She turned away. "Yes."
"Can I help?"
"No. I have to talk Phillip."
"How can he help if I can't?" Pulling her around to face him, Richard stared at her, his expression becoming incredulous as he did so. "Don't tell me you've fallen for him?"
"Don't be silly!"
"You have," he repeated. "For heaven's sake, Lesley, you must be out of your mind! Redwood's not for you. Stay out of his life."
"You stay out of mine!" she cried and, pulling away from him, ran down the stairs to Phillip's room.
His voice bade her come in, and as she did so, Tie came instantly to her side. "I've been aching to see you all day."
"Have you spoken to' Deborah?"
"What about?"
Lesley drew a deep breath. "I can see you don't know." Shakily she told him of the scene that had taken place earlier that afternoon.
"So the cards are down," Phillip murmured as she concluded. "A victory and a defeat in the same day."
"What do you mean?"
"It isn't important." He caught her close and buried his face in her hair. "Nothing's important except that we love each other. You're the most wonderful thing that's happened to me and I'll never give you up. Never!"
She pulled away from him. "You still haven't answered my question. What do you mean by a victory and a defeat?"
"It was just a figure of speech."
"Stop prevaricating and tell me the truth."
He moved over to his desk and leaned against it.
"What do you know about Deborah's father?
"Only that he's chairman of the board of St. Catherines.”
"And the Reeves and Grant Memorial Hospital, too."
"Is that important?"
"It soon will be. John Egham—the potted-meat fellow—donated five million pounds to build a bronchial and chest research centre there. When it's finished it will be the finest in the world." He hesitated. "Sir Lionel has asked me to be its chief consultant surgeon."
"That's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "You accepted, of course?"
"You don't think the offer will stand once he knows Deborah and I are through? It would have been bad enough if I had divorced her but if she divorces me_________________________________________"
"She hasn't any grounds."
"Who'll believe that after the newspapers have finished with us?"
"Sir Lionel will. He knows what Deborah's like."
"Maybe… but she's his daughter. He'll do everything to protect her."
"You've wasted enough of your life doing what he wants. He can't expect you to sacrifice the rest of it."
"He wouldn't consider it a sacrifice," Phillip said drily. "He loves Deborah. He's convinced that once she accepts the fact that Kasper doesn't want her, she'll come back to me."
"She's never done so before."
"But things are going to be different," Phillip's tone was still dry. "After all, I'll be returning to England—to a prestige appointment with a knighthood waiting in the wings. It's what Deborah has always wanted for me. And with Kasper gone____ " He sighed. "Anyway, that's what
Sir Lionel thinks." "Do you? Lesley asked quietly.
"I don't know what she'll do and I don't care. My life's over with her. It's you I love. I was in two minds this afternoon whether or not to tell Sir Lionel about us. The only reason I didn't was that Deborah's still here and I'm looking after her." He moved closer to Lesley. "Don't look so shattered, darling. It isn't the end of the world. I enjoy my work here and as long as you won't mind living in Arosa—————— "
"You can't turn down Sir Lionel's offer."
"He'll withdraw it when he hears about the divorce."
"But you're the best man for the job! He wouldn't let his personal emotions govern his judgment."
"Don't be so sure. He qualified the offer by saying he hoped Deborah and I would patch things up."
"But he knows about Hans!"
"He still thinks that if I go back to England, she'll want to share the honour and glory."
"So the job only holds if your marriage does?"
"Yes. Now you can see why I refused it."
"You can't refuse it. You must write and tell him you've changed your mind."
"I won't be blackmailed into taking it. Or do you want me to give you up?" He saw the heartbreak in her eyes and rested his cheek on hers. "I can't do it, darling. You're my whole life. Without you I wouldn't want to go on.
They were words Lesley wanted to hear and she clung to him, returning his passionate kisses with equal intensity, finding oblivion in desire.
