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Authors: Anne Douglas

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BOOK: Dreams to Sell
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‘Oh, Dougal!'

They clung together for a moment, then Dougal drew away, smiling. ‘I've got to go now, Roz. I'll see you as soon as you can make it to Rookwood, but there's someone else waiting to see you now, and you'll know who it is.'

‘Evan?' she whispered.

‘Aye, Evan.'

He came hurrying down the ward, his face drawn, his dark blue eyes searching each bed until he found Roz, then almost ran to her side and pressed his lips to hers – much to the interest of nearby patients and their visitors.

‘Roz,' he murmured. ‘Oh, Roz, what a nightmare! I've been to hell and back since Bob phoned me at the hotel at midnight!'

‘It's all right, Evan, I'm all right. I've just got a broken arm—'

‘And concussion. My God, if I could find the fellow who kicked you, I'd kill him. To trample on a person, to trample on you …' Evan sat back, putting his hand to his face. ‘Why are there such people in the world?'

‘It's a natural thing to want to save yourself, Evan. He might not even have known he'd done it. Never mind about him, sit down and talk to me.'

‘They've only given me ten minutes. It seems that rest is the thing for concussion.' Evan breathed deeply. ‘But I'll do anything they say, as long as they get you better.'

‘Poor Evan,' she whispered. ‘Have you been driving all night?'

‘As soon as Bob rang me, I packed my bag, got in the car and drove like the clappers till – you'll never believe this – the car broke down somewhere near Berwick. I had to walk miles to a phone, then when I got on to a garage I had to have a tow that they couldn't do till morning, then I'd to wait for them to fix it so I had to sleep in the car.' Evan, laughing, wiped his brow. ‘Got here just before your ma and Dougal went in to see you – didn't even have time to get you flowers – but here I am, at last, thank God.'

‘I think I'll be out soon, Evan. I'm feeling much better and they said they'll probably let me go home the day after tomorrow. I can rest there.'

‘I'll take you, then, but I'll be in tomorrow afternoon anyway. Oh, look, may I kiss you again?'

‘Sorry, sir,' a nurse interrupted, ‘but I think Miss Rainey should rest now. I'll have to ask you to leave.'

‘Till tomorrow, then,' he whispered, but she smiled.

‘Sign my plaster, Evan?'

As admiring eyes followed him, he slowly left the ward after signing his name on her cast, finally turning at the door to wave and, to sighs of approval, she waved back.

‘That your young man, dear?' someone called. ‘What a dream boat, eh?'

But a nurse was already shaking her head and Roz, feeling amazingly weary, closed her eyes and slept, though her lips were smiling still.

Sixty-Six

It was seven o'clock the following day. Time for the ward's evening visitors, but Roz, lying on her bed in her dressing gown, wasn't expecting any, as she'd seen hers already. So lovely to see dear Evan and everyone, even though she did now feel very tired, but tomorrow – oh, joy – she'd be going home! Evan was to collect her after the doctors' rounds, when she should be judged well enough to continue her convalescence at home.

Her eyes moved to a large get-well card on her locker which bore all the signatures from those at Tarrel's, with a special message from Angus saying she must come back soon, that he couldn't manage without her, and another from Norma, who said she'd visit Roz at home.

How kind everyone had been! How pleasant it was to know that they were thinking of her and that she was missed! Closing her eyes for a moment, Roz tried to ignore the itching beneath her arm's plaster, and wondered when she would be well enough to return to work. Soon, she hoped, for she'd never been one for resting. Strange, though, that she still felt so weary!

In came the visitors, tramping down the ward, but Roz, only listening, not watching, felt she would soon fall asleep. Except that some sixth sense was warning her that someone was near and, opening her eyes, she saw Laurence Carmichael.

‘Laurence?' She was trying to make sense of it – Laurence, really here? In the hospital ward? ‘What are you doing here?'

‘I saw the piece in the paper about you, Roz. It said you were recovering here.' He laid some flowers on her bed and put a hand on the chair by her bed. ‘May I sit down?'

When she nodded he sat down, keeping his eyes on her face. ‘Such a terrible thing to happen to you. I had to come to see how you were.'

