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Authors: Marjorie Moore

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Jill didn

t believe that she had ever been conscious before
of
t
he incongruity of ringing the bell for the mere purpose of pulling curtains across the windows. It was the natural procedure in a house run as Lady Hallard ran Brent Towers and she had always accepted it as long as she could remember. It must have been Duncan McRey

s presence which made the request jar, he had neither looked at her nor even moved, but Jill was certain that a fleeting expression of contempt had crossed his features. It seemed strange that, instead of anger, she felt its justification, and hoping that neither Trevor nor her mother would comment on her behaviour, she rose from her chair and pulled the curtains quickly across the window.

It certainly does look like snow,

she found herself speaking to cover her own action, and went on, eager to set the ball rolling,

I don

t think it

s quite as cold as it was, but then it often warms up a bit before snowing, doesn

t it?

She recognized the triviality of her remark, but she had at least regained her seat without her mother commenting on her unprecedented action.


Are you returning to St. Joseph

s tonight or in the morning?

Ignoring her futile question, Duncan McRey asked Jill, as he handed her his cup to be refilled.


Tonight. The connections are so bad that I couldn

t get there in the morning, however early I left.


I suppose not.

He seemed to have lost interest in the subject and began to discuss the local golfing facilities with Sir Trevor, a subject about which he seemed far more interested. As it transpired during the conversation that Duncan McRey played to a plus two handicap, Jill was hardly surprised.


You must come over for a game one day. It

s one of the best courses in the country, some even liken it to St. Andrews, but it

d hardly go as far as to say that,

Sir Trevor laughed.

Now don

t forget, don

t wait for an invitation, just ring through and fix a day. You

ll have to give me a few strokes, but not as many as you think,

he added with some gratification.


Trevor plays to a six when he is on his game, but he is terribly erratic,

Jill explained, glad of the easy turn the conversation had taken.

Don

t ever let him discuss politics before or during a round, he gets so rattled he can

t even hit the ball!

As Jill listened to the two men discussing first golf, then other mutual interests, she realized she was seeing yet another side of Duncan McRey

s character; he seemed extraordinarily unreserved with her stepfather, completely opposite as they were. She couldn

t imagine why it should
matter, but she was aware of pleasure that he had responded so readily to Trevor

s show of friendship, the air of unreality which had persisted at his first visit had left her. The fact that this man was sitting in the intimacy of her home, in the armchair which she could recall, years gone by, had been her father

s favourite chair, it suddenly seemed natural as if it had to be. He had found his way into the sacred precincts of her nursery, had fondled the teddy bear with which she had shared her childish dreams, and now in some inexplicable way he had become part of her home, no longer an incongruous addition.


I must be getting back.

His sudden statement roused Jill from her reverie.

Are you ready?

he asked, addressing Jill
.


Ready? What do you mean?

she questioned with some surprise.


I suppose you

ll come back with me, won

t you? Or have you made other arrangements?


I was going by train. It would be a great help to have a lift.

Jill was so surprised that her tone was scarcely gracious. She was aware of her mother

s somewhat grudging thanks and Trevor

s warm encouragement of the suggestion as she still waited, uncertain as to whether Duncan McRey really expected an acceptance. She was still in a state of bewilderment by the turn affairs had taken when she found herself seated beside him in an antique-looking car with her suitcase on the back seat, turning down the drive of Brent Towers.

 

CHAPTER TEN

Jill imagined s
he was familiar with every rut in the winding lane leading to Brent Village, but she was certainly discovering some more now, since the car seemed entirely springless and at the speed at which they were travelling it needed all her concentration to cling on to her seat.


Shocking bit of road!

Duncan McRey observed as he negotiated the last corner before reaching the village.

Springs in this car aren

t too good either. Perhaps after all it might have been kinder to let you go by train.

Jill was beginning to think exactly the same thing, but as they reached a stretch of main road she found herself settling down more comfortably. Even now his driving was far too indicative of the man for her to be completely at ease. He seemed to be tearing up the mileage with exactly the same ruthlessness with which he tackled most things.


Are you fairly comfortable?

Since he had inserted

fairly

she was glad to be able to reply with reasonable truth.

Yes, thanks, it

s certainly less bumpy now.


