'No, I haven't,' snapped Nell. 'But with Elizabeth away I have to go home. I can't leave it all to Blackie.'
'I didn't know she was having a holiday.'
'Not a holiday. She's unwell.' She would have been content to leave it at that, but he wanted to know more details. He probed and Nell parried his questions.
'Is there some mystery?' he asked impatiently. 'Why do you have to be so secretive about it?' He sat easily, one elbow on the bar, successful, good-looking, healthy in mind and body. Nell remembered her aunt's ravaged face. The trauma in her mind she could only guess at, but she felt a sudden urge to punish Philip for what he had done.
Completely forgetting Dr MacFarlane's view of the situation, she blurted out angrily, 'If she's ill it's all your fault. You must have known what you were doing to her.'
He gave her an astonished look. 'Are you mad or am I? What am I supposed to have done to Elizabeth?'
Nell glared into his handsome face, quite oblivious of the interested stares of the others, though she did have enough discretion to lower her voice. 'Made her fall in love with you, of course, as if you didn't know.'
His reaction was unexpected. Astonishment gave way to mirth. He was still laughing when the Chinese girl handed him a paper carrier. 'What a funny girl you are, Nell. Elizabeth and I... the idea's ridiculous!'
'Is it?' Nell asked stormily. 'Perhaps it is to you, but it isn't to her. Wasn't anyhow. She seems to have realised what a fool she's been,' and she turned her back on him and walked away.
Their meal was ready now, so she joined the others at their table. When she looked towards the bar Philip had gone. As her anger evaporated, apprehension took its place, for she was beginning to appreciate the consequences of her indiscretion. She had lost her temper and behaved unforgivably—given away Elizabeth's secret, though mercifully Philip didn't seem to believe her. Could she retrieve the situation by an apology? Say that perhaps she had imagined it? She was still trying to make up her mind when she got back to the hospital, but Philip forestalled her by telephoning first.
'Nell? I want to see you. Tonight!' He was curt to the point of rudeness.
She stammered out the information that she was on duty, and couldn't leave the building.
'Really?' he said with sarcasm. 'Then what were you doing at the White Lotus?'
She explained about the arrangement with the proprietor, tried to placate him by apologising, suggested that she might have made a mistake. Her voice must have lacked conviction, for he paid no attention.
'If you can't come out I'm coming round. Expect me in fifteen minutes.'
'But, Philip ... my night round!'
'To hell with your night round!' he snapped, and slammed the receiver down.
Nell's reaction was one of pure panic. She did have a night round, though she usually started it an hour later at ten-thirty. She left a message with switchboard that she was expecting a visitor, but had to go to the wards. 'Give him my apologies and tell him I'll get in touch tomorrow. Tell him I'll be quite a time, so it's not worth him waiting.'
The night staff were put out by her early appearance and didn't bother to conceal it. Only consultants were allowed to make their own rules. Ruffled by her reception, Nell shut herself into the ward office and read through a pile of case notes, with which she was already familiar. One of the staff nurses relented enough to make her a hot drink, and by eleven she felt it was safe to return to the residents' quarters. Exhausted by a long day, she looked forward to relaxing on her bed, though it was far too early to undress, since she was bound to be called out again.
She opened her bedroom door, found the light on and Philip sprawled in her one easy chair. He was reading, incongruously, a textbook of midwifery. 'How... did you get in?' she asked nervously, as he rose to face her.
'The porter has a master key.'
'I didn't think you'd wait. You did get my message?'
'Yes, I got it,' he said grimly. 'And now if you can spare me a few minutes ‑' He took her by the shoulders and thrust her into the chair, standing over her in a distinctly menacing way.
'Philip, please sit down,' Nell said faintly. 'You make me nervous looming over me like that.'
'I hope I am making you nervous,' he said savagely. 'I could hit you, my girl, for the trouble you've caused. How many people have heard that ridiculous story from you?'
'None,' she whispered. Unnerved by his anger, she forgot the white lie she had intended telling. 'It isn't a ridiculous story,' she excused herself. 'Older women often f-fall in love with a younger man.'
