Chapter 3

 

Elora leaned her elbows on the guardrail bordering the manmade lake and stared across the water up the rise to where Danny practiced his swing on the driving range. He took his time, lined himself up, drove a beautiful ball, then adopted a very relaxed pose as he followed its path. She could tell he took pleasure from the sport, as her father and brother had done.

Elora abandoned all cares for the moment and simply enjoyed watching Danny. He had a superb physique, one that, on later reflection, she could now appreciate having been so close to only moments before. Her heart skipped a beat. Even at this distance she could tell he had a natural, powerful grace. She understood better than most what it was like to share that grace, to unleash that power for an appreciative audience. She sighed.

Temptation tugged at her to abandon her errands and walk the course with him, just to indulge herself with watching him play. She knew she’d like it; she’d like it very much.

Sunlight sparkled on the rippling waters of the Loch Ness, momentarily blinding her. The terror of only four short months ago assailed her in the shimmering depths of that sudden blindness…

 

I can’t see.

An overhead light flashed in my eyes. I blinked and looked away, but the only other place to look was at the nurse who was removing the bandages swathing my left leg. The unforgiving light revealed all.

I don’t want to see.

I clutched at the covering blanket with hands that had somehow, suddenly grown into claws. I wanted to scream. I longed to scream and scream and just go on screaming until this nightmare I had fallen into disappeared, and I was allowed to wake. Only I was awake, and as I watched the nurse, I made no sound. Not even a whimper.

What good was a whimper when your whole world lay shattered and in ruins?

“The wound is healing nicely, Elora,” the nurse said. She continued on in a blithely cheery voice, “There’s no sign of infection this time. The doctor will be pleased to know he won’t have to operate again.” She smiled at me from where she worked at the far end of the bed. “Now that you’re fully conscious, he’ll be here shortly to explain everything to you.”

Explain what? How many different ways are there to say he had to remove my foot due to an infection?

I felt sick, physically sick. Sweat beaded my brow. I didn’t know if it was due to the lingering fever or the growing horror gripping my insides. Even though I hadn’t made a sound, the nurse must have seen something on my face for she handed me a bucket and a damp cloth in short order. Despite the fact there was nothing left in my stomach, it still heaved and roiled. At last I lay back against the sterile white pillows, exhausted and shivering.

Why God? Why me?

All I had had was a blister on my big toe. The ever-present scream surged somewhere in my breast, seeking an outlet for release. With my last scrap of willpower, I held it back.

I got blisters all the time. People didn’t get their feet chopped off because of them. I could feel my nails digging into my palms where I lay in the hospital bed. This had to be some horrible mistake. Sure I had been ill, deathly ill, but still….

How could a blister on your toe cause a fever in your head? How could the doctor jump to the conclusion that my foot had to be removed because of it? How could this be happening to me?

The door opened. “I’m Dr. Harmond, Ms. St. James,” the lab-coated man said.

I could only nod my head. Anything more would take too much effort. My throat worked up and down, but no sound came out. I couldn’t help myself. I watched as the doctor poked and prodded at the lump of flesh that hung halfway below my knee. Unable to watch anymore, I closed my eyes. But I was unable to escape listening to the doctor’s grim explanation.

“You do understand what has happened here? A deadly infection, known as necrotizing fasciitis or more commonly called flesh eating disease, had entered your bloodstream, most likely through the open wound of your blister. As soon as you were brought in, your body – to put it in simple terms – crashed. You slipped into unconsciousness and were on life support for seven days. During that time we performed a series of six surgeries.

“At first we only removed the toe, but the infection continued to spread. So we had to amputate the entire foot. We managed to halt the infection just below the ankle, but gangrene set in and we were forced to remove a few more inches of leg.” He paused. I could feel his eyes studying me. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I opened my eyes and stared up at him. The doctor was no longer poking my flesh. Instead he stood there looking down upon me.

“You must understand that for two days you had no blood pressure, at one point you flat-lined, but we brought you back. I realise this all must come as a shock to you, but the worst is now over.”

How could he think that? Even in my weakened state, I knew that the worst was yet to come.

And then it came to me. Maybe he was talking about some other person’s operation. If I really concentrated, I just knew I could still feel my foot.

But then he shattered my illusion by saying, “I’m glad we were able to save your knee. You should be able to walk unhindered with a transtibial prosthesis in no time.” 

Walk? How could walking possibly matter? My life was effectively over. What life could a professional figure skater have without a foot?

During all this time, the nurse had been cleaning the wound. “You’re a lucky woman, Elora,” she said. “There’s absolutely no longer any sign of infection. You’re leg is healing beautifully.”

Yeah, lucky.

