Child of Music (Warrender Saga Book 5)

by Mary Burchell

  ‘You darling, impossible girl — ’ he laughed reluctantly. ‘It’s not true, of course. But you have the most wonderful way of making one feel much better and as though — what was the phrase used by that headmistress of yours? — as though you’re still opening window on fresh horizons. Felicity, do you think you could possibly — ’

  But at that moment, of all moments, there was a little tap, the door opened slowly, and Janet stood in the doorway in a faded hospital dressing-gown and said, ‘Can I come in, Miss Grainger?’

  ‘Janet! Come in, darling!’ She sat up and actually held out her arms. And Janet, who was not used to having Miss Grainger behave quite so emotionally, ran across and hugged her.

  ‘Are you much hurt?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘No. Are you?’ Felicity asked.

  Janet shook her head. ‘I’m a bit scraped and bruised. And I swallowed a lot of smoke,’ she explained, though apparently without any horrifying recollection of her dangerous experience. ‘But I’m all right. And so is my violin.’

  ‘Of course. We took good care of that, didn’t we?’ Felicity smiled at her reassuringly. ‘No need to worry about it ever again.’

  ‘No.’ Janet shook her head once more and looked singularly happy and contented. ‘Because Aunt Julia’s gone and won’t ever come back.’

  ‘Did Mr. Tarkman assure you of that?’ Felicity glanced quickly from Janet to Stephen.

  ‘Oh, no.’ Janet gave Stephen a friendly smile which, however, conferred no godlike power upon him. ‘Mr. Warrender did.’

  ‘Mr. Warrender? Has he been here, then?’ asked Felicity in astonishment.

  ‘He’s here now. And so is she,’ Janet explained. ‘They came about half an hour ago, and they want to know if you can see them. They flew across from America this morning and came straight down here. And Mr. Warrender says Aunt Julia won’t ever come near me or my violin again. And that I needn’t feel too badly about setting fire to poor Mrs. Emlyn’s house, because I didn’t know what I was doing so it wasn’t really my fault. And he says if the insurance company turns nasty he’ll pay. Isn’t he wonderful? And will you see him and Mrs. Warrender now?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Felicity to all of that.

  And Janet went to the door to admit Anthea — smiling but anxious — closely followed by her husband, who was looking a good deal more benevolent and less intimidating than he usually did.

  As Anthea tenderly embraced Felicity, with slight exclamations of concern and sympathy, Janet took the conductor by the hand and said kindly, ‘I expect you know Mr. Tarkman already, don’t you?’

  ‘Since before you were born,’ replied Warrender. But he did not withdraw his hand, Felicity noticed, and without even appearing to take particular notice of Janet, he put her into the only remaining chair in the room and stood beside her as he talked to Stephen.

  ‘I’m not going to say too much about what must have been a dreadful experience,’ Anthea said, regarding Felicity anxiously. ‘But we gather that you’ve been an absolute heroine, and Oscar just hasn’t got words to thank you for looking after Janet to such an incredible degree.’

  ‘I have plenty of words for the subject, as a matter of fact.’ The conductor smiled briefly across at Felicity. ‘But I generously allowed Anthea first innings. In any case — ’ he suddenly looked very kind — ‘it can’t need any words of ours to increase the happiness you must feel over your part in this business.’

  ‘I am happy,’ Felicity agreed with a shy smile. And suddenly she knew how profoundly true that was. She was happy in a way she had never known before — with a completeness which comes only once or twice in any lifetime. Happy because Janet was safe after all, and would develop to complete artistic fulfilment in the care of the friends she had now found. Happy because she herself, in a moment of crisis, had instinctively done what was right. Happy, above all — though perhaps on a slightly less exalted plane — because Stephen had said categorically that he did not love Julia Morton.

  She took little part in the conversation of the next few minutes, content to drift in a sort of golden haze, picking out only a word here and there. Until Stephen’s well-loved voice said quietly, ‘We’re tiring her.’

  And at the same time the door opened to admit a somewhat outraged nurse who exclaimed, ‘I said one visitor only! And, Janet Morton, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I’m visiting Miss Grainger, who saved my life,’ Janet replied rather grandly. ‘And you can’t order us all out because this is Mr. Oscar Warrender and he’s the greatest conductor in the world.’

  ‘I don’t care if he’s top of the pops,’ replied the nurse briskly, defining fame in her own idiom. ‘I’m in charge here and you must all go.’

  ‘Quite right.’ The conductor turned on her the unexpected smile which he kept for very special occasions. ‘We must all support authority in each other’s fields. I’m no more important here than you would be in my orchestra.’

  ‘Oh, well — ’ she wavered slightly before the famous charm. ‘I — I did say one visitor, of course.’

  ‘But I’m not that one,’ Warrender assured her. ‘Come, it’s time we went.’ And with singular understanding he put a seemingly careless arm round Janet and gave a summoning glance at his wife.

  Both got up immediately. But Stephen asked, rather humbly for him, ‘May I stay a few minutes longer?’

  ‘If you must.’ The nurse sounded less indulgent to him than she had to the conductor whose famous name she was now just faintly recalling.

  ‘I must,’ replied Stephen firmly. And, perhaps because she recognized authority again, she yielded.

  Good-byes were exchanged and Felicity watched her well-loved visitors until the door closed behind them and the nurse. Then she turned her head and smiled slowly at Stephen.

  ‘Can you bear just a few more words?’ His answering smile was anxious.

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Then — ’ Suddenly he seemed strangely unsure of himself, almost stammering in his nervous eagerness. ‘We — were interrupted, weren’t we?’

  ‘Were we?’ She frowned slightly in the effort to recall the point at which their conversation had been broken off.

  ‘Yes. On the famous phrase about opening windows on fresh horizons,’ he reminded her urgently. ‘And — and I wanted to ask you — ‘ He stopped, and then suddenly he took her in his arms. ‘Felicity, I’ve been such a fool! There are fresh horizons. They’ve been waiting there all the time. Only I wouldn’t let you open the windows for me. — Oh, why am I talking in this damned fanciful way? I love you, Felicity. That’s what I’m trying to say. You’ve given a new meaning, breadth, depth — joy to life. I don’t deserve you — arrogant, obstinate, bone-headed creature that I’ve been, but — ’

  ‘Stephen dear!’ She put up her hand against his lips. ‘I simply don’t know you in this mood of self-abasement. I won’t have you say such things. If they were true I wouldn’t love you, and — ’

  ‘Do you love me?’ He pushed her hand away quite roughly in order to ask the question.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Felicity said, slightly stunned to find that all she felt, thought, hoped and feared could actually be compressed into three words.

  He drew a long breath of exquisite relief. And at the same time the ever-watchful nurse gave a sharp tap of reminder on the door.

  ‘I’m coming — I’m coming,’ cried Stephen. And then, forgetting to change his tone in his excitement — ‘You will marry me, darling, won’t you?’

  The nurse opened the door and put her head in.

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