Nurse Angela Read online

  She said desperately “I’m seeing Roger on Monday.”

  “Oh, are you, dear?” Helen murmured disappointedly. “Well what about Tuesday? Susan Wants to see you, you know.”

  “Yes, mother, and I think Susan, as you call her, would like to meet Roger. I’ll bring him down.”

  Helen gave an inward sigh. Why was Angela being so difficult this morning? She glanced at Simon, but he evaded her look and seemed anxious to be off.

  As they all moved toward the door, Helen said to Simon, “Come whenever you can while your mother is here. Don’t wait for Angela.”

  Automatically, Angela climbed into the back of the car, leaving Paulette to sit in front with Simon. No comment was made.

  Again, Simon and Paulette chattered in French, while Angela sat buried in her own thoughts. It seemed obvious that if Simon’s unhappy mood in Paris was due to Paulette putting off their marriage, they had now come to some agreement. Paulette would hardly travel all the way to England to see him if it were not important. Why, oh why had he flirted with her in Paris if he had serious intentions toward another woman? A swift anger rose within her, then subsided again. Perhaps he had been just generalizing about marriage until he met Paulette again that morning in Suzette’s flat. Of that evening in the Champs de Mars and the rest of her stay in Paris, she tried not to think as she watched the animated expressions flitting across Paulette’s lovely face—the face of a woman radiantly happy and in love.

  Presently, a sudden application of brakes brought her from the depths of her thoughts and she realized that Simon had brought the car to a stop outside the hospital gates.

  “I’m taking Paulette to lunch,” he said, turning his head. “Would you mind getting out here?”

  “Not at all.”

  Paulette turned a dazzling smile on her and said, half in French, half in English, “Please forgive my bad manners, speaking in French to Simon all this time, but there is much to tell and I do not speak English very well.”

  Angela forced a smile. “That’s quite all right. Goodbye, Paulette. Thank you for running me back, Simon.”

  Wearily, Angela went to bed, too numb and worn out to think any more and too shattered to peer any longer onto her aching heart.

  That evening, instead of coming to her office as usual, Simon called her on the telephone.

  “Do you want me for anything, Sister?” he asked formally. “I’ll come over if you do, but Sunday is usually uneventful and I did a full round earlier on.”

  “No, there’s nothing I want, thank you. Everybody is quite comfortable.”

  There was a slight pause, then he abruptly said good night and hung up.

  Angela was almost relieved when at last she hurried down the driveway to meet Roger the next morning. He represented normality, sanity and serenity.

  “How’s everything?” he asked as he drove to his apartment.

  She laughed a trifle hysterically. “Well, that’s a lot to answer all at once. For one thing, Suzette LeFeure seems to be enjoying her stay with my mother. I said I might take you home tomorrow to meet her.”

  He gave a sharp look. “What about Simon? Wouldn’t it be more ... appropriate shall we say, if he went with you?”

  “Oh now, Roger, please,” she protested. “Don’t you join forces against me.”

  “I, join forces against you? That’s the last thing I want to do, believe me.”

  “Then you’ll come home with me tomorrow?”

  He hesitated. “We’ll decide that later on, shall we, darling?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She thought she knew what was behind that remark. Today, he wanted her definite answer and if it was no, he probably would rather not go home with her.

  “Is Peter in to lunch?” she asked as Roger drew up outside his place.

  “No, he had to go out. I’ve arranged a cold lunch for us. Melon, cold chicken, Russian salad and fruit and cream. How’s that?”

  “Sounds lovely. Oh, Roger, it’s good to be here with you, away from everything and everybody for a while.”

  “Things been bothering you?” he asked casually as he drew out a chair for her.

  “Yes, they have rather. After lunch, I shall unburden my soul and avail myself of your manly comfort.”

  She was not feeling as lighthearted as she tried to sound by any means. It was not going to be easy to explain to Roger how she had managed to become engaged to another man, especially at a time when he was still waiting for an answer to his own proposal. In spite of his capacity for understanding, Roger could be, on occasions, quite unpredictable. And Angela felt she had had quite enough of tension and temperament of late.

  They talked of this and that; then after lunch, they washed the dishes while the coffee softly perked on the stove. Angela had reached the last dregs of her second cup of coffee when it dawned on her how very quiet Roger was. In fact, he had not been quite his normal self during the whole time they had been together. Now he sat silently regarding her. Angela had rather expected that he would be anxious to hear her answer, but he seemed to be waiting for her to say something, which indeed he was.

  “I’m waiting for you to ‘unburden your soul,’ so that I can duly comfort you,” he said with a touch of his usual humor.

  “I ... I hardly know where to begin,” she said hesitantly.

  He smiled. “Begin at the beginning. That’s always a good idea.” The beginning. It began, she thought, with Simon offering me a lift to the airport and ended with a mock engagement. She collected herself. Roger was quietly waiting for her to start.

  “The truth is, Roger...” she began. The she started again. “You remember the morning I phoned you from the residence? I said something casual about Paris and Simon—Dr. LeFeure?”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, apparently, someone overheard the conversation—our public phone in the residence isn’t in a booth you know—anyway, whoever it was, must have been hiding somewhere out of sight. I didn’t see anyone. The next thing I knew, or rather, the next thing that happened was—”

  “The balloon went up?”

