by Penny Jordan
‘Jenneth …’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, Luke,’ she told him fiercely. ‘You forced me into this marriage. I didn’t want it… I still don’t,’ she added acidly.
Only her pride prevented her from asking him who he had been thinking of when he possessed her; if it had been Angelica’s mother.
‘You wanted me to make love to you…’ he reminded her, his voice almost as curt as her own, almost as though she had hurt or offended him in some way, almost as though he was having the same difficulty as she was in controlling his emotions. But that was impossible.
‘I’m almost thirty years old, Luke,’ she told him, trying to distance herself from what she was feeling and what she knew she had to do. ‘You aroused me…I responded.’ She shrugged dismissively. ‘That doesn’t mean that I want to repeat the experience. Oh, and I think it would be as well if you booked another room…’
‘I see…’ She could hear the hardness in his voice. ‘Well, if that’s the way you feel…’
‘It is,’ Jenneth lied shortly.
CHAPTER TEN
THEY had been living together for six weeks. Jenneth had not won her battle for separate rooms, Luke pointing out curtly that to do so would cause questions to be asked by both Angelica and the twins, but he had adhered rigorously to her demand not to touch her, a promise given on the first night of their marriage when she had told him that she would rather sleep outside on the gravel of the hotel car park than share his bed.
In fact, his ready acceptance of her demand that their marriage be non-sexual only confirmed that the desire he had evinced earlier had not really been for her as a person at all.
One morning when Jenneth went to wake up Angelica, she found the little girl complaining that she didn’t feel well.
She caught Luke just as he was leaving the house. He frowned as she related Angelica’s symptoms and said that he’d go up and have a look at her.
As she waited for his verdict, Jenneth knew that once he had left the house she would not see him again until very late in the evening. Pressure of work was how they explained it to the twins and Angelica, and Jenneth was desperately hoping she could maintain a convincing façade of being happily married at least until the twins had started their university courses.
‘There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with her,’ Luke pronounced, coming downstairs, frowning slightly. He looked tireder…older, Jenneth acknowledged. Because he regretted what he had done? ‘It’s probably just the after-effect of too much excitement and ice-cream at yesterday’s birthday party.’
A smile curled his mouth, inviting her to share his rueful amusement. She could feel her own mouth softening in response, and fought against the impulse, turning quickly on her heel. She must never allow herself to forget why he had married her…to be deceived into believing that the sadness she sometimes glimpsed in his eyes was caused by their estrangement.
The twins had gone out early; they were spending a few days camping with some friends, so there was no need for her to go through the normal morning farce of kissing Luke’s cheek and giving him a loving farewell.
‘Jenneth…’
She stopped as she heard the tiredness in his voice, her resolve to treat him as distantly and emotionlessly as she could fragmenting under the pressure of her love for him, but then the telephone rang, and as she went to answer it she heard the front door closing behind him.
When she had finished her phone call she went in to Angelica. The little girl was listless and tetchy, but nothing else appeared to be wrong. Deciding that some fresh air would probably do her good, Jenneth coaxed her into getting dressed, and the two of them went out into the garden.
By lunchtime it was obvious to Jenneth that Angelica was getting worse and not better, and, telling herself that she was probably fussing about nothing, but anxious to make sure, Jenneth bundled her into the car and drove her down to the local surgery.
Dr Hartwell had seen the twins through all their childhood ailments and, while she explained her concern, and Angelica’s symptoms, she waited for him to dismiss them kindly as nothing, but he didn’t… Instead, he frowned and asked her where Angelica had been recently and with whom, and then after he had examined her he said quietly to Jenneth, ‘I’m not sure, but I think there is a possibility it might be meningitis…there’s been a small outbreak locally…’
He saw the fear in Jenneth’s eyes, and reassured her quickly, ‘If it is, we’ve got it in the very early stages. What I want to do now is get her admitted to hospital for some tests…I’ll give them a ring now. It will be York Memorial.’
‘Luke…her father works there…’ Jenneth heard herself saying through chattering teeth. ‘He’s the chief surgeon.’
