Felicity had begun to pat herself on the back that all was going well, when the first hitch arose. “Is this the case MacFarlayne operated on on Friday—fractured thigh, isn’t it? Peterson pin case?” He questioned his houseman. As Philip replied in the affirmative, Guy Brenton turned to Felicity. “Has this temperature rise been reported? Has there been an X-ray of chest?”
“I think Sister intended to report it to Mr. Elver or Mr. MacFarlayne this morning—” Felicity began But was quickly interrupted.
“You think!” he echoed with irritation. “I don’t want to know what you think, but what has been done.”
“Nothing has been done,” Felicity informed him and, refusing to be intimidated by his manner, went on, “I imagine that your unexpected arrival caused the matter to be overlooked, it might have been better if we had had longer warning.” There was no trace of insolence in her tone, but out of loyalty to Sister Robinson she felt constrained to protest.
“There appears to be a slackness about everything, a condition I refuse to tolerate—”
“Yes,” Felicity agreed boldly interrupting his words. “It’s been a long time—” She broke off and now there was almost a note of appeal in her voice, in direct contrast to her previous attitude. “It will be all right—very soon—now you are back.”
Ambiguous words, but they left no doubt as to their meaning and, as Felicity had intended, left Guy Brenton little to say. For a moment he was silent, apparently at a loss, then briskly turned to Philip. “See to it, at once, let me have the X-ray report as soon as it comes through.” There were, unfortunately, other minor upsets before the round had finished and with a sigh of relief, Felicity followed Guy Brenton from the ward towards Sister’s office. Beyond the swing doors the students dispersed, and Philip excusing himself, hurried off to arrange for the portable X-ray.
“How about coffee?” Felicity suggested as she opened the door of Sister’s office and stood back for him to enter. At his nod of approval she gave Nurse Jones the necessary instructions, then realized with some dismay that Sister Robinson had disappeared. No doubt dreading a tete-a-tete, Sister had taken advantage of the prolonged round to escape to early lunch which gave Felicity no option but to remain in attendance until Guy Brenton had drunk his coffee and left the ward.
With a shrug of resignation, Felicity accepted the inevitable and helping him to exchange his white jacket for his own coat drew forward a chair. “It’s nice to see you back,” she began formally. “How are you feeling now?”
“I’m fine, even that obstinate shoulder wound has healed.” He dismissed the subject abruptly. “Tell me, are you managing to see your brother?”
“Now and again,” Felicity explained. “I’m not bothering very much, he has so many old friends to look up and soon—well, before long he’ll have me with him permanently. We’ve had one or two outings together but I don’t get a lot of time—” She broke off as Nurse Jones made a welcome appearance with the coffee; she was glad to busy herself filling the cups and hunting for the tin of biscuits which Sister always kept hidden for such occasions.
“You must dine with us one evening at my flat. You know my father is in town, he is most anxious for you to come.”
“Oh, is he?” Felicity’s tone showed obvious pleasure. “I’d love to see him again, he was so kind to me—and I’ll never be able to thank him enough for his hospitality to Tony.” She broke off, then added, “It’s good of you, too, to let Tony stay with you, but now your father is with you—is it too much—please don’t let Tony impose on your hospitality.”
His spontaneous laugh put her immediately at ease. “Of course not, I’ve plenty of room, the flat was always far too large for me—in any case I believe he plans to visit Somerset in a few days.”
Felicity was indeed grateful that the conversation had so far remained personal. Any discussion which involved John Mason Ward and the slackness of which he must surely have been aware, would have been unbearable. Anxious to keep matters on a safe level, she went on. “I can’t somehow imagine the Colonel being happy in London. Does he often leave Weir Court?”
“Very rarely—but at, times he is glad to find an excuse for a flying visit to town. He loves going to his club and meeting all his old friends. He made the excuse this time that he must visit the tailor, he needed a new suit for the wedding. I’m not deceived, the old man is thoroughly enjoying himself.” He smiled indulgently and suddenly he seemed to Felicity to display that vulnerability which had discerned so often during his illness. “Well, how about this dinner? Could you get along, say Tuesday evening?”
