yRing for the Nurse(26)

He was actually engaging her in conversation, that was at least a  relief, but determined not to meet him half-way, Felicity resolutely  maintained a silence while, acting on his grudgingly given permission,  she commenced to unpack the suit-case, placing everything in its  appropriate place. It was not until the task was finished and the empty  suitcase stowed away at the back of the built-in cupboard, that she  brought over his pipe. "Here it is, can you manage or shall I help you  fill it?"

"O'Brien used to do it for me, I doubt if you can."

"I expect I can manage as well as he, my father smoked a pipe, he lost  three of his fingers in the war so I learned to do it for him." Felicity  spoke without any show of emotion as, packing the tobacco into the  bowl, she carefully pressed it down. "Here are the matches, you can deal  with those, can't you?"

"Yes, thanks." He took the proffered pipe and drew at it slowly as he  applied a lighted match. "Don't bother with me any more, don't you want  to go to your own room? If there is anything you want, just ring, I  expect there is some kind of housemaid, but get hold of Mackerley if  there is anything you seriously need."

"Then I'll find Mackerley now and ask him about your dinner-tray."  Felicity was by now indifferent to the storm which would probably burst  over her head.

"As you like."

The reply was so unexpectedly docile that Felicity had difficulty in  concealing her amazement; to cover her surprise, she spoke quickly, and  with an instinctive feeling that, if she wanted to get her way, this was  a propitious moment to press her point. "Then I suggest you get into  bed now, I've put your pyjamas and dressing-gown ready."

"I'll change in a moment, but I'm very comfortable sitting here."

Felicity felt it might be unwise to argue, she'd achieved more than  she'd dared hope and was content to let it rest at that. She placed his  gown and slippers within easy reach, then turned to the door. "Have you  any idea which room I'm in?"

"Next door-at least I noticed Mackerley taking your case in there, I  suppose he felt the invalid might feel happier with his nurse close at  hand."

There was a note of sarcasm in his voice which brought the ready flush  to Felicity's cheek. He hadn't spoken in these tones for so long now,  and these last two days he had shown a marked degree of cheerfulness  since she had managed to instil into him some of the confidence she  herself possessed. With unflagging effort she had continued  surreptitiously to encourage him to use his fingers-more and more, until  she knew that he too shared her optimism. Today everything had changed  and she was right back where she had started, shut out and helpless,  since, without his co-operation, how could she be of help?

The room allocated to Felicity was a smaller replica of the bedroom she  had just left. Little seemed to have been done to Weir Court to bring it  in line with the more modern type of country house and even the fitted  basin looked incongruous, wedged between an antique tallboy and an  enormous oak closet, which Felicity felt must surely date back to the  Norman Conquest! The first impression was but short-lived, the strange  room was quickly growing on her, its unfriendly air was already  vanishing, and in its place she began to feel a sense of comfort as if  the shining wood, mellowed with years of polish, held out its arms to  her in understanding and welcome.

Felicity was glad to strip off her jacket and blouse and bathing her  face and hands was certainly refreshing, but having completed the  essential parts of her toilet, the vexed question arose as to what she  was expected to wear! If only Diana had been there with her ready advice  and reassuring manner. Alaine had said something about not  dressing-goodness knows exactly what she'd meant by that. At home they  had always changed at night, not into formal wear unless visitors had  been expected, but certainly into some light garment which added to  one's relaxation at the end of the day. Felicity carefully inspected the  choice at her disposal, then discarding them all, donned one of her  freshly starched uniform dresses. She smiled to herself as she tucked a  wave of hair beneath her starched cap. Sister wouldn't be there to  criticize so perhaps she need not be quite so discreet, she reminded  herself as she pulled forward more hair behind each ear. Diana would be  furious with her if she knew she was wearing uniform. Felicity imagined  her friend's reactions when she confessed her weakness, then, with a  smile still dimpling the corners of her lips, she left the room, dosing  the door gently behind her.                       
       
