Price of love

by Rachel Lindsay

  Debbie left for Nice within an hour of Paula arriving at the hospital and, watching her wave them goodbye from the back of the car taking her to the airport, Paula felt Donald's misery as strongly as her own.

  ' She won't come back to Marsden,' he said as the car disappeared from sight and they walked back into the hospital. ' Once her mother's got hold of her'

  ' Don't be ridiculous,' Paula said sharply. ' Debbie's already broken free. Going back to the villa won't do her any harm now. The minute her father's out of danger she'll be back.'

  'With Jason?'

  Paula stopped and looked at Donald. ' That wasn't a casual question, was it?'

  ' No.' His thin, lined face looked even more unhappy. 'I've gathered from a few things that Debbie let drop that you and Jason aren't hitting it off.'

  ' He hasn't been close enough to hit for weeks I' she said drily. 'It's my fault. Donald. He thinks my work here is more important than he is.'

  ' He's right.'

  She drew a deep breath. ' Maybe he was,' she conceded, '

  but not any more.' She leaned against the wall, pushing back a strand of amber hair that had fallen over her forehead. 'It's funny how you can go on for months and then suddenly—like coming out of a dream—you wake up and see tilings differently. Last night when Jason didn't come home, I suddenly saw what my life would be like without him.' She shivered. 'It's a horrible thought, Donald, and one I couldn't face.'

  ' What are you going to do about it?'

  ' Change myself.' She stood away from the wall. ' All the time I've been asking Jason to change, but I've not been willing to do any changing myself. I've

  been self-centred and conceited, putting my work before everything else.'

  'Hey!' Donald protested. 'You might not be a hundred per cent right in the way you've acted, but you're not a hundred per cent wrong either.'

  She smiled ruefully. ' You're right, I suppose, but I never seem able to do things by halves.'

  ' Does Jason know all this?'

  I No. I haven't had a chance to tell him yet. I was going to do so today.'

  " He'll be very pleased.'

  'I hope so,' Paula said. 'I can't wait for him to get back.'

  ' You don't need to,' Donald said quietly. 'If you meant everything you've just said to me, Paula, why don't you prove it by flying out to be with him now?'

  She hesitated. 'I don't think be wants me there.'

  'If he still loves you, he's certain to want you with him.'

  Paula kept silent, reluctant to tell Donald that she had already offered to go to Jason and had the offer refused,

  ' Well?' Donald said again. ' Why don't you fly to Nice?'

  'I'd rather wait for him to come back.'

  With a muttered exclamation, Donald walked off and, gathering her pride about her—it was all she seemed to nave at the moment—Paula continued on her way. Jason telephoned her again late mat evening to say that his father's condition had been diagnosed as a coronary thrombosis and that a well-known heart specialist had arrived from London to see him. 'If he gets through the next forty-eight hours he'll stand a chance of pulling through,' Jason said, and then gave an abrupt Laugh. ■

  But I don't need to tell you all this, Paula, you know it yourself.' There was nothing she could say to this and again an offer to go and see him trembled on her lips. '

  You'd better not expect me back host yet,' he interrupted her thoughts. 'I won't feel happy leaving until I know definitely one way or the other'.'

  'I understand,' she said, ' but call me, Jason. I'm always here.'

  ' Of course,' he said politely, and put down the telephone. Jason kept his promise and telephoned her again two days later. His father was still holding his own and the specialist was returning to see him again at the weekend. Another call from Jason on Monday reported that his father was considerably better. "The attack had not been as bad as had first been thought and the specialist felt that with proper care and rest the patient would recover completely.

  ' You can tell Donald to expect Debbie back tomorrow'

  Jason went on.

  'What about you?' Paula asked.

  'I'm not sure. Mother's ill at the moment and I'd like to hang on.'

  ' What's the matter with her?'

  ' Shock, I think. She's just gone to pieces. She won't even leave the villa alone. Either Debbie or I have to be with her the whole time.'

