His Diamond Bride (11 page)

‘Are you saying—?'

‘She made the running. I wouldn't have dared.'

Dee stared, barely able to believe what she was hearing.
‘So when you and she…she was the one who…? But I don't understand. She was always so strait-laced, saying we must be “good girls” and the way she acted when Sylvia went away with Phil—'

‘People often do that,' Joe observed. ‘Talk one way, act another. It was Sylvia's disappearing that she really minded, and the fact that she went off with a married man. She'd have forgiven her the other thing, because it was what she did herself. She told me later that she was determined to start a baby so that I'd have to stop dithering like a twerp and make my mind up,' Joe said with pride. ‘She really loved me, you see.'

‘Yes, she did,' Dee agreed.

‘And when you've found the right one, do what you have to. So you get on with it, girl. And don't you worry about your mum and me. We'll be all right here together.'

Armed with Joe's encouragement, she began staying overnight at the hospital, sleeping in the Nurses' Home so that she could spend as much time with Mark as possible. She fed him, changed his dressings, soothed him when he half awoke, listened to his soft moans at night.

Gradually the amount of painkiller he needed lessened, and he began to sleep more peacefully. The bandages were removed from his head, and Dee marvelled at how little he seemed to have changed. The burns on his body were terrible, but his face was undamaged. To the outside world he would seem the same handsome young man he had always been, a little older, a little more weather-beaten, but basically the same. Yet this was an illusion. The damage might be hidden, but it was there.

She checked his pulse, wondering if he would awaken soon, and would he still ask who she was? Would she be nothing but the nurse who cared for him, without individuality, no different from any other? Would he even recognise her as that?

He stirred and she laid his hand down on the sheet, waiting until at last he opened his eyes, looking straight into hers.

‘Hello,' he whispered.

‘Hello.' She sat beside him, smiling and trying to seem cheerful.

‘Where am I?'

She gave him the name of the hospital, wondering if he would recognise it as the one where she worked, but he said nothing. ‘You've been here nearly a week,' she added.

‘What happened to me?'

‘You crashed. I'm afraid you're badly burned. Are you in pain now?'

‘No, I just feel dizzy. I don't know anything.' He gazed at her intently. ‘You've been looking after me, haven't you?'

‘You remember that?'

‘I know I've seen you somewhere before. You're Nurse—?'

‘Nurse Parsons,' she said.

‘Oh, yes—you were always there—and someone else—I'm trying to remember—did anyone come to visit me while I was unconscious?'

‘Your commanding officer came, and a couple of your comrades looked in. I couldn't let them stay long. They just wanted to see for themselves that you're alive.'

‘Nobody else?' he whispered, and she wondered if she only imagined that his voice was full of hope.

‘Nobody else. Was there someone else you wanted to see? Can I find them for you?'

He sighed softly. ‘Thanks, but no. She wouldn't want you to.'

‘You don't know that,' Dee said quickly. ‘If she's a good friend, who cares what happens to you—'

‘A good friend,' he echoed with a wry smile. ‘She was the best friend I had, but I didn't know it.'

‘But if you know it now, perhaps she'd like to hear you say so.'

‘I doubt it. Where she was concerned, I talked too much and said all the wrong things—did all the wrong things, too. She was glad to be rid of me.'

‘You can't be sure of that.'

‘I can. She despised me. She made that very clear.'

‘She probably didn't mean it that way.'

‘When a woman tells a man to go and jump in the lake, there's no doubt what she means.'

‘She actually used those words?'

‘Words that meant the same. She dressed it up, practically made it sound as though I was the one breaking it off, but that was just her way of smoothing things. The truth is, she despised me.' He gave a sigh. ‘And she may have been right.'

‘No, she didn't despise you.'

‘You can't know that.'

Then inspiration came to her. Turning the lights out so that there was only the one small bedside lamp, she returned to sit beside him, turning so that her face was in shadow. Perhaps now she looked no more than a shadowy presence, and that might be the trigger.

