by Nesta Tuomey
For the next few days Claire was too concerned about Terry and Sheena to be able to concentrate on anything else. She spent all her time at the hospital. Antonio proposed to keep Ruthie with them until Jane arrived at the end of the week.
‘I fear Stella is becoming a trifle heavy with so much chocolate,’ Fernando opined dryly, ‘but otherwise the love affair still flourishes.’
Claire smiled, more than glad that Ruthie was in such good care. Fernando offered to pick her up each day and drive her to the hospital, though she feared she was too distracted by her own worries to be much company. Fernando, however, bore Claire’s preoccupation stoically and never referred to what she had told him as they sat by Terry’s bedside, although she suspected it was very much on his mind.
One afternoon Fernando picked up Claire earlier than usual. When he had parked before the hospital and cut the engine, he drew a sharp breath as though about to say something of importance, then dried up again as his courage failed him.
‘What is it, Fernando?’ Claire asked, resigned to having it out.
‘Claire,’ he said glumly, ‘The time has come when we must put into words the emotions we feel for each other.’
‘Yes, perhaps we should talk,’ Claire agreed.
‘You must know I love you,’ Fernando said without preamble. ‘What you told me in confidence has made no difference to my feelings for you. I think I loved you from the first moment I saw you in my father’s office.’ He gave a despairing shake of his head and continued almost to himself, ‘Standing there like some beautiful angel.’
The romantic speech was so like what she had come to expect from Fernando that Claire could not help smiling. He returned the smile doubtfully, uncertain whether it boded him good or ill.
‘Can you really mean it when you say my pregnancy makes no difference to you?’ Claire asked slowly.
In answer Fernando seized her hand and kissed it.
‘But what if I told you I still loved the man,’ Claire posed.
‘And do you?’ he asked, with a pained expression in his dark eyes.
‘I don’t know. Sometimes I think I do and then again I’m not sure.’ Claire sighed, then bravely met his eyes. ‘Either way it’s over.’
‘Forget this man,’ Fernando commanded. ‘I will make you happy as you deserve to be happy.’
Claire regarded him curiously. ‘And what about your happiness... surely you could not easily give your name to another man’s child?’
‘Sí. If you were that child’s mother,’ Fernando said simply.
Claire was moved by his answer. ‘Thank you, Fernan,’ she said, and leaned across to kiss him. His sombre eyes regarded her intensely.
‘My mother loved you very much,’ Fernando’s voice trembled with emotion.
Claire glanced away, remembering how desperately the Spanish woman had struggled, even on the point of death, to ensure that she and Fernando would marry. She felt, with a terrible impending sense of loss, that if she gave up Fernando she would be giving up Elena too. She felt cast adrift on the flood of her emotion and she turned her head and gazed helplessly into Fernando’s dark eyes.
‘Please, Fernan,’ she whispered, her voice catching and breaking. ‘Please give me a little more time.’
Although his physical injuries were more serious than Sheena’s, Terry recovered quicker than his twin and was soon able to get out of bed, although it was a while before he felt well enough to go beyond his room.
He did not expect to be discharged until his mother arrived, but his compassionate leave was almost up and he would need to supply a medical certificate to the Air Corps if he was to be away much longer. He glanced in the mirror and carefully eased aside the neck bandage to inspect his wound, wishing he knew when the doctor would pay him a visit. Usually stitches were removed after five days, Terry mused, but that wasn’t until next day. He tied the belt on his dressing gown and went wandering down the corridor in search of a nurse.
‘Si. The doctor will be making his rounds tomorrow,’ the pretty olive-skinned nurse assured him warmly. All the nurses vied with each other in their efforts to look after the handsome young Irishman. They had been warned, besides, to give every care and cooperation to the good friends of Señor Gonzalez.
‘Any chance of seeing him today?’ Terry smiled, exerting his charm. ‘It’s rather urgent.’
