Unknown (7 page)

She felt his sleeve brush against her calf as he replaced the lid on the tobacco jar and became conscious of the warmth of his presence and the rise of her own antagonism as all one sensation. He might only now have noticed that she was there and he raised his face and looked her straight in the eyes, a disconcerting move that put her at an immediate disadvantage because she was not expecting it.

'Good morning.' He continued lighting the pipe, as he spoke, giving it his full attention after that brief disconcerting glance. ‘Have you attended to your patient this morning ?'

Apparently the ill humour of yesterday was no flash in the pan, and she flushed her resentment at the implied laxity on her part despite her resolve to be amiable towards him. There was little she could do about it if he insisted on being so unfriendly.

'
I have,' she told him. ‘He has already had his breakfast and been bathed and tidied.' There was a concise and professional brevity about her answer that should have impressed him with her ability, but she doubted if it would have any such effect. ‘I was up quite early, Mr Davies. I have also,' she added with deceptive meekness, 'had my own breakfast. I hope that's all right.'

‘Perfectly,' he allowed. 'I realize that your day must start quite early, so I don't expect you to wait breakfast for me and I seldom have lunch, so that we shall not be required to meet very often.' Which was as well, she thought, though she did not voice the opinion.

‘I had my breakfast with Mrs Beeley in the kitchen,' she told him. 'It was pleasant to have someone to chat to.' If he cared to take that as a comment on his own unsociability she could not be blamed.

He looked at her with arched brows for a moment, then shrugged. 'If that is as you prefer it,' he said. 'For breakfast time at least it doesn't matter.'

'
Thank, you.' She tried again to see if she could at least let him know that she was quite happy with her patient. 'Mr Emlyn is a model patient,' she said.

He looked as if he doubted the validity of even that statement. 'I'm glad to hear it. If there's anything needed for his comfort please don't hesitate to mention it.' For a moment their eyes met and in that brief meeting her determination to mention the girl she had met the night before wavered and vanished.

'
Does he never have any visitors?' she asked instead.

'
No. He's only been home just over one week, there's scarcely been time, has there?' He frowned as if something in her manner puzzled him. 'Why do you ask?'

'I just wondered, that was all,' she said casually. 'It's usual for young people to have lots of friends and they do visit them as a rule when they're ill.'

'
Hmm.' The answer, if such it could be called, was non-committal and the ensuing silence she found uncomfortable.

'
If you'll excuse me,' she said, 'I'll see if there's anything my patient needs.' She would have gone then and gladly, but he stopped her, his eyes curious as he looked at her.

'
Have
you
no friends, Miss Gaynor? You are, after all, only young yourself.' He drew the pipe into fresh life, putting a screen of smoke between them. 'Have you no boy-friend?'

She flushed, resenting the intimate turn the conversation was taking, but she could hardly refuse without creating a wrong impression, she felt. 'I have friends,' she said slowly, 'though I haven't seen much of them of late. I haven't had much time for going out.'

'No, of course—your father. Doctor Neath told me about him and I'm sorry, it must have been quite a blow to you.' His sympathy was unexpected and as disconcerting as his more usual abruptness. She felt the now familiar coldness in her at the mention of her father and wished she could talk of him without feeling such an awful sense of loss.

‘It was a blow, though not an unexpected one; he was ill for some years and in terrible pain. I—I could hardly begrudge him his peace when it came.' It only left such an empty feeling, she thought, something she could not explain. For the first time she realized that she had heard no mention of his wife, Emlyn's mother, and she wondered how much of his apparent bitterness was due to her absence, whether through death or for some other reason she could not guess. Neither Emlyn nor Mrs Beeley had spoken of a Mrs Davies, nor made any offer to explain her absence as one would have expected in the circumstances.

She recalled that Dai Hughes had mentioned last night that the Davies women were unlucky, and she wondered to what he referred and whether Evan Davies' wife came into that category. 'I'd better go and see to my patient,' she said hastily. 'Please excuse me, Mr Davies.' He watched her go without speaking and she closed the door behind her with an almost audible sigh of relief. There was something overpowering about him that she found hard to cope with; perhaps his wife had been similarly afflicted, though the thought was rather uncharitable, she realized.

