“I must refill my lighter, it’s easier to manage with one hand,” Guy Brenton remarked as, with a nod of thanks, he settled back in his chair.
The purely mechanical task of bedmaking allowed Felicity full rein for her thoughts. Why on earth should she worry what plans he cared to make? Patients were coming and going every day of the week, it was all part of the routine of hospital, one did one’s best for each one, then they passed on to other hands, perhaps cured, perhaps convalescent but usually forgotten. Although a member of the staff, Guy Brenton was only a patient more exacting than most and demanding more of her attention, and although his visitors had, on the whole, been few, Miss Jason had well balanced that little credit!
“This is the best time of year in the country. Do you know Buckinghamshire at all? My home is at Weir, it’s only a short run from town but it’s ideally placed in the Chilterns.”
Guy Brenton’s unexpected opening broke into the train of Felicity’s thoughts. It was rarely that he made any direct effort at conversation, and it was certainly the first time he had ever touched upon anything personal.
“I don’t know it at all, I was brought up in the West Country but I imagine that any place would be preferable to London at this time of year.” She smoothed the bedspread, then crossed to the window and pulled aside the white linen curtain. “It’s a lovely morning, yet if I open the window wider, you will only get smoke and soot and noise, it’s better as it is.”
“I quite agree.” He held the unopened newspaper on his knee and went on speaking. “I get down to Weir Court as much as I can, I usually manage week-ends, and during the summer I sometimes snatch a night or two during the week.” He paused and although his eyes were directed at Felicity as she stood beside the window, it was as if he was scarcely aware of her presence. “It’s been our family home for years, it’s much too big and very lonely for my father, he is an old man now, entirely dependent upon my visits for company. I want him to sell it, it’s only a responsibility and once I’m married I shall be able to spend less time than ever with him.”
“Won’t you and Miss Jason make your home there?”
Guy Brenton’s scarcely concealed surprise at the question showed Felicity how he must have forgotten her presence. “No, that is not our intention.” He looked down at the folded paper on his lap and it seemed as if he had meant to put an abrupt stop to the conversation, but suddenly he spoke again and this time he directly addressed her. “Miss Jason doesn’t care for the country, London has always been her home, she doesn’t like country life and I don’t think she’d ever adapt herself.”
“I see.” Felicity spoke briefly while she sought for suitable words. “I suppose it could be dull if you’d not been brought up to it.”
“I’d like to get down there for a bit now—I’m no use in town, to myself or anyone else.” He gave an ironical laugh. “The maimed animal’s instinct to hide itself.”
With a courage she had not believed herself to possess, Felicity found herself giving voice to the thoughts which for so long had trembled on her lips. “You are taking the wrong attitude—ever since your accident it’s been the same—you’ve given up fighting, you are determined that your arm will never return to normal, you don’t sleep, you don’t eat, you’ve just resigned yourself to the worst, it’s wrong and it’s cowardly!” Felicity was aware of the tumultuous beating of her heart. Surely that hadn’t been her voice speaking? She couldn’t have so far forgotten herself! Rigid with apprehension, she stared at her companion, waiting for the storm which she felt must engulf her.
Whatever she had expected it was certainly not silence, a tense frightening silence, while she tried in vain to read the enigmatic expression in the eyes which met and held hers. “So that is what you believe?”
The words were quietly spoken and seemed to Felicity more shattering than any storm. With a tremendous effort she turned away but as she moved from the window she was aware of her companion’s detaining hold on her arm. That momentary courage had left her as suddenly as it had appeared, her knees felt like water, yet with all the dignity she could muster, she turned again to face him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it’s not my affair, I should have kept my opinions to myself.”
“Sit down.”
The words were in the nature of a command but Felicity was only too glad to comply. She felt utterly exhausted and, at that moment, would have given anything to retract her thoughtless outburst.
“I imagine that you have been thinking this for some time? So that is how you really feel about your patient?” There was an inscrutable smile playing round the corners of his lips as he asked the question.
