Pitch Imperfect(80)
Rob let out a slow breath. “That’s why you disappeared for so long.”
“Chloe was everything a mother could dream of. She had the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen and when she laughed it was like the sound of sunshine. I used to hold her little body right here,” she said, placing her palm under her breast. “She would fall asleep in my arms while I sang to her, nestling into me like a little bird.”
Rob looked at her intently. “But it wasn’t enough.”
Anjuli shut her eyes against the pain. “I loved her, but I missed performing and sometimes I felt trapped by motherhood. How awful is that? I was bored being a stay-at-hideout-in-France mother. My agent phoned one day and suggested a comeback tour in America and I agreed. The road is no place for an eight-month-old baby so I hired a nanny. I thought nothing could go wrong in four weeks. Blandine was highly qualified, from a local agency, with excellent references. After she’d been with us for two weeks I went on tour.” The next words came out in a whisper. “Chloe was asleep when I kissed her goodbye.”
Rob looked as if he would say something, but mercifully, he didn’t. One word, one touch, one look and she wouldn’t be able to continue, and she had to. She needed to make him understand what kind of person she was.
“I sang all across America, L.A., Vegas, Houston, New Orleans and finally, New York. I was so happy to be singing again, I was walking on a cloud. But as the weeks passed I missed Chloe so much it hurt. I realised that I wanted to sing, but not if it meant being without her. We would find a way to make it work. A lot of other celebrities kept their families safe from prying eyes while they worked, and so would I.
“The last concert was at Carnegie Hall, and it was jam-packed. I phoned home while my supporting act played a set and Blandine told me that Chloe was feverish. I didn’t worry too much. She was teething and often had little fevers because of it. I told her to give Chloe a spoonful of Calpol and put her to bed. At the end of the performance I was going to phone and check on her. But then they asked me for encore after encore. For my final song I gave them ‘The Heart Loves But One,’ my biggest hit, and the crowd went wild. Nobody knew that I sang for Chloe.”
Anjuli looked out at barely visible moors, dark mounds in the distance. “She died while I was singing. The fever had made her fractious and she must have turned and got tangled in her bedding. She...she suffocated to death.”
Tears streamed down Anjuli’s face but she didn’t notice, seeing instead the backstage dressing room and hearing Blandine’s hysterical voice, telling her that Chloe wouldn’t wake up, that the ambulance had come but she wasn’t responding. That she was dead.
“If I had phoned like I was supposed to Blandine would have checked on her earlier and Chloe would be alive. I made a terrible, selfish mistake and Chloe paid for it with her life. That’s why I’ll never be able to sing again. Why I can’t—” She hugged her arms and shuddered.
Rob had come to a stand behind her, his heat against her shivering back. Gently, he turned her around and cupped her chin with a firm, warm hand. “When Jamie died I blamed myself. His passing screwed with Ben’s head even more and yet we’re no’ the ones bought him drugs. We’re the ones who didn’t notice we were losing him, the ones who didn’t act when we should have. And now we can’t change the fact that he’s gone. That’s something I’ll take to my grave.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “But you couldn’t have predicted what happened that night and that’s the truth. You may have been told this before and I don’t give a damn if you have. I’m telling you now and you’re going to listen, lass, because I would never lie to you.”
Anjuli stared at him, half defiant, half hopeful. “You don’t know how it feels...”
“Aye, but I know one thing. Even if you had phoned your nanny the same thing would have happened, three, ten, twenty minutes later. On tour or not. Had you been home would you have spent the entire night, watching your daughter sleep?”
“I would have been there and—”
“And you would have been asleep, too. Or hadn’t you slept through her fractious nights before?”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “But I could have prevented what happened. I might have—”
“Fuck, Anjuli, are you omniscient? If so, then thanks for warning me about Jamie.” He gave her shoulders a tiny shake. “Who’s going to die tonight because you haven’t phoned? Ash, maybe? Or Mrs. Wilson? She’s been ticking along for years, outliving all her GPs. I understand your father’s triple bypass last year went well, but you’d better get on that phone just in case.”