“I’d love to, thank you very much.”
He set down his empty coffee cup. “Tell Sister I’ll be here at the usual time tomorrow, and I can only hope that—”
So it was coming, that dissertation on the state of the ward which Felicity had been dreading. Determined to forestall him she, broke in quickly. “Tomorrow we’ll be more prepared, everything will be ready for you.” Without giving him a chance to prolong the subject, she went on immediately, “I’m glad to have you back, very glad indeed.” There could have been no question about the sincerity of her words, indeed they came from her heart, she knew only too well that this man’s presence was the stimulus she needed to bring back that incentive to give of her best. It was then that, with a sense of shock, she realized that her time at St. Edwin’s was nearly spent, and that soon her nursing career would have come to an end, and Guy Brenton would have passed from her life. Fearful of betraying her thoughts she spoke again quickly. “How is your hand now. Are you regaining the full use of your fingers?”
“Indeed I am.” Obviously anxious to display his prowess, he laid his right hand over hers where it rested on the desk. Exerting considerable pressure, of which he was obviously proud, he clasped her fingers firmly between his own.
The contact seemed to send a thrill through every nerve of Felicity’s body. Miserably aware that a tell-tale colour had mounted her cheeks, she tried to instil into her voice a note of detachment. “Why, it’s wonderful, quite wonderful!”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it—quite wonderful.” There was an underlying depth as he echoed her words, surely some underlying meaning too, but he had released her hand and turned abruptly away before Felicity had any opportunity to seek enlightenment from his expression.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“So you’re deserting us tonight?” Diana, stretched out on a deck-chair beside Felicity in the small enclosed garden beside the Nurses’ Home, stated rather than questioned her friend.
“Yes, I’m afraid I am, it does seem rather mean, you and I and Philip and Bill always had such lovely Tuesday evenings together. Still, I couldn’t very well refuse Mr. Brenton’s invitation, could I?’ she asked apologetically.
Diana laid down her knitting on which she had been concentrating. “Of course you couldn’t, anyway the old foursome seems to have broken up completely. I really believe Bill is serious about that red-headed Jones, he was making sheep’s eyes at her all this morning in theatre. I think he’s got it badly this time.” She picked up her knitting. “Drat, now I’ve dropped a stitch. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted so I can’t complain.”
“You don’t mind?” Felicity probed, and if she harboured any lingering doubts, Diana’s burst of unaffected laughter which accompanied her denial would have been sufficient reassurance.
“On the contrary I’m really glad.” Again Diana neglected her knitting to give her full attention to her friend, anxiously seeking any reaction her question might evoke. “Philip has been so attentive—I wonder, do you think I’m being foolish? I’ve got a feeling that I’m falling for him, seriously this time, quite different from anything that has happened to me before.”
Diana need not have suffered any doubt about arousing Felicity’s interest. “If you really mean that, then I am glad, happier than I can say, Philip is so nice, oh Diana, do try to be sensible about this, it’s time you were serious about somebody.”
> As if by mutual consent the conversation died down as they lay back in their chairs lulled to a state of lethargy by the warm sunshine. It was Diana who eventually broke the silence. “You didn’t tell me if you enjoyed your shopping expedition with Alaine Jason; How did it go off, did she order her wedding dress?”
“Yes, apparently she and Mr. Brenton have finally decided on a very quiet wedding. I hardly expected it of Alaine, she seems to have sobered down since she stopped working. I suppose it’s because she misses the excitement of the studios.”
It certainly seems out of character, I was imagining their marriage in terms of white satin and retinues of bridesmaids,” Diana murmured sleepily, but with obvious interest.
