Harbinger of Spring (26 page)

‘
But it can
’
t be. I
’
m going to have to lease Fenchurch Mill for as much as I can get for it. I won
’
t ever
see you again, and it
’
s going to break my heart. You see I
...’

Sara struggled to get the last word out, but the sedative overpowered her.

CHAPTER VIII

Being managed as well as looked after was an entirely new experience to Sara and she was not sure that she liked it. Martha proved to be an overpowering personality. She ordered Sara about and would not allow her to come downstairs at all before lunch.

For a few hours Sara submitted to Martha
’
s taking charge of her, but as her natural resilience built up her worries returned and her irritation at being almost helpless grew.

She was not ill, but she would not be able to use her hands perhaps for a few days. She told herself to stop worrying and appreciate what was being done for her. What did a few days matter? True, her arms and shoulders ached and her hands were terribly sore, but they would not be so for very long. In the meantime she ought to feel very grateful that downstairs Martha seemed to be moving throughout the house like a tornado. She was very, very kind. So was Ted who was willingly fending for himself while his wife was away from home. The doctor, too, who had turned out late at night for what must have seemed a trivial reason.

As for Hugh, Sara wanted to weep each time she thought about him. It just didn
’
t seem possible that a man could be so wonderful to a woman without being in love with her. But there was Rosamond, and Sara had no need to recall the indulgent, almost doting way in which Hugh regarded her. That was the way of things, and she must accept the fact. Rosamond was a very sweet girl, no wonder he loved her.

Sara flung back the bedclothes and crossed to the window. This enforced inactivity was worse to endure than her aches and pains.

At last she heard
Martha
’
s heavy tread on the stairs
and went to open
the door using only the unbandaged
tips of her fingers
on the door handle.

‘
Can I come down now?
’
she asked.

‘
Yes—but mind how you go.
Some of those stairs
are rather worn and I wouldn
’
t
like you to miss your
footing.
‘

Sara laughed and said she was
well used to the stairs
by now, but Martha fussed as
though Sara was an
invalid, helping her all the way to
a chair in the sitting
room. There before the fire
was set a small table and
Martha served her with an
excellent meal of beef soup,
chicken pie and vegetables
with fruit and fresh cream
to follow. The remains of
the meal had hardly been
cleared away when Sara
heard the doorbell ring and
Hugh came into the room.
He looked at her critically.
‘
Well, you seem
to have
recovered somewhat.
’

‘
Oh yes, beyond a few
aches and pains, I
’
m quite all
right. I can
’
t thank
you enough for all you did,
’
she
said, her heart beating
erratically.

He placed a small bundle
of newspapers and magazines
on the table.

‘
I
’
ve brought
you some reading matter. I had to
guess at your
taste in fiction, so try not to be too hard
on me if I
’
ve brought
all the wrong stuff.
’

‘
It was
—
kind of
you even to think of it. But what
’
s
in
the
folder underneath
the papers?
’

‘
Some sketches
and photographs of mine. I thought they might
pass away
a little time for you.
’

‘
I
’
m
sure they
’
ll
do more than that.
’
She paused as a thought
suddenly
came to her.
‘
How did you know I was in the
Mill?
If it hadn
’
t been for you I might
have been there all
night at the very least.
’

He smiled
faintly.
‘
As a matter of fact I was feeling annoyed that you
’
d left the lights on. Since you
’
ve had
the
roadway opened the light from the top is like a wa
rn
ing beacon to all the nightlife, but thank goodness I did happen along. How on earth did you come to get locked in?
’

‘
It—just happened. I left the door open as I went up the steps. Then I opened a top floor window to let in some air—I forgot all about the strength of the wind and—
’

‘
And the door slammed shut. I wouldn
’
t have thought it would have jammed it all that hard.
’

‘
It didn
’
t. The spindle going through the lock had worn so thin that it just snapped off and left me without a handle on my side.
’

‘
I see. It must have been a shock finding yourself locked in there. It
’
s a wonder you weren
’
t driven half crazy.
’

‘
I wasn
’
t far from it at one time. But I—I don
’
t want to talk about it, if you don
’
t mind.
’

His presence was beginning to unnerve her. Against her will she found herself recalling the half-conscious memory of being held in his arms as he carried her to the house. Yet she knew the utter futility of dwelling on those moments. Martha coming into the room helped her to get a grip on her emotions.

