Promise Made (13 page)

‘Did you want me?' he asked. ‘Is there something I can do?'

‘We're going to have a wheelchair race,' the man said. ‘I'm Roger – and I think you're Emily Vane's brother, aren't you?'

‘Connor. I'm staying with her for a couple of weeks.'

‘Good.' Roger grinned at him. ‘You can push me round the lawn for a start just to get the hang of it. My driver has gone home for the weekend, lucky blighter – but you'll do if you're game?'

‘Yeah.' Connor grinned at him, the last vestige of shyness gone. ‘Yeah, I'd like that, sir. I'll have to have a practice first or I shall let you down.'

‘Nonsense,' Roger said in a rallying tone. ‘A strong lad like you will have no problem. We're up against Nurse Rose and she is a terrier, but the others aren't much competition. Get me over to the lawn and I'll soon have you driving like a veteran . . .'

After the race, Connor couldn't believe they had won. His strength and enthusiasm had finally told over Nurse Rose, who had been breathing heavily by the time they had been round the building twice. She had been laughing as she came up to him, congratulating him on the victory.

‘It's beginner's luck, of course,' she teased, ‘but you did well, Connor. I think we should all go and celebrate with a cup of tea and some orange squash.'

Connor smiled and agreed, feeling pleased with himself, but he looked down at Roger as he touched his arm and winked.

‘We'll have a drop of something better than squash in my room,' he said and grinned. ‘We have to celebrate properly, Connor. That's the first time I've managed to beat Nurse Rose.'

Connor sensed that Roger fancied the nurse, who was young and pretty, and his throat felt tight as he wondered if his new friend would ever be able to have a normal relationship with a woman. He thought it must be hell to be stuck in a chair like that without hope.

‘Yeah, sure,' he said easily, hiding his emotion. ‘Do you mind me asking what service you were in?'

‘Flight Officer Ransom!' Roger saluted smartly. ‘Shot down over the coast and damned lucky to be alive. I should have died when the kite went down. Anything is better than that, Connor – and don't forget it. Live for the moment, lad! Once you're in one of those bloody boxes you're done for. I'm alive and I live every day to the full.'

‘Yeah,' Connor said. ‘Right. See what you mean. Nurse Rose is a smasher, isn't she?'

‘We're all a little in love with her,' Roger told him. ‘Most of us are in love with your sister too – but she is untouchable. Some of the nurses aren't, if you see what I mean?' He winked at Connor. ‘I might be half a man but I've still got all my tackle. I can manage a crafty one now and then – and one or two of them aren't above obliging me. Unfortunately, Nurse Rose isn't one of them – but we live in hope.'

Connor laughed. Roger was a bit of a devil despite the loss of his legs and he admired him, liked him a lot. He wheeled the chair into the house, taking his directions from his passenger. It was interesting to get to know someone like Roger and he was beginning to understand why Emily didn't have time to visit her family often.

Emily stretched her shoulders as she left the home the following morning. She had been with one of the patients for most of the night, and it had ended badly. She had held his hand towards the end, but he'd suffered despite all they had done to ease him and she was feeling the grief of his death.

As she walked up to the house, she saw Connor coming towards her. He was grinning and she saw that he had a football in his hand. She knew that the men had been planning a wheelchair football match that day, though she doubted that most of them would feel much like it after last night. The screams of the dying man must have been heard all over the home.

‘Are you going to see someone?' Emily asked, because she had a feeling she knew who Connor was hoping to meet.

‘Roger asked me to bring this,' Connor said. ‘We're going to have a football match. I'm not sure how we do it, but he will show me. He's great, Emily. He told me loads of stuff about his life yesterday. He went through hell when his plane came down and yet he is so cheerful. I really like him.'

Emily reached out and laid a restraining hand on his arm. ‘I don't think the match will go ahead,' she told him. ‘Perhaps another day – but not this morning.'

‘Why? We had a great time with the race yesterday and it isn't raining.'