  Paula found it difficult to credit that her mother-in-law's condition could have been caused by shock. It was far more likely due to Mrs Scott's determination to keep Jason at the villa as long as possible. However, to say so at this precise moment would do more harm than good and, with an effort, Paula held her tongue.

  'It's lonely without you here' she said softly into the receiver. 'I miss you, Jason.'

  ' Then my being away is a good thing. Maybe I should stay away longer!'

  ' Oh, darling, don't tease me. There's so much I want to say to you.'

  'What about?'

  ' Not on the telephone' she said shakily. 'I'd rather wait until you're here.'

  The feeling of unease that had begun with his telling her he wished to remain a few days longer with his mother increased as the days passed and Jason made no further mention of bis return, and she herself was the one who finally referred to it. ' You can't stay on at the villa for ever. After all, if anyone should stay with your mother, surely it's Debbie?'

  ' Mother and Debbie have never got on, and now that she's going to marry Donald it's even worse'

  'Who's running the factory while you're away?' she parried. ' The manager'

  'It should be you. Now that your father's ill you've got a chance to prove yourself. If you explained that top'our mother I'm sure she'd understand'

  It isn't a question of her understanding, Paula. She's ill and she needs me.' ' So do I'

  ' Because you miss me, or because you don't like me being here?'

  Tears of anger welled into Paula's eyes and she found it difficult to speak. ' Goodbye, Jason,' she said, and replaced the receiver.

  Afterwards, Paula regretted her action, wondering whether Jason would misconstrue it as one of anger rather than hurt. He did not call ber the next day, nor the next, and a week passed before she heard from him again. This time she was careful in what she said, making no reference to his return and confining herself only to his father's health. It seemed difficult to believe that they had so little to say to each other. Perhaps it was because there was so much to say . . .

  More than a month had passed since she had seen Jason and she began to feel she had never been married. Once more she went to bed alone and got up alone. Once again emergency calls and unpaid overtime was a routine instead of a duel of loyalty. Her off-duty hours hung heavy on her hands, and though she could have occupied herself with visits to the manor house they had bought, she could not bear to go there without Jason. And, apart from an occasional call to the architect supervising the alterations, and the decorator who was in charge of the furnishings, she put it out of her mind.

  Neither Debbie nor Donald referred to Jason's absence and this too created a barrier, making it impossible for her to be with them without feeling embarrassed. Obviously Debbie had a loyalty towards her brother, &nd if she could not say anything good about him was determined not to say anything bad. Donald, a natural peacemaker, was intent on keeping the status quo, all of which led to the conversation between them being trivial and meaningless. This naturally threw her back on to Martin and she found herself seeing him more and more frequently. One night, six weeks after Jason's departure, Martin took her back to the bungalow and she invited him in for coffee.

  It was the first time he had been in the house since the night after her marriage, and she could not help noticing how easily he settled in to the living-room, sitting back in an armchair and smoking his pipe as if be were in fact in his own home. Two hours after he arrived they were still talking together and they might have happily continued if the sound of an
ambulance bell had not broken through their absorption.

  ' You always get me talking shop,' Martin said wryly, as he stretched himself and stood up.

  'It's the one thing that's never boring,' she apologized, '

  and of course it's made me forget to offer you the coffee you came in for.' She moved to the door. "Stay a bit longer and I'll make you some.'

  She returned a few moments later with coffee and biscuits, apologizing for the poor selection. 'I've got 'out of the habit of keeping house since Jason's been away.'

  'I don't see you as a housekeeper.'

  His words conjured up a similar remark Jason had once made and she turned her head quickly to hide her tears. But Martin had seen them and she heard him move towards her, and then felt his hand on her 'Shoulder.

  ' Why isn't be here with you, Paula? He can't still be staying with his father.'

  ' His mother's ill,' she replied with expression. ' An acute case of hypochondria brought on by her determination to keep Jason with her for as long as possible I'

  'And he's falling for it?'

  She shrugged. 'It seems so.'