He brushed her remark aside contemptuously. 'You have a distorted sense of humour, my dear Nell. I suppose Elizabeth told you how she feels! I can just imagine that!'
'Yes, she did,' Nell answered quietly, 'and she was very unhappy about it. In fact she was on the brink of a complete breakdown, which is why Sandy's taken her off to Pembroke.'
She watched his scepticism disappear, to be replaced by uneasiness. He walked to the window and back, frowned down at her. 'Dr MacFarlane believes this—this extraordinary story?'
'Yes, he does,' Nell said steadily. 'Because it's true.'
She could see that she had convinced him. He stared at her, silent for a minute or two, and when he spoke his voice was bitterly contemptuous. 'So it's true, and how you must have enjoyed it! You realise it'll be impossible for Elizabeth and me to meet now without embarrassment?'
Horrified, Nell protested that she hadn't intended making trouble. 'I'm sorry, Philip. I should never had told you ‑'
'Then why did you?' he ground out, and she made a helpless gesture. She couldn't explain that momentary impulse. Even to herself it was difficult now. 'But I didn't mean to make trouble,' she offered miserably, and he gave an angry and disbelieving laugh.
'Didn't you, Nell? I think you saw a perfect way of getting your own back on your aunt and me. You've never liked her, have you, in spite of all she's done for you? You've enjoyed humiliating her and embarrassing me.'
She started to rise, but he gave a hard shove so that she fell back into the chair. 'Presumably Elizabeth doesn't know that you planned to tell me?' Wordlessly she shook her head. 'Then keep it that way,' he said grimly, 'because if you don't, Nell Ramsay, you'll have me to reckon with.' He picked up the book on midwifery, dropped it back on to the table with a thud. 'I wish I understood what goes on in that mind of yours. You have an important and responsible job, which I suppose you do adequately or they wouldn't employ you. I'd begun to think that I might have misjudged you... that we might even become ... friends, but I like my girls honest... and decent... and you're neither. In fact you're a thoroughly malicious, twisted little bitch, and I'm sorry for any man who gets himself involved with you.'
He delivered this long speech with fierce intensity, gave her a searing look of dislike and contempt and strode out of the room. Nell was too drained emotionally to move from her chair, and when Night Sister rang to talk about a new admission she was still sitting in the same place, staring into the fire.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was ten days before Nell saw Philip again. That he was avoiding her was very obvious, for whenever she was on duty he found time, however busy he was, to visit her grandfather. When she was home he stayed away.
'He's more and more at Westhampton,' the Colonel told her. 'They plan to move the main office from London even sooner than they originally intended. I think Philip always had it in mind when he decided to make his home here.'
Nell felt tired and dispirited, though she did her best to conceal it from the old man. She was sure that she had finally and irrevocably turned Philip against her, and she knew that this time it was entirely her own fault. What madness had got into her, to make her blurt out her aunt's secret? The truth was, she thought sadly, that when Philip was near her she was ruled by her emotions, and not by her intellect. The time had come when she must get a grip on herself, if she wasn't to degenerate into one of those self-centred, self-pitying females whom she had alw
ays despised.
At the weekend she took one of the Middleton-Masseys' horses out and rode all day through the Welsh border hills, coming to terms with her problems, facing up to reality. She loved a man who didn't even like her and she would have no peace of mind, let alone happiness, until she got over him. Hard work, plenty of leisure activities and a return to her normal social life were the antidotes. Full of good resolutions, which she hoped she would have the strength of mind to carry out, she returned home in the evening, to find Dr MacFarlane just arrived. He had come back from Pembrokeshire that morning, bringing news that astonished the Colonel, though Nell was half prepared for it.
Elizabeth and he had decided to get married next month. A quiet wedding, just family and close friends. When her grandfather had collected his wits he showed sincere pleasure, shook his old friend's hand, harrumphed and announced that Elizabeth was a lucky girl. He'd quite given up hope of seeing her off his hands.
