Live the Dream. Josephine CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
anxious, he quickened his steps.
Sensing his nearness, the woman peered out of the window, delighted to see him there. Before he had even opened the door, she was there to greet him.
‘Oh, Luke, I’m so glad you’re back!’ Her voice was entreating; her wide dark eyes glittering with excitement. ‘It’s been awful. I didn’t know which way to turn.’
At once he was on his guard. ‘What do you mean?’ Looking about he asked pointedly, ‘Where’s Sylvia?’
‘In the bedroom.’ Casting her gaze to the upper reaches of the house she told him in a whisper, ‘She’s sound asleep.’
‘Is she all right?’
‘She is now.’
He began to understand. ‘Is Edna with her?’ Edna, originally employed as housekeeper, was a good and loyal friend who had seen him and his wife through thick and thin.
‘No.’ Bristling at his question, she snapped, ‘She is not!’
‘So, where is she? She promised to stay until I got home. The meeting went on longer than was planned.’
With eyebrows raised and a marbling of anger in her voice, she asked sweetly, ‘What kind of meeting … or am I not allowed to ask?’
‘A meeting of business minds,’ Luke answered sharply. ‘A long-awaited meeting, too important to miss.’
‘Really?’ Again the eyebrows were raised, the smile devious. ‘I thought you might have a secret rendezvous with some attractive female,’ she suggested softly. ‘After all … the way things are, who would blame you?’
‘If you thought that, then you were wrong. There is no other woman. There never has been, nor is there likely to be.’ Bitterly he cast all lingering thoughts of Amy from his mind.
Taking a long, deep breath he squared his shoulders. ‘Now … will you tell me what’s been going on?’ he asked quietly. ‘You say Sylvia is asleep?’
‘That’s right. And, as you well know, it would be best if she was not disturbed.’
He nodded. ‘So, if Edna is not with my wife, where is she?’
Georgina gave a cunning half-smile. ‘I sent her home of course.’ Her expression changed to one of disgust. ‘To tell you the truth, I’d sack her if I had my way.’
Anger darkened Luke’s face. ‘Then it’s just as well you don’t have your way!’ he snapped. ‘That dear soul is a godsend to us. She’s been with us through very difficult times. Anyone else would have been long gone, but not Edna. She’s a good woman … and, thank God, she’s made of sterner stuff than most. What’s more, she knows as much about what’s happening as any one of us.’ His voice trembled with anger. ‘You had no right to send her home.’
‘Sylvia is my sister. I had every right! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Sylvia needs a proper nurse, not an old has-been like Edna!’
‘You’ve got a short memory, Georgina.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Cast your mind back to when Sylvia came home from hospital.’ With his eyes burning into hers, he explained the situation for the umpteenth time. ‘She had bruises and marks where she’d taken that terrible beating, but to look into her eyes, you’d think she was recovering well. Oh, yes, the doctor warned us that it was a possibility, but we hoped beyond hope for her sake that he was wrong. But he wasn’t, was he? What was it – a month, maybe two – before the fits started; the unpredictable violence, the depression and amnesia.’
‘I know all that!’
‘Then you also know how I got Sylvia the best nurses money could buy. First one then another. They had all the certificates and experience. They came with the finest references, but Sylvia sent them packing.’ He paused, allowing the words to sink in. ‘She would have nothing to do with any of them, and worse, nothing to do with the medication they administered. And then, when I’m about to despair, we discover that the finest nurse of all is our own housekeeper, Edna – fully trained, qualified, and with years of experience. What was even better was that she already had Sylvia’s complete and absolute trust … mine too. I can go to work during the week and know that Sylvia is in safe, loving hands, and that she isn’t hiding her tablets or pouring her medicine away.’
Georgina knew how every word Luke uttered was right, but she still had her say. ‘Except for Tuesdays.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, except for Tuesdays, but then Edna has to have at least one day off and she visits her aged mother. They go to the old lady’s whist club. But then you kindly offered to stay with her on that one day, and the arrangement seems to have worked out really well. Like you say, Sylvia always seems content in your company.’
Eaten with jealousy, Georgina persisted. ‘If you ask me, Edna is far too familiar. It never pays to let the servants know too much.’
‘Why don’t you let me worry about that?’ Finishing the conversation, he turned away with the parting words, ‘Besides, you know we never think of Edna as a “servant”.’
‘Then you should … because that’s exactly what she is. A housekeeper pretending to be a nurse again!’
‘To be honest, the fact that you sent her away is neither here nor there, because if I know Edna, the minute she realises I’m home, she’ll be back again … if only to make certain Sylvia is all right.’ He smiled knowingly. ‘In fact, I suspect our Edna has nothing but dislike for you.’
‘Hmm!’ Georgina narrowed her eyes and spat, ‘The feeling is mutual, because I can’t stand the sight of the damned woman!’
Treating her remark with the contempt it deserved, Luke made no reply. Instead, he went out of the room and on up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs he turned left towards his wife’s room. He knew from experience that it was best to leave her sleeping, but he had a deep-down need to check on her. He had to be certain she was all right.
Lingering outside her door, he listened. There was no sound. There never was. Gingerly he turned the handle, opened the door and, ever so softly, let himself inside.
Standing by her bed, he studied her sleeping face. Sylvia never liked complete darkness, and in the kindly haze of light from the standard lamp, her quiet, pale features took on a ghostly aspect. With her soft skin and long, tousled chestnut hair, she seemed almost like a child lying there. He stayed a moment longer, thinking how beautiful she was, and how fortunate he had been.
Raising the blanket to cover her arms, he tenderly stroked the strands of rich-coloured hair from about her face. When she was sleeping like this, everything seemed so perfect. Yet he knew it was not.
Beside the bed, her supper plate lay untouched: two small, plain biscuits, and a dainty wedge of cheese with the knife lying beside it; all exactly as it was when brought up by Edna. Untouched, unwanted.
The empty tumbler was on its side, half drunk, half spilled. As he carefully uprighted it, the dregs ran down his wrist. He wiped it away, but the stale milk remained, sticky and uncomfortable. It occurred to him it might well contain something medicinal, but it was spilled now, and anyway, she was sound asleep.
‘Good night, my love.’ Leaning over, he whispered assurances with the softest of kisses before, collecting the supper plate, he left the room as softly as he had arrived.
Once outside on the landing, he made his way to the bathroom; a large converted bedroom with high ceilings and stripped wooden floor, it always struck him as strangely cold and bleak.
Setting the supper plate on the cupboard, he went to the basin where he splashed a handful of cold water over his wrist, then another over his face. After hours of talking business he was wearied. The shock of cold water felt refreshingly good.