Mary Higgins Clark - 1994 - Remember Me by Mary Higgins Clark

Author:Mary Higgins Clark [Clark, Mary Higgins]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 48

Menley’s frantic search of the downstairs rooms had not revealed where Bobby’s voice was coming from. Finally Hannah’s wails had penetrated her consciousness, and she had made her way back to the nursery. By then Hannah’s sobs had become gulping hiccups.

“Oh, sweet baby,” Menley had murmured, shocked into awareness that Hannah had been crying for a long time. She had picked up her daughter, wrapped the covers around her and dropped onto the bed opposite the crib.

Crawling under the quilt, she had slid her shoulder strap down and put the baby’s lips to her breast. She had not been able to nurse, but her breast pulsated as the tiny lips sucked at her nipple. Finally the hiccups had subsided, and Hannah had slept contentedly in her arms.

She wanted to keep the baby with her, but exhaustion was a cloud that pushed Menley into a stuporlike state. As she had done a few days ago, she placed a pillow in the cradle, laid Hannah on it, tucked the blankets around her, and fell into a dead sleep herself, her hand on the cradle, one tiny finger encircling her thumb.

***

The ringing of the phone woke her at eight o’clock. Hannah was still asleep, she noted, as she rushed to the master bedroom to answer it.

It was Adam.

“Don’t tell me you and Hannah are still in bed? How come she never sleeps late for me?”

He was joking. Menley knew it. The tone of his voice was amused and affectionate. Then why was she so quick to look for a double meaning in everything he said?

“You always bragged about the fresh ocean air,” she said. “Looks as though Hannah has started to believe you.” She thought about the dinner. “Adam, I had a lovely time last night.”

“Oh, I’m glad. I was afraid to ask.”

Just as I suspected, Menley thought.

“Anyone else there besides you and Elaine and John?”

“Scott Covey.”

“That was nice. I told him in no uncertain terms that I needed to be able to reach him. Did he talk about the search?”

“Only that it was intrusive but not worrisome.”

“Good. How are you doing, honey?”

I’m doing just fine, Menley thought. I imagined I heard a train roar through this house. I imagined I heard my dead child calling me. And I let Hannah scream for half an hour while I searched for him.

“Fine,” she said.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re holding something back?”

“Because you’re a good lawyer, trained to look for hidden meanings.”

She forced a laugh.

“No episodes?”

“I said I’m fine.” She tried not to sound irritated or panicky.

Adam could always see through her. She tried to change the subject.

“Dinner really was pleasant, but Adam, whenever John utters the words, ‘That reminds me of a story,’ run for the hills. He does go on and on.”

Adam chuckled. “’Laine must be in love. Otherwise she wouldn’t put up with it. The airport at five?”

“I’ll be there.”

***

After Hannah had been bathed and fed and was temporarily content in the keeping-room playpen, Menley called the psychiatrist in New York who was treating her for post-traumatic stress disorder.

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