  ' How much longer are you going to go on like this?' His question made her swing round, and he bent forward and stared into her face. ' Have you taken a good look at yourself, Paula? There are shadows under your eyes and no colour in your cheeks. You look more like a widow than a wife of six months.'

  'It's my own fault. I never realized how much I missed Jason—how much I needed him—until he went away.'

  ' Then why the hell don't you tell him?'

  'I've been waiting for him to come home.' She began to cry, and through a blur of tears saw Martin pale. 'I'm sorry,'

  she said, and cried even harder. 'I don't know what's come over me.'

  'My dear I I'm so sorry.' His arms came round her and she rested her head on his shoulder. 'I'd no idea you still felt this way about him. I was hoping it was over between you.'

  'It's worse,' she sobbed. 'With Jason gone I feel only half a person.'

  ' Why?' he said. 'What has he got—what is there about him . . .' But she could not answer, could not put into words all the intangibles that—when put together—added up to one particular and special man.

  ' Paula, don't.' Martin rocked her gently. 'I can't bear to see you like this. If only there was something I could do.'

  ' There isn't.' She wiped her eyes, and raising her bead put her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. ' Dear Martin.'

  ' Don't let me interrupt I' a dry, cold voice said behind her. With a cry, Paula swung round to see Jason standing in the doorway. She moved towards him, but he drew back sharply. ' Don't bother with the act, Paula. It isn't necessary.'

  Unsure of his meaning, she stopped. 'What's wrong?'

  'Do you need to ask?' The blue eyes, cold as ice, passed over her to rest on Martin, and suddenly she knew what he was thinking. 'Jason, nol'

  Paula, yes I he mocked, and then focused his atten tion on the man behind her. 'I might have known it wouldn't take you long to step into my place. Or was it because I'd stepped into yours?'

  ' Scott, listen to me,' Martin said urgently. ' Don't say anything you'll regret. There's a very simple explanation for all this.'

  'I'm sure there is! Unfortunately, no explanation will satisfy me any more. You and Paula were made for each other. The only mistake I made was in not realizing it.'

  Unable to bear any more, Paula ran over to him.

  'Jason, please—listen to me! You don't understand. I've missed yon so much I'

  'Found comfort in Edgar's arms?'

  'That isn't true! 'I love you.'

  'Tell it to my solicitors,' he retorted. ' As far as I'm concerned I never want to see you again.' He turned on his heel and she followed him into the hall, clinging to his arm.

  ' Jason 'You can't go like this. I'm your wife. Doesn't that mean anything ?'

  'Not for a long time,' he said, and spoke with a quietness that hurt her far more than anger. ' We're finished, Paula. I don't need you any more.'

  The front door closed behind him and she remained in the hall, staring into the darkness and seeing the dark future that stretched ahead of her.

  CHAPTER X

  Paula's misery when Jason had been in France was nothing compared with the anguish of knowing she had lost him completely. Why had he walked in on her, without warning, at that one moment in the weeks of separation when she had given way to her longing for turn?

  Day after day, as she waited for him to come back again, she re-lived that moment a thousand times, praying for the chance to explain—and knowing that it would take every ounce of her ability to convince him that Martin bad meant nothing to her that night except a voice to fill the silence; the classic friendly shoulder for the neglected wife to cry on.

  Jason had to believe her. Their love could not end because of a stupid misunderstanding. But the days passed without a word. Time and again she picked up the telephone to call him at the office or the factory, or the villa, but always she put it down; Jason must call her. This time she had nothing for which to apologize. In an effort not to think of him, she concentrated on her work, but the longer the hours, the less satisfaction she found in it. Bitterly she acknowledged the change in herself. No longer was she an unawakened girl grieving for a boyfriend; now she was a woman longing for her husband—a wife with needs that her husband had aroused and only her husband could satisfy. Not work . . . not another man . . . only Jason.