  “Yes. As you so aptly put it, the balloon went up. Naturally, when I returned from my holiday, some of the sisters wanted to know all about Paris. I told them as much as thought ... er wise—”

  “And you didn’t think it ‘wise’ to mention Simon’s name?”

  “It obviously wasn’t, because, when it did reach Matron’s ears—I suspect, via Sister Hughes—she tackled Simon about it. Said we’d caused a scandal.”

  “And I suppose while all this was happening, you were innocently sleeping in your bed,” Roger commented with slight irony.

  “Yes. And the shock came, as it were with delayed action.”

  “Yes?” Roger prompted.

  “Yes. Matron congratulated me on my engagement. I immediately thought of you, of course—”

  He leaned over and pressed her hand. “Bless you. Go on, darling. Tell me the rest.”

  She glanced at him sharply, vaguely puzzled by the way he was taking it. She had virtually told him that their engagement was on.

  She continued, “It wasn’t until Simon came on the round that I realized exactly what had happened—what had been said.” Roger sat very still, listening intently. “Apparently, Simon had told Matron that he and I were engaged. He—”

  “Yes, I know,” Roger said quietly.

  She looked at him startled. “You ... you know? What do you mean, Roger? You mean you guessed what was coming?”

  “I mean I already knew. Someone else told me, but I wanted to hear it from you yourself.”

  “But who could possibly have told you?”

  “Debbie,” he said briefly.

  “Debbie?” she repeated stupidly. “But how—?”

  “It so happens that Debbie knows somebody-that-knows-somebody who works at the General. It’s on everybody’s tongue apparently that you and Dr. LeFeure are engaged to be married.”

  “Roger! Oh, Roger, I’m
so terribly sorry you heard it like that. It ... it never even occurred to me that you would hear of it before I had a chance to tell you.”

  “It wouldn’t, of course. Naturally, Debbie phoned me the minute she heard it. I didn’t believe it at first, but in the end I had to. I thought there’d be some explanation, of course.”

  Angela gave a sigh of relief. “I knew you’d understand, Roger.”

  “But I don’t know that I do understand, quite.”

  “But surely, I’ve explained—”

  “I just don’t see why Simon found it necessary to take that line—to say that you and he were engaged. Oh, I suppose he thought it would make things seem more ‘proper,’ but I wouldn’t have thought two people in your positions would need to resort to such an outrageous deception. Surely it would have been sufficient merely to tell the truth—that you discovered you were going to Paris on the same day and that he gave you a lift. Personally, I think you were silly to keep it a secret in the first place. People only gossip and conjecture when they don’t know.”

  Angela listened in uncomfortable silence. The way Roger put it brought the whole thing down to something that could quite simply have been avoided. She had a sneaking feeling he was right but felt curiously on the defensive.

  “If we’d told the truth nobody would have believed us. You’ve no idea what it’s like in a hospital community where people live together as well as work together. I’m sure Simon did it for the best.”

  “Was that your immediate reaction?”

  “No, it wasn’t. I was very annoyed indeed. I told Simon he must see Matron and retract the statement. But after talking to one of the other sisters, I decided to leave well enough alone.”

  “And what do you propose to do about it now?”

  “It’s quite simple, really. Just wait until the first excitement has died down, then break it off. That’s the only thing we can do.”

  “You’re not going to find it easy. The next talking point will be: when is the wedding to take place. People will not let the subject drop so easily.”

  She gave a short laugh. “Don’t meet difficulties halfway, Roger. You forget that I virtually work alone. I’m the only sister on night duty. I see very little of the others. I can avoid them altogether if I wish.”

  “But that won’t stop them talking will it? It didn’t and it won’t.”

  She looked at him. “You seem to be taking a very serious view of this, Roger. You surprise me.”

  His eyes widened. “And how did you expect me to take it? You seem to have forgotten that I’ve asked you to marry me.”

  “I have by no means forgotten, Roger. In fact, I told Simon—Dr. LeFeure—that ... that...” She faltered.

  “Yes, Angela? What did you tell him?”

  She felt on the verge of tears. “You ... you’re not making things very easy for me, Roger. You asked me to marry you. I was going to say ‘yes’ today. I told Simon that. Now, you no longer seem interested.”

  He clapped his hands on his knees. “Oh, darling, if only you had said that some weeks ago! But you can’t possibly be engaged to more than one man at a time, can you?”

  She looked at him astonished. “But, Roger! I’m not engaged to Simon!”

  “Are you suggesting that you and I have a ‘secret’ engagement? I may be a little unconventional about some things, but on the question of my engagement to you, I want all the trimmings. I also want marriage and I want it soon. I can’t love you from afar. I want the right to love you openly and I want your wholehearted love in return. You were going to say ‘yes’ to me today. Why, Angela, why? Can you say with real conviction, can you say from your very depths that you love me? Can you?”

  There was a passion and intensity in his voice that frightened her. She stared at him in silence for a moment. Then a torrent of hopelessness engulfed her.

  “I don’t know, Roger. I just don’t know...” she whispered brokenly.

