Idly, he stooped and picked up a handful of stones from a pile which the sea, in angry mood, had at some time thrown up against the wall of the jetty. Taking aim, he threw them into the sea, watching the splash and the widening circles of disturbed water as they struck the surface. He appeared lost in his own thoughts, and it seemed to Jill that for the moment he had entirely forgotten her presence. Suddenly, as if tiring of the pastime, he dropped the remaining pebbles from his hand and turned again to Jill. “I too, shall be very sorry to leave here. In fact, I can’t bring myself to sell the house. I shall keep it if only for occasional holidays.”
“You mean you are leaving St. Josephs? Jill asked in astonishment.
“Yes my town appointments make it essential that I have my headquarters there. Soon after the New Year I shall settle in London.”
“Oh!” Jill could not suppress the exclamation which sprang to her lips. So he would be in London... they might even meet ... she might even get an appointment at one of the hospitals he attended. Of course, it was absurd, she must dismiss the idea. Hadn’t she been prepared to accept with resignation the coming parting of their ways, recognizing the obvious wisdom of a complete break, which Fate—assisted by Brenda—had made imperative. Jill caught her breath in her throat. She had steeled herself to follow blindly where Fate had decreed, now, why shouldn’t she accept any crumb which it might throw her.
Ignoring Jill’s lack of comment, Duncan McRey rose to his feet “I think we ought to be moving. How about going along the shore, the tide is low enough. Do you think you can manage to get down over the stones, there aren’t any proper steps from here?”
“I can manage,” Jill assured him. “I’d love to go along the beach, it will be the first time I’ve ventured there, it’s always been too windy ... or else high tide.”
“Now be careful ... follow me, it’s inclined to be, slippery.” He stepped carefully from the jetty onto a projecting rock, then taking Jill’s hand steadied her as she followed him. “It isn’t difficult. I often go tins way ... but mind out the seaweed is treacherous; keep clear of it.”
With careful steps, her hand still firmly held by her companion, Jill followed his lead. The moonlight was sufficiently bright to make the descent easy, but as he had warned her, the rocks were in some cases deceptive, providing a precarious foothold, and she was certainly glad of his firm support.
“Come along ... you’d better jump this last bit.” He was already safely on the beach. As Jill stood on the last boulder it looked a formidable jump, and she prepared to clamber down. “You’ll get horribly wet if you do that ... put your hands on my shoulders and jump.”
While she still hesitated, and before she had realized his intention, she felt his arms at her waist and was bodily lifted from the rock and set down lightly on the beach. The whole action had only taken a moment, and it had been done with such obvious ease that she had felt like thistledown in his arms. Such a fleeting moment, yet Jill felt breathless and her heart pounded beneath her ribs, matching the inward tumult of her thoughts. She felt the firm ground beneath her feet, yet his arms still encircled her as if reluctant to release their hold ... Was it imagination or had his lips brushed her forehead? Quickly lifting her head she found his bent towards her. The moonlight illumined his features with an unnatural pallor but, in that swift glance, Jill felt sure that his eyes reflected the depth of her own emotions and a joy, hitherto undreamed, filled her being. It was all over so quickly. Had it been no more than a trick of the moonlight?
“After you have left here I think you, too, will come back sometimes?” He had released her, but his words, spoken with deep intensity, filled Jill with new hope and confidence.
As she walked slowly at his side towards the water’s edge, she could still feel the gentle pressure of his arms as they as they had held her, his face close to hers, his breath warm on her cheek … the wet sea-washed pebbles shifted beneath her feet and sucked at the soles of her shoes, making progress difficult, yet to Jill, it was as if her feet were winged and she walked on air.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It seemed strange to Jill, during the days which followed how one fleeting kiss could change her whole outlook from one of despair to a surging hope which filled her heart to the exclusion of all else. In her calmer moments she tried to tell herself that she might be mistaken; that after all, Duncan McRey had given no definite sign that his feelings towards her had altered, yet she felt she knew just as clearly as any spoken word could have told her. That anxious week-end at Brent Towers she had experienced the comforting strength of his embrace, but she had known that to him it had been a mere disinterested gesture. Yet that night on the jetty had been different; for the first time, for just one moment, she had penetrated beneath that armour of reserve.