‘But I do know that,' she said.

He stared at her, startled. ‘What do you know?'

‘Everything she knows. You'll understand soon, when the drugs wear off.'

‘Dee? Is that really you? I think…I'm beginning to understand now. Put the light on.'

She shook her head. ‘Better not.' She didn't want him to see how shaken she was, eyes brimming in relief, that he had finally recognized her again.

‘You're right,' he said after a moment. ‘It's strange how I know you now that I can't see you properly.'

‘You never did see me properly,' she murmured.

‘What do you mean by that?'

‘Nothing,' she said quickly. ‘It's all in the past now. We're
not really the same people that we were then. When did we last see each other? A year ago?'

‘Longer,' he murmured. ‘Much longer. It seems to stretch back for ever, into another life—'

‘I know, it feels like that to me too, but it's just a year. So much has happened since.'

Tentatively, he stretched out his hand and she took it between hers. ‘I've sometimes dreamed that it was you,' he said huskily. ‘I've even tried to pretend that it was—but I told myself I was being foolish because you must still be angry with me.'

‘I was never angry with you.'

‘You gave me back my ring.'

‘Not from anger. I just thought our paths were leading away from each other. We're still friends.'

‘Are we? When I was injured, I was sure you'd come to me at once. When you didn't, I knew you hadn't forgiven me.'

‘But I did come to you, as soon as I heard you were here. You were unconscious, so I sat and talked to you, praying for you to wake, but then you did wake and you didn't know me. You asked who I was. I said I was Dee but that meant nothing to you. The accident had wiped me from your memory.'

‘No, nothing could do that. I've been in a dream. You were there, yet you weren't. I could hear you talking to me, saying things that—'

‘Yes?'

He screwed up his eyes as though fighting an inner battle.

‘I don't know,' he said desperately. ‘They made me happy but when I awoke, I couldn't remember them. Was it you? Did you really say everything I heard?'

‘How can I tell?' she said lightly. ‘Since I don't know what you heard.'

‘It was…it was…oh, dear God!' He closed his eyes desperately. ‘Tell me. Say it again so that I'll know.'

‘Not just now,' she said gently. ‘You're going to be here for some time, and we'll take it step by step.'

‘But you'll be here, too? You will, won't you?' His grip was tight enough to be painful.

‘Yes, I'll be here. Hey, don't break my fingers or I'll be no use.'

He released her at once, letting his hand fall on the blanket in a way she would have called helpless if it had been any other man. Now his expression was resigned and she knew he'd accepted her words and manner as a rejection. If only she could take him into her arms and tell him of her love, which was stronger than ever. But instinct told her he wasn't strong enough to stand it right now. There would be a long road until he was ready, but they would travel that road together and discover where it led.

Now it was she who set the terms, guiding him through the days that followed as a friend and nurse, but with no hint of a lover, and had the satisfaction of seeing him relax and allow himself to be cared for. It hurt to see him so docile and unlike his old vibrant, cocky self, but it helped her take charge, which she was determined to do.

Now she was sleeping in the Nurses' Home, she could slip in to see him at night, staying with him in the semi-darkness, sometimes talking, sometimes silent. It was on one of these nights that she told him about Sylvia and Helen.

‘Did that man ever marry her?' he asked.

‘No, he couldn't get a divorce. In fact, I went to the street where they'd been living and spoke to some of the neighbours who'd survived the bombing, and they seemed to think he was planning to go back to his wife.'

‘Poor Sylvia,' he said huskily. ‘She deserved better. Did you ever see the baby?'

‘Yes, he was in her arms when we buried them. She had nothing left to live for. I still find it hard to take in. When we were children she was so glorious, she was like queen
of the world. She was going to have everything; we all thought so.'

Mark didn't answer directly but he looked sad, and she wondered what memories were troubling him now. But she would never ask. After a while, she bid him goodnight and crept away.

