The Nurse's Child

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The Nurse's Child Page 14

by Abigail Gordon


  'Quickly, please. It's very cold out in the open.'

  She could see the teacher and the rest of the girls disappearing down the hillside against a darkening skyline and was thinking that if the worst came to the worst she might have to carry the young casualty down herself.

  But in an incredibly short time she heard the sound of an engine and to her amazement a motorbike appeared on the horizon.

  Both Freya and the girl waved and shouted, and on seeing them the driver zoomed across the frost-hard earth towards them. As he braked in front of them Freya's eyes widened. It was the last person she'd expected to see.

  'Richard!' she gasped. 'Where have you come from? And whose is the bike?'

  'I've come from Marchmont and the bike is mine. I don't get much chance to use it, but today I decided to give it an airing which, it would seem, was a good idea.'

  He glanced upwards and put into words what she was thinking.

  'I don't like the look of the sky,' he said. 'There's snow up there if I'm not mistaken. I'll take the girl and if you start following us on foot I'll come back for you as soon as I've handed her over to Matron. Watch what you're doing, Freya. I know this terrain like the back of my hand, but you don't, so make sure you keep to the path. Can you remember the way you came?'

  'Yes, of course,' she told him with assumed confidence.

  The PE teacher had led the way and she'd just followed, but she didn't want Richard concerning himself over her. The shivering pupil was his priority.

  Once they'd helped her onto the pillion seat he was off, glancing anxiously over his shoulder a couple of times. As if on cue, at that moment snow began to fall out of the leaden sky.

  There was already a cutting wind and as the flakes swirled around her in the darkening afternoon, Freya set off to follow him, thankful for the warm sweatshirt and track-suit bottoms she was wearing.

  When she'd been walking for an hour and hadn't met Richard on his return journey, she knew she'd taken a wrong turning, probably because visibility was so bad. Which meant that she had to decide whether to stay put until he found her, or carry on walking in the hope that she would get back onto the right track or come across some kind of civilisation.

  Best to keep moving, she told herself, alarmed because she suddenly felt so sleepy. The village couldn't be that far away and at least she was going in the right direction... hopefully.

  The snow was falling thick and fast, silently shrouding the fields and hedgerows as if with a magician's wand, and as she trudged on Freya was still feeling drowsy and lethargic.

  Was she going round in circles? she wondered as a scarecrow that looked vaguely familiar appeared in the field beside her.

  She'd rung the school a few times after that first call but the line had been engaged and she didn't know Richard's mobile number, so modern technology wasn't giving her much help.

  She tried again and this time Marjorie's voice answered.

  'Freya!' she exclaimed anxiously. 'Where are you?'

  'I wish I knew,' she told her. 'The snow is blotting everything out.'

  'Richard is going frantic,' Marjorie said. 'He's all over the place, trying to find you. Can't you give us some idea?'

  'No,' Freya said sleepily. 'The only thing I've seen so far is a scarecrow in a field, and I'm sure I passed the same one a while ago.'

  'Right,' Matron said briskly. 'There aren't many of those about these days. It's something to go on. And, Freya...don't go to sleep. Being out in the snow can have that effect.';

  'Yes, I hear you, but I'm going to have to stop for a rest.'

  'No!' the other woman cried. 'Keep on walking and stay on the phone. Don't ring off. If you go to sleep by the roadside, the snow will cover you in minutes and then he might never find you.'

  'All right. I'll keep moving,' she promised, 'but I'll have to switch the phone off as the battery's low and under the circumstances I need to be sparing with it in case I get in an even worse mess.'

  When she heard the motorbike coming up behind her it was a joyful sound. She was stumbling with exhaustion and finding it hard to breathe after being exposed to the cold air for so long, but her first words as he pulled up alongside were about Amelia.

  'Does Amelia know that I've been lost in the snowstorm?' she asked.

  Richard had swung himself off and was holding her close as if he would never let her go again, but at the question he put her away from him so that he could see her expression.