“Alaine is a strange mixture—” Felicity broke off as she sought the right words to express her feelings. “You know she can be awfully sweet, very affectionate and grateful for anything one does for her. Sometimes she seems artificial and inclined to dramatize everything—taking care of course that she takes ‘lead’!” Felicity laughed but there was no malice in her amusement. “I think that’s all a pose, I don’t believe it’s the real Alaine and now she’s stopped filming, I believe she’ll be altogether a much nicer person.”
I hope you are right.” Diana yawned prodigiously. “The wedding is next week, isn’t it?” I suppose you’ll go.”
“It’s the day after I leave here. Do you realize my time is nearly up? I have a few days holiday due to me, so I don’t have to remain the full month.”
“I can’t bear the thought of you going.” The idea had brought Diana to full wakefulness. “I’m going to miss you horribly.”
“Perhaps you, too, will be leaving soon,” Felicity smiled as she threw a meaning glance at her friend.
“Who knows? I rather hope you are right!” Diana laughed. “Our old foursome will have dwindled to two and as they say ‘two’s company’.” For a few moments she turned her attention to her neglected knitting then spoke more soberly. “What time are you due for dinner at Mr. Brenton’s tonight?”
“Not until eight—but I’m a bit puzzled. I had a hectic call from Tony at lunch-time today asking me to meet him first. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about on the telephone but he sounded awfully worried and insisted that he must see me before tonight. He is calling for me at six.”
She glanced at her wrist-watch. “Goodness! How time flies, I’ll have to be getting changed.”
“You needn’t go just yet,” Diana demurred as holding up her knitting she viewed it critically. “Seems a bit vast, doesn’t it?”
Felicity looked searchingly at the half-finished jumper. “Sure you’ve followed the pattern? It certainly is a bit wide.” Diana scanned the crumpled instructions she was following. “Heavens! I’ve been increasing instead of decreasing! You need an uninterrupted existence on a desert island to follow this knitting pattern, every time I have to put it down I forget where I was!” She rolled it round the needles and thrust it impatiently into the chintz bag hanging on the back of her chair. “That’s that, now I’m going to have a real rest.”
“And I’m going in, so you can sleep in peace.” Felicity laughed as she rose. Having collected together her books and folded up the deck chair, she made her way to the door leading to the Nurses’ Home.
She was already waiting beside the iron gates of the Hospital when Tony’s taxi drew up at the curb. He alighted and waited for her to enter, then instructed the driver to return to the West End.
Where can we go and talk?” he asked her as the taxi slid forward again. “Somewhere quiet, not a crowded restaurant.”
“What about Regent’s Park, it’s lovely and sunny; we can sit by the pond.”
“Good idea!” Tony leaned forward and sliding the glass window along behind the driver gave his instructions. During the short journey in the taxi he seemed to Felicity to be restless and ill at ease. She longed for him to speak but felt the inadvisability of pressing for his confidence.
It was not until they were settled on a bench in the park, with a full view of the open stretch of water with is masses of multi-coloured tulips on the further bank, that Felicity broached the subject.
“What was the rush to see me before tonight? Anything special you wanted to ask me about?”
“Yes—there is.” Tony lapsed again into silence while he dug pensively at the pathway with his stick, sending up a small cloud of gritty dust. “There is something I have to tell you, something you ought to know.”
“Well, stop fidgeting and tell me what it is,” Felicity laughed in an effort to relieve the tension, as she settled herself as comfortably as the hard bench would allow.
It was so unlike Tony to remain silent and with a feeling of curiosity Felicity found herself studying her brother as he sat forward with hunched shoulders. He still dug at the stony path and as she searched his face, she was for the first time conscious of a sense of foreboding. There was a hard, almost grim line to the set of his jaw and when he at last lifted his head and turned to face her, his expression did nothing to assuage her anxiety, the habitual twinkle was absent from his eyes and in its place was a look bordering on fear.
“Tony! What on earth is the matter?” Felicity was unable to restrain her anxiety. It betrayed itself not only in her voice but in the tense poise of her whole body.
“Felicity, it’s awful ... I would never have believed such a thing could happen—I feel so ashamed, I hardly know how to tell you.”
