"Poor darling," he sighed. "This week hasn't been easy for you, either. But it's behind us now and when I come back——— "
She did not hear the rest of his words, listening mindlessly as his voice sank low and he whispered endearments to her.
Phillip, she cried soundlessly as she put down the telephone. Phillip——-
During the days of his absence, Lesley wrestled with her conscience and, the night before his return, acknowledged she was no nearer a solution to her problem.
Unable to face the prospect of a lonely evening, she rang Richard and invited him to have supper in her sitting room.
"Can I stay up and have it with you?" Bobby asked.
"It will be too late for you, darling."
"No, it won't. I'm not a baby."
"I know you're not." She grinned at him. "But you do have to be in school by eight in the morning." She studied him. "How would you feel about staying at the school the whole time? It must be awfully lonely for you here during the weekends."
"No, it isn't!" He rushed over and flung his arms around her waist. "I'm not a bit lonely. I like being with the boys but I like being with you better. Please don't send me away."
It was a cry from the heart and she responded to it. "All right, darling. There's no need to strangle me. I only suggested it because I thought you'd like the idea."
"Well, I don't," He was positive and, as if to show he was no bother, he docilely gave himself a bath and went to bed.
Richard arrived at eight, full of his usual lighthearted chatter. Though she had wanted company, Lesley found it hard to concentrate and kept wondering if Richard might be able to think of a reason for her to leave the clinic. Almost as if echoing her thoughts, he suddenly announced plans for his own departure from the clinic.
"You're leaving, too?" she asked. "But I thought you were going to stay here until you'd saved some money."
"That won't be necessary. Pat's father has asked me to go into partnership with him."
Lesley's fear that Richard had discovered the facts about Phillip and the sleeping pills ebbed away, and she was able to think coherently. "I'd forgotten he was a G.P."
"Apparently he's been looking for a partner for a year. He told Pat he'd have offered me the job the minute he heard of our engagement but he didn't think -I'd like general practice."
"You'll love it. There's nothing you enjoy more than gossiping your way from one patient to another!"
Richard chuckled. "I won't have much time for gossiping. The old boy has quite a big practice, I understand. I wrote to Pat and said I'd have to marry her now that she's dangling such a juicy carrot!"
"Have you told Phillip yet?"
"No."
"Then don't tell him. About your marrying Pat, I mean."
"Why not?"
Abruptly she rose and went to the window, feeling it would be easier to continue if she didn't have to hide her expression.
"I want Phillip to think you're going to marry me."
"What?"
She heard Richard get to his feet and she swung around, automatically putting up her hands to stop him coming toward her.
"No Richard, don't say any more. Hear me out first. You were right about my feelings for him. I do love him.
And… he loves me. We love each other very deeply."
"Then what's the problem? Deborah's dead and—"
"Don't!"
"But it's true. She's dead and that leaves you and Phillip free to marry!"
"I can't marry him!"
"But you just said you loved him! Come clean, Les. We've known each other too long for you to lie to me. What's wrong between you two? Do you blame yourself for his wife's suicide?"
Richard's assumption seemed a good excuse and she nodded.
"Then you're wrong," he said flatly. "Your loving him had nothing to do with his wife's death. I think she guessed Kasper didn't want her."
"I still can't marry Phillip," Lesley said. "All week I've been trying to work out what I can say to him, and just now you gave me the answer." She rushed on before Richard could intervene. "If Phülip thinks I won't marry him because… because of guilt about Deborah, he'll fry to argue me out of it. And I can't take any more discussion. I want to make a clean break."
"You mean you want him to think you're going to marry me?"
"Yes."
"But he knows you love him."
"I'll convince him I've changed my mind. Please, Richard, you've got to help me."
Though unhappy at the part he was being asked to play, Richard didn't argue any more, and that night, when Lesley went to bed, she had the first good night's rest she'd had for some time.
In the morning the entire clinic was on the alert for Phillip's return, although no one knew the exact time of his arrival. There were guesses all around the staff.
"If the Herr Doktor is coming here straight from London," the day sister said to Lesley as she entered her office in midafternoon to enquire about a patient, "then he should be here any time now. But if he decided to stop off and see Professor Zecker in Zurich—"
"Which he didn't," a deep voice said and both women turned to see Phillip Redwood on the threshold. He smiled at them but directed his next words to Lesley. "And how are you, Dr. Forrest?"
"Very well, thank you." She noticed how much taller and thinner he seemed in his dark travelling suit. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Redwood, I have to see a patient."
"Of course. We'll talk later."
His look said more than his words and she hurried out, breaking into a run as soon as she turned a bend in the corridor and not stopping until she reached the laboratory where Richard was waiting for the results of a test.
"Phillip's back!" she cried. "When are you going to tell him we're leaving?"
"There's no rush for a few days, is there?"
"I want to leave as soon as he can find a replacement for me. Don't you feel the same?" she said impatiently.
"Sure. But I've no intention of leaving him in the lurch. I'll stay on till he's had a chance to find the right person to take my place."
"He'll easily replace me," she replied. "He was quite prepared to send me packing the day I got here!"
