To Please the Doctor (29 page)

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

Jill had not
been out long before she began to appreciate the wisdom of Brenda
’
s warning. This was certai
nl
y no weather for walking. Although now there was not the remotest chance of a white Christmas, the weather had turned colder. There was no appreciable wind, but a
mist
blowing inland from the sea f
ill
ed the air with moisture. Still, Jill decided, anything was better than r
emaining
indoors, and undeterred by the elements she strode towards the sea front. No doubt owing to the fact that it was Christmas Eve the promenade was more deserted than usual, and if Jill had sought solitude then she had assuredly found it! It was so dark that she could scarcely dis
tinguis
h familiar landmarks, and at moments small patches of white sea-mist swirled before her, temporarily cutting out all visibility. It recalled to her mind the day of her arrival, but that had been a real, enveloping f
o
g, and she hadn
’
t had the remotest idea of where she was or where she was going
... She caught her breath as she pressed forward; she certainly had not known where she had been going, where the journey would lead heir, yet she felt that during her brief sojourn at Sunsand Bay she had lived through a whole gaunt of emotions, and whatever the future held for her she would, for the rest of her life, bear their scar.

She paused for a moment and, leaning her arms on the rail protecting the promenade, stared out towards the sea; the horizon was completely lost in mist and, from where she stood, she could see eddies like white thistledown, blowing inland, across the beach
.
Since she had rushed from Brenda
’
s presence she had deliberately made her mind a blank, but thought was no longer to be denied and memory came flooding b
ack
, plunging her into the throes of depression. It didn
’
t seem much use to remind herself that Harriet
’
s engagement hadn
’
t really come as a surprise. She admitted that it had been in her mind ever since her mother had suggested the possibility; it was also true that even if
one anticipated distress, it never really hurt until it actually came. Perhaps an element of hope always persisted regardless of odds, and now Jill knew without doubt that all hope and all those cherished dreams had crumbled as dust. To have allowed herself to fall in love with no encouragement whatever was bad enough, but to have persuaded herself that her feelings were returned was the most humiliating part of all. She dropped her hands from the rail and walked on briskly, the strenuous exercise afforded some relief to her feelings, and already she felt more composed. Unconsciously she lifted her head and squared her shoulders. Thank goodness she still had pride, and she was determined she
’
d get this foolishness out of her mind once and for all, and even if it meant walking all night she
’
d face Harriet and Duncan McRey in the morning with a smile on her lips and a genuine desire for their happiness.

At the end of the jetty she turned towards the seat. It was heavy with moisture and felt clammy to her touch, but disregarding such trivialities, she sank down, grateful for the rest. As on her last visit, the tide was low, and a quiet, serene calm enveloped her, a calm which gradually permeated her whole being, and she knew herself to be more at peace than she would have believed possible. If ever she looked back on her stay at Sunsand, she knew she would inevitably recall the jetty; on that first visit, when the storm had beat round her, she had known her first real intimacy with Duncan McRey, had recognized the gentleness which lay beneath his harsh exterior, and she was sure it had been then that, as if borne on the wind, love had first touched her. She had returned to the same spot several times alone, and somehow it had always afforded her a pleasurable sense of isolation and comfort. Then, once again, he had joined her there, and for a fleeting moment she had felt his arms lift her as if from earth to heaven
...
To-night it had brought her resignation and a calm assurance which would carry her through the difficulties immediately ahead. All the pain and jealousy which had stabbed at her heart had miraculously gone, and she knew without a vestige of doubt that she would find the necessary courage to face the
future.

Striking
a match, Jill lit a cigarette and leaned back against the hard wooden seat; now after the glow of exercise she began to feel chilled and shivery. Rolling back the glove at her wrist, she peered at her watch. She still had plenty of time if she was to be sure that the party had dispersed before she called on Nana, but perhaps after all it was unwise to sit any longer, so throwing away her half
-
smoked cigarette she rose to her feet. Crossing to the protecting rail she looked over at the rocks which, with Duncan McRey
’
s help, she had descended to the beach. It might be a good idea to go back that way. It would fill in the necessary time, and the tide was low enough to allow easy walking along the shore. With a last speculative glance at the descent Jill took the plunge, and in a few moments,
was halfway down the incline, stepping carefully over the boulders. It was not so easy to watch her step as it had been at the previous attempt, now bewildering clouds of mist kept blowing across her path, momentarily obscuring her view. The descent was nearly accomplished when a patch, denser than those which had previously blocked her way, drifted across the beach and slowed her progress. Straining through the enveloping cloud, she could see a faint outline of the shelving boulders separating her from the level ground. The prospect of negotiating the slippery seaweed-covered rocks with visibility cut to a few feet was scarcely inviting, and with the growing conviction that it might be better perhaps to retrace her steps, Jill glanced behind her. But now a cloud of mist had become pocketed in the angle formed by the jetty, and the rocks above were entirely blotted out, so that prospect seemed even less inviting. She leaned her back against a projecting boulder, placing her hands palm downwards behind her to protect her coat from the rough barnacles adhering to the surface. No doubt the mist would blow over just as quickly and unexpectedly as it had descended. It was obviously the wisest plan to wait.

Jill let a good ten minutes pass before allowing herself to be convinced that a further wait would not only be futile but risky. There was no sign of any break, and although reluctant to admit it even to herself, she felt sure that, if anything, visibility
had lessened. She could scarcely spend the rest of the evening perched uncomfortably on a rock. Quite apart from the fact that she was beginning to feel horribly cold, the most sensible thing was to
ma
ke
some progress, however slow it might be. Direction didn
’t
really matter; she couldn
’
t be far from the
beach,
and as long as she worked her way downward she couldn
’
t go wrong. Stepping cautiously and using her hands to steady her descent she negotiated the next boulder, then the next, growing more confident as she progressed, and since no one was there to see her, she slithered down the steeper rocks regardless of the indignity of her posture. The descent seemed considerably longer than when she had negotiated it with help, but, she told herself, that was only natural since, instead of bright moonlight to show the way, the wretched mist was sweeping round her, blinding her to all
sense of direction.

