘Don’t call her, my darling.’
I turn toward the voice. My mouth parts in a soundless cry. My nose is so blocked from crying I can’t breathe through it anymore. I gaze at him sadly. The truth is he is my life, and fresh tears start pouring from my eyes.
‘For Sorab,’ I sob.
‘Not even for Sorab.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I will not give you up for anything.’
‘He is our baby. He is innocent. He is depending on us to protect him,’ I whisper.
‘He is my son. I will give up my life for him, but I will not give you up and live with her for him.’
I close my eyes. If only this was all a nightmare that I could wake up from.
‘Understand this, Lana. You are mine. You belong to me. Because you are young and you have never had others, you are like a child who has been given a priceless antique. You know not the price so you are willing to do the exchange. I will die before I let you make such an exchange.’
‘For Sorab,’ I plead.
‘You still don’t understand, do you? You can go on without me for Sorab’s sake, but I cannot. Without you nothing makes sense. Everything is meaningless.’
I stare at him blankly. I know his words carry meaning, important meaning, but they wash over me. I made that boy in my body. God gave him to me to introduce to this world. He deserves my loyalty. Until he can fend for himself I am his mother. I will fight his corner to the end.
Blake walks towards me and stands directly in front of me. ‘I know you want me to say otherwise, but I can only tell you what is in my heart. I love Sorab, but I love you more. When Sorab wants to go to summer camp, I will allow it, then I will watch with pride when he goes off to university and moves out, but you—I will not allow myself to be parted from you for one day.’
‘I don’t want to be parted from you either.’
‘Besides there is far, far more at stake than you understand.’
I know instinctively that he is right. I know nothing about these people, their cold and brutal ways. Slowly, I replace the receiver on its hook.
‘You don’t understand her. Maybe I don’t understand her either, but I still want you to trust me that I understand her better than you. I want you to know I would die for my son. There is no greater commitment than that. I will get him back.’
‘If you don’t?’
‘That is defeatist thinking. Don’t defeat me, Lana. You are the only one who can.’
I run into his arms. ‘Just bring my son back to me.’
He pries the card from my hand, not realizing I have memorized its contents.
‘Promise me only one thing.’
‘What?’
‘Never contact her. She will destroy you and Sorab.’
I nod.
‘There is something important you must know. While you are safe he is safe.’
I nod again. I am so frightened, I am glad he is taking over. My plan was no plan at all. It was to beg pity from the criminally insane. Stupid strategy.
He looks at his watch. ‘I want you to eat.’
I start shaking my head.
‘You have to be strong for Sorab.’
I cover my face. ‘I can’t eat.’
He nods. ‘Then you will watch me eat.’
He puts his hands around my waist and we walk together to the kitchen. He moves toward the refrigerator. And it occurs to me that I know exactly how I can be of use. I can keep him strong.
‘I’ll do it,’ I say, and I open the fridge door and rummage around. The chef has left some lamb chops wrapped in cling film.
‘Would you like me to make you a meal, madam?’ Rita, my housekeeper, asks from the doorway. She has curly hair and wears glasses. Usually she spends her nights at her daughter’s house in Surrey. She must be staying over because of the situation with Sorab.
‘Thank you, Rita, but I can manage.’
‘It’s no problem.’
‘No, I’d like to keep busy.’
She nods and disappears.
I find some broccoli and carrots to go with the chops. There is also mint sauce and some parsnip mash in a covered dish. Blake sits on an island stool while I prepare his meal for him. We do not speak.
He stares at me while I move around, but I know he is not really watching me. He is laying his plans. Once he expels his breath and says, ‘OK, OK.’
I say nothing. I know he is not talking to me.
Quietly, I work. It is therapeutic. When I put his food in front of him, he picks up his knife and fork and eats automatically. There is no enjoyment or sign that he is even tasting the food. Once or twice, he frowns. Halfway through his meal he stops eating, looks at me, smiles faintly and says, ‘Sometime ago I had my soul put in a box and delivered to you.’
I sit with my hands clasped on the counter.
At the end of it all, he gazes down as if perplexed at his empty plate. ‘Will you be all right if I leave you alone for a couple of hours?’
I nod.
Sixteen
I wake up suddenly from a restless sleep full of strange dreams and there is no moment of forgetfulness or mercy. Of slowly facing up to the day. The knowledge is instant and burning: my greatest enemy has my son. I close my eyes and wish again for sleep. But sleep does not come.
Instead I am filled with the terrible pain of knowing she has him. That we won’t be able to simply buy our way out of this nightmare. Whether he lives or dies lies at the whim of a mad, vindictive woman. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. Stare with bewilderment at my darkness. I am so lost and frustrated I want to scream, but I can’t.
I honestly feel as if I am losing it, going insane.
If only I had not gone to the theater. If only I had not asked Blake for more protection. If only he had not hired more men. If only I had just trusted Brian and let things be.
My head starts to ache.
Blake’s hand is heavy on my stomach. Carefully I move out from under the weight. Quietly, I fumble around, locate my alarm clock and depress the light button. Two a.m.
I sit up and press my throbbing temples. God, how I long for just one minute of forgetfulness from this insistent guilt and pain. Silently, I leave the bed and go toward Sorab’s room. For a long while I simply stand at the entrance looking at the empty cot. My heart is very loud in my chest. Ever since Sorab was taken I haven’t dared go into the nursery. I am almost afraid of it. I press my lips together and cast my eyes along the painted walls of fluffy clouds and stars.