Rachel Lindsay - Love and Dr Forrest

by Rachel Lindsay

  She toyed with the idea of leaving the clinic but decided against it. He knew she was concerned about Bobby's health and he would be certain to question her reasons for going. He might even guess the truth. And that would be the final ignominy for her.

  Remembering their conversation outside the clinic the night Deborah Redwood had arrived, she longed to know what would have happened if they had been alone together for another half hour. Not that Phillip would have said he loved her: it was pointless to pretend—even to herself—that his feelings for her were anything more than desire born of loneliness. Yet regardless of this, she could not bear the thought, of never seeing him again. Sometime—in the not-too-distant future—she would have to leave, but for the moment she would allow herself the bittersweet happiness of being near him.

  And bittersweet it was; for frequently when she entered Deborah Redwood's room she found him there, his face diffused with tenderness. Though on his own admission he had said he no longer loved his wife, she wondered whether—in a man of his temperament—love could ever completely die.

  Returning to the clinic a couple of nights before Pat was due to return to London, Lesley realised how much she would miss her friend. Dispiritedly, she entered the lobby and was on her way to her room when the night porter said Phillip Redwood wished to see her.

  Somewhat disquieted, she went to his room. He opened the door almost as she knocked, his face astonished.

  "I didn't expect you to come and see me tonight."

  "The night porter said you wished to see me; he didn't say tomorrow would do."

  "Never mind. You're here now so I might as well tell you. I had a call from Kasper this evening. He wanted to know if Deborah would be completely well again. I told him that with proper care she should be able to lead a relatively normal life." Phillip raised his head and looked directly at Lesley. "I also told him he could come and see her whenever he wished."

  "That was kind of you."

  "My father-in-law would call it 'permissive.' "

  "It's your life and your decision."

  "That's what I've suddenly realised."

  Lesley was careful to hide her feelings. "So you're going to give Mrs. Redwood the divorce she wants?"

  "Yes. But Kasper doesn't want to marry her. He was playing her along, but now he knows she'll never be a hundred percent fit, he'll want to back away as fast as he can."

  "He's concerned with his place in the Olympic team." Lesley still took care to keep any expression out of her voice. "He's almost paranoid about being involved in a scandal."

  "I can't condemn him for that. I hate the thought of scandal myself."

  Admiring the truth of his answer, she perched on the edge of an armchair and looked at him with candour.

  "Will you tell your wife that Kasper doesn't want to marry her?"

  "No. She's not strong enough to stand any emotional stress yet. That's why I gave Kasper permission to come here."

  "What if he told her himself?"

  "He won't do that. He knows she mustn't have any shocks."

  Lesley forced herself to say what was in her mind.

  "Are you sure there's no chance of you and your wife getting together again?"

  "Positive. There's nothing more dead than a dead love. Apart from which I—" Abruptly he stopped, then resumed on a different tack. "Go to bed, Lesley, you look tired."

  She was not sure why he had wanted to see her and thought it might have been a sudden need to talk to someone. Yet he had said he hadn't expected her that very night. She nibbled at her lower lip, certain he had lied when he had said that. But it seemed wise to accept his dismissal and she went to her room.

  Her conversation with Phillip brought Deborah Redwood vividly into her mind. Would she turn back to her husband when she eventually discovered Hans Kasper did not want her? And would Phillip have the strength to turn her away if she did? He had said there was nothing more dead than a dead love, but she could not see him allowing his wife to live alone—not now, when she needed a quieter life.

  The next morning Richard returned to his normal duties, and some of the load was lifted from Lesley.

  "I didn't expect to start till the end of the week," he said during their coffee break, "but Redwood rang me at eleven last night and said I could resume so long as I kept my distance from the patients and stayed away completely from the ones who were recovering from operations."

  "Which leaves me with Mrs. Redwood," Lesley remarked.

  "Sorry about that. I hear she's a difficult patient."

  "Then I'd better go and chat her up."

  Lesley was glad to escape from Richard before he started asking her qustions that might lead to Hans

  Kasper. She had not spoken to Deborah Redwood for any length of time, for the woman was recovering slowly from her operation. But entering the flower-filled room today, she found the woman looking considerably better and said so.

  "I don't feel better," was the disgruntled reply. "I hate hospitals."

  "This one is more like a hotel."

  "You must be joking! Or did you work in the poor- house before you came here?"

  "I was at St. Catherine's."

  "So that's why you came here! Another devotee of my husband's."

  "I hardly knew Mr. Redwood when he was at the hospital. I was a nurse at that time and far too lowly even to see him!"

  "A nurse and then a doctor!" Deborah's glance was amused. "You obviously like to suffer!"

  "I love medicine," Lesley said with a smile.

  "A woman after Phillip's heart."

  Lesley focussed her attention on the chart she was holding and then, after some thirty seconds, replaced it at the foot of the bed. Deborah had drifted off to^sleep but even in repose managed to look petulant. And beautiful, she added to herself. Still extremely beautiful. Was it her looks that had ensnared the man who now so bitterly regretted his marriage? Phillip Redwood was so aloof that it was not easy to imagine him a slave to desire. Quietly she left the room and continued on her rounds.