This is a pretty awful car. I bought it years ago, when I held my first appointment in Glasgow. In those days I had little money but plenty of time, which I spent going round the car showrooms and making up my mind what model I

d buy if I ever had the cash. Now I have got the cash all right, but I haven

t the time to go and see about it!

Jill cou
l
dn

t help laughing. This seemed to be yet another side of his nature, a childlike quality quite out of keeping with his general make up.

I rather think that necessity will force the issue soon. Surely the radiator ought not to steam in this cold atmosphere?


I expect it

s leaking again.

He spoke without any sign of concern. It was obviously a contretemps to which he was accustomed.

May as well get on until it really boils.


Nice to think that something can boil on a night
like this!

Jill rubbed her frozen feet one against the other in an attempt to restore circulation, but the irony of her remark was obviously lost on her companion, and when he spoke his tone was one of surprise.


You aren

t cold, are you?


No, I

m just frozen.

Jill felt more at her ease than at any other time in Duncan McRey

s presence. It was difficult to determine exactly why, but away from the background of hospital and his work he had suddenly become different. That feeling was only increased when he drew the car to a screeching standstill at the side of the road and turned an anxious face towards her.


Are you serious—do you want a rug or something
?


You really mean that there is a rug in the car?

Jill asked, turning round to scan the back seats where, sure enough, her suitcase rested on a neatly folded rug.

And to think I

ve been sitting here f
r
eezing all this time
...

She broke off as he stretched out his arm for the rug, then tucked it carefully round her knees.


Sorry, I forgot, I

m not used to passengers. I only keep it in the car to cover the bonnet when she

s standing.

Jill could well believe that. Its condition suggested that such might be its primary use, but it was much too warm and comforting for her to worry unduly about details as to its cleanliness, and she sat back with a sigh of relief as the car shot forward again into the darkness.


We

d better stop and fill up the radiator at the next village,

he suggested.

Maybe you

d like some refreshment too?


I

d love a hot drink,

Jill agreed, but she couldn

t help wondering whether he would have been in the
least
concerned for her needs if the engine

s requirements hadn

t necessitated a stop.

There

s a cosy little place where Philip and I stopped on the way out. It

s clean and pleasant, and I happened to notice that they were open Sundays

until eight.

It seemed strange to Jill to be back at the

Coffee Bean,

where such a short while ago she and, Philip had drunk coffee. They

d discussed Dr. McRey too
...
yet how much more she knew of him
now ...
She had not known then that she would ever feel his arms round her, know the comforting strength of his presence; she had, at that
time,
been relieved to be free of his dominating personality for
a while, then in her anxiety she had instinctively sought it
...
How could she have dreamed that she would ever sit at this very same table with him, at ease in his company, barely speaking yet deeply conscious of companionship? Her eyes wandered to his strong hand as it stirred the coffee in his cup, to his face, the features clearly outlined against the leaping flame of the burning log fire, and with her growing understanding, she found an added attraction in the finely cut features and the strong yet gentle curve of the lips.


This was a good idea of yours,

he admitted as he set his cup back in the saucer after taking a drink.

Had it been her idea? Jill hardly knew.

I think it was your suggestion,

she admitted with a provocative smile which brought the dimples to her cheeks.


Your idea by suggestion. I should never have stopped if I

d been on my own.

With an abrupt change of subject, he continued:

Still harbouring any resentment that I wouldn

t let you stay to look after that brother of yours?


No. I think I knew you were right at the time—afterwards I was quite sure.


I

m usually right.

There was that note of complacency in his tone which had hitherto irritated Jill beyond words. Now, it left her entirely untouched by rancour. She let it pass unnoticed and busied herself refilling his empty cup.


I told you that I had no regrets at not nursing Terry.

Jill began diffidently, then, gaining courage, lifted her face to her companion as she went on.

I expect you

ll be going down again in a day or so—possibly earlier if Dr. Sharland needs you.

She stopped for a moment to steady her voice.

If ... if anything happens ... then you

d understand my going back, wouldn

t you?


Nothing is going to happen.

Again that note of calm assurance was in his tone, and this time it actually warmed Jill

s heart.

You mean that?

she almost whispered the words, then added,

His temperature, it hasn

t settled.


It will. A couple of days longer and he

ll begin to show improvement.

He beckoned the waitress and settled the bill, struggled into his heavy overcoat. Then, picking up his hat,
held the door open for Jill.