  'I imagine so. Most of the school does, but I haven't had the chance to speak to her. I've been too busy searching for you. Why do you ask?'

  'When I was in the car crash she thought I was going to die and we both know why, don't we?'

  'But—'

  'I know what you're going to say. We're not that close. She doesn't know I'm her mother, which is true. But she sees a lot of me and I couldn't bear her to think that the Grim Reaper was on his rounds again.'

  His expression was grave.

  'Neither would I, so I'm going to ring Matron to tell her I've found you and ask her if she'll let Amelia know. But at this moment you are my main concern. How does your chest feel?'

  'Tight.'

  'I'm not surprised. You're still recovering from the accident. I should never have left you.'

  She was shivering now that her exertions were over, and when he'd seated her on the bike he said, 'Hold onto me tightly,' as they set off, and Freya thought that it was ironic that it took a situation such as this for him to make such a suggestion, she thought wryly. Since Christmas she'd been lucky to see him, let alone touch him.

  And today there'd been no endearments when he'd found her. Just those first moments when he'd held her tightly up against him.

  When they pulled up in front of the school the day pupils were just leaving, and when Amelia saw them she came running over.

  'Why do things keep happening to you, Freya?' she asked accusingly as she went back inside with them.

  'I honestly don't know,' Freya said, smiling through cracked lips. 'But here I am, safe and sound. Your dad came and found me. If one of the fifth-form girls hadn't sprained her ankle there would have been no problem.'

  'You said we could spend some weekends together,' Amelia said, as if the previous discussion had run its course.

  'We will,' she promised.

  'We can talk about that another time, young lady,' Richard told her. 'Freya needs to have a warm bath, followed by a hot sweet drink and then twenty-four hours in bed, I think. Just to be on the safe side.'

  'From what?' she asked wearily. 'I'll be fine after a hot soak.'

  'Doctor's orders,' he insisted. 'I'll come back later this evening to check on you. Now, promise you'll do as I say.'

  She was perking up. 'Don't I always?' she parried, with her eyes on Amelia.

  He didn't get a chance to answer as Marjorie was hurrying towards them with an anxious expression on her face.

  'You look cold and wet, my dear,' she said. 'I've ordered some hot soup to be sent up to you from the kitchens and you must have extra blankets on your bed to ward off hypothermia.'

  Freya felt tears prick and swallowed hard. Here were people who cared about her and it was a comforting feeling. Apart from Poppy and Miles, no one had cared a damn about her in years.

  If Richard's part in it was merely as that of her GP, so be it. He'd brought her in out of the blizzard and was showing the same caring concern as when she'd been in hospital.

  The fact that the passion between them had dwindled ever since he'd told her the truth about Amelia was something she was going to have to accept. But she did keep thinking that a man with less conscience might have seen their forced family connection as a convenient means to an end.

  He came back to see her at eight o'clock and found her snuggled beneath the bedcovers in the delicious warmth that the soup and a bath had brought.

  'You look flushed,' he said as soon as he saw her. 'Have you got a temperature?'

  'I don't think so. It's jus
t that I'm glowing after being in the intense cold.'

  'Hmm. Well, we'll see. And I'm going to sound your chest while I'm here. Your breathing wasn't too great when I brought you in from the snow.'

  'Yes. I know,' she agreed. 'But my chest feels all right now.'

  He was observing her unsmilingly.

  'If all this I'm-all-right business is because you don't want me here, hard luck. I'm not going until I've satisfied myself that you've suffered no ill effects. So, if you'd like to take off your T-shirt...'

  Freya sighed. This was hardly likely to be the big seduction scene that she kept dreaming about in the long lonely nights.

  Because she'd been so cold earlier, she'd put the satin nightgown that she usually wore to one side and had pulled on a long thick cotton T-shirt. And now the man on her mind was observing her with a look that was so far removed from desire that she wanted to slither out of sight beneath the bedclothes instead of removing the offending object.

