Chapter 12

"Regaining health is more difficult an objective then becoming ill. Becoming ill is a random act of ignorance and regaining health is an intentional effort in frustration." Richard Diaz

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Chapter Twelve

After having a little visit with his son, Luke was feeling somewhat positive. Any sort of positive feeling felt very foreign to him. He was so used to feeling low and dejected. But he could see a light at the end of the tunnel ... figuratively, of course. Jamie did not seem to mind, or notice, his disability, and Isabella was going to stand by him.

Luke would move forward. He would push himself no matter how hard it would be. This was his life, and he needed to live it for his family.

After playing soldiers with Jamie for a short while, he was taken away by a maid sent to collect him for his morning tea. His life was so simple and innocent.

While he sat by himself, fiddling with one of Jamie's soldiers in his hand, Luke pondered venturing out into the house for the first time since his return. He had managed to memorise his bedroom; he might as well start to learn the rest of the house.

If Isabella planned on standing by him as he continued to adjust to his new course, he owed it to her to be present in her life as well. He needed to participate in family dinners. He needed to participate in many aspects of his family's social lives. It was not fair to expect them to keep making excuses for him.

He was not the first man to ever be blinded, after all.

Luke was unsure of how long he had remained sitting in his bedroom, but after a while he had conjured the courage to leave his bedroom for the outside world. Luke could imagine that he looked very pale after so long without being outside. He certainly did not feel as firm and solid in his body as he once had. He did miss getting a bit of exercise every day.

Using his memory of the bedroom, Luke navigated his way towards the door. He moved slowly and precisely, but eventually, he found the doorknob.

Before he could turn it himself, his bedroom door was opened from the other side. He had to stagger back to avoid being hit by the door.

He was greeted by the voices of Matthew, Annaliese, and Isabella, all exclaiming and apologising to him.

Luke immediately felt hands on his forearms. Both were small, so he presumed they belonged to Annaliese and Isabella.

"Luke, we have ... news." Matthew's voice sounded strange.

"News?" he repeated. Nobody responded as he was led by Isabella back over to the settee.

There was clear tension in the room, but Luke chose instead to concentrate on the blind faith he had in Isabella. Blind faith, what a joke. But that is what it took to be led by someone. Utter trust. Blind faith.

Luke and Isabella had been married for longer than they had actually spent time together. This blind faith he had in her meant a great deal to him.

"Luke," said Isabella softly as they were seated. Her voice sounded strange as well. She sounded shocked and angry, but frightened at the same time. "What did your doctor in London ever tell you about your condition?" she asked.

Luke was very confused at this sudden turn of events, but nevertheless, he played along. Luke thought back to his time in the London hospital. He remembered great pain, anger, frustration, and suffering. Mary had been there every step of the way to support him. But, now that he thought about it, he could not remember having a direct conversation with his doctor.

"I do not recall ever conversing with my doctor," replied Luke after a moment of reflection. "The nurses seemed to take care of that side of things, I think. Mary conveyed the doctor's diagnoses and care instructions." Or lack thereof, he bitterly thought. The doctor had done all that he could, and Luke appreciated it, but there was not exactly anything that he could advise as to fix Luke.

"Luke, I shall not dance around the issue with you," said Matthew bluntly. "Mary has been lying to you. She had kept some very important information from you."

Luke closed his eyes for a moment. "What did you say?" he whispered. What possible information could she have kept from him? She had told him he was blind and he was blind. It was no secret.

Luke could have sworn that he heard the unfolding of paper.

"Isabella intercepted this letter," began Matthew. "It is addressed to her and it seems as though Mary attempted to conceal it. It is from your doctor in London."

"I wrote to him for advice on how to help you. You were so sad. I was frightened for you," explained Isabella quietly. "He wrote back and ..." she trailed off.

Matthew cleared his throat. "He wrote back confused at why you would be so sad when there was treatment options that you had refused."

The words 'treatment options' were like a knife through his heart. There were none. He had been told that he was blind. Blindness was not curable. There was no treatment. He had been told that there was no treatment.

Mary had told him regretfully that there was no treatment.

"I beg your pardon?" Luke said slowly.

Was he dreaming?