She re-bandaged it and tucked the blanket snugly around my lower half. As if by covering it up she could somehow hide the truth.

I sagged back against the mattress. I clenched and unclenched my fists, I could feel my throat working spasmodically, and I could hear my breathing sounding harsh and uneven in my own ears. More than anything, I longed to sink back into that oblivion of unconsciousness. The doctor and the nurse left me. The nurse with the promise she would bring me something for the pain.

Didn’t they know there was nothing that could possibly ease such pain?

Where was Trevor? I needed him now more than I’d ever needed anyone in my life. I remembered my last image of him, seen through a hazy veil of fever. There had been a party when we got back home to Canada. I wasn’t well, but Trevor had insisted I attend. I sighed. His insistence had probably saved my life.

He’d been so annoyed with me earlier that same day when I wiped a hand across my damp brow and told him how ill I’d felt with what I thought was the flu on the flight home. In the previous week’s competition I had out-performed myself, winning the coveted title as the reigning champion at the Grand Prix Final, and he didn’t want me behaving like a prima donna, acting as if I were too good to attend the celebration put on by the City of Halifax. So I went, when all I’d really wanted was to curl up in bed and let the world pass me by.

Then, when I collapsed at the party, Trevor had rushed me here, to the hospital in Halifax. That was the last thing I remembered before waking up to the nightmare my life had become.

My thoughts drifted off and took me far away with them.

Sometime later I awoke to the sound of the door opening. The doorway framed Trevor as he stood there looking at me. Heat prickled at the back of my eyelids, and I blinked several times in an attempt to regain my composure. I couldn’t speak, but I could lift my hand towards him. I so needed the reassurance only he could give.

“I’m glad to see you’re finally awake.” He entered the room and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. “Everyone’s been worried sick.”

As always, Trevor was immaculately dressed and his hair freshly streaked. He pulled up a chair and took my hand. I wanted more than his hand; I needed to feel his arms around me. I wanted to crawl into his skin. He’d never been demonstrative before, and I could see he wasn’t about to begin now. A cold premonition settled somewhere in the nether regions of my heart.

“I’ve called a press conference,” he said.

“You’re not telling them this.” I heard the hysteria edging my voice. I could hear it and could do nothing to stop it. I clutched at Trevor with both hands. “Don’t let them in here. Oh Trevor, keep them away from me!”

“I won’t let them near you, Darling,” he soothed. “I promise. You know I love you and would never do anything to hurt your reputation.” He patted my hand then let go before sitting back in his chair, casually crossing his legs. I felt bereft without even the small contact of his hands.

“I’ve decided we’ll simply tell them you’re not well. It’s what I’ve been telling them all along. That you’re ill and have had a physical breakdown of sorts which has injured you, and that you won’t be skating anytime in the near future.”

“Physical breakdown? Injury?” I stared at him. “I’m broken!” I could feel the scream that had taken up residence in my breast raging to be let out. “I’ll never skate again!”

“Ever since you gained custody of your niece, you’ve been harping about cutting back on competitions and travel. Remember the asinine article two years ago about you quitting?” Trevor asked. I was incapable of answering him, and, taking my silence as agreement, he continued, “We can cash in on that angle. We’re going to tell them you’re retiring. You came out on top with that last big win, bringing in the World Championship title. Now is a perfect time for you to retire and rest on your laurels.”

“Retiring?” I finally managed to choke the absurd word out. With trembling hands I pushed my long, smooth hair behind my ears. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before I asked, “And what about you? Are you retiring as well?”

“Hell, no.” Trevor looked stunned. “Why in God’s name should I retire?”

“When we get married, are you going to cut back your commitments and travel time?”

“I can’t possibly marry you,” Trevor said. “Just look at you.” His sky-blue eyes widened dramatically.

“I’m still the same person.” I clutched at the thin blanket shielding my legs and crushed the material into tight wads between my sweaty palms.

“You’re a cripple, for God’s sake. I have to attend functions and media events. It won’t look very good having you at my side in a wheelchair.” I flinched as if he’d struck me a physical blow. “I’ve seen what’s left of your leg,” he charged on ruthlessly, “and it’s not a pretty sight. That ugly lump of withered flesh just hanging there.” He gave an elaborate shudder. I watched revulsion mar his handsome features and saw the disgust that darkened his eyes. “You were beautiful before, but now….” He gestured to the flat space on the bed where a leg should be.

“You’re reneging on your promise to marry me?”

“I never promised anything.” Trevor drummed his manicured fingers on the chair’s armrest. “You built up on the attraction between us after your folks died. I gave you comfort and you heard wedding bells.”

“You used me.”