"That was before he fell for you." Richard pulled a face. "I've agreed to let him think you're going to marry me—but expecting me to go and tell him so_______________________________________ "
"If I tell him myself he won't believe me."
"What makes you think he'll believe meV Richard protested, then seeing the tense look on her face, gave one of his usual good-humoured shrugs. "Very well. I'll see him tonight."
"Why not now?"
"Have a heart, Les. I'll tell him as soon as I can."
With this Lesley had to be satisfied, but her nerves were on edge throughout the rest of the day and she jumped nervously whenever she heard footsteps approaching. Slowly the hours passed, and at last she was able to leave the wards and go to her room.
Throwing off her white jacket she went to stand by the window, wishing with ail her heart she had not stood in this very spot less than ten days ago. At least then she would never have discovered Deborah, never have heard those few gasping words.
A knock at the door made her hastily turn to face the maid who normally brought her a pot of tea when she came off duty. But the figure on the threshold was not Leisel, and she fell back a step.
"Phillip! What are you… why are you here?"
He came forward and closed the door behind him. "What's all this rubbish about you and Richard being engaged?"
"It isn't rubbish."
"Of course, it is! You're in love with me"
"I'm not."
For answer he pulled her over to the settee and pushed her down on it. Then he sat beside her, putting one arm in front of her so that she could not move.
"Stop lying to me, Lesley," he said flatly. "From the moment Deborah died you started to act as though both of us were to blame."
"We were. If we hadn't fallen in
love—"
"Our falling in love had nothing to do with her death," he interjected. "She never loved me and she never pretended she did—at least not after we were married. I was an unobtainable trophy that she managed to get, and once she had me, I ceased to be attractive to her."
"Even so, she counted on you. She never expected you to stop loving hen"
"You're not suggesting she killed herself because I fell in love with you? Damn it, Lesley, you're behaving like a child. How do we know what madness was in her mind when she did it? For all we know it might be Kasper's fault. We still don't know what happened between them up on the Hernlei. Perhaps he told her he didn't want her any more."
"He didn't," Lesley said firmly.
"How can you be so sure?"
"He telephoned me the day after you left for England."
She closed her eyes, as much to hide Phillip's face as to recollect her conversation with the ski instructor. He had sworn he had not told Deborah the truth, had reiterated it with such depth of feeling that she had not doubted him.
"Go on," Phillip commanded. "What exactly did he tell you?"
"That he hadn't broken his word to you. That he'd still let Deborah believe he loved her." Lesley opened her eyes but refused to look in Phillip's direction. "But what he said has nothing to do with my decision. I don't love you and I can't marry you."
"I don't believe you. You're afraid our marriage will affect my appointment to the Reeves and Grant. Well it won't. I had a long talk with Sir Lionel before I flew back, and I made it quite clear that even if Deborah had lived, our marriage would have been over. He admitted he'd realised it himself. So you see, you've nothing to worry about." Phillip lowered his arm and put it across her shoulder. "Please, darling, don't pretend any more."
"I'm not pretending!"
It was a sharp cry and she accompanied it by an ever sharper movement as she pushed him away and jumped up from the settee.
How could she tell him she thought him a murderer? That she believed he had killed his wife? Such words could never be said and, no matter what it cost her, she must silently bear the burden of her knowledge for the rest of her life.
"I'm sorry, Phillip." She marvelled that she could keep her voice steady. "I know it's hard for you to believe but I… I don't love you. I should never have let you think I was serious about you. You're very attractive and… and everyone here admires you so much that I suppose I was flattered that you noticed me. You see I had a crush on you when I was a nurse and I got carried away——— "
Her voice trailed off and a long silence ensued. From beneath her lashes she saw the colour leave his face, saw a hardness settle around his mouth and a cold bleakness enter his eyes.
"I seem to be an extremely bad judge of women," he said at last. "Either that, or you're the best actress I've ever met."
"Don't be bitter," she said huskily. "You're only making it harder for us."
"For ms?" he queried sarcastically. "Don't expect me to believe you're hurt. I'm the one who's hurt, remember?" He was at the door before he spoke again. "I'd be obliged if you and Rjchard would make arrangements to leave this weekend."
"So soon?" She was startled. "The sooner the better. I'll get temporary help from our clinic in Zurich."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Please forgive me." Without replying, he went out and closed the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Two days later Lesley and Richard, together with an excited Bobby, left the clinic, with only Axel and Liesel to wave them goodbye. Phillip had kept out of the way, and though Lesley longed for a final glimpse of him, she knew that to see him might cause her to break down and tell him the truth.
Emotionally numb, she was unaware of her journey and grateful for Richard's presence. Nothing held any reality for her and even when greeted by Pat and Martha Roberts at London Airport, she still felt as though she were living in a dream.
"It's marvellous to see you," Martha stated. "And Bobby, how you've grown! You're nearly as tall as I ——— am.”
"Because you're small," the boy said.
"Bobby!" Lesley admonished.
"He's only speaking the truth." Martha tweaked his ear. "Come on, I've got the car. I thought we'd leave the lovebirds to go home on their own!"