  He took her by the shoulders and almost shook her. “Then why, in heaven’s name were you going to say you’d marry me? Were you sorry for me or something? Was that it? You can’t build a marriage on pity!”

  “I’m sorry, Roger. I suppose it wasn’t really fair to you, but I ... I thought that if our engagement was made definite ... I really am fond of you, and—”

  “Anything but love me,” he said bitterly.

  “Love would have come.”

  “Love isn’t something you can command. I was wrong to try to persuade you—some would call it trying to win you. But I thought that if I gave you a little time you might sort your feelings out a little. I know love isn’t always easy to recognize in its early stages. And, I suppose at the back of my mind was the idea that I had enough love for the two of us—like many a fool before me. If you want a thing badly enough you can talk yourself into believing anything.”

  He picked up a sketchbook and began to draw rapid, furious lines, then threw it down. Striding over to the window, he stood looking out, hands thrust deep into his pockets. Angela watched him wretchedly.

  He swung around. “You know there’s something mighty odd about this whole business—this bogus engagement of yours to Simon LeFeure. It’s almost as though he has done it purposely, as though—” he broke off abruptly.

  Angela stared at him wide-eyed. “What do you mean, Roger?”

  He strode across the room to her. “I mean that the man’s in love with you, as you are with him!”

  It was as much as she could do to stop herself from crying out with pain. Oh, God, if only it were true.

  “You’re wrong, Roger,” she cried in anguish. “He’s going to marry Paulette, a French girl—”

  He jerked his head around. “Oh really?” He put his hands on her shoulders, but gently this time. “And you? You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  His blue eyes searched hers intently. With something like a sob she broke away from him.

  “So it’s true,” he said almost to himself.

  She turned to face him. “Don’t you see?” she almost wept. “I don’t want it to be true. It’s just infatuation, it must be! I want it to be, for our sake.”

  “Darling...” He took her in his arms and held her close. “Darling, as soon as you find out, come to me, for I’ll always love you.”

  Pain and anguish tearing at her heart, she left him, feeling utterly desolate and unwanted. Simon was going to marry Paulette and Roger had thrust her acceptance of his proposal back into her face. Barely looking where she was going she dodged among the crowd of shoppers along the busy pavement. Then, as if providence wanted to further add to her unhappiness, she saw, scarcely two yards away, Simon coming out of a jeweler’s, Paulette on his arm happily admiring a ring on her finger, which flashed in the afternoon sun.

  Blindly, Angela turned away and almost fell into a seat on a bus, which happened to be standing nearby.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was quite dark when Angela returned to the hospital that night. The bus had taken her out onto the moors and she had walked until she was exhausted before throwing herself down on the bracken unable to walk a step farther. Roger was right not to tolerate second-best love, of course. In the acceptance of his love and proposal of marriage she had merely sought relief from her inner sense of frustration and a love to take the place of one she most desired—Simon’s.

  Out on the moors the soft warmth of the autumn sun and the pungent smell of the bracken had been like a balm to her bruised heart and pride, and the fresh, cool breeze had helped to clear her mind a little. Of course, she had been wrong, utterly wrong, to contemplate marriage to Roger, feeling as she did about Simon. She thought with shame how reluctant she had been to give time to Suzette and her mother because it might mean being in Simon’s company, and she could not bear the thought of being with him, loving him and not being loved in return. She had behaved badly and had very nearly been guilty of spoiling Roger’s life. She was still, however, a long way from accepting, without pain, the fact
that Simon belonged to Paulette. Tears ran down her cheeks at the recollection that, though he had held her in his arms many times during those wonderful nights in Paris and had kissed her as though he loved her, the only time he had spoken the words she would give the world to hear, he had followed it by a regretful, “up here there is too much magic.”

  When dusk began to fall she got to her feet, and finding the road again, caught a bus back to town.

  When the maid brought her breakfast on Tuesday morning she was told she was wanted on the telephone.

  “I’m so glad I’ve found you still in, darling,” her mother’s voice said brightly. “I wasn’t sure what was happening today. You are coming home aren’t you?”

  “Yes, Mother, as soon as I’ve had breakfast.”

  “Is Roger coming with you?”

  Her heart contracted painfully. “No, Mother.”

  “Oh well, in that case, you won’t mind if Simon comes, will you? I’d so like to take Susan out for the day and it’s much nicer in a car than waiting for buses. Simon would bring his car, of course.”

  “Is he free? You seem more informed about his movements than I do.”

  “Susan called him. He has one or two things to attend to; then he is leaving the rest to Dr. Wilson. He said he’d be leaving about ten o’clock,” she hinted.

  “What about Paulette?”

  “Paulette? My dear, surely you know she’s in Derby today. You must have been dreaming on Sunday. Anyway, Simon gave the message that if you’re free...”

  Angela sighed resignedly. “All right, Mother. I’ll go and get ready now.”

  What Paulette Was doing in Derby she had no idea. All she knew was that Paulette would not be with them. She would have Simon’s company for the whole day. She forgot for the moment that that could mean pain as well as joy, and with a thrill of excitement she went to get ready, leaving her breakfast almost untouched.