All Tomorrow's Parties (24 page)

She had no idea how long she had lain there, it was still night but an eerie silence seemed to have descended. The storm had rumbled away. In the distance, a few claps of thunder with the occasional flash of lightning now dimly lighting the room sporadically. Tony invaded her thoughts; she was desperate to know if he was OK. The image of him slumped across the table played over and over in her mind. Karenna had smashed her world. Her mind could not hold a thought for too long. Her senses heightened, she heard the floorboards creak and could make out a change in the shades of darkness in the room. Someone was there.

“Laine are you in here? It’s OK, she’s gone, the police are here, it’s OK Laine…” She recognised Andy’s voice immediately.

Tony Fairfax Black died on June 14th 1984 from a direct stab wound to the heart, he was 35 years old.

13

SIX MONTHS LATER

Art was asleep; it had seemed as if this was the first time he had slept in a week. Laine stared into his beautiful woody hazel eyes; he looked so much like Tony there were times that she felt overwhelmed with sadness. He would never know his father, yet she was blessed that she had his beautiful child to love.

John kissed her neck as she lay staring at her son peacefully sleeping in his Moses basket. “He sure is beautiful Missy”, he said softly. “Yes he is”, she smiled. It was a smile tinged with sadness, but thankful that her life was now finding its forever path.

Shortly after Tony’s death, Ella had phoned John. She had only ever dared write until then, but now as a matter of urgency he needed to come.

Andy and Chris never spoke of what had happened to Karenna. The police found her contorted body on the pavement outside the house in Delancey Street. Her hand that held the knife was charred and blackened, her flesh appeared to have melted around its handle. Forensics said she appeared to have been struck by lightning.

Laine had gone to stay with Ella and Andy. Two days later John had arrived. Ella had paid for his ticket. Laine had a hard time reconciling the fact that Ella had known all along where and how to contact him, but she realised that sometimes you had to let people take their own journeys. John had got a special leave of absence from the army and had stayed with her for two weeks. He had requested a return to Aviano air base, which had been granted two months later.

He had held her so close since then, not once wanting to let her go. Laine had been four months pregnant when Tony had died. Neither Laine or Tony had known.

Arthur Antony Black was been born on December 21
st
1984 in Venice Italy. On the day of his birth Laine made Art a promise to seize every opportunity life would throw their way, filling his days with love and laughter. She vowed no day would be viewed with regret. Some days held more darkness than others as she tried to come to terms with what had happened. At times she pondered whether or not her coming into Tony’s life had caused his death. Had her thoughts and feelings for John somehow made it happen? She felt as if she were just a visitor on earth and not really part of it.

At times she seemed to be on a very slow moving surreal carousel from which she could not jump off.

John sat and listened as she theorised and tried to comprehend the scale of what had happened. His Christian upbringing told him that most things in life were non-negotiable. “Everyone has a day and a time”, he had said philosophically, but he knew these words nowhere near covered the enormity of Laine’s soul-searching.

Christmas was bitter sweet. Kayla and Zaltana, John’s girls, had come to visit. Laine had immediately fallen in love with the girls and they with her and Art. They were miniature versions of John; she could see his beauty shining through them. Looking back, it had been a happy day, thought Laine as she gently stroked Art’s head as he lay asleep in his crib. For most of the time they had been with her she had been working on automatic. The daily essentials of cooking and looking after the girls somehow had been doable; she had managed to distance that life from the pain of her actual life.

It was now February and the season’s snow was heavy. Bright winter sunshine lit the house. Snow was beginning to fall again, big heavy flakes making the brightness of the day sparkle.

Could she be happy? Was the chaos of the last few years bidding adieu? She put her hand on her stomach; she knew she was pregnant again. Life was precious. She would embrace every day regardless of what it held.

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