Although it was very early evening, she put on a dressing-gown. A very smart one. Then she took a little care of her hair and put on a touch of make-up. She was not his patient, she was his lover! She was not an invalid. She walked along the corridor ready to do battle.
One thing about having an ankle-length gown, you could swish in a very satisfactory manner. She swept into the living room, resisting the impulse to stand there with one hand on her hip.
Jack waved her to the couch. In front of it was the coffee-table, and on the coffee-table was tea, sandwiches and a small plate of salad. Miranda realised that she was indeed hungry.
He came over to her, took her arm and saw her to the couch. 'I did you a little extra in case you were really hungry,' he said. 'But do leave it if it's too much.' He was obviously determined to be the complete host, urbane, thoughtful—and distant. He sat in a chair opposite her.
He had changed, was now dressed casually in dark shirt and trousers. And when she looked at him, the tall muscular body, the expressive face, she felt that stirring of excitement that he always brought out in her. But why didn't he show that he was excited to see her?
She sat, took a sandwich. They were small, thin, . delicate sandwiches and they were delicious. 'These are very dainty,' she said ungraciously. 'Did you make them?'
'I did indeed. I don't like taking great wads of bread, filling them with enough calories to feed a family and then cramming them into your mouth.'
Perhaps he had a point. And the sandwiches were delicious. She ate a couple more, drank some tea and then turned to fight.
'We were going to go to London,' she said. 'You were going to show me round. And there we were going to talk about our future.'
His voice was reluctant. 'Yes, I did say that. Perhaps we can go soon.' She thought that a certain tightening of his jaw muscles showed that he was not too keen on the idea.
'Jack, you need to have a wife who can give you babies. You know that, don't you?'
He didn't like the directness of the question. 'Not all men get what they want. Or women.'
'Well, I couldn't give you them before. But now— probably—I can. I don't know what Professor Laker told you, but when you came to see me there was still some doubt as to whether the operation had been a success. Jack, I had to wait four days until I had a proper examination and was told that, yes, things seemed to be fine. Four days of pain and doubt, Jack! I risked a lot, paid a lot to have this chance. And I did it—not entirely, but largely—for you. I would have expected a bit more concern, a bit more anything from you!'
Then she winced. She must still be a bit upset by the operation, she was being too hard on him.
And now he was angry. 'You did what you thought I wanted? Did you ask me? Did we talk about it? Haven't you been talking to me for the last few months about how necessary it is to consult, to decide things together? And you take this.. .this.. .this most important decision of your life without even mentioning it to me?'
'I thought that—'
'I doubt you did think. I could have helped, Miranda. How do you think I felt when I realised that Carly, my own sister, knew more about you than I did? I should have been told!'
'I did it so we could have a family!'
'Miranda, I've told you, told you, told you! It's you I wanted! I would marry you with or without the prospect of a family. It wasn't necessary to go... to go sneaking off like that.'
'You're angry because you had no part in planning this operation. You think you should have decided it yourself!' Her voice seemed to echo round the room.
He didn't answer, he just looked at her, and Miranda felt a thrill of dismay. She had gone too far and Jack was changing, right in front of her eyes. His face had shown anger, well, that was fine. She could deal with anger. But now his face was blank. Then there was that expression that she hated so much. The old, cold, self-contained Jack was back with a vengeance. The man who had no time for closeness. The man who saw her as a hospital worker, not a person.
'Would you like more tea?' he asked politely. 'And I could cut more sandwiches if you wish.'
She stared at him, appalled. 'Tea! Sandwiches! Jack, we're talking about our future here!'
He rose to his feet and said, 'I still want to be an adequate host. I'll fetch more tea and we can—'
'Sit down!' she snapped. Of course, he did no such thing.
Thinking quickly, desperately, she said in a quieter tone, 'Jack, please, sit down.'
Then he did. 'There's something you wanted to say?'
'Jack, the last time I sat on this couch you said you loved me. I didn't ask you to, it was your own decision to say it. And it made me happier than you can imagine.'
'If I remember rightly, first I said I thought I loved you. I was being honest, trying to be exact about my feelings. Afterwards, I guess I got carried away. Now, more tea?'
'No, thank you,' she said. After a pause she went on, 'You seemed very happy to get carried away. But, still, memories differ. Will you do something for me?' . 'If I can.'
She was sitting at one end of his long leather couch, and she pointed to the other end. 'Go and sit at that end of the couch. Put your back against the arm and stretch your legs along the seat.'
'What? But why...? Are you trying to—?'
'I am your guest and I have just had quite a serious operation,' she reminded him. 'It doesn't seem much to ask.'
He did as she asked. Then, shakily, she stood and walked to his end of the couch. She sat between his legs, leaned her body back against his. 'Is there a point to this?' he asked.
'There is a point. Now, if you're comfortable, I'd like you to wrap your arms round me. Very gently, of course. Then I want us just to sit here in silence for ten minutes.'
'Thinking about what?'
'Not thinking at all. Just feeling. And perhaps remembering that we were like this when you said you...thought you...loved me.'
'Is this supposed to—?'
'Just be quiet and feel, Jack.'
Would this work? she wondered.
There was still some pain from her operation but she had learned to live with it and it diminished every day. She felt deep apprehension—would this work? Other than this, she was happy. Jack was comfortable to lie on. There was his own unmistakable smell, a combination of expensive aftershave and body warmth. There was the giving firmness of his muscles. There was the gentle in-and-out movement of his chest as he breathed.
For perhaps five minutes they sat there in silence together. Then she felt the tautness of his body relaxing. One of his hands moved further round her, grasped her two hands. His other hand reached for her face, a gentle finger caressed her ear, her cheek, ran across her lips. But nothing was said. There were five minutes to go.
'I think our ten minutes are up,' she said eventually, 'I'll move if you want me to.'
'No. I'm quite comfortable.' He craned his head, kissed her neck, and she shivered with delight.
'I've got something to tell you,' she said. 'I love you. You claim to be logical. But you're angry at me just because I did something without telling you, and it was something that you wanted. But I did it to make you— and me—happy.'
'You love me?' His voice seemed curious, as if he couldn't believe what she had just said.
'Of course I do. You can be irritating and sometimes you're stubborn. Sometimes you can be downright scary! But you're a good man, a fair man, and everyone respects that. And underneath your formidable exterior, you're very lovable.' She snuggled down, safe in the arms of the man she loved. 'Now, don't say anything to me. Just lie there and take things easy. I'm ill, remember. I have to be cosseted.'
He gently kissed the top of her head. 'I want to cosset you. Listen, Miranda, I don't know if it's this couch or this position but I want to repeat something I said before. I don't think I love you. I know I do. So...will you marry me?'
Miranda smiled. 'Of course I'll marry you,' she said. 'And I'll try to make you as happy as you'll make me.'
A Surgeon, A Midwife - A Family Page 14