'Mind you don't say that to Elizabeth,' Sandy rebuked. 'It's I who am the lucky one. I've waited years for this.' When he left he asked Nell to walk out to the car with him. 'I have a letter for you from Elizabeth. You can read it after I'm gone.' He fished in the glove compartment, handed her a pale blue envelope. 'Don't think too badly of her. Only a desperately unhappy woman would have done what she did.'
After he had gone Nell went into the stables, not wanting to read the letter in front of her grandfather, sensing that this was something private between Elizabeth and herself. Her aunt came straight to the point, no words wasted.
Dear Nell,
This evening I had a long talk with Sandy and he says that what I told him I must also tell you. That I won't feel at peace with the world until I do.
Did you never wonder why Father dealt so harshly with you? Why he wasn't prepared to make things up after the quarrel? He never had your letters, because I tore them up. He never knew about your phone calls, because I was always the one who answered. I told you he didn't want to speak to you, but he never had the chance. I knew he was too proud and stubborn to make the first move, but he was longing for you to do so.
I tried to tell myself that my motives were good, that I only wanted to protect him from further distressing scenes. I lied to myself, of course. I was jealous of you, Nell, just as I used to be jealous of your mother. I always felt that Father loved her, and then you, better than me.
I know that's no excuse, that you may well find it unforgivable. If so I shall understand, but I should like you to answer this. Sandy will have told you our news. He has loved me for years. I've known it for a long time, and I nearly lost him through my stupidity. What I thought I felt for Philip was madness, and I see now I had no right to blame him. I know I can trust you never to talk about it to anyone.
Please write soon,
Elizabeth.
P.S. I leave it to you whether you choose to tell Father.
Nell sat on an old pile of sacks with this extraordinary letter in her hand, and thought out its implications. She should have guessed long ago, not been content with letters and telephone calls. Elizabeth had always collected the mail while the Colonel was still in bed, and the old man scarcely ever answered the telephone unless told it was for him. She should have come down to visit them, had it out with her grandfather. If she had done so their estrangement would have been over years ago.
Some of the blame must be hers, though Elizabeth's behaviour had been unforgivable. Dr Mac had said 'Only a desperately unhappy woman would have done it', and once her first indignation was past Nell began to agree with him. She had studied psychology. She knew the unhappy results of sibling rivalry. She had learnt from her medical work how embittered a woman could become when she saw her chances of matrimony receding. Sandy was a dear, but he was stout, red-faced and balding. Beside Philip's virile good looks he must have seemed to Elizabeth a poor second best.
When Nell went into the house she knew what she must do. She shut herself into her bedroom, plugged in the telephone and put through a call to Pembrokeshire. When Elizabeth came on the line she sounded stiff with tension.
'You've... read my letter?'
'Yes.' Nell swallowed nervously and began. She told her aunt that she did understand, that it had all happened a long time ago, and that the best thing they could both do was to forget all about it, make a fresh start, try to be friends.
Elizabeth's voice was gruffer than usual. 'You're very generous, Nell. Especially as I—I haven't been very nice to you since you came back home again.'
An understatement, Nell thought wryly, but she didn't want to rake up the past. She suspected that much of Philip's dislike of her had had its roots in Elizabeth's mischief-making. That if her aunt hadn't been constantly on hand, making sly digs and deprecating remarks, they might have become friends long ago.
And then Elizabeth asked the question she had been dreading. 'You haven't told anyone, have you? How I felt about Philip?'
An old chief of Nell's had remarked after a ward round, on which a patient had asked if he had cancer, 'If you decide to lie, lie through your teeth, girl. No half measures about it or it doesn't ring true.'
Nell knew that if she salved her own conscience by being honest, she could wreck Elizabeth's hard-won peace of mind, make her aunt's future meetings with Philip horribly embarrassing, perhaps spoil the close friendship between Philip and her grandfather. So she obeyed her old chief's dictum and said steadily that of course she hadn't, and never would. Elizabeth could rest easy on that score.