He'd been lucky in that the third-degree burns were on the front of his body where the fire had exploded. The seat had partly protected his back until he'd managed to fight his way out and collapse, which was good, Dee thought thankfully, because if his back had been in the same appalling state as his front he could never have lain down.

His chest was a mass of dark red blisters which she would anoint gently, trying not to hurt him, although she knew that there would be a certain amount of nerve damage that would save him from some of the pain. Sometimes Mr Royce would come in and stand watching before inviting her outside to discuss the case.

‘He's doing well,' he told her. ‘But there's only so far that his condition can improve. An Air Force doctor will be coming to see him soon.'

‘They're not trying to get him back?' she asked, scandalised.

‘Quite the reverse. I think they'll judge him unfit to return to the Force in any capacity.'

‘Thank God!' she said fervently.

He regarded her for a moment. ‘It matters that much?' he asked at last.

‘I hate patching them up so that they can go and get killed,' she said defensively. ‘At least he's one that will live.'

He was giving her a look she didn't understand and she escaped quickly back into Mark's room. She found him lying still, with a shadow in his eyes.

‘When shall I congratulate you?' he asked.

‘What do you mean? I'm not due for promotion for ages.'

‘You're due for promotion to Mrs Royce, very soon.'

‘Will you stop talking nonsense?'

‘I know what I see. That man's in love with you.'

‘Nonsense! He's a kind person who's gone out of his way to help me.'

But then she remembered Mr Royce's strange look a moment ago, the trouble he'd always taken to discover news of Mark. Did he do this for everyone? How could there be time? And if it was just for her—why?

‘He must be twenty years older than me,' she protested. ‘More.'

‘So what? He's strong, mature, settled. He can offer you a position in the world. You were made to be a successful man's wife. He's in love with you.'

‘You're making fun of me. You couldn't possibly tell.'

‘I can, easily. When a man gets that look in his eyes, it means just one thing.'

‘It's not like you to be fanciful.'

‘It wasn't,' he sighed. ‘But maybe it is now. What is “like me”, Dee? You tell me, because I don't know any more. At night I lie here and listen to the things in my head, and I don't know what to make of them. Nothing is the way I thought. Everything is different, but I don't know what it all means. Can't you tell me?'

‘My dear,' she said gently, ‘how can I tell you when I've never been there, seen the things you've seen—?'

‘Done the things I've done,' he finished for her. ‘You're right. It must remain a mystery, more to me than anyone. But—' he assumed a cheerful air, as though forcing himself to rally ‘—I won't let you distract me from Mr Royce. Any day now, he'll propose, mark my words.'

‘Will you stop talking nonsense, please?' she asked crisply. ‘I want to finish your dressing.'

‘But you—'

‘Keep still and
keep quiet,
' she said, with a sharpness rare in her.

He did so, but continued to study her curiously. She finished the job and departed as soon as she could.

Deny it as she might, she was left with the uncomfortable feeling that Mark had seen something that had entirely escaped her. And the next time she talked with Mr Royce she felt uneasy, wondering what he was thinking. When their meeting ended she began to walk away, then looked back to say something and found him still watching her with an unguarded look.

The Air Force doctor made two visits and examined Mark thoroughly, especially his damaged hand. The verdict came by letter two days later.

‘Invalided out,' Mark groaned, showing her the letter in disgust. ‘Useless!'

He tried to flex his hand, whose limited movement had proved his undoing, more than the burns to his chest.

‘You'd have had a hard time controlling a plane with that,' Dee said. ‘They had to do this. At least they'll allow you something to live on.'

‘A pension, you mean,' he said in disgust. ‘That says all that needs to be said. I'm a pensioner.'

It was Joe who cheered him up slightly. He'd paid several visits, and the next day he dropped in again.

‘I hate to admit it,' he said, glancing over the letter, ‘but this is good news for me. I haven't been able to find a decent replacement for you in the garage. They're either useless or they leave. But now you can come back, and I'll be glad to have you. We can put you up in the house, so you won't have a journey to work.'