But it was only a temporary oblivion-, and when she finally returned to her room she knew that regardless of what Phillip said, she could not allow him to throw away an opportunity of a lifetime.
But how could she prevent it? Even if she left the clinic he would follow her. Restlessly she roamed the room, jerking into awareness by the ringing of the telephone. It was Hans Kasper.
"I wonder if I could see you, Dr. Forrest? I am returning to St. Moritz tonight and I wish to talk to you first. If I could come to the clinic——— "
"No," she said quickly, "I'll meet you at the Murmel- tier. In about fifteen minutes."
Entering the brightly lit cafe, she found Hans Kasper sitting at a small table.
"It was good of you to come, Fraulein Doktor."
"You made it sound important."
"It is." He delved into his pocRet and withdrew a crumpled magazine she recognised as a popular Swiss one. He thumbed through the pages and opened it at a photograph of himself and a healthy-looking blond girl. Slowly he translated the caption. "Hans Kasper, Swiss skiing champion photographed in Zurich with his fianc6e, Ingeborge Leif, Austrian skating champion."
Lesley glanced at the date of the paper and saw it was the previous week's.
"I suppose I should compliment you on waiting until Mrs. Redwood had recovered from her operation," she said icily.
"I didn't know the photograph had been taken," he protested. "My engagement was a secret."
"Someone must have leaked it."
"It was Inge. She wanted to announce it six months ago."
"A pity you didn't. It would have saved a lot of trouble."
"I wanted to wait until the end of the tourist season. I tcach many women and… you understand?"
"Perfectly. A handsome ski instructor holds great attraction—especially if he's single!"
"You have no right to condemn me." Colour flared in his cheeks. "I need the money, and the rich women who stay at St. Moritz don't care how much they spend as long as they are kept amused."
"And hurt?" Lesley queried.
"Deborah was the first one to take it seriously. To begin with, it was a flirtation for her, tO'o. But soon it became her obsession." He flung out his hands. "I kept hoping she would meet someone else. But she didn't. I had made up my mind to end it, then she became ill. That is the only reason I have remained silent."
"You must still be silent," Lesley retorted. "She's far too ill to be told the truth."
"How can you be sorry for her after the way she behaved today? The things she said about you and the Herr Doktor—————— "
"They are lies and I have ignored them," Lesley said sharply. "Mrs. Redwood is ill and I'm her doctor. That's my main concern. If she finds out you're engaged______________________________________ "
"She'll forget me soon enough! Last year-she was in love with another man and next year it will be someone else! If I could only make her realise it."
"You daren't tell her now," Lesley persisted.
"This afternoon you said she was better."
"Only by comparison with when she arrived at the clinic."
"But she has to know I'm not free!"
"Would you like it on your conscience if she died?"
Kasper grasped the edge of the table. "A shock could do that?"
"Yes."
Slowly the colour drained from his face. "Then I cannot t
ell her. She has driven me mad with her tantrums, but I could not do anything that might kill her."
Realising there was nothing more she could say, Lesley stood up. "I'm sorry I haven't been of more help, but it's better if you know the truth."
She left him sitting at the table, deep in thought, and he did not look up as the door of the cafe creaked closed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lesley had no chance to tell Phillip about Kasper's engagement until the following morning. She met him as she was coming out of the radiology department.
"I had a feeling this would happen," he said slowly. "We'd better make sure Deborah doesn't get hold of the magazine."
"I'll go around the wards and make sure there aren't any old copies lying about." She sighed. "It's a pity your wife didn't find out about it before she became ill. If she had known she couldn't marry Kasper, she wouldn't be trying to destroy you now."
"Even when she does find out, she'll try to ruin me. From her point of view, I spoiled her life for so long that she's only paying me back by doing the same."
"But what you did was for her own good!"
Phillip looked rueful. "You once said no one had the right to rule anyone else's life. I may have stopped Deborah from making several stupid mistakes, but that still doesn't mean I had any right to play God."