After stacking the cases in the boot they set out on the final lap of the journey home. Lesley stared out of the window at the dark roads and muddy fields; how dingy it looked after the sparkling snow to which her eyes had become accustomed.
"I must say Switzerland was better for Bobby than for you," Martha said with her usual frankness. "You look like a washed-out haddock!"
"It's just tiredness."
"I thought you'd have stayed there longer—six months, at least, maybe more. I know I would have!"
"I felt stultified," Lesley said without any hesitation.
Having decided to leave Phillip, she had also decided that no one would ever know her real reason. It had been a difficult conclusion to reach, but any other solution would have been disastrous. Phillip must live with his conscience and she had no intention of bringing him to justice. It meant that she had to live with a conscience, too: for condoning what he had done would give her many sleepless nights in the foreseeable future.
"Any regrets about Richard?" Martha asked softly.
"None. Pat will make him a marvellous wife."
"What was Redwood like to work with?"
Lesley's heart thumped. "Wonderful. He's a brilliant surgeon."
"Difficult, too, no doubt," Martha grunted. "He always was." She negotiated a corner. "What are you going to do now?"
"Try to get back my job at St. Catherine's."
Within three days of returning home, Lesley enrolled Bobby in a day school nearby and also had an interview with the dean at the hospital, learning to her dismay that for the moment no vacancy existed.
"I'll have a position to offer you in three months' time," he said. "So if you can take a temporary job until then
She promised to do this and, when Pat and Richard came to dinner that evening, told them of her plans.
"I can get you a month's work straight away," Pat said. "Mother booked a cruise before she knew the date of our wedding and it means dad will be away while Richard and I are on our honeymoon. So he's looking for a locum."
"It would tide me over for a bit," Lesley agreed, whereupon Pat promptly went to the telephone to call.
A short conversation later, it was agreed that Lesley start work the next Monday.
"Dad says there's no need to interview you," Pat explained, following Lesley into the kitchen. "He says anyone with your amount of training is bound to be sensational."
"I bet he didn't put it in quite those terms," Lesley said drily. "And how come he wants me to start so soon?"
"He rather fancies taking some extra time off," Pat replied. "And the thought of getting a really first-class locum decided him to strike while the iron was hot." Pat picked up a plate and began to dry it. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression you were in love with Phillip Redwood. You never said it in so many words, but your last letter was full of him."
"I… I did like him," Lesley said jerkily, "but I, er, things didn't work out."
"You mean he realised he didn't love you once he was actually free to marry you?" Pat said with heavy sarcasm.
"Oh no, nothing like that. It was… it was a mutual thing. But it's over and I don't want to talk about it."
"That means you still love him. Don't deny it. I can see it in your face."
"Then I must learn more control," Lesley said with an attempt at lightheartedness. "There's nothing worse than going around looking like a mourner at a wake!"
"You won't have time for moping once you start working for dad. He has a large practice and a demanding one."
It was a statement confirmed by Pat's father when they met a few days later, but she assured him that hard work and long hours was what she wanted—the longer the better.
&
nbsp; "Then you'll be happy as a sand boy!" he rejoined with a smile, looking so much like his daughter—though his hair was more grey than red—that Lesley warmed to him. "You'll stay in our home, of course," he went on. "It will be too far from you to travel each day."
"I can find lodgings," she replied. "I don't want to be a bother to you or your wife."
"It'll be a pleasure having a young person around—especially a friend of Pat's."
"I'd like to return home on weekends if I have any time off. I look after my nephew and he'd miss me."
"You're free every other weekend," Dr. Rogers replied, "but even when you're on duty, you won't find it strenuous. When patients have things to enjoy, they're too busy to be ill. The week days are the hardest for us—as you'll soon find out."
Lesley did, though within ten days she had settled down and felt she had been a general practitioner all of her life. She missed Bobby, but was disconcerted to find he didn't reciprocate the feeling and felt so at home with Martha Roberts and her housekeeper that he regarded them as his family. It seemed she was not essential to anyone, and the knowledge was little comfort.
"Be grateful Bobby isn't a dinger," Martha remarked to Lesley on her first weekend off after she had started her locum. "One day you'll get married and may have to consider sending him to boarding school."
"I'd never do that. He doesn't want to go."
"Your husband mightn't like someone else's child around."
"I wouldn't marry a man like that," Lesley said firmly, forbearing to add that, the way she felt, she didn't think she could ever contemplate marriage again.
Did Phillip feel the same way? Had this experience with her soured him even more than his marriage to Deborah had? She had heard no news of him, though knew through medical gossip that the Reeves and Grant hospital would be fully operative in six months' time. Once Phillip took up his position there, he'd be innun- dated with medical-social commitments, and it was not hard to envisage that, one day, he would find it sensible to have a wife as his permanent hostess and companion.
The thought was too painful to contemplate, and she picked up the latest copy of The Lancet and tried to absorb herself in it. Phillip was no longer part of her life—her conscience had seen to that.
Rachel Lindsay - Love and Dr Forrest Page 14