Hospital in the Highlands (16 page)

So Flo went home, and immediately was aware of “atmosphere” in her own house.

Meg’s greeting was particularly brusque.

“So you’re back,” she stated flatly.

Pixie broke in with, “How’s Jim? We asked every day, you know!
They kept putting us off with ‘as well as can be expected’, or ‘no change’.”

“There wasn’t any change u
n
til today,” Flo smiled, regarding Meg’s back questioningly. “He recovered consciousness and I’m sure he’s going to be all right.”

Fay was home and wearing a new cherry-red cocktail dress. She turned like a mannequin, looking very lovely, her hair draped over one shoulder.

“Like it?” she asked, confidently.

“Very much,” Flo said.

“Fay has a
protégée
,” Pixie announced.

“Idiot!” said the other. “I have a patron, you mean, or rather a patroness.” She smoothed her dress with sensuous fingers.

“What is this, Meg?” Flo inquired, determined to bring the older girl into the conversation. “Did you know about it?”

Meg flashed suddenly, “If you weren’t too preoccupied with your own selfish concerns you might hear a bit more of your family’s doings. Fay isn’t associating with a white slave trafficker, if that’s any comfort to you.”

The door closing behind her made a resounding explosion throughout the house.

Flo turned to the others, pale now, and very tense.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been very attentive here,” she apologized and sat down as her knees gave way suddenly. “I stayed at the hospital simply until Jim regained consciousness. Naturally I was worried about him.”

“I understand, old thing,” Fay said magnanimously, and thoughtfully poured a glass of sherry, which she waved under Flo’s nose encouragingly. “Frankly I haven’t missed you at all. I should think old Meg’s a bit cheesed off because her big news has gone stale waiting for you. You’ll never believe this, but our Maggie has a follower.”

“She’s practically engaged
again
!”
Pixie seconded.

“To that awful old drip of a parson,” Fay concluded. “Can you see anything in Lammering, apart from the fact that he’s exactly like any other average-looking male?”

“I think he’s very nice," Flo said loyally, “and I’m glad for Meg, if it’s true. Aren’t you? Is she going to accept him?”

“She
w
as at first,” Pixie said, “and now she’s wobbling. She’s been in this foul mood all evening, calling me a millstone and you a Jezebel.”

“Good gracious!” Flo exclaimed. “I’ve been called some things in my time—!”

“I must admit Meg’s been a bit cracked ever since I arrived home,” Fay! pondered. “She’d had a visitor. A car passed me on the drive, but I didn’t recognize it. D’you know, young ’un?”

“No. I was eating in the kitchen wi’ Janet. There was a bit of a row, though.”

Flo rose.

“I’ll go and see Meg, I think.”

“Just a moment,” Fay stayed her. “She’ll keep, and her tantrums too. I feel like telling you about my good luck, if you’ve a mind to listen.”

Flo leaned back again attentively.

“Madame Dunfonteau has been staying at the hotel. She’s a famous cellist, you know, and came over for the Festival. Unfortunately she’s an asthmatic and has to seek the highland air between events. She heard me play—all the usual drive!—then Alec allowed me my first solo, and I played the theme from the Concerto, unaccompanied. I got a wonderful reception
...”
Fay’s e
yes were ablaze as she remembered ... “And so Madame made herself known to me. She’s fat, getting old, but still a marvellous musician, and she took to me like her own daughter. I think she understands me, Flo, more than you
o
r Meg or IT ever will,” she grimaced at Pixie, “and she wants me to go and live with her—she has a chateau in the foothills of the French Alps—and study, a
n
d study, and then appear at concerts when I’m good and ready. You won’t stand in my way,
will you, Flo?” There was now desperation in the young voice.

Flo could scarcely believe she had not been listening to a fairy tale. She shook her head dazedly.

"How do we know Madame’s above board
,
Fay?”

“Just what Meg said, first thing,” Fay scowled. “Well, Mike Lammering went to see her, and
he’s
satisfied. Of course Madame wants to see you—all of us—before anything’s settled. She simply doesn’t want my musical future to be wasted.”