  As Richard examined her he was in serious mode, and when he'd finished he told her without looking up, 'Everything seems fine. I think you've got away with it this time.'

  When he raised his head and saw her expression, he smiled. 'You looked a lot happier than this the last time I saw you without clothes.'

  'That was because I'd removed them for a very different reason,' she retorted.

  'And since then you've had time to regret it, have you?' he asked, his voice deepening.

  'No.'

  'You don't regret it?'

  'No, I don't. But I think you do.'

  His eyes were on the pink tips of her breasts and the smooth skin of her neck and shoulders.

  'You think you can read my mind, do you? If you were your usual feisty self I might be tempted to show you whether I regret what happened between us that night at your apartment. You might be interested to know that you're the most desirable woman I've ever met, and if only circumstances had been different...'

  'So?' she challenged, fixing him with her deep blue gaze. 'If I've forgiven you, can't you forgive yourself?'

  'Have you forgiven me?'

  'Yes. Just as long as I can tell Amelia who I am when the time is right.'

  'And suppose it's years away?'

  Then I'll wait. But do I have to wait that long for you?'

  'You would be prepared to live under my roof with her as my wife and both of us knee-deep in deceit. I think not. It would be too much to ask of you.'

  'So that's why you've been giving me the cold shoulder?'

  He picked up the T-shirt and handed it to her.

  'It could be. And talking of "cold shoulders", hadn't you better put this back on? I've just given you the all-clear. I don't want this to be a repeat of when you had a relapse in hospital.'

  'Are you sure that all this isn't because you don't want me invading your territory with Amelia? That you think I'm going to spoil it all between the two of you?' she accused him angrily. 'Because I am the interloper after all.'

  'If you think that, you don't know me very well,' he said levelly. 'I've suffered enough already by not being straight with you. I accept that you're entitled to make yourself known to your child but, please, let's do it my way.'

  'Sacrifice ourselves and the attraction between us for Amelia's sake,' she said.

  'Yes, if we have to. Because once she knows who you are, I don't see either of us being her favourite person— you for giving her away and me for not telling her the truth. So you see...'

  'No. I don't!' she flared. 'All that is clear to me is that I want you and I think you want me. You're the only man I've ever really loved and because of your code of honour you're going to ruin our lives. Well, don't expect me to wait around until you change your mind. Your junior partner has asked me out a few times. Maybe when he does it again, I'll accept.'

  Richard was actually laughing and her indignation increased when he scoffed, 'What could you possibly see in Garth Thompson? You would eat him alive.'

  'How charming you make me sound.'

  'You are charming...and brave...and beautiful...and I'm going before I forget all my scruples.' With his hand on the doorhandle he said, 'I'll see you tomorrow, Freya, and the next time you go on a cross-country run, check the weather forecast first.'

  As she scowled at him across the room he said, 'My God! You look so like your daughter when you do that.'

  'Our daughter!' she cried. 'Yours by loving care, mine by blood.' But she was talking to herself. He had gone.

  * * *

  When Richard called to see her the next day, Freya was up and about, bustling around the sanatorium, respectably dressed in her uniform. If Richard had any recollections of her nakedness of the night before, it seemed that he wasn't going to refer to them.

  'Any problems?' he wanted to know.

  'No. I feel all right this morning. Physically anyway.'

  'But not mentally?'

  'No,' she admitted, 'but what's new? I haven't had peace of mind for years.'

  'And you think that now you've found Amelia you should have?'

  'Well, not exactly. I realise that whoever had adopted her would hardly have jumped for joy at my appearance on the scene. Some folk might have sent me packing. I was fortunate in that way with you. You are a kind and reasonable man, Richard. Maybe it would be better if you weren't.'

  'We're carrying on where we left off last night,' he said quietly. 'Going round in circles.' Moving across, he took her hands in his and, looking deep into her eyes, told her, 'I hate being yet another man in your life who is causing you hurt. You don't deserve it. But I can't see any other way to cope with the problem that we have, even though every time I see you I'm weak with longing.'