‘Certainly.’ She returned his smile and lifted the phone. She was not much older than Terry and one of his most ardent admirers. ‘The doctor is on his way,’ she told him a moment later. Terry nodded his thanks and wandered over to look at a framed print of the entrance to the Nerja caves.
The doctor arrived within minutes, his stethoscope swinging about his neck. He walked back with Terry to his room, where he gave him a quick examination and pronounced his wound to be healing satisfactorily.
‘You’ll need to take things easy for a couple of weeks,’ he advised. ‘The stitches can come out tomorrow, but you are not fit enough to resume flying yet. I will give you a certificate to cover you with your commanding officer.’
‘Thanks.’ Terry grinned in relief. Actually, he didn’t feel all that great. His body felt as if it had been used as a punch bag and then deprived of its stuffing. He suddenly felt weak and sat down on the side of the bed after the doctor had gone and was just about to collapse back under the covers when there was a tap on the door. Terry’s spirits lifted as Claire came in.
He was relieved to see that for once she was without her faithful shadow. While he was willing to concede that old San Fernando wasn’t such a bad guy in the light of all the Spaniard had done to find Sheena, as well as practically saving his own life, a little of him went a long way. He grinned and patted a space beside him on the bed.
‘Come and sit down.’
Claire smiled and obeyed.
‘I’m getting out in another few days,’ he told her.
‘What about Sheena?’
‘We won’t know until Mum gets here.’
‘I looked in on her just now,’ Claire said, ‘but Nurse Lewis was taking her temperature and said to drop back in a few minutes. Sheena seems a bit better,’ she went on doubtfully, ‘but I think she’s still terrified of Miguel finding her.’
‘He won’t bother her anymore,’ Terry said at last. ‘Or anyone else for that matter.’
Claire asked slowly, ‘What did happen that night, Terry?’
Terry looked away. ‘He pulled a knife,’ he said soberly. ‘He was saying terrible things about Shee and I belted him and then suddenly he was slashing away. We struggled and he slipped and toppled into the gorge.’
Claire shuddered. ‘It was very deep, wasn’t it? Eighty or ninety metres.’
‘Hope it broke his bloody neck,’ Terry said fiercely. ‘The bloody bastard deserved a lot worse.’
Claire was silent, oppressed by the memory of Sheena, whimpering and demoralised, and was afraid to think what dreadful things had been done to her. She sat with mouth trembling.
Terry impulsively put his arms about her. ‘Oh Claire, thank God we found her,’ he said, his voice shaking with emotion. ‘Only think if we hadn’t come when we did.’
At that Claire began to cry. She lay against his chest and sobbed and he put his hand in her silky hair that he remembered so well and still dreamed about at night, and at the sweet touch of her, his body melted and became weak with desire. As she turned in his arms and looked up at him, her face desolate and streaked with tears, he was carried away by his fierce longing for her and, in desperation, pressed his mouth on hers.
For one long moment they clung together, flesh and souls in sweet accord, and his arousal was quick and strong and satisfying. Then she pulled back and stared at him, almost in horror.
‘No, Terry, no!’
He stared bewildered as she ran out of the room, leaving the door swinging open behind her. He felt his excitement die and his spirit became leaden with despair.
Claire went fleeing down the corridor anxi
ous to put distance between herself and Terry. The range of emotions fired by his touch left her dizzy and trembling, but she told herself that such physical feelings had led her astray in the past and were not to be relied upon. She found sanctuary in Sheena’s room.
Sheena lay quite still beneath the sheet. She looked scrubbed clean, but there was a despairing look in her normally merry brown eyes. Claire forgot her own troubles in a rush of anger and pity. Sheena had always been so gay and carefree that this total eclipse of her bright spirit was shocking.
Claire sat on the bed and gently held Sheena’s hand. It lay hot and inert between both of hers. ‘Are you feeling any better?’ she asked shyly.
Sheena shook her head.
‘Oh, but you will,’ Claire said, anxious to believe it. ‘Every day it will get easier.’ Sheena’s eyes brimmed and she turned her head away on the pillow.