There had been little in Duncan McRey’s attitude at their following meetings to encourage Jill’s hopes. If he harboured any warmer feelings towards her, he gave no sign, and went about his work in exactly the same manner as previously. Their relationship had, in any case, become considerably easier since, no longer handicapped by Brenda’s lack of co-operation, Jill was able to give of her best, and their mutual interest in Terry’s progress had also provided a common bond, more especially now that they were both concerned in welcoming him to Sunsand. It was not only these things which had eased their relationship, as Harriet had foretold Jill couldn’t fail to win Duncan McRey’s respect in time, and this had proved to be the case. In spite of his taciturn attitude she no longer dreaded his rounds, and remained entirely unperturbed by his most irascible moods.
“Sister, may I come in?” Brenda put her head round the door of Jill’s office; then, as Jill bade her enter, she advanced to the desk, unwrapping the brown paper parcel she held in her hands. “Do you think this will do?” She held out a doll for Jill’s inspection. “I think it looks better, don’t you?”
“It’s lovely,” Jill exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm “I think you made a wonderful job of it. Why, it looks like new!”
The doll had been repainted, its matted hair replaced by twisted wool, and the clothes, although obviously contrived out of odd bits, were beautifully made and so complete m every detail that they would bring joy to any child s heart.
“I’m so glad you like it!” Brenda exclaimed as she started to rewrap her parcel. “I’ll hide it in the cupboard with the others until we want it.”
“Have you made one for Julie?” Jill asked.
“No, I’m giving her party shoes this year—there is a big children’s affair she is invited to. I’m altering her last year’s frock to make it do, but I can’t enlarge shoes,” she added with a laugh.
“No, I suppose even your clever fingers couldn’t do that.” Jill paused, then went on. “May I give her the frock? I’ve been trying to think what she might like. I’m going to town to finish my shopping to-morrow if you’ll give me the size I’ll get it then.”
“Do you really mean that? Oh, it would be too marvellous!’ Brenda’s voice was charged with excitement as she went on to give Jill details of Julie’s requirements. The conversation, as it tended to do when Julie was mentioned threatened to become too prolonged and Jill, in order to terminate the discussion, made a deliberate change of subject.
“I want to get everything as forward as possible this evening. I’ve got to get an early train to-morrow. I’m seeing my mother off. She is leaving town at twelve, so I must be there in good time.”
“Yes, of course,” Brenda agreed readily. “I hear your little brother is coming down here for Christmas. Isn’t that lovely? The sea air will do him good, too, after his illness.”
“How on earth did you know?” Jill asked.
“Mrs. Miles must have told Mary—anyway, Mary told me. I didn’t believe the child at first. Fancy Dr. McRey having a child to stay with him!”
“I suppose it is rather unexpected,” Jill conceded. “He went down to see Terry last Sunday. Dr. Laine went too. I was thrilled when he told me what had
been arranged. I hated the idea of the child being left on his own over the holidays.”
“I expect it was Dr. Laine’s idea.” Brenda spoke with conviction. “It sounds much more like her.”
Jill had to admit that this explanation was probably true; in any case, she wasn’t in any mood to be depressed by anything so trivial, and preceding Brenda from the office she commenced the routine of her morning’s work.
Jill had now reached the stage when she began to wish that Christmas was over. The ward seemed to be in a perpetual litter of bits of coloured paper, and untidy piles of tinsel and holly. To cap everything, she now had to extricate young William from a bed in which he had spilled the whole contents of a bottle of glue. Rolling up her sleeves she began to concentrate on her seemingly impossible task of separating William from the sheets to which he appeared to have become permanently attached and removing as much of the glue as possible from the tangled crop of his hair.
“Dr. McRey ... for you. He’s in the office ... For goodness’ sake don’t let him come in the ward, it’s still in such an awful mess!” Brenda murmured in a quiet aside.