  With all the doctors now back on duty, Lesley found her work much easier, though it was still nearly seven- thirty before she returned to her rooms, glad to find that Bobby had put himself to bed. She cuddled him affectionately, refreshed by his radiant, smiling face.

  "What a good boy you are. Did you have a nice day at school?"

  He nodded and grinned at her, a cheeky-looking urchin in striped pyjamas.

  "My American's improving! Some of the boys are teaching me how the gangsters talk!"

  "You'd better not let Professor Engel catch you! I don't think he'd approve." She turned off the light. "Snuggle down and go to sleep. It's very late."

  It was while she was waiting for her supper to be brought up that she decided to dial Frau Dorfen's number and speak to Pat.

  "I won't be able to see you tonight," she explained as her friend came on the line. "I'm duty doctor for any emergencies, and with Mrs. Redwood still so ill, I'd like to be within call."

  "She has her husband there."

  "I'm still the duty doctor."

  "Does that mean I won't see you before I leave?"

  "What time are you going in the morning?"

  "Noon."

  "Then it's definitely out. But how about coming up here tonight?"

  "I can't," Pat said abruptly. "I've my packing to do."

  Lesley was puzzled. "You aren't annoyed with me, are you? I know I've hardly seen you since you came here but-"

  "You spent all your spare time with me," Pat cut in, "and I'm not a bit annoyed. You just caught me in a bad mood, that's all."

  "Well, do try to come up this evening—or else in the morning. You can't leave without saying goodbye."

  "All right."

  There was a strange reluctance in Pat's voice that mystified Lesley. It was ridiculous of her friend to give packing as an excuse for being too busy to come to the clinic. Especially as she was notorious for flinging her clothes into a suitcase at the very last min
ute!

  The arrival of the supper tray, with Richard following hard on the maid's heels, turned Lesley's mind to her patients.

  "How was your first day back?" she asked.

  "Tough. But then Friday's always foul."

  "Relax and have a sherry."

  "No thanks. I haven't eaten all day. One drink and I'd be on the floor!" He stifled a yawn of tiredness. "My legs ache like hell."

  "Now you sound like a nurse!"

  He gave a loud yelp. "Lord! I haven't phoned Pat!"

  "What about?"

  "To tell her I was back on duty and couldn't go skiing this afternoon. She must have waited for me and__________ "

  He ran a hand through his hair. "She'll be livid."

  Suddenly Lesley knew why Pat hadn't wanted to come to the clinic! She was reluctant to see Richard.

  "You'd better do some super-fine grovelling,'' she advised.

  "Too right. I'll go and see her as soon as I've had dinner."

  It was nearly nine when Richard strode down the hill to Frau Dorfen's chalet. Pat had every right to be furious with him. He could imagine her temper as she had waited for him at the ski lift. Yet being a nurse, surely she would understand how easy it was to forget everything outside a hospital? Not that Pat was easy to forget. Her round, freckled face and mop of unruly red curls had been constantly in his mind during the past few days.

  She was quicksilver and tempestuous and he would miss her when she left. And until this moment he had refused to consider quite how much.

  Muttering to himself, he marched up the steps of the chalet and knocked on the door.

  It was opened by Frau Dorfen, who told him her guest had gone to the village for some last-minute gifts.

  "She usually comes back through the woods," the woman concluded, "so you can go and meet her if you wish."

  Following Frau Dorfen's advice, Richard took the narrow lane that sloped parallel to the street and was halfway down when he recognised Pat's plump figure coming toward him. He called her name, but as she saw him she plunged down a narrow turning to the main road.

  "Hey!" he shouted in surprise. "Wait for me!"

  As though spurred on by his words, she did the exact opposite, and he sped back through the trees to the intersection of paths where he knew she would have to emerge.

  Soon he heard the snow crunch beneath her steps and he stood behind a shrub, tensed and waiting. It was much darker here, the sky hidden by tall firs, and as Pat rushed by he stepped out and caught hold of her.

  She screamed with fright and began to struggle. Richard shook her sharply.

  "Be quiet," he panted, "It's only me!"

  If anything she struggled harder.

  "Let me go! Why couldn't you have taken the hint and left me alone?"

  "Because I came here to talk to you. I suppose you're angry with me about this afternoon?"

  "Oh, no!" she stormed. "I enjoyed waiting at the ski lift for an hour."

  "I meant to phone you but I got stuck with a patient and then afterward I clean forgot. It wasn't till I was talking to Lesley that—"

  "You remembered me!"

  Pat's voice was so bitter that Richard stared at her.

  "What on earth's got into you?"

  "Some sense at last. I know you've only been taking me out to please Lesley."

  "The first time, maybe, but after that, I saw you because I wanted to."

  "Thanks for nothing!"

  With a final twist she wrenched free and ran past him.

  He called her to stop, but she ignored him and plunged through some shrubs with the intention of taking a shortcut down the hill to Frau Dorfen's chalet. The bushes closed behind her, and Richard heard a frightened gasp and then silence. Cautiously he stepped off the path and parted the leaves to see Pat up to her armpits in a snowdrift. Unable to restrain himself he shouted with laughter.