Her patient greeted her as though her absence had been a week instead of not much more than an hour. 'I thought you’d deserted me,' he told her.

'
You may not realize it,’ she chided him, 'but I have to eat sometimes too.'

'
It took you a long time,’ he commented, his eyes on her curiously, and she smiled.

'
Since you’re so curious, Mr Emlyn, I stopped for a moment to speak to your father.’

'
Evan? What did he have to say to you?'

'
He—we were talking about my father,’ she told him, 'and I asked if you ever had any visitors.'

'Oh, I see. Well, I don’t,' he said bluntly. 'For one thing Evan doesn’t like people calling at Glyntarrach, especially when he’s working, and for another I wouldn’t like to shock him rigid by filling the house with my more disreputable friends and little dolly girls. I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of them.'

'You make your father sound like a veritable dragon,' she said, not knowing quite why she should bother to defend Evan Davies but feeling that she should. 'Has he no friends of his own?’

He looked as if her defence of his father surprised him and shrugged, his eyes questioning. 'Some, I suppose. He’s not altogether a hermit, but he’s always a bit short on patience when he’s working on a new book, and he doesn’t like little dolly girls anyway.’ His dark eyes watched her gleaming wickedly. ‘I believe he's rather partial to cool and beautiful blondes, though.'

Helen ignored the implication and returned to the original subject.

'
I think it might be good for you to see someone occasionally,' she said. 'It would break the monotony for you.' If she had hoped to draw him on the subject of Tracey Owen, she failed. He shook his head.

'
Not while Evan's working, he wouldn't have it. Besides,' he grabbed at her hand when she came near enough and brought her to a halt, 'now you're here I don't need anyone else.'

She freed her hand gently but firmly and started to tidy the bedside table.

'
Didn't any of your friends come to see you in hospital?' she asked, her mind still on the sad and lonely Tracey Owen.

'
One or two did,' he said, ‘but as I was only half with it most of the time it was a bit pointless and as soon as I was able to take notice I signed the forms and discharged myself.'

'Which was a very silly thing to do,' she told him. 'You would probably have recovered much more quickly in the hospital.'

'
Oh, no, I wouldn't,' he said assuredly. ‘Doctor Neath says I'll be all right, and anyway, Evan wanted me home. Since yesterday I'm even more keen on the idea of having my own private hospital, I'll be up and about in no time, you see.' The dark eyes danced with devilment as he watched her. 'And then you just look out, my blue-eyed beauty!'

'
My job will be finished as soon as you can walk,' she said, trying to keep her face straight, 'so please don't harbour any ideas on those lines, Mr Emlyn.'

'
I could,' he told her solemnly, 'forgive you your hardheartedness if you would stop calling me Mr Emlyn; you sound like some mid-Victorian nanny.'

‘Mrs Beeley calls you Mr Emlyn,' she pointed out reasonably, and he gave a snort of laughter.

'
Dear old Beeley
is
a mid-Victorian nanny,' he said, 'but you're not, so call me Emlyn or I shall be the worst patient you ever had to nurse.' She found no difficulty in believing what he said, for he was obviously used to having his own way in most things, but she merely smiled and moved out of reach of him before he could recapture her hand. 'You're not frightened of Evan, are you?' The question was unexpected and she could find no immediate answer. Frightened was not the term she would have used, but there was something about the older man that made her uneasy. He repeated the question impatiently. ‘Are you, Helen?'

'No. No, of course not!' She found it difficult to be so adamant when he watched her so closely. 'Whatever gives you that idea?' From the way he laughed she knew that he had seen through her bravado.

'
You are,' he insisted, and added, 'I can't think why you should be; he's quite harmless, you know. It's only a local rumour that he eats pretty girls for supper.'

'
I haven't been here long enough to hear any local rumours,' she said lightly, ‘and anyway, I should ignore them if I heard any. I don't like rumours.'

'
Oh, you'll hear them,' he assured her. 'The sins of the Davies are bound to crop up sooner or later.'