It certainly was—and so was Jill! In spite of her hurried efforts to remove the glue from her hands, they felt tacky against the door handle as she entered her office. There was at least one good thing, she thought with an inward smile as she crossed her office to confront Duncan McRey, one wasn’t expected to shake hands with the Honorary!
“What’s the joke?”
So he had noticed her amusement. Jill’s lips curved provocatively. “I was just thinking how lucky it is I don’t have to shake hands with you—I’ve just been dealing with a bottle of spilt glue—it would be most uncomfortable. We’d probably stick!”
“Supposing we did?” He raised his eyebrows quizzically as he returned her smile.
Jill felt the colour mount her cheeks. There probably hadn’t been anything untoward in his remark, yet in her present mood Jill was sure she detected some underlying meaning. To cover her confusion she went on speaking. “It’s beastly stuff to get off; in fact, I don’t think soap and water has had the slightest effect.” She viewed the palms of her hands speculatively. “Although glue never seems to stick anything you really want it to stick.” She knew her remarks to be fatuous, yet felt an urge to keep on speaking. “I’d better try some ether. Can you wait a moment while I deal with it?”
“I’m in no hurry.” Duncan McRey seated himself in the chair at Jill’s desk and swung round to watch her as she extricated the bottle of ether from the cupboard and produced a roll of cotton wool.
Jill’s fingers felt like thumbs as she uncorked the bottle and applied a drop of the fluid to a pad of cotton wool, but the wool persisted in adhering in turn first to the bottle-neck, then to her fingers.
“Better let me help you,” Duncan McRey suggested after he had watched in silence for a few moments. He rose and took her hands one at a time, cleansing them carefully with the spirit. “How’s that?” he asked, viewing the results.
“Splendid, thanks.” Jill pulled her hands free and hastily, busied herself clearing away the wool and the bottle, while she tried to compose herself. “Did you come over to see me about anything special?” she asked without turning.
“Yes, I understand you are off duty all day tomorrow and going to town. Terry is due on Friday. I wondered when you’d be coming over to my place to see about his accommodation.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you when it would be convenient.”
“To-morrow is Wednesday—Thursday is leaving it a bit late, as I expect there will be some clearing out to do. How about to-day, what time are you off duty?”
“This afternoon from two until four,” Jill replied, “In fact I’m off in a few minutes now for lunch. I don’t come on again until teatime.”
“Then why not come now. It will only take a few minutes, and I think it may be better if I show you round myself and tell you what rooms I had in mind.”
Telling Brenda of her intention, Jill swung her cape across her shoulders and followed Duncan McRey from the building. She crossed the lawn by his side and emerging through the wrought-iron gates of the hospital, walked a few yards up a narrow lane to the house. It had obviously been designed to turn its back to the town, since all the main rooms faced an uninterrupted view of sea. It stood in a large garden which swept to the very edge of the cliff, with a rough zig-zagged pathway giving direct access to the beach. It was a larger house than Jill had imagined, Victorian in its architecture but with a not unpleasing air of solidarity. As Jill stood in the lounge she could well understand Harriet’s disapproval; the furnishings were rather more solid than pleasing, and although Mrs. Miles was no doubt responsible for the high polish on the mahogany furniture and the bowl of mixed chrysanthemums arranged on a side table, the whole room lacked the comfort and lived in appearance which graced every corner of Harriet’s home.
“I’ll show you the rooms I had in mind.” He led Jill up the stairway and threw open the door of a large bedroom with tall windows leading to a verandah beyond. From where she stood Jill could no longer see the garden, only the wide expanse of sea and sky giving the illusion of standing on the very edge of the cliff. She caught her breath in sheer delight. “What a perfect outlook,” she exclaimed, walking across to the tall windows.
“It’s wonderful in summer, but I’m afraid one can’t use the verandah in this weather.” He walked across to join her. “It isn’t much of a house, but I have always delighted in the position. It’s so near the town, and yet even in summer when the place is crowded with visitors, one keeps the illusion of isolation.”
