The Viscount – Chapter Fifteen

THE VISCOUNT OF MAISONS LAFFITTE

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The scene repeated itself. There stood the Mediterranean-looking man, who went by the name of Etienne, standing by the stone wall that overlooked the Seine. But this time it was a different wall, a different part of the Seine. He stood in the bright sunlight, and having finished his cigarette, tossed it below onto the cobblestone walkway that directly bordered the river.

He looked around impatiently, and at this cue, Jean didn’t waste any time jogging across the street to join him. “You kept me waiting,” was all the man said.

“I’m sorry. There was a delay in the train schedule,” he lied. “So do you have news on the buyer?”

“Yes, I am in touch with him. Come let’s walk,” he commanded, and surged forward without waiting for an answer. “The buyer is a Russian, and he will be ready to receive the package when his cargo ship has been reloaded and is ready to return. That’s going to be sometime towards the end of April. I’ve got the driver in place, but you need to let me know now if you’re sure of your end of the deal?”

“I’m getting there, and I will be ready by then,” Jean quickly reassured him. “I’m securing two points of entry to be able to come and go without detection. All that’s left is for me to choose the right moment when its occupants will be fully distracted.”

“The place is more fully guarded than it was twenty-five years ago,” Etienne warned. “I hope you have better plans in place than to think it’s nothing more than breaking a window or picking a lock. If that were the case, I would use one of my own men.”

Gaining confidence, Jean shook his head. “It’s all about relationships and I have two in place that will allow me to gain access when I need it.”

Etienne dodged some tourists and walked back next to Jean before saying, “I’ll need to have more details before long to make sure there aren’t any screw-ups.”

“As soon as I get a few more items in place – namely when it’s going to happen – I will let you know everything.”

“Alright I’ll be counting on that.” Etienne nodded in Jean’s direction before taking abrupt leave of him again. But this time Jean felt less disconcerted by the encounter this time around. It didn’t matter how much more cunning or dangerous Etienne was. He knew that he had something Etienne did not have … the map.

* * *

Chastity fluttered around the hospital room, picking dead leaves off the plant that had been brought in by Maude, tucking the teddy bear sent by her parents next to her son’s arm, only to remove it and put it back next to the window where he would see it when he opened his eyes. She walked back to his side and sat down, kissing his cheek and then holding his hand.

“Hi baby,” she murmured. “Well. Now that the room is in order, shall we continue with our story of Harry Potter?”

But she didn’t pull out the book right away. In the week that her son had been in a coma, she hadn’t left his side except to shower. She knew that French law would permit her to extend her paid leave of absence because her son was gravely injured, but she was beginning to accept that her son might be in this state for some time. And then what would she do? She had no family here, and she couldn’t imagine ever leaving him to go back to work. But if his coma were of long duration, she would have to.

Oooh! I can’t think about that just now!  

Mr de Chabot – Docteur de Chabot had been in every day since the accident, and – almost without realizing it – she had begun to look forward to his visits. He always spared those few extra minutes after examining Thomas to provide reassurance. It was very subtle. He would let drop a comment that the body used the coma to allow itself to heal, and it was by no means a sign that he wouldn’t wake up. Or he would tell her of a case he handled a few years back where the child was hit in exactly the same way as Thomas, and how the end-result had been better than anyone had hoped for. She would have been hard-put upon to explain exactly why, but her spirits were always lifted by the time he left.

“Bonjour Madame.” A handsome young man with a large smile walked into the room. He came over and shook her hand, speaking in perfect English. “I am an intern in this hospital, and my name is Christian Okonkwo. Docteur de Chabot charged me with keeping a special eye on your son.” His broad smile caused her own to appear.

“Are you studying to be a neurosurgeon too then?” she asked.

“It’s my plan,” he replied. “This is my sub-internship so it’s not too late to decide on a different specialty, but if I can get a residency here, this is the field I would choose.”

“You’re not French,” Chastity observed.

“No. I’m Nigerian. But I was studying in Cambridge with Docteur de Chabot’s niece, and she made the introductions that allowed me to intern here.”

“Oh, that was kind of Docteur de Chabot,” she said politely. “You must be fluent in French then.”

“Yes, I went to the Lycée Français in Lagos.”

“And I went to the Lycée Français in New York.” Chastity smiled. “I guess learning to be fluent in French has its uses after all.

The intern went over to Thomas and checked the catheter and the stitches, making notes in the patient’s file. “Has he shown any movement that is new?” he asked.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “He sometimes jerks suddenly, but he did that right from the beginning. And the doctor said that it’s not necessarily a sign of awareness.

“That’s tr—” The intern was interrupted.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle.” The Viscount strode into the room and clasped Chastity’s hand warmly, before shaking the intern’s. “Christian.”

“So you were able to come earlier than expected,” the intern observed.

“Yes. My estate manager is quickly getting up to speed and I am able to extricate myself more easily these days.” The Viscount smiled at Chastity as he said this. “So, you’ve been introduced to our intern then.”

“I have.”

“Has he reviewed your son’s progress with you?” His eyes rested on hers for a minute before he looked down to study the patient’s chart.

The intern spoke up. “We were just going through them. No new movement. His ICP level is down to sixteen.” He turned to Chastity, “This is good news, Mademoiselle. It’s within the normal range.”

“So it was the right decision to avoid the craniectemy then?” She looked back and forth between the two of them, but it was The Viscount who answered.