Felicity longed to believe that the smile was not just the forerunner of a spate of scathing words. Still, whatever the outcome she knew there was no turning back now, so with an assurance she was far from feeling, she answered: “I’ve told you how I feel, I can’t take that back but I’ve also apologized, so please let it go at that.” There was a note of pleading in her voice.
“Surely you don’t want to leave matters as they are. You deplore my attitude, then it is up to you to remedy it.”
“You mean that you don’t resent my criticism? Please try to understand, I do know how awful it is for you. Everything that’s worth while must depend on your complete recovery—whatever happens you must persevere and use your hand. It’s too early to know, so it’s wrong to despair yet. You aren’t giving yourself a chance—meantime, stop worrying and let yourself get well again, then at least you’ll be able to face facts”—she forced a smile—“always assuming there are any facts to face!” she concluded in a lighter vein.
“Of course you are right.” The words were slowly and quietly spoken and there was an unmistakable friendliness in the smile which curved his lips and brought a twinkle to the deep-set eyes. For a moment his hand rested on hers where they lay clasped-tightly on her lap. “I’ll bear in mind what you say. Sorry I haven’t done you credit as a patient, but then you see, you should have berated me sooner!
“I should have done with any other patient,” Felicity admitted, her cheeks dimpling into a smile. “I’ve never nursed a member of the medical profession before, it isn’t so easy, one’s scope seems so limited!”
“I hadn’t thought of that, I suppose it is somewhat disarming.” His eyes twinkled again. “From now on I’ll be a model patient. How do we start? Shall I begin by attempting to finish that extremely unappetizing breakfast?”
Felicity rose to her feet and looked down laughingly at her companion. “I won’t ask you to do that, but I suggest you make an extra effort with your lunch and—rather more important—persevere with those fingers, don’t give in, try to use them.”
Felicity felt with some elation that she had certainly emerged from the interview with flying colours. It had been a harassing ordeal but if she had managed to rouse Guy Brenton from the state of depression into which he had sunk, then it would have been well worth while. If only his fiancée e hadn’t been so absorbed in her own affairs, she could have done much towards encouraging him herself. His other visitors had been largely fellow medical men who had no doubt kept strictly off the subject of his injury, but for Alaine it should have been easy.
In spite of her elation there remained an underlying feeling of disappointment that she would not be able to see the good which might result from her efforts. Soon he would go down to his home in Buckinghamshire and his progress would no longer be any concern of hers. Engrossed in her thoughts, the hours passed rapidly and when Alaine Jason appeared in the corridor leading to the ward, Felicity realized that it must be close on tea-time.
“Hallo.” Alaine waved her hand airily.
“Good afternoon, would you like me to get you some tea while you’re with Mr. Brenton?”
“Not for me—I’m not stopping.” Alaine flashed a smile at Felicity. “I’ve already seen Guy, I came along early, I didn’t see you anywhere around so I went along in.” She paused, then, apparently ch
oosing her words carefully, added:
“I want to talk to you—there is something I must say, I haven’t very long, is there somewhere private where we can go?”
“Sister’s office is available.” Felicity led the. way and threw open the door. She hoped that her voice sounded cordial but she didn’t feel in the least like a prolonged talk with Alaine Jason.
“I knew that once Guy was out of bed he’d get restless— he tells me that this afternoon he arranged with Mr. MacFarlayne to go home to convalesce.”
“He mentioned it to me this morning,” Felicity admitted. “I knew he meant to discuss it with the surgeon but I haven’t spoken to Mr. Brenton since then.” Felicity sincerely hoped there was no apparent, sign of despondency in her tone.
“Guy is leaving the day after tomorrow.” Alaine gave a short laugh. “I’m not too pleased about it, I can’t run down to Buckinghamshire every five minutes. I may be able to get down at week-ends but that’s about all.” With a restless movement she flung off her furs and delved in her handbag for the inevitable cigarette.
