Dark Summer Dawn (22 page)

She knew now that she hadn't only been shielding Julie in those days, but Dane as well from the pain of disillusion from the young sister he loved. Both Chas and he would have been hurt by the truth, so she had remained silent, and through that silence she had been the one to suffer.

Flowers arrived during the course of the morning, from Chas of course, and a nurse told her that there had been numerous phone calls asking after her, some of them from newspapers.

Lisa groaned inwardly. She had forgotten that the Amber Girl was still news, and was glad that the strict hospital rules protected her from any enterprising reporter's invasion.

She found she was behaving with total docility, resting when she was told, eating the meals brought to her with a complete lack of appetite.

Dr Simms was pleased with her and said so on his evening visit. If she continued to make progress she could go home the day after tomorrow. He was less pleased when Lisa told him she would be returning to London as soon as she left hospital.

'I don't care for that idea at all,' he said flatly. 'You've had a bad shock, and a nasty bump on the head, and you need to rest in an environment where you'll be looked after, at least for a week. I'll have a word with your stepfather.'

Lisa didn't argue any more, but her mind was made up. There was no way she was going back to Stoniscliffe, no matter what pressure the doctor or Chas brought to bear.

To change the subject, she asked how Julie was getting on. She'd asked at intervals during the day, and had been told that her stepsister was as well as could be expected but under sedation.

Dr Simms frowned a little. 'Physically, she's comfortable, but she doesn't help herself. She's in a highly emotional state, and we're having great difficulty with her—trying to help her to calm down and accept what has happened.' He hesitated. 'I did hope that her fiance could be of assistance, but the very idea made her so hysterical that we couldn't pursue it.'

Lisa bit her lip. 'I think the engagement is at an end,' she ventured, wondering how much Julie had let slip in the presence of the medical staff.

'I see.' Dr Simms looked rather disapproving.

'Perhaps I could see Miss Riderwood,' Lisa suggested, but the doctor shook his head.

'She's asleep a great deal of the time, and apart from that we've been instructed that only her immediate family are allowed to visit. Her father is coming again this evening.'

Lisa was silent. She didn't even have to ask who had issued such instructions. She knew only too well.

The morning papers were something of a shock. In most of them, Lisa learned, she was seriously injured, even disfor life.

'What nonsense!' one of the nurses snorted as she changed Lisa's dressing with deft fingers. 'Why, this little cut won't even leave a mark. Do they think we don't know how to look after you?'

Lisa wearily realised there was an edge of resentment in the nurse's voice, as if she herself was responsible for the inventions in the papers—she who had seen no one and made no telephone calls. Or perhaps I'm just being oversensitive, she thought.

But she didn't think so. There was little doubt that all the staff now knew of Dane's ruling that she was not to see Julie, and had speculated as to the cause. Lurid newspaper stories wouldn't do her cause any good at all.

She was dozing after lunch when a slight sound aroused her and opening her eyes, she saw with amazement that James Dalton was standing beside her bed. He was carrying a bunch of flowers, which he proffered awkwardly.

'I'm sorry,' he said. They didn't tell me at the office that you were asleep.'

'They probably didn't know.' Lisa sat up, trying to smile. 'I—I feel rather a fraud, lying here in bed, when there's nothing really the matter with me.'

James made some stilted reply, then brought one of the chairs forward and sat down beside the bed. There was an expression of strain on his face.

After a pause, Lisa said with slight reserve, 'It's very kind of you to come to see me, James, but I don't think Celia…'

'To hell with Celia!' he interrupted with sudden controlled violence. 'I had to come. Lisa. I have to know the truth. There are so many rumours buzzing round, and I've got to pretend to stand aloof—not to care when I'm almost going out of my mind.' He looked at her with agony in his eyes. 'Is it true that Julie had a miscarriage?'

Lisa nodded slowly, and his breath escaped in a deep groan.

He said huskily, 'Oh God—was it my child? Did she ever say anything to you—about us?'

'She did confide in me—just before the accident,' Lisa said cautiously. 'She was rather upset. She said there'd been a quarrel.' She hesitated.

'Yes, we'd quarrelled.' James gave a mirthless laugh. 'I tried to tell her that we must stop seeing each other—that her marriage was going to change everything, of necessity. She seemed to think that our relationship could just continue as it always had done. I knew she didn't love Bain-bridge, and I tried to persuade her not to go through with it.'

'Why?' Lisa asked coolly. 'So that you, a married man, could keep Julie for your exclusive benefit? How nice for her!'

James winced. 'Yes—I suppose that was what I meant, even if I wasn't prepared to admit it. But I love her, Lisa. We love each other. She's my reason for living. I knew Bainbridge wasn't her lover, and then when I heard this rumour about the baby, and the engagement being off, everything seemed to fall into place. I knew I wouldn't be allowed to see her. I had to be careful in making enquiries unless it got back to Celia…'

'Oh, we must be careful for none of this to get back to Celia,' Lisa said scornfully. 'How are you going to explain your visit to me, may I ask?'