Only a few words, yet, as she ste
pped out into the cold
night
,
Jill felt she was walking on air. She felt no desire to ask more no anxiety to question his statement. She onl
y
knew that her faith in this man was as immovable as a mountain. There was little conversation between them during the latter half of the journey. Thoroughly warm now and cuddled down under the rug from which emanated the soporific smell of petrol, Jill gave herself up to her thoughts; the roads were smoother and she scarcely noticed the jolting. Steam blew back from the radiator to freeze on the windscreen,
but, like her companion, she now found herself ignoring such trivialities.


I
have just remembered, I said I

d dine with Harriet!


Goodness! You

ll be late; we shouldn

t have stopped so long at the Coffee Bean.

Jill peered anxiously at her wrist-watch in the semi-darkness.

I don

t see how you can get there until after eight.


I think you

d better come along with me. We approach Sunsand from that end of the town, so it will save me quite a bit of time if I don

t go as far as St. Joseph

s first. Anyway, you

d better come,

he added as an afterthought.

It may serve to temper Harriet

s annoyance if you are there too.

Jill couldn

t discern his expression, but she could picture the half smile which no doubt accompanied the words.

You sound almost scared of her,

she said with some amusement.


I have an intense aversion to being nagged at if I

m late for a meal,

he admitted.

Women are apt to be bullies, you know!


Some
m
en, too,

Jill retorted promptly, but there was an underlying edge to her tone which could hardly have escaped her companion, and although he made no reply Jill knew he turned his head for a moment in her direction; then, apparently thinking better of it, remained silent, concentrating again upon the winding road ahead.

The conversation was desultory until the car drew to a standstill at Harriet

s house. Duncan McRey had instinctively increased his speed, and Jill felt it as well to leave him free to give his full attention to the driving, and as the speedometer needle touched sixty she felt he needed it. Anyway, they had safely reached their destination, and she was glad to stretch her cramped limbs, but in spite of all its discomforts she knew that, curiously enough, the time had passed in a flash, and she had enjoyed every moment of the journey. She was conscious of an inward sense of pleasure too, that the day was not yet over; that, quite unexpectedly, a pleasant evening with Harriet lay ahead. Of course it was stupid, but somehow the idea of parting from him at the hospital gates with the prospect of a lonely supper in the nurses

dining hall ahead of her, had seemed like an anti-climax. An anti-climax to what? She didn

t really know, but it was very much better the way things had turned out.


I like your idea of a seven o

clock dinner!

Harriet exclaimed as she opened the door; then, perceiving Jill, added:

I

d no idea you

d be with Duncan, but I

m glad you came. Come along in both of you. I

ll tell Mrs. Sidons we

re one extra, while you two help yourselves to drinks—they are all ready on the table,

she called back as she disappeared towards the kitchen.


See how the presence of one of her own sex tempered her anger?

Duncan McRey asked with a twinkle in his blue eyes as, having divested himself of his coat, he turned to help Jill with hers.

I should have been chivvied to death if you hadn

t been with me.


I can hardly believe that.

Jill advanced to the fire and held her chilled fingers to the blaze. In a moment he had joined her, a glass of sparkling liquid in his hand.

Here, drink this, it will warm you more quickly than anything else.

Jill took the proffered drink with a smile and set it down on the mantel while she continued to bring some life back to her numb fingers.

I can

t even hold it yet, my fingers are quite dead. I can

t imagine what yours must be like driving all those miles.


I wear proper gloves, not wisps of suede.

He took Jill

s hands in his.

Warm enough, aren

t they?


They certainly are.

She made an effort to withdraw her fingers from his warming grip; there seemed a familiarity about the gesture which she found strangely discomfiting, but when he commenced to massage her hands gently back to life she felt it might appear ungracious to make her reluctance too obvious. The ridiculous part was that she knew the attention pleased her. The contact was not only physically but mentally warming, and quite unconsciously she found herself recalling Philip

s efforts to warm her fingers at the

Coffee Bean

on their journey down; it had seemed so natural and had neither pleased nor embarrassed her.


Warmer now?

The question brought Jill back to the moment, and with consternation she realized that although his intention was accomplished and her hands rested warm in his, she had made no effort whatever to withdraw them. Flushing with confusion, she dropped them quickly to her side, then, with a self-conscious laugh, turned her attention to the drink he had poured for her.

This is very nice,

she remarked with as much composure as she could muster.

What is it—whisky?

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