  "You b-beast," she stuttered, "I'll never forgive you for this!"

  "It wasn't my fault. If you'd been sensible—"

  "If I'd been sensible I'd never have gone out with you!"

  She tried to lever herself from the snowdrift but only succeeded in skinking deeper, whereupon she gave up and burst into tears.

  The smile instantly left Richard's face and he slithered carefully forward, caught her by the shoulders and half pulled, half dragged her out. She was completely encased in snow and looked so woebegone that he was hard pressed not to laugh again as he caught her close and rested his face against hers.

  "What a funny thing you are," he said tenderly. "This should teach you not to run away from me." She did not reply and he began to rub the snow from her hair. "Well, am I forgiven?" Still she said nothing, and he bent his head and saw the tears trickling down her face. "Darling, don't cry," he whispered. "I love you."

  The words took them both by surprise. Startled they stared at one another, then explanations were forgotten as his mouth found hers.

  It was a long while before they drew apart, and when they did, Richard could only make incoherent murmurs and move to take her in his arms again.

  But Pat stepped away from him and shook her head.

  "No Richard, I don't want you to."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I don't."

  "You do. You kissed me back. Very effectively, I might add." He regarded her. "Is it because of Lesley?" Her head averted from him gave him the answer. "I should have guessed. I suppose you won't believe me if I say that even before you came on the scene I'd made up my mind to forget her?"

  "And I was the best antidote," Pat said bitterly.

  "If you want to put it that way. But does it matter how it happened? I love you and that's what counts now. Mind you, I didn't know it when I went out this evening, but when I saw you walking toward me I suddenly knew it was you or no one."

  "No one?"

  "No one else that I want to marry." He saw her turn away and his confidence died. "I'm sorry," he said jerkily. "When you kissed me just now I thought_________ But it was my mistake. Let's forget it and no hard feelings. Goodbye, darling."

  He touched her hair with unsteady fingers and turned on his heel.

  "Richard!" Pat's voice vibrated across the distance between them and he glanced back, saw the look on her face and raced down the lane again, the two figures becoming one as a cloud obscured the moon.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "i cant believe it!" Lesley exclaimed when Pat came to the clinic the next morning to tell her she was engaged to Richard. When I remember the things you used to say about him!"

  "I must have been mad!"

  "When are you planning to get married?"

  "We haven't got around to fixing the date yet. Richard wants to go into general practice in England, but we can't do that until we have some more money in the bank."

  Lesley nodded sympathetically. "Perhaps Mr. Redwood knows of a partnership going."

  "Richard doesn't want him to know he intends leaving—at least not until he's made up his mind exactly when it will be. It might be a year before we can manage it." Pat sighed. "I'm going to miss him terribly. I still can't believe he loves me. I had always thought you and he…"

  "I was a habit with him. He just never had the sense to see it."

  Pat left Arosa later that morning, and for several days Richard was so woebegone that Lesley felt duty bound to spend her spare time with him.

  Her only glimpse of Phillip was on the wards, and he was so formal that she wondered if she had imagined the conversation that had taken place between them on the mountainside and the one they had subsequently had in his apartment on the night Hans Kasper had telephoned. Perhaps his overwrought state had made him say things he now regretted? Yet she had been so sure he had wanted her friendship, even believed he might one day want more———

  Her only consolation was that he spent little time alone with his wife, his visits to her being brief and professional—behaviour that did not go unremarked by the staff.

  "Such a pity," Nurse L
iesel murmured. "It would be so much better for the Herr Doktor if—"

  "That's his affair," Lesley said abruptly. "I know you mean well, but Mr. Redwood would hate it if he knew we were gossiping about him."

  "But he is so good!" the girl exclaimed. "He deserves to be happy."

  Lesley remembered these words later that afternoon as she walked into Deborah's room and found her sitting in an armchair by the window.

  "How nice to see you out of bed. You'll soon be running around again."

  "Don't bother lying. I'll be an invalid for life."

  "No, you won't." Lesley perched on the windowsill. "You're just feeling depressed."

  "So would you if you were in my shoes. I've "nothing to live for!"

  "Rubbish! You're young, beautiful, rich."

  "At least you don't mention my husband," Deborah sneered. "I suppose I should thank you for not pretending about that!"

  "Mr. Redwood saved your life."

  "More's the pity. If he won't divorce me I might just as well be dead! Hans won't look at me until I'm free."

  Lesley rose and the other woman laughed mirthlessly.

  "Stop being so prissy minded. It's no secret. Phillip and I are washed up. If he weren't so concerned with his blessed reputation he'd have set me free two years ago."

  Carefully Lesley kept her voice expressionless.

  "If you were free, would Herr Kasper marry you?" '

  "Of course. He loves me. But he won't admit it while I'm still married. He has his career to think of."

  "Like your husband," Lesley said before she could stop herself.

  "Divorcing me wouldn't harm Phillip now," Deborah retorted. "He's already made a name for himself. Anyway, I'd be the guilty one."

  Red colour stained the thin cheeks and Lesley tried to make the conversation less emotive.

  "It would be more sensible to get completely well before you start thinking of your future."