  'Too much longing isn't good for anyone,' she said softly. 'I know. I've been there. How about this for a help along the way?' And she kissed him fleetingly on the lips.

  Immediately his grip tightened and against her pliant mouth he murmured, 'Don't tempt me. I don't know how I kept my hands off you last night and now the opportunity is here again.'

  He was to be disappointed. They could hear voices that were easily recognisable outside in the passage. Matron and Anita were approaching and they knew that neither of the two women would be pleased to see the school's medical officer and the sister in each other's arms. One because of protocol and the other because of jealousy.

  'Ah, there you are, Richard,' Anita said when she saw him standing by the window. 'I've been looking all over for you. Can you spare a moment?'

  He smiled and now Freya was envious.

  'Yes, of course,' he said easily. To Freya he said, 'Let me know if you develop any chest problems.'

  As the door closed behind them, she heard Anita say, 'She's an attention-seeker, Richard. I've seen her sort before.'

  There was silence in the sanatorium as Freya and Marjorie strained to hear his answer, and when it came there was no joy in it for her.

  'Maybe,' he said, 'but all women can't be like you, Anita.'

  Marjorie was smiling.

  'It would seem that Anita is putting our doctor friend on the spot. Do I detect that she's assailed by the green-eyed monster? Maybe she should remember that yesterday you risked your own safety to put an injured girl first, as any of us would have done. Amelia needs a mother,' she went on, 'but Anita isn't the right person.'

  'She might be right for Richard, though,' Freya said flatly.

  The other woman eyed her consideringly.

  'I think we both know who would be right for Richard. Don't lose out on him because of Anita. I don't know why you came to this place, but I sense it was for a reason.'

  'I like it!' she protested.

  'Yes. I know you do. It's all credit to you that you do, but look to the future.'

  When she'd gone Freya began to sort out the laundry. It was a humdrum task, but it was what she needed...to get back to basics.

  Marjorie didn't know how uncertain the future was for Richard and herself. Her advice had been meant kindly bu
t it wasn't so easy to act upon.

  If she wanted the basics, they were there for her during the rest of the day in the form of a seventeen-year-old pupil showing all the signs of glandular fever, the kissing disease, and a fifth-former with period pains.

  The treatment for the second patient was simple—a couple of hours in one of the beds with a hot-water bottle and two paracetamol.

  For the first it was a different matter. She had a very sore throat, enlarged lymph nodes in the neck, armpits and groin, and a high temperature.

  A distressing illness, arising mainly amongst teenagers and young adults, there was little that Freya would be able to do except keep the patient warm and comfortable and relieve the pain from the throat and head. She would need complete rest for the next few weeks, during which time the body's immune system should banish the virus.

  She'd seen it before, quite a few times, but would ask Richard to advise whether a blood film was needed.

  Amelia called in before going home and, with the persistence of the young, wanted to know when they were going to have the weekend that Freya had promised.

  'Soon. I haven't forgotten,' she told her. Then, to the child's surprise, she asked, 'You haven't been kissing anyone, have you?'

  Amelia went bright pink and asked, 'Why?'

  Freya pointed to the hunched figure in the bed.

  'I have a patient with glandular fever, which can be caught from kissing.'

  'Boys, you mean?' Amelia asked, averting her eyes.

  'Or girls, if you have a special friend.'

  The girl shook her golden mop. 'No. I haven't kissed anybody.'

  'Good.'

  'Except the boy next door.'

  'So you have kissed somebody.'

  'He dared me to.'

  'Right. I see,' Freya said slowly, trying not to smile.

  Amelia had the look of someone whose sins had found her out, and when Freya asked which school he went to, her discomfort increased.

  'He's a day pupil at the boys' boarding school. Some of the boys there have been sick,' Amelia volunteered, 'but I don't know what with.'

  'I can guess,' Freya said wryly. 'I might have a word with the person who looks after their health. It looks as if there has been some fraternising.'

 

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