‘Did you? Well, thank you. As you can see, I'm not too bad. A broken arm, a bit of concussion, but I'm OK.'

‘Thank God for that.'

They were still warily studying each other, Roz thinking he was looking rather strained, even a little older, and he thinking – well, she didn't know what. If she was looking strained, too, he would know it was because of what had happened to her, but her guess was that she was looking happy. She should be, anyway, because she was.

‘Everything all right with you?' she asked after a pause.

‘Fine.' He cleared his throat. ‘Did you see that we're engaged? Meriel and I?'

‘I'm afraid not, but congratulations.'

He lowered his eyes and sat for a while without speaking, seeming oblivious to the chattering and laughing of the visitors in the ward, while Roz simply waited. At last, he looked up. ‘Made a mistake, didn't I?'

‘No, Laurence, you did not. You chose the house – and that was right for you.'

‘Houses shouldn't come before people. And I was never fair to you, was I? I let you down.'

‘You did what you thought you had to do. Let's not talk about it.'

‘I can't stop thinking about it.'

She sighed. ‘If you'd been what you call fair to me, it would never have worked out. We'd probably have lost the house and been left with each other – and that wouldn't have been enough.'

‘Wouldn't it?'

She shook her head. ‘No.'

‘You didn't love me?'

‘I did, but you were always part of the house, you see. I think now, maybe what I felt … wasn't real. So, you needn't blame yourself, Laurence. I was to blame, too.'

‘No, no, I won't accept that.'

‘Well, it's all over now. You have someone else – and so have I.'

‘Someone else?'

‘That's right.' She put out her ‘good' hand. ‘We parted friends before; let's do that now.'

He shook her hand and rose. ‘I'll wish you all the best, then. Every happiness.'

‘And I wish that for you. It was very good of you to come to see me – I appreciate that. Oh, and thank you for the flowers! I'll get someone to put them in water.'

‘Goodbye, then. Get well soon.'

‘Goodbye, Laurence.'

He walked away, past the eyes of those patients who took an interest in Roz's visitors, and she guessed they'd be wondering who he was and where he fitted in. What a Prince Charming he was, then – she knew she could still feel that, and was filled with a great sadness for him and the hope that he would be happy. Of course, he would be, she told herself. Meriel would see to it, and he would have his house. It had been his choice, after all.

But why had she not asked him to sign her cast? Because he was part of the past? It was hard to say. But she knew she would not see him again.

Sixty-Seven

The following Saturday afternoon, when Roz had been back at home for several days and was feeling almost her old self – apart from her arm – Flo, who had the day off, said she'd just be nipping out for her messages.

‘You'll be all right, pet?' she asked, putting on a cardigan and taking up her shopping bags. ‘Anything you'd like, if I can find it? What a disgrace it is we've still got our ration books, then!'

‘How about salad?' said Roz, looking up from her book. ‘It's so warm, eh?'

‘Aye, I'll get some cold stuff and boil some eggs. That'll be fine for when Chrissie comes in, too.' Flo, looking back from the door, said softly, ‘Oh, but it's so grand to see you looking well again, Roz! You and Dougal both. I couldn't be happier.'

‘Wait till he comes home, we'll be putting the flags out then,' said Roz, laughing. ‘Wonder what he's going to do.'

‘Shouldn't be surprised if it doesn't involve nurse Joan MacEwan,' Flo said, nodding her head. ‘He's really sweet on her, you ken. Not that he's said, but I can tell.'

‘Why, I'm sure QA nurses aren't allowed to go out with patients!' Roz cried, looking interested.

‘Ah, but Dougal won't be a patient for much longer, the colonel says. Never mind, I must away. See what Dougal says when you see him.'

‘I'm looking forward to that. Before you go, Ma, have you seen my knitting needle? I've got to scratch down this plaster again or I'll go mad.'

All was quiet in the living room when Flo had gone. Roz yawned, drank some lemonade, opened the windows wider and had returned to her book when the downstairs bell rang.

Now, who's that? she thought, rising. Norma, maybe?

Down the stairs she ran, rather looking forward to a chat with Norma, hearing all the firm's gossip and more plans for the wedding. But the person standing on the doorstep was not Norma. It was Jamie Shield.