"It still doesn't excuse her trying to ruin your whole life—everything you've worked for!"
"Don't worry about that," he said grimly. "I'll fight her every inch of the way. I've no intention of letting her blacken your name."
"I don't care about myself. It's you I'm worried about. If—" She stopped as Axel Berteau appeared, a small white box in his hand.
"Ah, Mr. Redwood," he said. "I have the sleeping pills you wanted. I understand you went down to the dispensary and were looking for them late last night."
"So I did." Phillip pocketed the box. "But you'd locked up everything like the Crown Jewels!"
"Those are your own instructions!"
"I'm not complaining!"
With an effort Phillip forced a smile to his lips although, looking at his face, Lesley saw that his eyes were bleak.
"Now that I have found you," Axel continued, "can you spare me a moment? I would like you to look at one of the patients in ward three."
"I won't keep you any longer," Lelsey murmured to Phillip and hurried away.
For the rest of the week she worried over Phillip's bitter reaction to Deborah's threat to divorce him, and her guilt grew as she realised his concern was more for herself than for the ruin it would bring to his own life.
It was not until Sunday that she found the time or the energy to decide to take Bobby down to the Murmeltier for chocolate and cream cakes—a treat he always enjoyed.
"Bobby," she called as she entered their suite. "Would you like to come out with me this afternoon?"
There was no answer and only as she turned toward the bedroom did she notice the note that had been left on the table. It was from Liesel, saying she had taken him to the skating rink.
Lesley breathed a sigh of relief. Much as she loved her nephew, in her present state she would have found his constant chattering nerve-wracking. She wandered over to the window and opened it.
The winter was fast disappearing. The white coats that had enveloped twig and leaf alike were already melting, and the silver birches, denuded of their protective cover-ing, stood like naked ladies waiting for their dresses of green. Everywhere there was the rrtusic of running water—the chatter of tiny streams, the soft hiss of swirling rivulets and the sharp crack of ice eddying in the water. The sun blazed from a blue sky, but the wind was still sharp; with a shiver, she drew back and closed the window.
As she did so the telephone rang. It was the day sister asking if she knew whether or not Mrs. Redwood was with her husband.
"I doubt it," Lesley replied. "He was in a meeting with Dr. White a few moments ago."
"Then I don't know where she can be." The woman sounded worried. "We only realised she was gone when one of the nurses went in to take her temperature and found only pillows in the bed—"
"What!" Lesley almost shouted the word. "Why didn't you say so before? I'll be right down."
Replacing the receiver with a clatter, she ran from the room. When she entered the sister's office, Phillip was already questioning the woman.
"Did my wife ever say anything to you about leaving here?"
"She was always threatening to do so, but we never took it seriously."
"Who was the last person to see her?"
"I was," said an orderly who had been standing by the side of the sister's desk. "I was cleaning Mrs. Redwood's room and she asked me to redo the flowers because she was expecting a visitor."
"That's right," the sister intervened. "Herr Kasper was going to the Hernlei and was supposed to be calling in here on the way."
"The Hernlei!" the orderly rushed in again excitedly.
"I remember now. Her visitor didn't come and Mrs. Redwood asked me to find out if the cable cars were running."
"That's it, then!" Phillip slapped his hand on the desk. "She's gone after him! I'll have to go and bring her back.'-'
He strode out and Lesley followed, running to keep up with him. "I'll come with you," she said.
"There's no need, darling."
"I want to. I'll collect my things and meet you at the entrance."
In silence they drove down to the ski slopes, left the car and then proceeded on foot to the cable car for the Hernlei.
Luckily, there was a car waiting. Phillip bought two tickets and they boarded. A few minutes later they heard the whine of the engine and the car rose, the ground falling away beneath it.
Although the day had been gloriously warm, now that the sun was no longer visible on the horizon a bitter wind cut through the mountain air. Desperately Lesley hoped Kasper had still been at the hut when Deborah reached it. If not, she dreaded to think what might happen.