'
I have something better to do with my time than listen to gossip,' she told him. 'I hope to be able to see some of the country while I'm here. It looks as if it would be beautiful for walking.'

He eyed her speculatively for a moment without comment.

'
You don't look like the flat shoes and long walks type to me,' he decided at last. 'Besides, you'd get lost, and all sorts of things can happen to a girl. The Welsh hills aren't like the South Downs, you know, it gets cold and misty and
very
dangerous; far better to wait until I'm up and about again and I can come with you.'

'It doesn't get cold and misty in July,' she said. 'It's beautiful weather, and when you're up and about my job will be finished here. It will be too late, I'll be gone.'

'
I refuse to think about you being gone,' he declared.

'
There's a long time yet, and I
will
get on my feet again just to show you that I mean what I say. So don't go walking until I'm ready.'

She laughed at his stubbornness but was, in reality, delighted to see it, for his determination would make her job so much easier. 'I shall have to get in some practice before I can keep up with you,' she told him, and he grinned.

'Well, don't blame me if you do get lost, that's all.'

'I shan't get lost,' she said confidently. 'I shall have a guide, and I'm sure it's not as bad as you say it is.'

'Do you know anyone else here?' he asked, his curiosity aroused by her reference to a guide. 'Except Doctor Neath, I mean?'

She shook her head, smiling. 'No, but Mr Owen Neath will be staying with his uncle before long and I'm relying on him to come with me at least once.'

‘Owen Neath?' She could feel the brown eyes fixed on her questioningly. ‘I didn't know you knew Owen Neath as well as the old man.'

She smiled patiently; really, she might as well have been with the child she had expected to find for all the questions he asked! ‘It's not very surprising, is it, Mr Emlyn? You don't know me at all, there's scarcely been time.'

'
I'll get to know you, never fear,' he told her confidently. ‘And how long
have
you known Owen Neath? Is he your steady ?'

‘Hardly that,' she laughed at his use of the schoolboy term. ‘I met him on the train yesterday.'

‘Aha! So that's it. Owen Neath always did have good taste, I've seen him in Gllanmerran several times with some very delectable lasses.' He smiled at her quizzically. 'So he's coming to stay with his Uncle David, is he, and he's going to take you walking?' She nodded. 'Well, bully for him—he's lucky.' His voice was edged with self-pity, an indulgence, she suspected, he seldom allowed himself. 'Let's talk about something other than walking, can we?' he asked. 'I'm stuck here for heaven knows how long yet. Can you play cards?'

'Some games,' she admitted, 'but nothing complicated.'

'Oh, I'm not bright enough to play complicated games,' he assured her with what she was sure was gross exaggeration. Under his direction she found playing cards in a drawer and they played simple rummy, since this was a game quickly enough over not to try his very short patience and he proved an excitable and not over-scrupulous opponent. It helped to take his mind off the days and weeks to come when he would have to go through a great deal of discomfort and pain to restore his ability to walk. He was not a coward, she thought, but he was young and the prospect of the coming weeks could scarcely be a cheerful one for him.

Helen insisted on the tedious and often painful exercise programme being carried out exactly as Doctor Neath had laid down and she was nearly as exhausted as her patient at the end of it, although Dai Hughes' strong arms and back helped enormously. Every day Emlyn made the same complaints when the time came around for the exercises, but each time he eventually complied without too much fuss, though it was obvious that it did cause him a great deal of discomfort and he invariably slept for an hour or more afterwards.

Evan Davies had visited the room once when they had been going through the exercise programme and had protested about the apparent severity of them, looking at Helen as if he suspected her of deliberately causing his son unnecessary pain. It had taken Emlyn himself to convince him that it was all part of the doctor's programme, but he had never again come during the exercise period.

It was now almost three weeks since Helen came to Glyntarrach and she had heard nothing of Owen Neath until one dinner time the telephone summoned Mrs Beeley from the dining room. 'It's for you, Miss Gaynor,' she said, seeing her employer's frown at the interruption. 'It's Mr Owen Neath.'