‘As soon as you get back home you’ll forget all this and start again,’ Claire told her. ‘There’s lots of things to look forward to once college begins in October.’
Sheena’s mouth wobbled. ‘I can’t bear the thought of going back and facing everyone.’
Claire looked at her in compassion.
‘I feel it’s written all over me... you know... what they...’ She began to cry brokenly.
‘Don’t, please don’t,’ Claire begged.
‘I feel I have no worth anymore,’ Sheena sobbed. ‘I feel dirty... used.’
‘With time that will lessen,’ Claire said in distress. ‘You have to believe it.’
Sheena sat up in the bed with a wild look in her eyes. ‘For God’s sake, Claire, what do you know about any of it?’ she cried. ‘You were always such a model girl. You haven’t got the first clue about life.’
Claire sat with her head bowed. Oh, but I do, I do, she thought. What if I were to tell you?
Ruthie stuffed her wash-bag on top of her clothes and zipped the bag shut, glad to be going home to the apartment. Though she had liked living in the big house with the fountain in the garden and the wonderful Stella to play with, she was lonely for Sheena and Claire and was excited now at the thought of driving to the airport in the shiny Mercedes to meet her mother.
Ruthie picked up the bag by its strap and ran down the wide staircase to where Fernando awaited her in the front hall. He looked up at her approach.
‘You are all packed?’ he asked with a smile. He had grown fond of the little girl in the week she had stayed with them. With her shining blonde mane of hair and her wide-eyed innocent look, she reminded him of Claire.
‘Sí,’ Ruthie responded, trotting out the phrase she had been practising all morning. ‘Me ha dado una visita muy agradable.’ She delighted at Fernando’s exaggerated amazement.
‘Muy bien,’ he praised and held out his hand. ‘Come my little one, let us say farewell to Stella.’
Ruthie put her hand trustingly in his and Fernando led her out to the garden. Today he was even smarter than usual, dressed in a pale grey suit which hung well on his graceful figure. And, as usual when meeting Claire, he had gone through several changes of shirts and ties before finding the combination which satisfied him. He was watching Ruthie feeding his Labrador a square of chocolate when his father came out of the house and stood on the patio, looking down at them.
Antonio, like his son, wore a light coloured mohair suit and a red carnation splashed colour in his buttonhole. He strolled across the lawn to join them and stood smiling at Ruthie’s antics.
‘La hermanita will be greatly missed,’ he said softly.
Fernando nodded. It was exactly what he had been thinking. All week their house had been undeniably more cheerful since his mother’s death.
‘Se we are on our way to the airport,’ Antonio said cheerfully.
‘We?’ Fernando enquired.
Antonio laughed boyishly. ‘I have decided to come with you. I feel it is fitting that we go as a family to welcome Señora McArdle.’
Fernando looked at his father more closely and noticed his freshly barbered chin and the flower in his lapel. Could it be that his father’s interest in la medica irlandesa was other than strictly business? he wondered in amazement.
Jane’s tense expression lightened at the sight of the young people waiting for her as she came off the flight, and became positively ecstatic when her gaze moved on to take in Antonio, hovering awkwardly in the rear. She warmly embraced the girls and put out her hand to Fernando.
‘How good it is to be back,’ she said, looking as if she might embrace him too. ‘Thank you for finding Sheena and taking such good care of my family.’
Fernando bowed over her hand, embarrassed by her gratitude. ‘De nada, Señora. It was a pleasure.’
Jane looked beyond him to his father and met Antonio’s eyes. ‘You have no idea what it means to me to see you here,’ she told him softly. He returned her gaze with a look so charged with feeling that Jane felt like a young girl again. ‘He cares for me,’ her heart suddenly sang within her. ‘Ah, but how he cares for me!’
Ruthie cuddled next to Jane in the back of the car, inhaling her mother’s scent and possessively fingering her bracelets. She couldn’t get close enough, and was clingy as a monkey. Jane laughingly indulged her, while eyeing the back of Antonio’s head, her ears finely tuned to catch the murmured conversation he was sharing with his son.