‘
I
’
m going to do a bit of shopping, Sara. Is there anything you need? I thought a nice bit of plaice for your tea.
’

‘
Thank you, Martha, that would be very nice. My purse is in my handbag on the hall table.
’

‘
That
’
s all right. We can settle up afterwards. I might be gone a couple of hours.
’
She turned to Hugh.
‘
See that she doesn
’
t try to do anything with those hands, and make her a cup of tea when she wants it.
’

‘
I will,
’
Hugh said gravely.

She went out of the room and the next moment they heard the outer door slam behind her. For a moment Sara panicked at being left alone with Hugh, then they
both started to laugh.

‘
She
’
s what
’
s known as the salt of the earth,
’
Hugh said.
‘
You should hear her giving Ted his instructions.
’

‘
Does he pay any attention?
’

‘
Very little. He just trims his sail accordingly and carries on, on the same course.
’

‘
How like a man
!’

‘
There can only be the one pilot.
’

‘
And it must be a man?
’
she countered.

‘
Don
’
t let
’
s get on to women
’
s rights. Are you going to let your father know what
’
s happened?
’

‘
I don
’
t think it
’
s necessary. My hands will be perfectly all right in a few days. I
’
ll tell him about it some time. In any case, he may not be in London at the moment.
‘

There was a short silence. Hugh eyed her keenly, then he said in a voice so kind she felt she could not endure it,

‘
Is something the matter? I mean other than the pain and discomfort from last night
’
s affair?
’

Anything the matter.
She averted her head and one bandaged hand came up to her face to hide her quivering mouth. The next moment he was at her side, pulling away her hand and tilting up her chin.

‘
Tell me about it. Talking things out does help.
’
Talking things out.
If only he was some kind of stranger to whom she could blurt out the truth of her devastating love for him! She swallowed hard and temporized with part of the truth.

‘
It
’
s Desmond. He
’
s—he
’
s let me down regarding our business.
’

Once she had started Sara found she could not stop. Every fear and anxiety she had for the future poured out in a torrent of words which she could not seem to
stem.

‘
And you
’
ve told your father none of this?
’
Hugh
as
ked.
‘
Why
?
Are you afraid of what he
’
ll say
?
’

‘
Not really. He would come rushing to help me.
’

‘
Well? Wouldn
’
t you do the same for him if he was in the same kind of difficulty?
’

‘
Of course I would, but that
’
s not the sort of thing that could happen to my father. He
’
s a very good businessman.
’

‘
Being taken in by crooks happens to a lot of good businessmen,
’
he told her.
‘
But that
’
s not the point. Your father loves you. Don
’
t you think you ought to give him the chance to show it? Wouldn
’
t you be just a little hurt if the circumstances were reversed?
’

‘
Yes, I suppose you
’
re right. I
’
ll telephone this evening and see if he
’
s at home.
’

‘
Good.
’
Hugh went back to his own chair. Then he said thoughtfully:
‘
Tell me—did you ever
design
any of the clothes you sold in your shop
?
’

She looked at him in astonishment.
‘
That
’
s an inspired guess. I did, as a matter of fact. But I should have spent more time studying fabrics.
’

‘
But when you detailed your conversation with the employment exchange official you made no mention of your art studies.
’

‘
I didn
’
t think they were worth mentioning.
’

He shook his head at her.
‘
You
’
re entering into a world you
’
re not used to, Sara. You
’
ll have to learn to sell yourself.
’

‘
I don
’
t seem to have very much to sell.
’

‘
I suppose you still have some of your art school work at home?
’

‘
Oh yes, lots of it.
’

‘
Then send for it and let me look at it. You may have more potential than you realize. I
’
ll tell you what. Let me dial your home number for you and you ask
Mrs.
Worthing to pack your folders and send them to Norwich by passenger train. They
’
d be in Norwich by
morning and I could bring them here for you.
’