"Tell me quickly and truthfully, did you refuse a surgery that was offered to you?" Matthew asked him seriously.

Luke could not even comprehend the stupidity of that question. Treatment options? Surgery? None of that had been offered to him? All that had been offered to him was a future of darkness!

"I did not refuse any bloody surgery!" exclaimed Luke angrily. "I have never even heard of any miracle bloody surgery! I had surgery to remove the stick of wood from my eye and it left me blind! No other surgery was offered to me."

Isabella gripped onto Luke tightly, even more so than before, and it did comfort him slightly.

"Well then, Mary has lied to you," Matthew said firmly.

Luke's head fell backwards and it rested on the back of the settee. He had a sudden migraine. He felt Isabella's small hand on his forehead as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Luke, there is hope," she whispered.

Hope. How could there be hope? After all this time, how could there be hope? He had spent so long believing that this was his life now.

Mary had helped him adjust to this life in the beginning. That was why he had asked her to stay on as his personal nurse. Mary had kept him sane in the beginning. How could she have lied? He did not understand.

There had been a great deal of silence. Luke's first question was, "But why would Mary lie?"

He had an inkling that this was not the question that Isabella wanted him to ask. He heard her bitterly exhale.

"Because she is in love with you," Isabella muttered.

Luke began to choke on his tongue. "Excuse me?" he spluttered. Luke actually needed Isabella to say that again because he was absolutely certain that he had not heard her correctly.

"Mary is in love with you," Isabella repeated quietly, "and she believes that you reciprocate her feelings."

No, there had to be some other explanation. Mary was not a doctor. Perhaps she had misunderstood the diagnosis. She had always been very kind. That did not mean she was in love with him. "Mary is not in love with me," Luke assured Isabella. "There must be some mistake," he decided. "But what hope do I have? What information have I missed?" It was clear that there had been a great deal of miscommunication. The word 'hope', and the way that Isabella had said it, made him want to be excited. But he could let himself be so. It was too soon.

"Luke," snapped Isabella. She was no longer tender and soft. Luke had clearly irritated her. He tensed. "Mary called me a child, said that you only married me because you thought I was pretty, and that I was lucky that you were blind so that you would not be able to see me when my looks went away. She then proceeded to boast that you fell in love with each other while she cared for you and the only reason as to why you were even in Somerset was because of Jamie. So please, tell me again that she is not in love with you."

Luke could tell by Isabella's tone that she was telling the truth. The angry truth. He was sure that if he could see her that she would have a very hurt expression on her face as well. Some very unkind things had been said to her. Some very cruel things had been said to her, actually. What had Mary been thinking? Could she really be in love with him?

Why?

He had not exactly been his charming self like he had been when trying to woo Isabella. He had been negative, temperamental, sour, and melancholy. It was a miracle that Isabella still wanted to speak to him.

"I need to talk to Mary. She needs to explain herself," Luke instructed, still bewildered.

"I slapped her and then I sacked her so unfortunately you will not be able to have any more private conversations with Mary," seethed Isabella.

Isabella was jealous. Again, why? He had married her. Luke took his marriage vows very seriously. While he may not have been the best husband during these last few months, Luke loved Isabella.

Luke had certainly never meant to give Mary the wrong impression, but she had clearly gone about her feelings the wrong way. She had no right to speak to Isabella that way.

"Isabella, hush, that is not what is important at the moment," Annaliese interjected. "I know that you know what is more important. An unstable nurse need not be our main concern."

"Luke, according to Doctor Harris, here, he has a possible cure for your condition," Matthew explained.

A cure? That seemed too good to be true. "There is no cure for blindness," Luke said sceptically.

"But you are not blind, per se, Luke," replied Matthew. "Your vision loss is a side effect of what Doctor Harris believes to be pressure on your optic nerve."

"My what?" repeated Luke. How could blindness be a side effect? What on earth was an optic nerve? Blindness was blindness, was it not?

"I am not a doctor," said Matthew, "but this man is." Luke heard the movement of the letter in Matthew's hand. "He is proposing an operation that could cure you. Of course, there are risks, but I do think we ought to take a trip to London to speak to this man. What do you think?"