  It was difficult for Paula to look at Martin without seeing him as the unwitting cause of her unhappiness. Fairness insisted that she should not blame him, yet it was impossible to shake off the suspicion that since the break had come, Martin was not upset at being the cause of it. And in a way it was his fault. Being Martin—sweet, reliable, undemanding Martin—always around and always underfoot, she had come to depend on him too much. No wonder Jason had resented him: she was beginning to resent him herself. " He asks to

  be hart," she thought, and wished he would not constantly remind her of that awful moment when Jason had found them together. Once, he had known instinctively how she was feeling, now his intuition seemed to have deserted him, and time and again it took all the control she had not to make sharp retort at his concern for her well-being.

  "What if I do look pale," she wanted to explode at him, " is it any business of yours? What if there are circles under my eyes, do you expect me to sleep well in an empty bed?" Yet though she did not make these remarks, she hated herself for thinking them, and the effort to keep her tongue in check made it difficult for her to talk to him about anything except work.

  ' What's the matter, Paula?' he asked one morning when she tried to slip from his side immediately they left Men's Surgical after completing an examination. ' You used to be interested in my cases. Now you make me feel it's an imposition to ask for your assistance.'

  ' That's absurd I It's always a privilege to work with you.'

  ' Don't mouth empty phrases at me.'

  She glanced at her watch, longing to escape him. 'If this is a lecture, make it quick. I've a lot to get through.'

  ' So have I. But I've still time to worry about you.'

  ' There's no need.' She went to move away, but he stepped in front of her.

  ' Why are you avoiding me, Paula? You can't blame me because of the way Jason's behaved. If he had any trust in you he wouldn't have rushed off like a madman!'

  Unwilling to argue, she pushed past him. The floor seemed to rise up and hit her and she leaned against the wall to prevent herself falling.

  'What's the matter?' Martin's voice reached her from a long way off; his face, broken into a dozen prisms, looming hazily above her.

  ' Nothing. It's all right ..." She fought down a wave of nausea and the rising terror that accompanied it. This couldn't be happening to her, whatever the

  tests said. They were wrong. They had to be wronff

  ' What is it, Paula? Are you okay?'

&nbs
p; ' No.' The sickness receded and Martin's face came back into focus. She gulped air into her lungs and passed the back of her hand over her forehead, feeling the cold sweat on it. Carefully she moved away from the wall and walked towards the stairs. Martin remained by her side, his hand hovering behind her elbow.

  ' Would it be asking too much if I suggested you took better care of yourself?' he said wryly.

  ' Martin—please. Why can't you leave me alone? If you don't go away I'll say something I'll regret. And you're the last person I want to hurt.'

  'I'd rather be hurt by you than flattered by anyone else.'

  She turned her head quickly, stopping as a fresh wave of giddiness swamped her. ' Don't say that.'

  'It's the truth. It's time we talked about it'

  'Talking doesn't help.' .Somehow she had reached the bottom of the stairs without falling, and she turned in the direction of the rear lobby.

  ' Where are you going, Paula?'

  'To get some air.'

  'I'll come with you.'

  Too tired to argue, she accepted his presence. He held open the door and she stepped out into the small rectangle of green that served as a garden. She sat on a bench overlooking a straggling patch of shrubbery and closed her eyes, hearing Martin's voice from a long way off.

  ' Your marriage is finished, Paula. The sooner you face up to it the better.' She said nothing, and there was the scrape of a match and then the acrid smell of smoke. '

  Running away from the truth won't help. You've got to put Scott out of your mind.'

  ' You make it sound so easy.' Her voice was savage.

  ' Of course it's not easy 'But it'll be worse if you don't forget him.'

  'I can't forget him,' she said miserably. 'I love him.'

  ' How can you love a man who has nothing to give you? Love is believing in someone and wanting them whatever they've done.

  ' The way you want me' she said resentfully. ' Oh, Martin, haven't you any pride?'

  ' Not where you're concerned.'

  She felt herself suffocating under the weight of his unwanted love. Impatiently she pushed aside the hand that held the cigarette. ' Take that filthy thing away— it's making me ill.'