Even during that tricky descent Jill had not been aware of any sense of fear, but she was definitely relieved when, through a brief break in the mist, the wet surface of the beach showed a mere couple of feet below where she stood. It may have been her anxiety to reach safe ground before the mist blew over again that made Jill hur
r
y, but as she set her foot down on the last rock, it shitted beneath her weight, throwing her off her balance. Seeking wildly for a hold she gripped a clump of clinging seaweed. For a split second it steadied her, then tore away in her hand, leaving her balanced precariously on the edge. As she tried to right herself, her foot slipped on the slimy surface and she was thrown forward, the wet shingle squelched, breaking the impact of her
”
fall, but her foot twisted agonizingly beneath
her.

Jill
’
s first reaction was one of relief that at least she had been thrown to the beach. It was only when she pulled herself to a sitting position that she became fully conscious of the searing pain in her foot; she had to bite back the cry which sprang to her lips as she tried to straighten it, and a wave of faintness overcame her. Fighting back the weakness, she pulled herself erect, but all her attempts to set her foot to the ground were unavailing, and with a sigh she leaned back against the rock to consider the position. The pain in her foot was settling down to a steady but agonizing throb. She wondered if any bones were broken, but any conjectures regarding the extent of the damage seemed merely futile. Her present concern was to get back. Perhaps a little later she might manage to walk, but making her way across the uneven and stony beach would be impossible and, as far as she could remember, the nearest steps up to the promenade were at least two hundred yards away. The mist made it impossible to verify that belief, but since at the moment she couldn
’
t have walked two yards, let alone two hundred, it seemed of little account.

Jill was naturally clear-headed and not given to unreasonable tears. Even now she was unwilling to admit the danger of her position, but, as the minutes dragged by, she was nearer to panic than she had ever been in her life. The damp and cold were not improving her outlook. Her clothes were sodden, her teeth chattered, and involuntary shivers kept chasing up and down her spine. Gradually she seemed to lose all sense of time, and for a while she was aware of nothing else but pain and cold. It was the lapping sound of the waves which eventually startled her back to reality, and she bit back the cry which sprang to her lips as she realized that, despite the blowing mist, the sea was now visible, the tide had risen to within a few feet of where she sat, and unless she could manage to ascend the rocks fringing the jetty, the part of the beach where she rested would shortly be covered by the sea.

Even now Jill was more conscious of despair than actual fear, another previous determination to forget the past and face the future with new hope, served her now, and she could and would not believe that there was no escape from her present predicament. Biting her lips she forced the shoe from her damaged foot. It had swollen considerably, and even in the half-light she could see the extensive bruising. Taking her scarf from her head she wound it firmly round the damaged limb, then with a determined effort crawled towards an overhanging boulder and, clinging to the rough surface, pulled herself up. It was a slow and painful process. Still, it was a beginning, and gasping with the effort she reached up to get a grip on the next. She was panting with fatigue and pain before she had accomplished a tenth part of the climb. The iron rail of the jetty was still far above the line of her vision, out of sight, blanketed by fog.

The pounding of the waves now breaking on the rocks below was the only sound which broke the still silence of the night, and it was with a feeling of unreality that Jill heard voices on the jetty above. She paused, listening. She must have imagined it. Her heart beat against her ribs as she again strained to listen ... Yes ... it must be
...
surely they were human voices
?

When she called out her own voice sounded high-pitched and eerie as it echoed among the high boulders. What followed was a blank. She knew nothing until she felt strong arms lift her, and it was only when she lay stretched out on the hard wooden seat of the jetty that consciousness returned; even then she still felt dazed and bewildered. She knew her head was cradled against someone
’
s arm, that another figure leaned over her prostrate form. She wanted to open her eyes, to see, to speak
..
.
it seemed too much effort, as if her eyelids were heavily sealed and her lips too cold to utter sound.

“
It was lucky I brought the car.
”

Duncan McRey
’
s voice was like a lash to Jill
’
s consciousness. She opened her eyes
an
d with a tremendous effort pulled herself up into a sitting position.
“
It
’
s you ... I didn
’
t know ... I ... I ... oh, I
’
m so glad you found me!
”

“
It was the sheerest chance. We searched the beach and the jetty. It didn
’
t enter my head to look half-way down the rocks.
”

“
I ... I tried to get up
...
the tide was coming in,
”
Jill faltered, miserably aware of his anger.

“
So I imagine. What a damn fool thing to do. What on earth
ma
de
you venture down there with a sea mist blowing up
?
...
You must be crazy!
”

Jill fought back the tears which stung her eyes. These last few weeks had taught her how easy it was to turn aside his anger
...
how readily she could stand against it, but not now ... She felt that at this moment his disapproval would break down the last threads of her control.
“
I
...
I
didn
’
t think...
”
she faltered miserably.

“
Then you should have done
... Of all the hare-brained schemes
...
attempting those rocks in bad visibility
...
”
He broke off impatiently and turned to address the form which Jill with a feeling of relief was able to recognize as Brenda.
“
I
’
ll carry her along to the car; get her straight back to my place, she
’
d better have a rest there before returning to hospital.
”

It was not t
h
e first time that Jill had known the strength of those arms, but this time it roused within her no emotion other than that of blissful security. There were no quickened heart beats, only a feeling of perfect safety. She felt utterly relaxed as she let her head fall back against his shoulder, and although his harsh words still rang in her ears, he held her gently as if fearful of causing her the slightest discomfort.