Claire sat at Jane’s other side, making no claims on her. She had noticed Fernando’s keen glance as mother and daughter had walked out of the arrivals area, closely linked. Clearly, he understood that while Claire might be like another daughter to Jane, in this instance, she must take second place to Ruthie. Claire was struck anew by how much she had to lose if she rejected him. Remembering the blaze of love in his eyes when he came to collect her at the apartment, she wondered how long it would be before he insisted on receiving an answer to his proposal.
At the hospital Antonio got out of the car and helped Jane alight, holding her hand a moment in farewell. ‘Hasta luego,’ he smiled, and kept his eyes on her as she turned away with a little wave and entered the building.
The significance of the little scene was not lost on his son. So I was right, Fernando thought, and felt a pang of sorrowing regret for his mother’s memory.
FIFTEEN
Sarah Lewis was waiting for them in the reception area to bring them along to Sheena’s room. Terry was already there, chatting with his twin, and at the sight of his mother he slid off the bed and gave her a hug. Sheena watched them apathetically.
‘Darling,’ Jane cried, secretly shocked at the stark misery she saw on her daughter’s face. She hurried close to the bed and enfolded Sheena in her arms.
‘Mummy, Mummy,’ Sheena’s indifference suddenly melted and she clung fiercely to her mother, breaking down in a storm of tears.
When she was calmer Jane helped her sit back against the pillows and, still holding her hand, suggested, ‘Terry, why don’t you and Claire bring Ruthie out to the garden. You haven’t seen it yet, have you, darling?’
‘But Mummy I want to stay with you,’ she protested, as if afraid that Jane might vanish if she took her eyes off of her.
‘Just for a few minutes while I chat with Sheena,’ Jane bargained. ‘There’s a good girl. Then I want to hear all about Stella.’
When they were gone Jane turned back to Sheena and met her glance with a reassuring smile. ‘Ruthie has been staying with Fernando and Antonio for the past few days and, from everything I’ve heard, been thoroughly spoiled.’
Sheena’s expression lightened, but almost at once the old brooding, unhappy look was back. Jane’s heart sank. Obviously something very bad had happened. She ached to know so that she might begin to try and put it right, but wisely decidinh to wait until Sheena was ready to confide in her, talked of every subject other than what was uppermost in their minds.
In the end, a light-hearted remark was the chink in the dam which eventually released all the horrors burdening Sheena’s soul.
‘Terr
y’s friend Pete keeps ringing to enquire after you,’ Jane was saying. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a path beaten to the door when you come back.’ She grinned at Sheena and was shocked to see her agonised expression.
‘No, he won’t, Mummy,’ Sheena choked. ‘Nobody will. Not when they know... ‘
‘Know what?’ Jane asked gently. She saw the shame and self-revulsion on Sheena’s tear-stained face and thought that her heart might break for her. By the time Terry and the girls came in from the garden Jane knew the whole degrading story. She knew too that she would not rest until her daughter had been avenged.
That night Claire and Jane stayed up late. Long after Ruthie had settled down and gone to sleep, they were still on the balcony with the candles alight to discourage the mosquitoes.
Claire talked about all that had happened since they had first arrived in Spain and Jane, conscious of what Sarah Lewis had revealed to her, was as patient as she had been with her own daughter and waited for Claire to confide in her. Finally, Jane gently steered the conversation to the Gonzalez family, deliberately revealing her involvement with Antonio years before.
‘And there’s something else,’ Jane went on. ‘When I came to leave hospital after all those weeks there recovering from my accident I found that Señor Gonzalez had taken care of my hospital bill. And, do you know, Claire, I’m convinced he intends doing the same for the twins.’
‘Gosh!’ Claire said startled. ‘How generous!’
‘Absolutely!’ Jane agreed. ‘And he has been so kind keeping Ruthie at his house all this time.’
Claire observed the dreamy little smile hovering about Jane’s lips and wondered could she still be in love with Antonio. She couldn’t help feeling shocked. Elena had been dead such a short time.