“
And you—” Flo pressed on; “you’re sure it’s not the French chateau and the visions of glamor you’ve conjured up which are now influencing you? I seem to remember you were always going to get married as soon as you could. You’ll have to put the idea of
marriage off for quite a while if Madame does sponsor your career, you know.”

“So what? Music’s my soul—my life,” Fay declaimed dramatically. “Men—and marriage—were merely possibilities in the gaining of my end. Now that I’ve got Madame, I don’t want men.”

“You’re obviously not in love, young lady. Well, you have my blessing if all’s as good as it sounds. Not being in a position to give you opportunities of such magnitude myself, I certainly won’t stand in your way. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Now, I must go and straighten myself out with Meg. Isn’t it your bedtime, Pixie?”

“Yes. But I’m no’ keen to miss any fun that’s going. I’ll toddle up when I’m ready.”

The remembrance of Meg’s bitter condemnation burdened Flo like a physical weight as she climbed the stairs. Why was she expected to understand without ever being understood? Too long she had been her family’s stay, she now knew to her cost; she had only to withdraw her support a little for somebody to be upset and angry at her for their own inadequacy.

“Come in!” Meg snapped as she knocked at the door between them.

Flo entered her sister’s bedroom determined not to quarrel. “The others told me about you and Mr. Lammering,” she said hastily; “at least they gave me their version of the story, and though I can scarcely believe it I—I’m thrilled to bits for you, Meg. It is true that he proposed to you, is it? I never suspected things had gone so far.”

Meg was sitting at the dressing-table brushing her hair into a halo.

“Perhaps your conscience is easier' now that another man has looked in my direction?”

Flo flushed and sat on the bed.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when it actually happened,” she said levelly, “but as it was I don’t think my conscience can be called to account as much as circumstances over which I definitely had no control. Jim and I had things to tell one another, also.”

“Nobody’s questioning that,” snapped Meg. “I was as happy for you and Jim as I was happy for myself until—today.”

“And what happened today?”

Meg choked. “Your ex-boyfriend called to see me.”

The unknown visitor!

Flo furrowed her brow. Was Meg referring to Robert Strathallan by any chance? Did she suspect the truth?

“How interesting!” she exclaimed weakly. “I haven’t a large circle of ex-boyfriends. In fact I would have thought such a person would have called to see
me,
if anybody.”

“Yes, you would!” Meg turned to revile her, bitterly. “You want them all, don’t you? I can’t imagine how you manage to look so innocent and fool everybody. I suppose you’ll cast your eyes on Michael now, and before I know where I am he’ll be off with
you
to Sikkim, and I’ll be left behind bringing Pixie up, which is what you want for me, isn’t it?”

Flo’s heart was fluttering now like a wild bird in her chest. She suddenly realized what was upsetting her sister.

“It was Keith Bexley who came to see you, wasn’t it?” she asked sharply.

“Who else?”

“Well, he’s no friend of mine for a start, nor yours, nor anybody’s. You’re well rid of him.”

“Apparently you decided that a long time ago, dear, loyal sister!”

“Now look here, Meg, I don’t know what Keith told you about me, but it was very probably lies. At least give me a chance to answer for myself. Of what do I stand accused?”

“Keith says he fell in love with you, which was why he gave me up; jilted me; threw me over; any pretty phrase you like.”

Flo was silent.

“Well?” demanded Meg aggressively. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I asked what
I
was accused of. I can’t answer for Keith, can
I?”

“Hoity toity! You do admit that he fell in love with you, then? Dear me! who could have guessed that you were such a charmer?”

“I marvel myself,” Flo agreed, hanging on to her temper by a superhuman effort. “But one hadn’t to be so wonderful to captivate Keith in those days, though I trust you’ll pardon my saying so. One had merely to resist him, which I did with all my
heart and soul. I never wronged you with Keith, Meg, no matter what he says to the contrary.”

The elder girl began to look a little less certain of herself. “It hurts—knowing your own sister was the one,” she breathed in a harsh whisper.