‘Someone died last night,' Emily told him. She drew a deep breath, because she knew this was going to shock and perhaps hurt him. ‘I'm sorry, Connor. I am afraid it was Roger . . .'

‘Roger?' Connor stared at her in disbelief. ‘No, I don't believe it. You must have it wrong. Roger couldn't have died . . . he was full of it yesterday.'

‘That's how it goes sometimes,' Emily told him, a catch in her voice. ‘We thought, hoped he was getting better. We even had hope that he might go home soon – but it wasn't to be.'

‘Why did he die?' Connor felt his throat close. ‘Was it because of the race yesterday? Was it too much for him?'

‘I don't think so. The change came very suddenly last night.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘He was in a lot of pain towards the end,' Emily said, because there was no point in lying to him. ‘He was healing outwardly, but his liver was failing because of an internal injury. We had hoped that the medication might help, but something went wrong and . . .' She shook her head. ‘I'm not sure the doctors truly know why, Connor. It's something that happens at times, to patients who have suffered severe trauma. We get a lot of successes, and when we can send someone home it all seems wonderful – but this is the other side of the coin. Some of the men are never going to leave here alive.'

Connor nodded. He could feel something hurting in his chest and he wanted to weep, but he couldn't in front of his sister. He walked away from her, bouncing the football because he needed something to relieve the tension. He could hardly believe that Roger was dead. He was such a brave man, so full of life, determined to make the most of what he had – and it was damned unfair!

It was like his father all over again, Connor thought, his teeth grinding in frustration. He wanted to hit out at something, to take out his frustration and anger on something . . . anything.

‘Make the most of life,' a voice seemed to say in his head. ‘Use every day because life is sweet . . . once you're in those bloody boxes you're done for.'

Connor blinked back his tears. Roger hadn't deserved to die like that, but there was nothing he could have done to change things. Behaving like an idiot and inflicting damage on someone else's property wouldn't bring Roger back.

He decided he would go back to the home anyway. Maybe the men wouldn't feel like playing football, but there might be something he could do to help. He could write letters for those who couldn't see, and he could fetch things from the village – anything they wanted. It hurt like hell to think of Roger being put into one of those damned boxes, but he would never forget him.

Connor left the house by one of the side entrances, feeling that he couldn't stand being cooped up indoors any longer. He was restless, disturbed by Roger's death and unable to make small talk with Vane's wife. Amelia was all right in tiny doses, but he didn't know how Emily could bear to live in the same house as her.

He walked for a few minutes, lost in thought, and then he stopped, fished a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit one. He drew the smoke into his lungs before blowing little circles, because it helped to settle the swirling emotions inside him. Life was so damned unfair!

‘I've always wanted to do that,' a voice said out of the gloom. ‘Have you got a cigarette to spare?'

Connor recognized the voice, although he couldn't see her clearly at first. She walked towards him and now he could see that she had changed out of her uniform into a skirt and red twinset, her hair swinging loose on her shoulders. In her uniform she was pretty stunning, but that twinset outlined her breasts in a way that made Connor aware of a fierce urge somewhere deep down inside.

‘Yes, of course,' he said in a gruff voice that didn't sound like his own. He took the packet from his pocket and offered it to her, his throat constricting with desire as she selected a thin white tube and inserted it between lips that had been painted to match the colour of her cardigan. ‘I'll light it for you, Rose.' He flicked the lighter he had recently bought, pleased with himself because his hand was steady even though he was shaking inside.

‘Thank you,' Rose said and smiled up at him. ‘Did you feel the need for air too?'

‘Yeah . . .' It was all Connor could do to keep from groaning. He had never felt this way before. He wanted her so badly that it made his groin ache, but he knew that she would never look at him. Roger had told him that Rose wasn't one of the nurses who sometimes obliged him. ‘Yeah, I can't stand being cooped up too long . . .'

Rose came nearer. The scent of her perfume was tantalizing, wafting under his nose and making him even more aware of his need. She was standing too close now. What the hell did she think she was doing?

