“I’m so afraid, Martin.”
He enfolded her in his arms. “Of what, my beloved? You’ll belong to me always. We love each other. There will be a way.”
Andrea was comforted but not wholly convinced. Yet, as the weeks passed and she was back on duty in the theatre again, she seemed almost to settle into a kind of routine; her work in the theatre — visits to Godfrey — her lectures — and so on.
Occasionally she went for a drive with Martin in his car. Mostly, they talked, learning something of each other’s background and family. As Andrea spoke of her mother, Martin’s arm tightened around her.
“You must meet my mother quite soon,” he said. “You will love her as she will love you. You will love our house, too. At present, my mother is living there alone, except for a companion-housekeeper. It’s in South Devon a spacious house with a low, thatched roof. It could easily be made into two separate houses. There’s an orchard and pond, and a profusion of flowers in the summer. Mother loves gardening.”
Andrea felt her throat tighten as he talked. It sounded wonderful, but would she ever go there as Martin’s wife?
As if divining her thoughts, he drew her to him and gently kissed her. “We shall go there soon, never fear, my love. I have already told my mother about you and she longs to meet you. She is going to write and ask you down for a week-end or a week, or longer when you have some leave. We’ll arrange to so that I’ll drive you down and have some time together. Would you like that?”
She put her arms around his neck and held her cheek against his. “Oh, Martin, I’d love it. It sounds wonderful”
When she was with Martin the future seemed so assured. When she was away from him, especially after she had spent time with Godfrey, she was uncertain, miserable and depressed. Virginia seemed moody too, but if she was on duty when Andrea visited Godfrey, she was cheerful and talkative. Andrea was thankful for her presence during these visits, though Virginia usually offered to go and leave them alone together.
“No, don’t go, Virginia,” Andrea would beg of her. And Virginia would stay and keep the flow of conversation going in a way which made Andrea marvel. Virginia and Godfrey seemed to have got to know each other remarkably well. An understanding appeared to have developed between them. They would catch each other’s eye as though sharing some private joke. In contrast, Andrea and Godfrey became almost awkward with each other. He was pleased enough to see her and as she sat at the bed-side she allowed him to take her hand in his.
“I don’t want to give you a ring until I’m up and around, darling,” he said one day when they were alone. He smoothed his thumb across her fingers. “I want you to come with me to choose it, then I want to take you somewhere and tell you how much I love you, hear you say how much you love me before slipping it on your finger and taking you in my arms.”
Andrea felt her throat tighten and her heart almost die within her.
“Oh, Godfrey,” she whispered. “The main thing is that you get well.”
He smiled confidently. “With a wonderful future with you to look forward to and a girl like Virginia looking after me I can’t fail.”
“You and Virginia get on well together, don’t you?”
He looked almost surprised. “Who could help getting on well with a girl like Virginia? She’s a wonderful person. Next to you, I think she’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. I wonder George Howard hasn’t asked her to marry him before now.”
“I somehow don’t think he will.”
“Why not? What’s the matter with the fellow?”
It was Andrea’s turn to show surprise. “Why — I don’t think there’s anything the matter with him. They’re just friends, that’s all. At least, as far as I know. But then, Virginia always seems so reserved about such things.”
“She always strikes me as being more interested in other people than in herself,” Godfrey mused.
“She certainly interests herself in other people’s affairs,” Andrea replied rather tartly.
Smarting subconsciously from the times when Virginia had shown disapproval of her, Andrea spoke without thinking and immediately wished she hadn’t. She wanted to snatch back the words, but they hovered in the air, seeming to echo and re-echo.
Godfrey looked at her in puzzled surprise. “Andrea! Virginia is your friend. You sound as though you meant she interfered.”
Andrea colored. “I didn’t mean that at all. Why are you so ready to spring to her defence?”
“Darling — what’s the matter? Have you and Virginia quarrelled?”
“Good heaven’s, no, Godfrey. You’re making something out of nothing.”
“Am I? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that Virginia has been so awfully good to me. You can’t have any idea.”