“I think it’s lovely.” Jill turned round to see the room. Like the lounge, it had an unused appearance, but it was adequately, almost richly, furnished, and Jill could imagine how the dressing table with its elaborate arrangements of drawers and cupboards and the Davenport desk would delight Terry’s heart after the modern furniture of his own nurseries at Brent. “Terry will love this.” She found herself speaking her thoughts aloud. “How thrilled he will be at sleeping in a four-poster bed!”
“I thought that might tickle his fancy.” Duncan McRey laughed, then moved across the room to throw open the communicating door. “There is an adequate single room there for his nurse, the bathroom will be entirely at their disposal. I had one built leading from my own room when I moved in. It was the one luxury I allowed myself but one day—well, sometime or other, I mean to do up and refurnish the whole place. It is rather a formidable undertaking, and I haven’t had the courage to tackle it as yet.”
Jill wasn’t allowed to leave the house before both Mrs. Miles and Mary had greeted her, the former displaying her own apartments with obvious pride and happiness. “I’m so happy here, Sister ... and Mary, she’s never been so well, playing around all day, never seems to get tired, and putting on so much weight, too ... just took at her arms.” She displayed Mary’s dimpled arms with obvious joy. “She is so excited too at the idea of the little boy coming to stay, but I’ve told her she isn’t to go poking her nose in where she isn’t wanted, so she won’t be any nuisance, I promise you.”
“Of course she won’t.” Jill stooped to drop a kiss on Mary’s upturned face. “Terry will be glad if you’ll play with him sometimes. He is just about your age, you’ll have lots of fun together.”
“Please don’t encourage her, Sister. I understand there is a nurse coming along with the child, she might not approve of Mary,” Mrs. Miles suggested somewhat doubtfully.
Jill laughed. “Nana ... not approve! What nonsense! Nana is an absolute darling, she loves all children just as much as they love her, and if you aren’t careful she’ll be monopolizing Mary altogether!”
It was not until they were on their way back to the hospital that Duncan McRey asked her opinion of the arrangements.
“Everything is perfect. I think this holiday will be the highlight of Terry’s young life. Nana is always complaining that the child never gets a real break. I
f he gets away at all it’s to some hotel where he has to be on his best behaviour all the time and daren’t raise his voice above a whisper.” She paused, then, turning directly to her companion, added, “I still don’t understand ... it must be a trouble for you. Why did you do it?”
The direct question appeared disconcerting, and there was an obvious lapse before Duncan McRey framed his reply. “Because I knew the child wanted to be near you more than anything else. It can be so easy to grant a child’s wish, I hadn’t the heart to do otherwise. Adult wishes can be terribly hard to realize. This, I knew, happened to be your wish, too, so you see I was able to kill two birds with one stone,” he ended with a laugh.
“This bird is happier than she can say,” Jill joked to hide the stir of emotion his words had provoked. “If only all my wishes were granted so easily.”
“Better tell me what they are. I’ll see what I can do about it.” Matching his mood to hers, he spoke in teasing tones.
He could ask her that when through him alone she could find the fulfilment of every wish? Forcing a laugh she held out her hand. “Thank you again and ... and no wishes just at the moment ... by the way, it’s quite safe to shake. I’m completely degummed now, there isn’t any danger of sticking.” His laugh followed her as with lowered head she hurried across the lawn in the direction of the dining hall.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jill drew her fur coat more closely round her as she alighted at Victoria Station and made her way along the draughty platform. It was always a pleasant change to be out of uniform, and the knowledge that one was well-dressed afforded a certain feminine satisfaction.
It was only a short taxi ride to the Hallard’s Mayfair flat, and soon Jill was pressing her finger to the bell. Suitcases strapped and labelled stood piled in one corner of the hall, and a folder rug lay in readiness on a walnut chest. As Jill entered the lounge, her mother rose to greet her, and it was obvious that she was in the nervous state which invariably afflicted her at the prospect of a journey.
To Please the Doctor Page 16