“It was a risk, but one worth taking. If his intra-cranial pressure had gone higher than twenty at any point, we would have rushed him into emergency surgery. I’m very glad it did not because that can engender other issues, even if it can also save a patient’s life. All in all, I would say that, given the circumstances, we had the best possible outcome. And now we need to keep waiting. Patiently — ” he added. He smiled and turned to the intern. “Christian have you done rounds with Docteur Bellamy yet?”

“Yes, I have but I wanted to come and meet Thomas as you suggested,” he answered innocently.

“I’m glad you did.” The Viscount turned to Chastity, “I asked Christian to start checking in on you regularly to see how you’re doing; that way he can keep me in the loop. I’ll be off after this week because the in-house doctor is returning from his conference.” He added, “I’ll still be coming in to check on Thomas, though.”

She smiled softly at him. “Thank you.”

The Viscount gestured to the intern, and turned towards the door. “Shall we?” The intern nodded his assent and gave his hand to Chastity, saying, “I will come as often as I can, and you can have me paged if you want to reach the Docteur.”

As soon as they left, it felt to Chastity as if the room was closing in. She walked over to the window and looked out over the parking lot. The grey winter weather gave off a feeling of late afternoon rather than mid-morning. She didn’t dare to call and ask, but she hoped that Maude, or even Elizabeth, would come and visit her. She felt so lonely. Completely forgetting her plans to read to Thomas, she stared forlornly out the window, and watched as tiny snowflakes began falling. Tiny, desolate snowflakes that tainted an icy world with bleakness.

Chastity smelled freshly-ground coffee and turned around, quickly brushing away the tears that had pooled in her eyes, but had not fallen. The Viscount had come in again quietly, carrying two porcelain cups. He looked a little uncertain. “The coffee here is awful,” he said with a tentative smile, “but we have a machine in the back that’s a little better.” And in timing that could not have been more auspicious, as soon as the words left his mouth, the sun pierced through part of the clouds and brightened the room.

She smiled up at him, but felt the tears threatening to form again just from this sweet gesture. She almost didn’t trust herself to speak, but managed a “Thank you.” After he handed her a coffee, he stood there awkwardly with his own cup until she gathered her wits and asked him to sit down.

“I wasn’t sure if you took sugar,” he said.

“Actually, I usually take sugar and milk,” she answered, rolling her eyes with a grin. “Sacrilege for a French person, I know. But the plain coffee is actually better in the machine here so I’m getting accustomed to it without milk.”

There was a silence that was not uncomfortable as each one took a sip of coffee. “Please,” she finally said. “Tell me how you came to be a neurosurgeon.” Her voice squeaked a bit on the last word, which made her blush. The Viscount had nothing to set his cup on, and was sitting in a folding chair, but he still managed to look elegant. However, his whole face lit up with boyish charm and he began speaking as he leaned forward.

“My first wife – she died when she was young – was very interested in medicine from a young age. We sort of grew up together, you know? We went to the same bilingual school in St Germain-en-Laye, and even after my family moved to Maisons Laffitte, I continued to go there. We were best friends before we even thought about a romantic relationship. And she was definitely the one who influenced me to choose medicine.”

“She was really smart, you see. And I have a competitive nature. If she was going to do something, I was going to do it better.” He chuckled – “although I rarely succeeded. She was focused completely on medicine and wanted to work in South America in one of the poorer communities. At the time, I thought it was what I wanted to do as well. But …” The Viscount stood up slightly and reached over to set his cup on the windowsill before resuming his place. “We married very young, and by the time we were medical residents, my wife got pregnant with Camille and she died as a result of childbirth. So I continued in the medical field alone.”

Chastity’s scanned his face compassionately. She took another sip of coffee before asking, “What happened to Camille while you finished studying and started working?”

“My sister Adelaide and my niece Sylvie spent a lot of time with Camille, and I had a live-in nanny, of course. But I spent every minute that I wasn’t working with him.”

Chastity nodded her head, as she processed this. She asked, “How did you choose neurosurgery?”

“Well, part of it was chance. I happened to secure an internship in the field. But I was drawn to neurosurgery – probably because my father died of a stroke. Although … if we’re going to go with that reasoning, I should be in obstetrics to save future husbands from becoming widowers.” He laughed without humor. “The psychologists would be able to explain it all, I’m sure.”

“Well, it does seem logical enough,” she responded gently. “You want to help.” She finished the last bit of her coffee, and held it in her lap. And then she took a deep breath before saying, “I just wanted to say thank you – for treating Thomas so gently, and for taking the time to explain things to me. I think that somehow … it kept the panic at bay. It kept me from going over the edge.” She didn’t dare to say anything else, but smiled at him, bravely, through the lump in her throat.

The Viscount didn’t feel the need to brush off her thanks the way he usually did. He smiled back at her and watched as a curl fell forward, framing her face. “You looked like you needed a friend,” was all he said.

After he had gathered up the espresso cups with a promise to see her tomorrow, she went back over to the window and looked out. The sun had disappeared again, but the weather seemed less sinister. The snowflakes fell playfully, darting suddenly to one side in a gust of wind. She took in a deep breath, and with it – strength.

As she turned to her, she felt hopeful for the first time, even though there had been no change in his condition. “Tommy,” she said playfully, kissing him very gently on the nose, “let’s read Harry Potter.”

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