“Can’t I? I should have. I’m a nurse too, you know.” Godfrey sighed inwardly. There were times when Andrea seemed to take offence at everything he said. He patted her hand and endeavored to change the subject.
“Darling, you always come to see me in mufti. When am I going to see you in uniform?”
“I didn’t think Matron would approve — and I didn’t want to disturb you too late at night by calling as I was coming off duty. Anyway, now you’re a little brighter, I will one evening.”
The night nurse came in and after a brief word with her, Andrea said goodnight.
Godfrey stared after her thoughtfully. How Andrea had changed since she came to the hospital. She had always been a girl of spirit, but she seemed to be developing an increasing tendency to be quarrelsome. Of course, she had just come through a very trying experience and besides that, nursing was exciting work. Yet, he mused, Virginia was so different. He loved Andrea — he always would, but he did wish he could fathom what was wrong. He felt sure there was something wrong somewhere.
“Virginia,” he said the next day as she was re-making his bed after the masseuse had been. “Does Andrea confide in you very much?”
“Quite a bit, Godfrey — naturally.” She tried to keep her voice casual and light. The normal reply to a question such as Godfrey had asked would have been: “Why do you ask?” But she did not ask it. She wanted to avoid too much talk about Andrea. It was difficult enough as it was — almost heart breaking at times — to listen to him singing Andrea’s praises and saying how much he loved her, even if not in so many words; planning for the future with her — anything so long as he was talking about her. If he should guess that Andrea did not really love him, she would rather he tackled Andrea herself. If he should have the merest suspicion, she did not want to be the one to confirm it in any way. To keep him happy, to get him well—these were the two things which concerned her most.
Feeling his eyes fixed upon her, she looked at him and smiled.
Impulsively, he took her hand. “Virginia, you’re such wonderful help to me. Can you spare a few minutes to talk?”
She patted his hand, then gently removed hers from his grasp. “Of course. What is it?”
He looked up at her. “You reassure me even before I speak, and seem to make my worries almost fade. I expect I get a bit morbid lying here. Too much time to think. A busy life certainly leaves little time for petty worries.” He paused for a moment, then went on: “It’s Andrea I’m worried about. Somehow, she doesn’t seem the same girl at all. You’re her friend. I wondered if there is anything bothering her.”
Virginia inclined her head. “Well, of course, she’s quite a bit worried about you, you know—naturally.”
He frowned. “I suppose so, but there’s something else, I feel sure. It’s difficult to explain. She has been changing for some time—in little things.”
Virginia eyed him thoughtfully. He seemed only very vaguely aware that something was wrong. “Try not to worry, my dear,” she said. “Remember it’s not all that long since her mother died. Then she takes up nursing, which is such a tremendous change for her, so different from anything she’s done before. Nursing makes great demands on a person’s mental and spiritual resources, you know, as well as physical sterngth. On top of that she has this accident——” She broke off, aware of his full gaze upon her, and of her face beginning to color. “I must get on,” she murmured.
“Virginia, you’re wonderful. Thank you for all you’ve just said.”
She grasped his arm for a moment, then hurriedly left the room. Godfrey lay there, contrasting, in spite of himself, the way she had spoken about Andrea, with the way Andrea had spoken about Virginia. For a long time he remained deep in thought about the two girls. There was a lot of truth in what Virginia had said, yet he was convinced that there was something else disturbing Andrea. She wasn’t happy—had not been for some time. She seemed restless, almost frustrated. What had she meant when she had almost accused Virginia of “interfering”? He had known Andrea for a good many years—since childhood—and never had he known her to be anything but generous in her thinking and in her attitude to other people. She had never been guilty of pettiness or meanness. He began to go over in his mind all that had happened since the death of her mother; her decision to take up nursing, her first encounter with Martin Graham.
When Virginia entered the room again, his eyes were closed. She tiptoed out again.
During the following days he talked very little of Andrea. He was always pleased to see her when she came to see him, and talked cheerfully, recounting for her gossip and news he had heard during the visits of their friends from the office. Once when Andrea was with him in her uniform, Harry and Chris Scott came to visit him.