Another ghost from the past.

Yet, in an open-necked shirt and flannels and carrying a bunch of pink roses, he looked very much the same. And when she looked more closely, as she tried to seem completely at ease, she thought she could detect a look in his eye she'd seen once before – apprehension.

‘Jamie?' she heard herself say. ‘What brings you here?'

‘The hospital told me you'd been discharged and I thought – I hoped – you wouldn't mind if I came to see you.'

‘Why would you want to?'

‘Well, because of the terrible thing that happened at the cinema. I can't tell you how I felt when I read the piece in the paper.'

‘You didn't come to see me in the hospital.'

‘Roz, I've only just found the courage to come here.'

Slowly, she opened the door wider. ‘You'd better come in.'

In the flat, she told him to sit down and put his roses into water.

‘I can't think why you've come, Jamie. We can't have anything to say to each other.'

He looked away. ‘I came to see how you were. It's natural to want to know that, isn't it? About someone you care for?'

Care for? Roz looked desperately around the living room. Had he said that?

‘I'm fine,' she told him. ‘I have this broken arm, as you can see, and I had some concussion, but I'm pretty well recovered.' She hesitated. ‘But I don't understand what you said just then. Surely, you're not saying you still care for me? After all this time?'

‘It's all right – I know you don't feel the same. I'm not asking you to take me back. I wish you could forgive me, though.' He waited a moment. ‘Ella has, you know. But she's married, anyway, and expecting a baby. She's well and truly over me.'

‘I'm glad to hear it.' Roz moved to fill the kettle, at which he leaped up.

‘Roz, let me do that.'

‘It's all right, I can manage. I'm good at working with one hand now.' She gave him a steady stare as he sat down again. ‘Jamie, it was partly because of Ella that I couldn't forgive you. I couldn't forget that day she came to see you when she'd been so happy, thinking you were hers, and all the time …' Roz shook her head. ‘I felt as bad for her as I did for myself, even though I understood why you'd done what you did.'

‘You did understand?' he asked eagerly.

‘Yes, but it didn't mean I could forgive you. Not for a long time.'

‘And now, Roz? How do you feel towards me now?'

‘I'm like Ella. I've forgiven you, but that's as far as it goes.' She watched the kettle as it sang and finally boiled, then made tea.

‘As far as it goes? You don't feel the same as you did?'

‘No. That died some time ago.'

His eyes flickered. ‘And now … is there someone else?'

‘Yes, there's someone else.'

She poured the tea and they both drank a little.

‘I'm sure you'll find someone else, too,' she added.

‘Not yet.' He drank more tea, put his hand to his brow and tried to smile. ‘That was a blow, Roz.'

‘You said just now that you knew I didn't feel the same. That you weren't expecting me to take you back.'

‘All right, I was hoping I was wrong. That's the truth of it. But to hear you speak, so bluntly – that hurt.'

‘I'm sorry, I couldn't do anything else.'

‘No.' For some time, Jamie sat in silence, finally raising his eyes to Roz as she sat watching him. ‘Well, there was something else I wanted to say to you. I know it's not going to happen now, but I suppose you might as well hear it. The thing is, I'm thinking of starting my own estate agency in Berwick and I wanted you to be part of it.'

‘Me?'

‘Yes. You needn't be a lawyer there. You could work as you want to, become a partner, even. I thought you might consider it. No strings, of course. Coming back to me wouldn't be part of the deal.'

‘Jamie, it would once have been all I wanted.' She set down her cup, her eyes suddenly taking on a lost, sad look. ‘But you're right – it's not going to happen now.'

‘You'd be so good, Roz, working with houses without being held back in any way. It would be the perfect opportunity for you.'

‘The fact is, Jamie, I don't care about houses any more.'

His eyes widened. ‘Don't care about houses? Roz, what are you saying?'

She smiled a little. ‘It's true. Looks like all my life so far, I've been going after the wrong thing. Just came home to me the other day, when someone said that houses shouldn't come before people. I know that's true. There's nothing wrong with working in an estate agency, but now I just want to do something else.'

BOOK: Dreams to Sell
9.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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