What did he think? Luke did not know what to think. He had been offered an awful lot of information in the last few minutes.

A cure? Could this be possible? Luke did not know what an optic nerve was or ... anything about the medical profession really ... but he was very interested in listening to what his doctor had to say.

Before Luke could accept his brother's offer, the bedroom door opened abruptly.

"Mama, Papa!" exclaimed William. Luke was suddenly very alert, and he could feel the sudden stress in the room.

"Whatever is the matter, William?" asked Annaliese worriedly.

"Mary pushed Georgiana into the kitchen counter and Georgiana hit her head and now she is lying on the floor asleep!" William shouted, sounding very panicked.

Luke could not see it, but he was almost certain that his brother had hurdled over the settee and sprinted for the door. Annaliese was quick to follow him.

"I shall be right back," said Isabella. "Mary should not be down there and Jamie is with his cousins."

Isabella swiftly left the room as well.

What on earth had happened to Mary? She had been so attentive and kind. She had put up with his moods for months! Now suddenly she was shouting horrid things at his wife and harming children!

His bedroom door opened again.

"Isabella," he called. "How is Georgiana?"

"The little madam will be fine."

It was not Isabella. It was Mary.

"Mary," Luke said slowly, rising to his feet, "what are you doing in here?"

"Papa," chirped Jamie, his voice coming from the same direction as Mary's.

Luke's heart stopped. He felt all the blood drain from his face. Mary had Jamie. An unstable, seemingly insane woman was holding his son.

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Bloody hell, this woman is a nutcase :P

So, what's been happening for the last six or so days? Let me catch you up on my uber exciting life :P A week an a half a go I posted a picture on Instagram of all this fruit I cut up for my kids at netball training because I was sick of them coming to train while snacking on chips and other crap. Long story short, they hoovered it. They asked for another container of fruit for this week's training and once again, they ate it all so that's good :) I've also learned how to cut up fruit so I guess that's an essential life skill. My mum always does it for me because I mangle everything. Cantaloupe hates me. But I've learned now, so yay 21 year old me! I usually eat fruit that I can't hack to death like apples and grapes lol.

Ummm... I've been giving my brother semi-illegal driving lessons. I'm such a rebel. In Australia, learners have to have 120 hours of supervised driving practice before they can go for their P's (probationary license) when you turn 18. I'm on my green P's still. (Red P's are for your first year, and green P's are for the next three years before you're allowed a full license). Anyways, you can't give a driving lesson when you're still on your P's. But my brother wants to practice in a manual car before he goes for his license and my mum's new car is an auto so basically he's been driving me on my short distance errands :P

I now know what my mum experienced when I was driving her. The first time he drove me he was doing 50 km/hr up my street (that's the speed limit but it felt like he was doing 100) and I'm screaming slow down! I'm a hypocrite because I speed down my street :P

I also drove an automatic car for the first time since I was 15. My dad gave me a lesson before I got my learner's in an auto that first time. Ever since I've only ever driven manual. But I wanted to drive my mum's car to see what it was like. It was so weird!! I was like, what do I even do with my left foot if it's not on the clutch. It's just sitting there enjoying the ride. I prefer manual lol.

I also babysat one of my little girls and her two younger siblings last night. I was heating up their dinner and a glass pot lid shattered in the microwave (I don't cook very often :P) and they're all going "You need a smack on the bottom!". Cheeky kiddos. Anyways, I eventually put dinner in front of them and then I proceeded to get out my deck of cards to teach them a few games. I first taught them "Spoons". I don't know if you guys know this, but this is a game we used to play a lot when we were camping. They loved that. I seriously thought I was going to have to let them win but they were actually beating me! The 7 year old brother then told me he wanted to verse me in Spit. I love this game, or any card game that requires speed, like Hawaii. Again, I thought I was going to have to take it easy on him, but this 7 year old boy was totally beating me!

I'm babysitting again next Tuesday so they want me to teach them how to play Bullshit. Of course I called it "Cheat" which is what it's called when you play with kids, but there was many a night when we were all camping when 10 teenagers were spontaneously shouting out "Bullshit!" at the top of their lungs lol.

Okay, that's about it from me :P I will update on Sunday, my one day off, yay!!

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