           



       

She'd scarcely any idea of the layout of the house as yet, but Felicity  felt sure there must be some staircase other than the one which led into  the lounge. A peep over the balustrade of the balcony had told her that  the Colonel was seated in the arm-chair from which he had risen to  greet them; she couldn't see if he'd adopted formal dress, but a black  velvet jacket had replaced the Harris tweed he had been wearing on their  arrival. Alaine was there too, facing Felicity's direction. The smart  brown two-piece she had traveled in was now replaced by a creation of  wine-red silk which, almost reached her ankles, revealed a narrow instep  and high-heeled satin slippers to match. The deep colour of her dress  enhanced the creamy olive of her skin and the coiled knot of dark hair  reflected the light of the glowing fire. She really was attractive,  Felicity thought as, moving carefully so that the starched crackle of  her uniform might not betray her, she set out to seek another stairway.

Her guess had been right and a moment later she stood outside a baize  door which undoubtedly gave on to the kitchen quarters. A warm aroma of  roasting assailed her nostrils as she ventured through the dividing door  and as she entered the kitchen the savoury smell became even more  pronounced.

"May I come in-just for a moment?"



Wiping her hands on her apron Mrs. Mackerley turned from the stove. Her  opening remark was anything but encouraging. "And what were you wanting?  I'm busy now, right in the middle of cooking the dinner, can't take my  eyes off it neither, not with this old-fashioned oven, things either  burn or go off the boil, daren't turn my back and that's the truth."

"Then please don't let me interrupt you-you just get on with what you  are doing." Felicity paused, then added with truth, "What a wonderful  kitchen and how beautifully you keep it ... how can you cook a meal and  yet have everything so tidy?"

"That's method, Miss, that is." Mrs. Mackerley's plump face now creased  into a smile at the praise, Felicity's opening remark could not have  been better chosen. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Mr. Brenton's dinner-on a tray-he has had such a tiring journey I don't  think he should dine downstairs tonight. I hate causing you extra  trouble but it will only be for tonight."

"I reckon the journey was tiring." Mrs. Mackerley tossed her head. "I  was just saying to Mackerley that Mr. Guy would have got better quicker  without Miss Jason, she'll likely fill the house with them noisy friends  of hers, fair racket it is, she don't give me a moment's peace, coming  out here too with her 'Please Mrs. Mackerley this' and 'Please Mrs.  Mackerley that'. Always wanting something for them flighty friends of  hers-just a bit of savoury with the drinks-cups of coffee all hours of  the day and night-I've only one pair of hands-meals!-" She threw her two  hands despairingly above her head. "They just turn up when they're  hungry, why can't they eat regular, like Christians?"

"I don't expect the young lady come down here to listen to all that!"  Mackerley interrupted while he gave the silver dish he was handling an  extra rub. "She come down for a tray for Mr. Guy, there isn't no call  for you to go on like that."

"Miss Jason may be all right in her way but she and me don't see eye to  eye and that's the truth," Mrs. Mackerley retorted, then turned again to  Felicity. "I'll fix a tray now. Miss-how about a drop of soup, it's on  the boil and I can snip off a bit of duck-he's very partial to duck-and  the potatoes and peas is just on ready too."

"That's marvellous-but you must let me help," Felicity exclaimed, as  following the older woman, she began to collect the cloth and cutlery.

By the time Felicity had left the kitchen, balancing the loaded  tray-after a firm refusal to allow Mackerley to carry it for her-she was  satisfied that as far as the Mackerleys were concerned, they'd give her  any help she might need.

On re-entering Guy Brenton's room Felicity found him, true to his  promise, clad in dressing-gown and slippers, ensconced in the arm-chair  before the fire, but the smile with which he had recently been greeting  her arrival in his room at hospital was still missing and he scarcely  acknowledged her entry. While she pulled up a small table and set the  tray at his side, he remained immersed in the paper he was reading, and  it was only at her reminder that his meal would get cold that he folded  up the paper and gave his attention to the tray.