Rose put one hand on his shoulder, a little smile on her lips as she looked into his eyes. ‘Why don't you kiss me?' she asked. ‘You want to, don't you?'

Connor swallowed hard. ‘I didn't think you would . . .' he began but the words were lost as she moved in even closer, her lips seeking his softly. He felt the shudders run through him, and he slid an arm around her, holding her tight against his body, his hungry mouth devouring hers. Rose wriggled and he let go, feeling uncertain, but she was still smiling.

‘Steady, my love,' she whispered, a gleam in her eye. ‘You're not eating me. Let me show you how to give pleasure. Open your mouth a little . . .' Connor stood as if mesmerized as she put her lips to his again, teasing them with the tip of her tongue, and then plunging inside his mouth to explore its warmth. ‘That's better,' she whispered, giving them both a moment to breathe. ‘Just do what I do and we'll progress from there . . .'

Her hand moved over his chest, sliding down his body until she found the hardness of his erection, fondling him gently over his trousers in a way that he had previously only dreamed of, making him groan because it was so good. He put out a tentative hand, caressing her breast, enjoying the feel of its pertness, the peaked nipples tight against the wool, because she wasn't wearing anything underneath. He experienced a thrill of pleasure that made him gasp.

‘Would you like to make love to me, Connor?' Rose asked. ‘Go all the way?'

‘Yeah,' he growled. ‘Damn it, I don't know how. You'll have to teach me, Rose . . . the same as kissing . . .'

‘Yes, I know,' she said and her eyes were filled with soft laughter, as though she were enjoying the situation. ‘I'm your first, aren't I?' Connor nodded, torn between need and embarrassment. ‘That's all the better,' Rose said. ‘Don't be shy and don't worry about it, Connor. I like you and I'll show you how to make this good for us both . . .'

‘But where?' Connor asked. ‘And why me?'

‘Too many questions,' Rose said, touching a finger to her lips. ‘Just take what's offered, Connor. Sometimes you can wait too long and then it is suddenly too late.'

‘Yeah,' he said, and suddenly he knew. He knew why it was him, and why it was now, but it didn't matter. Rose needed him as much as he needed her, and it was going to be fine.

Emily drove Connor to the station. He was wearing the grey flannels she had bought him and a tweed jacket. He looked so grown up and serious that it almost broke her heart.

‘I'm wishing I didn't have to part with you,' she said. ‘You've been so good helping out, Connor. Vane says he would be happy to give you a job on the estate if you wanted it.'

‘That's decent of him,' Connor said and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. ‘I've enjoyed being here, Emily – but I want to get home. I'm not cut out for the kind of thing Vane has offered me. Yes, he did mention that he might take me on. He said I could work in the estate office, learn about the management of a place like this, but I told him I had plans for the future. He wanted to know more about it. I explained that I want to buy back the land that was Dad's and I think he understood. He said it was good to be loyal to your father – and he wished me well.'

‘Yes, he would. I'm proud of you,' Emily said, looking at him affectionately. ‘I've really enjoyed having you here, getting to know you better. You'll get your farm one day, Connor. I know you will.'

There was something different about him this morning, though she wasn't sure what had made that difference. It was almost as if he had become a man, leaving his childhood behind him.

‘If I don't, I'll make the most of what I do,' he said, and then grinned. ‘But I shall get the farm back, Emily. Sam Danby bought most of the fields. I'll buy them back from him – and I'll buy more land. I'll build up everything Dad had and more.'

Emily nodded. She wanted to hug him, but she knew that this new wisdom was very fragile. He had learned some good lessons on his visit here, but he was still a young lad. He had a lot of living and learning to do – but she believed that he would get his land one day.

She stood back and watched as he got into the train, waving to him as it chugged slowly out of the station. Her eyes were wet with tears and she stood watching for a long time, until it had disappeared out of sight. Connor had brought back a lot of memories.

Six

‘Oh, hello,' Frances said as she opened her door to Daniel one morning in October. ‘I was just about to put the kettle on – if you have time to stop for a cup?'