“Tony, darling,” Felicity slipped her arm through her brother’s and drew closer to his side. “Tell me, what’s happened. Perhaps it’s not as bad as you think—whatever it is, you know I’ll help all I can.”
A nursemaid pushing a pram paused beside the seat to wait for a small child to catch up with her. Neither Felicity nor Tony attempted to speak until, grasping the small child by the hand, the nurse had passed beyond hearing.
“Felicity—it’s Alaine—I never even dreamed it could happen. When it did happen I couldn’t really believe it. I love her, Felicity, I love her with all my heart—she’s—she’s wonderful, I never believed it possible to care for anyone as I care for her.”
His voice was hoarse and, torn as he was by some inward emotion, it was difficult for Felicity to grasp immediately his meaning. Suddenly realization came flooding her whole being with a feeling of disbelief, but in her heart she knew this was no wild ranting, she had only to look at her brother’s face to read the truth of that passionate avowal. Some deep sense of loyalty forbade her to utter the words of condemnation which sprang, to her lips. This was no time for blame, only for sympathy and understanding. She drew closer in a show of wordless compassion, while she tried to bring some kind of order to her troubled mind. That this should have happened to her brother was something Felicity could scarcely bear to contemplate. Guy had been such a friend to Tony, had given him the hospitality of his home, and now, after the vicissitudes through which Guy had passed with Alaine, and they had appeared to have reached some haven of peace and understanding, was Tony to be the instrument to disrupt that marriage now a mere few days ahead?
Deeply aware of her brother’s suffering, she spoke gently with some restraint she was far from feeling. “‘It’s nothing short of a calamity, Tony, that I understand, but darling, perhaps it need not be so disastrous as you think.” She forced into her voice a tone of consolation and although she hardly knew it, it carried a note of pleading. “Alaine need not know—she need never know, you are going away so soon now, I don’t suppose you’ll ever meet again. You’ll forget, Tony, honestly you will—I’ve forgotten Peter—you I see I do understand, it will be all right, darling, really it will.”
“It’s not as easy as all that.” Tony gave a short laugh which held only bitterness and pain. “You see, Alaine knows too—” Aware of his sister’s startled exclamation he went on, eagerly seeking her understanding. “I couldn’t help her knowing—it was just one of those things—I believe, it happened the very first moment we met, at the airport.
Of course then neither of us had the slightest idea, we just went on unsuspecting, completely blind to the truth—then it happened, last night, suddenly—it was like a bolt from the blue, we were both taken completely unaware—we were meant for one another, Felicity, I believe it was ordained the very day we were born!”
There was such an expression of utter despair in Tony’s voice and attitude that Felicity felt her eyes pricked with tears. What could she do? What could she say? She felt completely lost and incapable of uttering one word of consolation.
Perhaps with some hope of rousing his sister from the silent depression into which she had sunk, Tony went on in explanation. “It seems now as if Fate must have been laughing at us both, jeering at our crass stupidity. Once we returned to London I didn’t expect to see much of her, I don’t think it even worried me. I knew we liked one another, but I realized she was engaged to Guy, we were just good friends, got on swimmingly together, that was all—I don’t suppose either of us would ever have tumbled to the truth if it hadn’t been for the Colonel; you know he is in town, staying with Guy, he kept asking Alaine to the flat, so naturally we kept on meeting, and more than that—” He paused to add effect to his words. “The old man meant well, he couldn’t have had the slightest notion of the avalanche he was letting loose, but he almost pushed us together, suggested she should take me to Fettle’s and show me over an English studio, then when she finished up there—which perhaps you know she did about a week ago—he got her to take me around. When I went down to Oxford for the day it was his suggestion that she should drive me in Guy’s car. It was all so crazy and yet we didn’t see any danger, and Alaine was at such a loose end when she stopped work, she was only too glad of any diversion. Well, you know the outcome, I needn’t say any more,” he ended despairingly.
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