'And ... Father? Have you told him anything?'
This was Nell's chance to make amends. In the stables she had been tempted. Now she knew that she couldn't betray her aunt a second time. 'What point, Elizabeth? It might make bad blood between you and Grandpa. I'd rather forget the whole business. Like I said, start again.'
She knew a momentary pang, quickly suppressed, when she thought how different things might have been if Elizabeth hadn't acted so maliciously. She would have made it up with her grandfather years ago, met Philip when he first came to Lanmore. He would have had no preconceived ideas about her. They might have been good friends. The attraction would still have been there, and if he had liked her it wasn't impossible to imagine him returning her love.
She pulled herself up sternly. Daydreams were for schoolgirls, and weakening to the character. The ifs of life were better not pursued. However, there was one thing she had to do before Elizabeth came back—let Philip know of the white lie she had told her aunt. That way they would both be spared awkwardness. Elizabeth had believed her, and Philip had enough sophistication to hide any embarrassment he might feel.
She couldn't face meeting him. Even a telephone conversation would be unnerving. In the end she settled for a letter, thinking as she wrote it what a lot of emotion her family was putting on to paper these days! She told him most of her conversation with Elizabeth, leaving out all the reference to her quarrel with her grandfather. She said she didn't expect to be believed, but she sincerely regretted her indiscretion. That she hoped he wasn't staying away from the Manor on her account, and ended that there was absolutely no need to reply. She just wanted to relieve his mind of any disquiet over Elizabeth.
In spite of her disclaimer she half hoped to hear from him, but he neither wrote or telephoned, and continued to stay away when she was at home.
July came in with a spell of hot humid weather, so that the delivery rooms at the hospital were like a furnace, and the medical staff longed for fewer babies to be born.
'Wouldn't you think they'd plan it better?' one of the mid-wives complained to Nell, as she bathed the latest arrival. 'Who wants a baby in a heatwave?'
Nell laughed, removed her cap and gown, and kicked off her rubber boots. She ran a hand through her curls because she had left her comb behind, and retired thankfully to the residents' quarters. She felt hot and sticky, badly in need of a shower. As she turned the corner that led to the staff block she gave a little gasp and came to a halt. Philip was coming o
ut of the residents' wing. She went slowly towards him, the blood thundering in her ears.
'Were you looking for me? I've been on duty. Did you get my letter? You did understand what I was trying to say?'
He nodded, his expression cool. 'Yes, Nell, I understood.'
She sighed. 'I can see you haven't really forgiven me, but all the same thank you for coming.'
'My dear girl, I hate to disillusion you, but I'm not here on your account. Alex Mackenzie and I are working something out for the trauma unit. Trent Electronics are keen to link up with medical research, and this is one of the most go-ahead hospitals in the country.' He nodded casually, and since she could only stand and stare stupidly up at him, he put both hands on her shoulders and moved her out of the way.
It was a cruel and deliberate snub, and she had laid herself wide open to it, by her idiotic assumption that he had come to see her. All her good resolves, her determination to be sensible, had disappeared as soon as she saw him. At that moment she came near to hating him. Hurt and humiliated, she climbed the stairs wearily to her bedroom, hoping that it would be a long time before she met Philip again. A vain hope, for he seemed to haunt the hospital. She saw him in the distance next afternoon, talking to Alex Mackenzie, passed his car in the drive another day, went into the dining-room one Monday to find him at lunch with the consultants.
Her cheeks burnt when she saw him there and she chose a chair with her back to him, thankful that junior and senior staff sat at separate tables. She scarcely noticed what she ate, so conscious was she of the man behind her. The impulse to turn and look at him was almost uncontrollable. She pushed away a half-eaten portion of marmalade tart and rose clumsily. At the door she met Jean Mackenzie, who greeted her with a friendly smile.
'Is the hospital food still as awful as it used to be?'
'I don't know,' Nell said foolishly, and Jean stared at her.
'Well, honestly! Are you so wrapped up in your work you don't even notice?'
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