“You wanted to ask me something?” Felicity began tentatively as she pulled up a chair for her visitor and seated herself at the desk.
Ignoring the chair, Alaine crossed restlessly to the window, stared out in silence for a moment, then turned back to confront her companion. “I am in a bit of a jam, I want you to help me.”
“I don’t quite understand, of course if there’s anything—”
“There is something—something important!” Alaine broke in impatiently. “You’ll be packing for Guy, won’t you? I mean you’ll be getting his things together for him?”
“I suppose so.” Felicity laughed lightly, she couldn’t help it, Alaine instilled such drama into the most trivial words. “He hasn’t got much to pack, just his pyjamas and dressing-gown, shaving tackle and oddments which his secretary sent over after the accident and of course the suit and overcoat he was wearing when he arrived.”
“That’s it!” Alaine exclaimed vehemently as she stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette. “You remember telling me that occasionally shock will cause people to forget what happened before an accident? You explained that sometimes memory never comes back, you do remember, don’t you?”
“Yes, that is quite right,” Felicity agreed with some curiosity.
“Guy doesn’t remember a thing about it, I’ve realized that from the first, he asks me such odd questions, I know he hasn’t the remotest idea of that evening’s happenings, they seem to be entirely blotted out. He didn’t even recall where we were when the car crashed, where we were going and hadn’t any idea where we had been. I reminded him about the cocktail party but I could see it didn’t convey much and although I have brought it up since, not one single memory of that evening remains.”
“Then I think it’s unwise to continue probing, it may cause him unnecessary distress. Why not accept things as they are and not worry about him? Apart from that very brief blackout there won’t be any other effects,” Felicity assured her.
“But don’t you see I haven’t finished explaining,” Alaine persisted, with rising excitement. “I don’t want him to remember, I want him to forget every wretched moment of that awful night!”
“Then it’s all happened for the best, hasn’t it?” Felicity asked brightly, while she wondered with inward annoyance why on earth this girl persistently wasted her time. With the deliberate intention of terminating the interview, Felicity made to rise but Alaine quickly urged her back.
“You can’t go yet, I haven’t nearly finished!” She pressed her hands together until the knuckles whitened. “It was a ghastly evening, everything went wrong, I should never have persuaded Guy to go, he never hits it off with my friends! We were both at daggers drawn from the start, then I got mad with Guy, drank far too many cocktails and completely lost my head. It all came to a climax in the car, I told him I wouldn’t go through with our engagement and I flung his ring back at him!”
“I think I begin to understand.” Felicity spoke quietly in direct contrast to her companion’s hysterical note. “It seems that the issue is your affair, presumably you prefer the incident to be forgotten and nature has obligingly done it for you.”
“I didn’t mean a word of what I said that night, I’ve told you I was overwrought, I don’t want to break my engagement, I never meant to do it, I promise you I didn’t!”
“Then that seems to clinch the matter,” Felicity spoke firmly. “The whole affair is conveniently forgotten.”
“That is just the trouble, it isn’t!” There was a sudden break in Alaine’s voice. “It will upset Guy terribly. Can’t you see what a shock it would be if he were to know that I had thrown him over, just when he most needs me? He is terribly proud and unforgiving, I know that he’d never take me back. When he sees that ring it will all come back to him, he may even remember the hateful things I said.” Then with a choking sob, she buried her face in her hands.
Felicity stared in astonishment, and a feeling of unreality assailed her. Could this emotion be genuine, did Alaine really feel so deeply? “It is possible, but I have told you I consider it extremely unlikely.” She spoke gently and reassuringly.
“I don’t believe he will remember ... unless he finds the ring, my engagement ring, I told you I gave it back to him in the car that night.” Alaine lowered her hands and lifted her misty eyes appealingly to her companion. “Don’t let him find it, promise me you won’t let him, promise me!” she implored.