‘Do you think you can drive her in?’ Dr Hartwell asked Jenneth as he covered the telephone mouthpiece.
Jenneth nodded. She felt sick with fear and anxiety as she looked into Angelica’s flushed little face… She had been the one to suggest that Angelica needed company of her own age…to ask around the village and get Angelica included in the invitations to a couple of birthday parties.
As she waited for Dr Hartwell to warn the hospital to expect them, she tried to envisage telling Luke that she had failed in her responsibility towards his child.
‘You say your husband is the chief surgeon… Do you want the hospital to warn him?’ Jenneth shook her head. That was her responsibility.
Having assured Dr Hartwell that she could manage, she tucked Angelica carefully into the rear seat of her car, wrapping her into the blanket that the surgery had provided and making her as comfortable as she could.
Twice during the journey to York Angelica was miserably and distressingly sick, and by the time the familiar shape of the hospital building came into sight Jenneth’s palms were wet where she was gripping the steering wheel, her head pounding with anxious tension.
She drove straight round to the entrance closest to the children’s ward, thanking her lucky stars that her work on the mural there meant that she knew exactly where it was, but she was stopped almost as soon as she walked in by a vigilant nurse who explained deftly, relieving her of Angelica’s inert weight, ‘Isolation, I’m afraid…just until we run some tests and find out exactly what’s wrong. It’s this way…’
Angelica opened her eyes and said hoarsely, ‘My head hurts…I want my Daddy…I want Jenneth…’
Over her head the nurse gave Jenneth a rueful smile. ‘Heart-rending, isn’t it? But don’t worry. She’ll be well looked after.’
She was heading for a door marked ‘Strictly No Admittance—Isolation Unit’. And Jenneth hurried frantically after her, demanding, ‘Can I go with her? I haven’t had time to explain to her what’s happening…’
‘Not just now.’ The nurse softened the refusal with an understanding smile. ‘It will hold us up if you do, but once we’ve run the tests, then you’ll be able to see her. Try not to worry…I know it isn’t easy…I’ve got two of my own. There’s a waiting-room just down the corridor on your left…’
Knowing she was being dismissed, Jenneth lingered just long enough to squeeze Angelica’s hand reassuringly and tell her that she was going to be all right.
The little girl seemed not to notice…her eyes were closed, her breathing slightly stertorous.
Jenneth watched the nurse disappear inside the swing doors and then turned blindly down the corridor…it seemed to go on for miles, with no evidence of the waiting-room the nurse had mentioned, and then, abruptly, as she turned a corner it ended with a pair of double doors and a notice saying ‘Private’.
As she stood staring at it in confused torpor, the door suddenly swung open and Luke walked through it, accompanied by two other men.
He was talking to one of them, but broke off when he saw Jenneth standing there.
‘Jenneth?’ he queried sharply.
She looked blankly at him, and he saw the anguish in her eyes and reacted immediately, leaving his companions to go to her, pla
cing his hands on her shoulders and saying firmly, ‘Jenneth, what is it? What’s wrong?’
He had had to deal with people in shock far too often not to recognise its symptoms now.
‘One of the twins?’ he hazarded.
Jenneth shook her head, gathering strength from his touch, too grateful for his presence to query how it had happened.
‘It’s Angelica,’ she told him brokenly, barely feeling the sudden bite of his fingers as they tightened on her flesh. ‘After you left she seemed to get worse…I took her down to the surgery just after lunch. Dr Hartwell thinks it might be meningitis. They’re going to do some tests…’
‘Oh, no…’
The raw pain in his voice broke through her own terrified fear. Instinctively she reached out to touch him, wanting to offer him some crumb of comfort, however small.
‘Dr Hartwell said that if it was meningitis, we’ve caught it in the early stages…’
The two men were still standing in the corridor a few feet away; now the more senior of them moved, coming over to them.
‘Luke, I’m on my way down to medical now. I’ll find out what’s going on.’