Below them Arosa was disappearing in the curve of the mountain, the sky was darkening and the slopes were taking on a bluish glow as dusk pointed its long dark fingers into the valley. Would the journey never end?
An hour earlier Deborah, too, Had felt the ride was endless. It was the first time she had been out since her illness and the fresh air made her feel giddy. But she was determined to see Hans and thrash things out with him.
At last she was staggering up the path to where the Hernlei hut perched on an ice-bound plateau. Panting, she pushed open the door. The warmth hit her like a blow and she swayed on the threshold. The room revolved, and as it steadied, a man looked up from the group of skiers at the far end and gave a cry.
"Leibe Gott! What are you doing here?"
Deborah smiled at Hans, though the sweat pouring into her eyes prevented her from seeing him clearly. "You didn't keep your promise to come and see me, so I came to see you!"
He half led, half carried her to a wooden bench. With a sigh of relief she sank onto it and leaned against the wall. Slowly she regained her composure, and when she opened her eyes there was a steaming cup of chocolate in front of her, together with a small glass of brandy.
She drank the spirits at a gulp and then smiled wanly. "Thanks, angel, I needed that. I suppose you think I'm a nuisance getting so tired?"
"Do not speak so foolishly," he said roughly. "You should never have come here. I'm surprised the clinic allowed it."
"They don't know." She giggled. "I played hooky!"
"You are mad."
"Mad for you, darling." She faced him. "What's happened to us, Hans? Are you afraid I won't get better? I promise you I'll be completely fit again. In a few months I'll be able to ski by your side." Her voice rose and he glanced anxiously behind him.
"Don't shout, Deborah. My friends will hear."
"So what? You're not ashamed of me, are you?"
"Deborah, please," he muttered. "Talk quietly."
There was a movement at the end of the room and one of the
men approached them.
"We must be off, Hans. Will you lead?"
"Yes."
"How long should we take?"
"About seven minutes the first run."
With an effort of concentration, Deborah interrupted them. "How many times are you going up and down?"
"As long as the light lasts," Hans said and nodded to his friend. "I'll meet you outside." He turned back to Deborah and spoke in an undertone. "We can't talk here. Go back to the clinic and I'll come and see you tomorrow."
"You can't fob me off that easily." Her voice was more arrogant than she felt. "I'll wait here till you come back for the last run. Then we can go down together in the cable car."
"I'll be skiing down," Hans insisted.
She threw back her head. "I'm not going to leave until you come back."
"Very well." He stood up, slung his rucksack over his shoulder and stalked out.
Slowly the minutes passed. Deborah finished her chocolate and closed her eyes. It was strange how enervated the altitude made her. With an effort she opened her eyes and moved her head. The room grew misty, the chair and tables whirling in ever increasing momentum. She snapped her fingers and the woman behind the counter peered out.
"Another chocolate?"
The thought of the drink made Deborah feel nauseous, and she put her hand to her forehead to wipe away the perspiration.
"No," she said shakily. "I've changed my mind. But I… if you could let me have a pen and some paper… I want to leave a note for the man I was talking to."
"Herr Kasper, you mean?"
"Yes. He'll be back here but I… I won't wait. Will you give him this note when he comes in from skiing?"
The woman nodded and came over with a pencil, a sheet of paper and an envelope.
Quickly Deborah began to write. She underlined a word heavily and exclaimed in annoyance as the lead snapped.
"Do you have another pencil?" she called.
Muttering, the woman brought her one, picking up a magazine lying on a nearby table as she did so.
"It will be better if you rest the paper on this," she said. "The table's hard."
Deborah took the magazine and resumed writing. She had to settle things with Hans that night. She had to convince him she was going to get well and that he would not be saddled with an invalid wife.
Rachel Lindsay - Love and Dr Forrest Page 12