“I think I knew it would hurt,” Flo agreed, “which was why I never wanted you to be told, Meg.
I
wouldn’t have told you.”

“But you knew, didn’t you? You were always that much wiser about the affair than I was. I was merely asked to break my heart over a—a miserable little cheat who could turn to my own sister a
n
d—and—”

“And get his face slapped for his pains,” Flo concluded hotly. “I thought it was you and Michael now, Meg. Can’t Keith be forgotten after all this time? Are you going to let him break your new love affair up before it’s properly begun?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been so angry and so miserable since he was here. He said you wouldn’t let him come and see me when he wanted to make amends for the past.”

“Because he hadn’t been two minu
t
es at The Glen before trying to start things up with me again. That’s why. If you think I was going to give him access to you after that you don’t know me, Meg.”

“Well, I have been seeing him for some time, you know, and he did propose again. What have you to say to that?”

“I’ll tell you what happened, shall I? You turned him down, told
him about Michael, and then he’d have done anything to secure your interest in him. He told you about his past feeling for me, made the most of it and started this whole train of mischief. He’s hoping we’ll be at each other’s throats, can’t you see? And if Michael sees you—like this
—he
might be influenced, too, and then Keith has won what he set out to do.”

“What do you mean?” Meg demanded, fear in her eyes at long last.

“I mean you haven’t been a very lovely person this past hour, Meg. That’s what I mean. It would be as well for you to forget what a dreadful menace
I
am and concentrate on your chances of happiness with someone worthy of you. If Keith Bexley thinks this affair is over—his and mine—he has another thing coming. Now that I don’t have to consider possible repercussions damaging you I can tell a certain doctor exactly what I think of him and be half a stone lighter in the process!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

F
lo arrived at the hospital next day in good time to re-acquaint herself with the famous consultant neurologist, for she had other fish to fry first. Keith Bexley, however, as though anticipating her mood, was officiously busy whenever she asked to see him. She did not succeed in running him to earth until he appeared in
Matron's office fawning around Sir Felix, and then, because he was by nature his own worst enemy, she began to feel rather sorry for him and the snubbing he invariably invited and had perforce to take.

“This is Sister Lamont, sir,” Keith introduced without preamble. “The patient is her—er—
fiancé
I think is the current epithet?” He smiled distantly in Flo’s direction as though hoping he wasn’t offending her.

“What’s wrong with being a sweetheart?” Sir Felix demanded in his bluff Yorkshire voice. “Have fashions changed in love, then?”

Keith tittered.

“I shouldn’t think so, sir,” he said daringly, as one man to another. “A kiss and cuddle by any name would stir the old blood the same, what?”

The Consultant looked at Keith as though he was a new culture on a micro-slide, something to be watched as being a possible source of infection. He then turned his frowning gaze upon Flo and squeezed her small hand in his big one. “I saw you the other day, I know,” he said, “and your face was with me all the way back to Edinburgh. Didn’t I once give you a medal?”

“You did, sir,” Flo dimpled, pleased at being remembered.

“I said you would go far,” he now accused her. “Why haven’t you?”

Matron coughed somewhat huffily, and Flo felt embarrassed suddenly.

“We do some good work at The Glen, sir. I’ve been very happy here.”

“Rubbish!” he exclaimed. “You do nothing here a lot of probationers couldn’t do. You haven’t even a decent theater to work in. It’s no good you scowling at me, Molly MacDonald, this is a grand nurse gone to waste.”

“Sister isn’t manacled,” said Matron tartly. “She was free to come and she’s free to go. It so happens she found working at The Glen convenient for her domestic arrangements. She has a house in the district and—of course—she intends getting married.”

“Not for ages, though,” Flo cut in hastily, “and I repeat, I like working here very much.”

“Well, let’s go and see the boy,” said Sir Felix gruffly. “You come along, Sister. I should say you’re quite an interested party.”

“I don’t think we’ll need you, Strathallan,” Keith said as Robert opened the door for the Consultant to go through. “It isn’t quite your department, is it, old chap?”