“My, Andy, that uniform certainly does things for you, doesn’t it?” Chris commented.
“I’d rather see her in mufti, actually,” Godfrey said.
“I expect you would at that,” Harry said. “Well— how goes it, Godfrey? Are you making good progress?”
There was silence for a minute, then Godfrey said quietly: “Well, I expect it will be slow, but the doctors are doing all they can. I’ve got the top favorite looking after me and Andrea’s best friend. Come on, Andrea. Introduce Virginia.”
Virginia had been about to leave him with visitors but he called her back. He was in wonderful spirits.
“Whom do you mean by the ‘top favorite’?” Harry asked.
“Why—Dr. Martin Graham. The nurses all think he’s wonderful. Isn’t that so, Andrea?”
Virginia flashed a quick look at Andrea. It was not lost on Godfrey. Neither was the color which flooded Andrea’s face. He turned quickly to Harry and Chris.
“I don’t blame them either. He’s great. I’ve never known a doctor so determined to cure a man as he is to cure me.’’
When they had gone, Godfrey asked Andrea to read the newspaper to him. “It’s so tiring holding up the paper in this position,” he said.
Andrea was puzzled at the change in him. He was no longer the adoring lover content simply to sit holding her hand and plan their future together. He quite often nowadays asked her to read to him. When she got up to go he said:
“It’s your day off tomorrow, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Then have a good time. Get right away from the job, and the hospital. Don’t even come to see me. I won’t have you tying yourself to my bed-side. Go off somewhere for the day, go to a show or something.’’
Andrea gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. “Anyone would think you didn’t want to see me,” she protested. Then her heart leapt as Martin came into the room.
Godfrey immediately appealed to him. “Am I not right, doctor? Nurse Grey should get right away on her day off. She shouldn’t even come to see me.”
Martin raised his dark brows and gave a quick glance from one to the other. “Quite right, of course,” he said quietly, resting his gaze on Godfrey. “My advice to Nurse Grey would to go right off home tonight, sleep as late as she can tomorrow, then go off somewhere and enjoy herself.”
“There you are, Andrea. That practically amounts to ‘doctor’s orders.’ “
A look passed between Martin and Andrea—the briefest of glances, but Godfrey caught it and wondered.
“Well, after all that,” Andrea said. “I shall just have to take your advice. Goodnight, Godfrey. I’ll give you a rest from my company tomorrow.”
She turned to the door and Martin followed her, saying: “I must find Sister.”
Outside he said briefly, “I’ll pick you up outside the gates in half an hour. It will be almost dark by then. I’ll run you over to your flat.”
Andrea nodded and went to her room to get her coat and put a dress in her case. By the time she had walked down the drive, Martin was there with his car and she got in beside him without any prying eyes seeing her.
They spoke very little until they were in the flat. Andrea flung her coat on the bed then went through to the tiny kitchen to put on some coffee.
Martin followed her and, coming up behind her, put his hands on her shoulders and bent and kissed the top of her head. “Darling, what’s the matter?”
She put a light under the percolator, then turned into his arms, a worried look in her eyes.
“Andrea.” He kissed her and felt her lips warm and responsive for a moment. Then she stiffened.
“All right, darling,” he said resignedly. “Come and sit down and tell me what’s wrong.’’
He led her to the low divan and sat her down beside him, putting his arms around her and holding her close.
“Godfrey was perfectly right about you getting away from the atmosphere of the hospital. It’s too much for you, darling.’’ He kissed her forehead lightly. “You get things rather out of perspective.’’
“Martin, you don’t understand.”
He kissed the bridge of her nose, then looked gravely into her eyes. “What don’t I understand? Suppose you tell me, eh, love?’’
“I—think Godfrey knows about us—or is beginning to suspect.’’
“Suspect? Darling, what a word to use. We’re not criminals.’’
“Well, beginning to—to guess then.”
His eyebrows shot up then came down again in that way she knew and loved. “I don’t think so, darling,’’ he said.