by Lucy Gordon
‘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. Th
e 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.’
‘But I’ll be useless, too,’ Mark said, holding up his damaged hand.
‘You won’t have to fly a plane with that, just rework the movements so that you can do them differently. Lucky it’s your left hand.’
‘Joe, I can’t take charity.’
‘It’s not charity. You’d be doing me a favour. That house is empty without Sylvia and Helen. It echoes something horrible. But if you’re there, it’ll be more cheerful.’
Mark was still uncertain, fearful of being pitied but eager for the chance to work. Dee slipped out, leaving them to it. When she met up with Joe later, he was triumphant.
‘I told him you’d be there sometimes to keep an eye on him, so they might let him out of this place sooner. That did it. He’s going potty in here.’
‘You’re a cunning schemer,’ she told him lovingly.
‘That’s what your mum used to say, just like you said it. I told you once before-you have to know what you want and go for it.’
‘And you think you know what I want?’
‘Actually, love, I was thinking more of what I want. That house really is lonely, so a couple of grandchildren would suit me down to the ground, just as soon as you can get round to it.’
‘Dad! You’re shameless.’
‘Got to be. No time to waste. There’s a war on. Hadn’t you heard?’
Chuckling to himself, he fled her wrath.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MR ROYCE was understanding. ‘Your father’s right. It’ll help him to go home and live a more normal life, and you can look after him. I don’t suppose you’ll be sleeping here any more?’
‘No, I’ll be spending my nights at home now,’ she said.
He sighed and gave her a wry smile. ‘Just as I thought. Well, good luck.’
For a moment it was all there in his eyes, everything he’d felt but never said over the last few years. Then the shutters came down and he was once more Mr Royce, figure of authority.
Mark came home a week later and was installed in Sylvia’s old room. By now he was on his feet and able to take the bus with the assistance of Joe, who closed the garage for the afternoon to help him. They both reached home safely, followed in the evening by Dee.
Joe had even cooked the supper for her and they celebrated together, toasting each other in cups of tea. Then she ordered Mark to bed and he obeyed with comical meekness.
Over the next few weeks, things improved. Mark’s burns healed slowly but steadily. He could still manage many tasks in the garage, and having something to occupy his mind did him good.
Life settled into a pattern that was so strangely comfortable it seemed predestined. There was even a kind of happiness in the situation. Often Dee would awaken in the small hours and lie reflecting comfortably that Mark was there, safe under the same roof. It wasn’t the relationship she’d dreamed of, but it brought out the protective side of her nature. Whatever might happen in the future, he was here now, hers, to be looked after and kept from harm.
It was nearly five years since they had met and both of them had changed. The changes in him were clear enough, but she often wondered how she seemed to him. Surveying herself in the mirror, she saw no sign of the naive girl she’d once been. The person who looked back was a woman, settled in her successful career, in her life, and so mature that it was hard to believe she was only twenty-two.
One day, in the late afternoon, when Joe was out at a training session with the Home Guard and Mark was working in the garage, she made a cup of tea and was preparing to take it to him when a shadow appeared in the back door. It was Eileen, a young woman of her own age who lived a couple of streets away.
‘I just thought I’d drop in and see how you were,’ she said. ‘Haven’t seen you for ages.’
She was one of the crowd of girls who had sighed over Mark in the early days and, although she now devoted a respectable amount of time to chattering about nothing, Dee wasn’t surprised when she brought the conversation round to him.
‘I hear you’ve got Mark living here again. Fancy that.’
‘He’s working at the garage with Dad, and he boards here because it’s convenient.’
‘Oh, I’m longing to see him!’
‘Come on, then. I’m just taking him a cup of tea.’
From outside the garage, they could hear Mark singing tunelessly. There was no sign of him as they entered, only the noise coming from under a large car. Suddenly the noise stopped and Mark slid out from underneath. Dee heard a sharp intake of breath beside her and turned to see Eileen, her eyes fixed on Mark in horror.
Because of the warm day, he’d removed his shirt and his bare chest was visible. Eileen’s hands were pressed to her mouth and she was slowly shaking her head as though to say it couldn’t be true. Then she turned and hurried away.