What was this girl asking? That she be a party to deceiving Guy Brenton, assist in hiding from him evidence that the love he had offered had been thrown back at him? Felicity gripped the arms of the chair as if by its firm contact she would still the angry beat in her veins. Could one such as Alaine ever have appreciated the true value of love from such a man? She was shrewd enough to realize her mistake now and to know that the finding of her ring would probably bring back an all too clear recollection of the unfortunate events leading up to its return.
“You’ll help me, won’t you?” Alaine went on anxiously, as she became aware of Felicity’s impassive expression. “That first night I visited him, he scarcely knew I was there, I hunted everywhere but his clothes weren’t in his room— I’ve tried to look since but I haven’t had a chance, he is always awake now and I daren’t let him see me.”
“His clothes were not brought up until later,” Felicity announced calmly, although inwardly fuming at Alaine’s shameless admission.
“It will be in his overcoat pocket, I saw him put it there,” Alaine went on eagerly. “When you pack his things, you’ll get it for me, won’t you? It will be so easy for you, and as for me—well, I’ll never, never be able to thank you enough —say you’ll do it for me, you will, won’t you? Won’t you?” she insisted anxiously as Felicity remained silently staring at her.
“I can’t possibly, you must realize that I couldn’t. Do you really expect me to search my patient’s pockets?” Felicity demanded with ill-concealed anger.
“You still don’t understand,” Alaine protested. “Standards of ordinary behaviour don’t come into this at all, it’s for Guy’s own sake, surely you realize that, it’s to help him that I’m asking you. He seemed so much brighter this afternoon, much more cheerful, why, he even showed me how he was trying to move his fingers—if he finds that ring and recalls that evening, realizes that everything is over between us—don’t you think that is going to set him right back again?”
“I don’t know...” Felicity’s words trailed into silence. If only she could gauge how much truth there was in Alaine’s assertion. Was it all real or was it just an act put on to order? Felicity didn’t know the answer. A glow of pleasure had enveloped her at Alaine’s assertion that Guy Brenton had obviously benefited by her advice of that morning; then her outburst had done some good, it had all been worth while. Would he really mind finding the ring, did he honestly love this girl or was the whole thing an infatuation of which he would be far better f
ree? How could she know the answer? How could she know how much Alaine meant to him? There was some unknown quality which drew a man and girl together, something which no third person could define. Unconsciously a deep sigh escaped her lips. At all costs he mustn’t be distressed now, nothing must be allowed to interfere with his progress, his return to health was the one and only thing which mattered. “You honestly believe he will mind? You really know he loves you?” Felicity spoke her thoughts aloud, then, recognizing the importance of Alaine’s answer she fixed her eyes on her companion’s, compelling her gaze.
“I’ve been pretty frank with you, haven’t I? I mean about Guy and me. I told you he scarcely noticed me at first, I’ve admitted that I set out deliberately to win him. I fell into my own snare.” She laughed a trifle bitterly. “I believe I love Guy as much as I’m capable of loving anyone. I love my work too, but I’ve agreed to give it up when we marry, so I must care, mustn’t I?” As Felicity nodded her head but remained silent, Alaine went on. “I don’t want to lose him now, he is different, different from any man I’ve ever known. If he were anyone else, I suppose I’d have had a hectic affaire and got him out of my system; there is no chance of that with Guy so I’m going to marry him. I know he cares for me, he has never been interested in girls, that’s why I mean so much to him. I don’t think he entirely approves of everything I do and say, but he is extraordinarily tolerant and patient, and he knows that once we are married and I’ve broken with my work—which in time will mean my friends too—I’ll be my natural self again. This film racket has made me tough ... you have to be, to get places.”
The ring of truth was undeniable and at that moment she had shown the more genuine side of her nature which Guy Brenton must have found and loved. Felicity rose slowly from her chair and this time Alaine made no move to stop her. “I’ll help you, I’ll find and return your ring.” She spoke in even, unemotional tones which completely belied the doubts which flooded her whole being.
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