James shrugged helplessly. 'That, I don't know.' He paused. 'I know you despise me, Lisa. I can see it in your face. But I swear I had no idea that she was expecting my child.'

'Would it have made any difference?' Lisa asked quietly. 'You're still very much married to Celia.'

'I don't know,' James said wretchedly. 'But I know that the loss of the baby has made a world of difference. That's a paradox, isn't it, but it's true. Julie and I belong together, and never more so than now. I should have the right to be with her, to comfort her. I need that right, and by God, I'm going to have it.'

Lisa stared at him. 'You mean you'd be prepared to leave Celia—give up the good life?' she asked rather cynically, and he flushed.

'The only good thing in my life has been Julie. I let myself be dependent on Celia because I didn't really care what happened to me. But I could make out on my own. I was happy when we were in Africa. I had a job there I was good at.' His lips tightened. 'Celia wasn't in control then. I think that's why she insisted on coming home, rather than the threat of some non-existent revolution, because she wanted to have the whip hand as she'd always been used to. Well, she's wielded that whip for the last time. If she won't agree to a divorce, then we 11 wait and obtain one without her consent. There's no reason for anyone to be tied to a failed marriage these days.'

Lisa gave him a long look. There was no doubting his sincerity, but why hadn't he thought of this at the beginning of their affair? It was probably significant that it was the loss of the baby that had made him contemplate the destruction of his secure existence as Celia's husband. Hadn't Julie said that Celia had taunted him over their own childlessness, blaming him for it? Might it not be Julie proving Celia wrong once and for all which had tipped the scales in her favour? If so, this was a fragile foundation for their future happiness.

But that, Lisa told herself, is none of my business. There'll be one hell of a row, but they have their own lives to lead. Surely they can't make much more of a mess of them than they have done already.

James leaned forward and took her hand. He said urgently, 'Lisa, listen to me, can you get along to see Julie. Can you give her a message?'

Lisa shook her head. 'It's impossible. I'm not allowed to see Julie. You see, she was driving me to Leeds to catch a train when the accident happened, and they think I'm to blame…'

'They think?' James gave her an incredulous look. 'I can't believe Charles Riderwood could be such a fool. The worst anyone could say about you is that you were reckless to have hitched a ride with her, because she must be the world's worst driver.'

Lisa bent her head. 'Nevertheless there's an embargo on my seeing her.'

James's face was dismayed. 'Then what am I going to do?' he muttered, half to himself.

'I'm sure you'll think of something,' Lisa assured him drily. 'The pair of you have managed quite well up to now.'

'Yes.' James seemed oblivious to the sarcastic note in her voice. 'Perhaps if I wrote a note, I could ask one of the nurses to give it to her.' He paused and looked at Lisa. 'You still think I'm a pretty poor specimen, don't you, but I'll make it all up to her, Lisa, I swear I will.' His voice broke suddenly, and he bent forward, burying his face in the crisp coverlet. He said, 'I've never felt like this before about anyone. You must believe me.'

Lisa looked down at his ruffled fair head with a faint despair. She touched his hair tentatively.

'I believe you,' she said gently.

It was the faintest sound—no more than an indrawn breath—that alerted her to the fact that they were not alone. She glanced up, startled. The door to her room stood open, and Dane was standing there as if frozen.

Over James's bent head, their eyes met, hers with a kind of defiant pleading, his bleak with incredulity and contempt.

Then as silently as he had appeared, he was gone, the door closed between them with total finality.

CHAPTER TEN

'A nice kettle of fish this has turned out to be!' Myra said accusingly. She and Jos sat on either side of Lisa's bed, their faces full of affectionate concern, and gradually the deep chill inside Lisa began to thaw.

'It's so wonderful to see you both—such a surprise,' she said.

'Not half as much of a surprise as I got when I opened the papers this morning,' Jos said grimly. 'I telephoned the hospital at once. Didn't they give you my message?'

Lisa shook her head. 'I don't really think I'm their favourite patient at the moment. I'm here because this is a private ward, and my stepfather's paying for me to be looked after, but they think I'm a perfectly well lady with a gift for self-dramatisation.'

'Cheek!' Myra said indignantly. She gave the strip of sticking plaster adorning Lisa's forehead an anxious look. 'What's underneath that?'

'Not a lot,' Lisa assured her, her lips widening into her first genuine smile.

'Thank God for that,' Myra said promptly, and sat back.

'What a great diplomat the world lost in you, darling,' Jos gibed. He smiled at Lisa. There'll be no permanent damage. I suppose they've told you that.'

'Oh, yes—Dr Simms has been very reassuring. I just wish I could care more,' Lisa said with a brief sigh.

'Hey!' Jos ran a finger down her cheek. 'We'll do the caring. You just concentrate on getting well. You're one of my meal tickets, remember.'

'One of the many,' Lisa countered, and they grinned at each other with understanding.