“We used each other, Darling. We both climbed to the top on each other’s backs. You were at your peak. I would have stayed with you all the way, taken you to the next Olympics, but that’s now out of the question. I’ve already signed a contract with Talia Singh. She’s young, but she and I could go far. She probably won’t do all that great in the beginning, not like your spectacular entrance when you took the world by storm, but in another couple of years she’ll be a force to be reckoned with. You wait and see.” He sighed. “I love that girl already.”

All I could do was stare at my former lover as if he’d suddenly sprouted horns. He used to talk to me that way, as if I were the only skater worth his time and attention. He had always spoken so easily of love to me, so much so that I had believed every word. But hearing his words now, I realized that they had only ever been meaningless sounds. Deep inside she felt something break.

Would I ever be whole again? In body or in spirit?

“We’ll talk more about this later, when you’re out of the hospital. I’ll visit if I can, but I’m pretty busy these days with Talia. Get better soon, Darling.” He leaned forward, gave me a swift buss on the cheek, and then he was gone.

Get better soon? Nothing could ever make any of this any better.

The ever-present scream vanished, as did the tears that had been hovering so near the surface. It was as if all emotion had suddenly been drained from my soul.

Elliot had never liked or trusted him, but my twin agreed that Trevor had good business sense and knew how to push me into giving it my all. Elliot had warned me about Trevor’s personality, but I hadn’t listened. I had been so blinded by the headiness of my own success. I thought I could have it all.

I covered my face with both hands. I missed my twin desperately. I needed my brother. More than anything I wanted to have my family back. If the price of my leg could have restored my family, I would have willingly paid the price. But now I had nothing – no career, no husband, nothing.

All I had was Caitlin – I sat up straighter in bed – and she was everything to me.

I squared my shoulders and raised my chin. I refused to let Caitlin, or myself, down. I stared at the cheerful bouquet of yellow balloons Caitlin had lovingly brought in the day before.

A shaft of sunlight struck the balloons, blinding in their brilliance…

 

Blinding white water rippled over the Loch Ness as Elora watched a duck take wing along the shimmering water’s surface. She followed its flight where it darted over Danny. She gave herself a mental shake then turned away. A handsome, virile man such as he was not destined for the likes of her. She shuddered to think what he would make of her crippling disability. The thought of watching disgust mar his handsome face was more than she could bear.

Someone bumped her arm. Elora grabbed the railing for support. She glanced up.

“Excuse me,” a young man said.

“Hi, Tom,” she answered.

“Hey, Lori,” Tom answered. “I didn’t recognize you.” He took a step back and looked her up and down. “You got your hair done, looks nice.”

“Lookin’ good, Lori,” Cedric, his companion added. He set his golf bag down. “It’s great to see you out and about again.”

Elora smiled at two of Elliot’s childhood friends. They weren’t content with mere smiles and both gave her hearty embraces. It really was great to live in a community where you knew most of the people.

“You’re walking better, Lori,” Cedric added. “Who knows, you’ll probably be skating again one of these days.”

Elora looked out over the water and drew in a deep, steadying breath. Only a chosen few knew the truth, the rest of the world had been led to believe it was nothing more serious than illness. And because of that, suspicions of her retirement story weren’t being accepted as gospel.

“No,” she answered softly, then elaborated in a stronger voice. “I’ll never skate again, but maybe I’ll take up golf instead.” She smiled, refusing to let the two men see her distress.

“We’d ask you to play now,” Tom said. “But we’ve already got a foursome set up. Maybe some other time?”

“I’ll take a rain check,” she said.

“We’ll hold you to it,” Cedric said. “That’s a promise.”

Elora grinned and planted her cane in preparation for moving on.

“Keep an eye out,” Tom warned. “A reporter came sniffing around yesterday asking questions about Elora St. James. He apparently got wind of the fact that Lunenburg is your hometown.”

“Just what I need.” Elora pushed the hair from her face.

“I told him that you were still living in Halifax. I heard tell he tried at a few other places, but nobody’s telling him nothing.” Tom adjusted the cap on his head. “Just be leery of strangers,” he cautioned.

“What did he look like?” Elora asked.

“Big, tall fella,” Tom said.

“And hung with a camera,” Cedric added.

Elora sauntered along the edge of the lake and back to her car. Why was life so complicated? She glanced once more at the driving range. Danny had finished his practice shots. She watched as he wheeled his cart in the direction of the first tee, whimsically known as The Dragon’s Bane.

Had there been a spark of attraction between her and Danny in the pro shop, or had she imagined it? Even if the feeling had been real and mutual, the last thing she needed to complicate her life any further was a man. Hadn’t she told that to Ronnie just this morning? Besides, what man would want her in this condition?

If she couldn’t confide the truth to her friends, she sure as heck couldn’t tell a stranger that she was a deformed and crippled has-been.