The sight of Mark’s face as he understood that a young woman had fled from him in disgust, repelled by his disfigurement, made Dee want to commit murder. She slammed down the mug of tea and turned to pursue Eileen but Mark stopped her.
‘Let her go,’ he said wearily. ‘I must have given her a shock. I’m sorry; I wasn’t expecting anyone except you, and you’re used to the sight. I forget how dreadful I must look to anyone else.’
‘She had no right-’
‘It wasn’t her fault,’ Mark said simply.
He pulled on his shirt, buttoning it up to the neck so that none of the scars were visible. Then he sat down and dropped his head into his hands.
‘Just give me a little time to get used to it,’ he groaned. ‘It’s not the first time. It happened one day at the hospital. You were away for a moment and a nurse looked in with some dressings. I think she was a student, and not used to confronting horrors.’
‘You’re not-’
‘I know what I am. Don’t give me false hope. I’m like this for life and the sooner I accept it the better. If you could have seen that student’s face when she saw me… She went pale.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’
‘Because there would have been no point. This is the reality. This is what I am now, a man who makes women turn from him in horror.’
Dee was still consumed by anger on his behalf, and it drove her to do something that caution might otherwise have prevented.
‘Not this woman,’ she said, taking his face in her hands and laying her lips on his.
She was inexperienced. Beyond a few brief pecks, she’d known no other kisses but his and they seemed long ago. But now everything in her seemed to be alive with the awareness of his need, telling her how to move her lips against his so that he would know she cared for him, wanted him.
She tried to speak of desire so intense that his terrible scars couldn’t kill it, and for a few moments she thought she’d succeeded. His hands reached for her, touched her tentatively at first, then firmly, eagerly. She could feel him trembling. But then he stiffened, putting his hands on her arms and pushing her gently away.
‘No,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Not this.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she stammered,
swamped by shame. ‘I only-’
‘You only thought you’d carry your nursing a bit further, didn’t you? Pity the poor patient, don’t let him suspect how disgusting he is. It’s all part of the cure. Well, I don’t want your pity, do you hear? I don’t want anyone’s pity. I don’t even want my own, and that’s tough because I’m drowning in self-pity and I don’t know how to-’ He shuddered. ‘Oh, to hell with you! Why did you have to do that?’
Thrusting her aside, he stormed to the door, stopped and looked back. ‘Marry that doctor. He’s reliable and respectable. Not like me. And you deserve the best.’
He walked away without giving her a chance to reply and she heard the house door slam as he entered. She didn’t follow him at once, knowing that he needed to be alone.
He’d given her a glimpse of the devastation inside his head, even if against his own will. She’d thought she knew the wells of despair and self-disgust that lived there, but now she knew the depths extended further than her worst nightmares. Everything he said was true. If she was wise, she would turn from him to Mr Royce, who could offer her a new life.
But Mark was still the one she wanted; now more than ever. And her resolution was growing. Once before she had lost him by giving in too easily.
She wouldn’t let it happen again.
On her way to bed that night, Dee stopped outside Mark’s room. Hearing only silence, she opened the door a crack and listened to his deep, even breathing. Finally satisfied, she backed away without a sound.
Inside the room, Mark lay tense until he was certain she’d gone. Only then did he relax, thankful that his breathing had been steady enough to be convincing. After the events of the day, he couldn’t have endured having to face her.
He fought to attain sleep. Once it had been so easy. In his untroubled youth he had only to lay his head on the pillow to be in happy dreamland. But that had been-barely five years ago? He was still in his twenties, technically a young man, but, as with so many of his comrades, the inner and outer man no longer matched.
The feeling of being at ease with life had slipped away from him so gradually that he’d barely noticed, until he found himself lying awake at night, which now happened unbearably often. In the hospital he’d been grateful for the sedation that silenced the demons. He could have taken a pill tonight, but he stubbornly refused. He knew Dee checked them every morning to see if he’d had any, and he was damned if he was going to let her know how desperately he wanted to. She already knew too much of his weakness.