And in his eyes Jenneth saw the pity he was unable to hide. That terrified her more than anything else. Her heart thumped with panic and pain. Somehow, in Dr Hartwell’s surgery, and even here at the hospital, she had been able to take reassurance in the calm unflappability of the people around her…to believe that since Dr Hartwell seemed to suggest that Angelica was not seriously ill, everything was going to be all right… But just for a moment she had seen the stark, unpalatable truth both in Luke’s eyes and in those of his colleague.
Luke released her, stepping back from her, just at the same time as the younger man said respectfully, ‘The Henderson op, sir…will you want to cancel it?’
Luke had his back to him, and only Jenneth saw the brief betraying gesture, as he spread his hands and looked briefly at their fine tremor, and then said curtly, ‘No, he can’t afford any delay, his condition’s critical enough as it is. If we don’t operate today, his blood pressure could drop and it could be days before we can get it up again. Days that he just can’t afford. Give me five minutes,’ he finished briefly, and as both men’s footsteps faded along the corridor, leaving them alone, he returned his hands to Jenneth’s shoulders and said huskily, ‘I know I don’t have to ask you to stay with her, Jenneth…I want to be there, but I can’t…not yet…’
‘They said they’d let me go to her when they’ve finished running the tests,’ Jenneth told him. ‘I was looking for a waiting-room.’ She gave him a puzzled frown, shock tearing down the barriers of bitterness and anguish. ‘I found you instead…’ Tears spurted in her eyes and automatically she put her head on his shoulder.
‘It’s my fault…she probably got it at the birthday party. Oh, Luke…I’m so sorry…’
‘Don’t be—and don’t blame yourself…’
Incredibly, he was holding her close, stroking the softness of her hair, soothing her with the comfort of his presence.
‘I must go…’ He released her reluctantly. ‘I’ll show you the way back to the ward—this place is like a warren.’
* * *
Afterwards Jenneth had no idea how long she waited to be summoned back to the ward; time seemed to have no meaning. The waiting-room had no windows, and she had no awareness of time’s passing…only of a deep, numbing sense of futility as she prayed inwardly for Angelica’s recovery.
When the nurse eventually came back for her, Jenneth tried to stand up, and discovered abruptly that she couldn’t.
‘It’s all right,’ she heard the nurse saying kindly from a distance as she tried to move her head and found that she felt obnoxiously ill. ‘Stay still for a moment…you fainted…you’ll be all right.’
‘Angelica…’ Jenneth managed to whisper frantically. ‘How…?’
The nurse’s voice warmed as she reassured Jenneth.
‘Your little girl is going to be fine. We’re nearly sure it isn’t meningitis…we think she had a nasty bout of food poisoning—maybe something she’s allergic to. Does she have any food allergies?’
Jenneth frowned—the dizziness was disappearing, but she still felt distinctly light-headed…this time with relief.
‘Not as far as I know…’
The nurse gave her an odd look, but Jenneth didn’t register it. ‘When can I take her home?’ she demanded instead.
The nurse smiled.
‘Well, not just yet. We’d like to keep her in overnight just to be on the safe side. She’s still a rather poorly little girl, and we want to keep a check on her. You can come and see her, though, if you like…’
If she liked…
Angelica was still in the Isolation Unit, looking frighteningly frail and small surrounded by empty beds.
‘I was very sick,’ she informed Jenneth, giving her a wan smile, ‘but I feel heaps better now.’
As Jenneth went to sit down beside her, she said uncertainly to the nurse, ‘Would it be possible to let my husband know that she’s going to be all right…?’
‘We can’t interrupt him while he’s in surgery, but I think Dr Clarke is going to bleep a message through to him.’
* * *
It was gone six o’clock before the hospital finally pronounced that Angelica had indeed had a nasty bout of food poisoning.
‘Which probably means she’s not going to be the only victim,’ the nurse sighed as she told Jenneth. ‘We’re still keeping her in overnight…just as a precaution.’
‘Can I stay?’ Jenneth asked urgently.
The nurse looked hesitant, and then suddenly turned her head as the ward door opened and Luke walked in.
‘Oh, Mr Rathby, you’ve come to see your little girl. She’s much better now, but asleep. Your wife was just asking if she could stay overnight…’
Luke looked drained of all his normal vitality, and not even the news about Angelica seemed to touch him. Instinctively Jenneth went over to him, touching his wrist lightly, a wordless gesture of instinctive concern.
‘Luke, what’s wrong?’ she asked, immediately looking at Angelica, worrying that she had not been told the truth.
‘It’s not Angelica,’ he told her curtly. The nurse had discreetly gone to the other side of the room.
‘Then what is it?’ Jenneth pressed.
His eyes flickered and focused on her, empty of all expression other than one of stark, despairing pain.
And then she knew.
‘The operation…’
‘The operation was a success, but my patient died…’ His voice was raw and painful to listen to. ‘His heart just couldn’t stand up to the strain. Not even forty years old… Damn!’ he swore explosively. ‘I’ve just had to see his wife…’
Jenneth looked from Angelica’s peacefully sleeping form to Luke’s tormented, anguished face, and made a decision born of love and compassion. ‘I’m taking you home,’ she said gently but firmly. ‘Come on.’
At the door, she turned and said hesitantly to the nurse, ‘If Angelica wakes up and asks for us…’
‘I don’t think she will,’ the nurse assured her, ‘but don’t worry. If she does, we’ll make sure she’s all right.’
Jenneth drove them home, abandoning her own car in favour of Luke’s, more dismayed than she wanted him to see by the defeated, despairing way he slumped in his seat.
Once they were home, she guided him into the sitting-room, and impulsively lit a fire in the empty grate. It wasn’t cold, but the flames offered a comfort that she knew instinctively he would need.
Leaving him sitting on the sofa, staring into the flames, she hurried into the kitchen, made an omelette large enough for both of them, and then, without knowing why, instead of making coffee as she had intended, she picked up a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses, loading everything on to a trolley.
Luke was in the same position in which she had left him, shoulders bowed, body unmoving.
He tur
ned his head as she walked in, and grimaced as he saw the trolley.
‘I don’t want anything to eat,’ he told her.
‘Neither do I,’ Jenneth replied calmly. ‘but I’m going to, and so are you…’
A suggestion of a smile touched his mouth, and his eyes glinted briefly and familiarly as he derided, ‘And you’re going to make me…’
‘If necessary,’ she assured him coolly, ignoring the glinting look, and the sudden kick of sensation in the region of her heart.
It wasn’t… He picked up his plate and ate the omelette, eyebrows lifting as he saw the bottle of wine.
‘Whose benefit is that for?’ he asked her wryly. ‘Yours or mine?’
‘Mine,’ Jenneth admitted frankly, as he poured them both a glass. ‘I don’t think I could live through another day like today…’
Luke had suffered double her burden… He had lost a patient, and he had had to endure knowing that his child was seriously, even dangerously ill, and that there was nothing he could do to help her; but Jenneth knew instinctively that Luke was the type of person who responded to the needs of others more easily than he responded to his own, although where that knowledge had come from she had no idea.
‘I was so frightened, Luke.’ she confessed. ‘I love Angelica dearly, but she’s your child, and…’
‘No, she’s not.’
The forceful words dropped like stones into a stunned pool of silence while Jenneth stared at him.
He was holding his wineglass, and he gulped deeply from it, turning the glass restlessly between his fingers, not looking at her.
‘Luke, what are you saying?’ Jenneth demanded shakily. ‘Angelica…’
‘Is my half-sister, not my daughter…’
He got up abruptly and clumsily. ‘Oh, hell, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you…I had it all planned… A honeymoon, privacy, a quiet dinner…an opportunity for us both to relax, for us to go back and… But it didn’t work out that way. The moment I touched you, the moment you looked at me with those big, wondering eyes that said you didn’t believe what was happening to me, I blew the whole thing, and suddenly nothing mattered more than holding you in my arms and making love to you. I blew that as well, didn’t I? Far from being as rapturously delighted as I was that we were together at last… Far from wanting my love…’