An Excellent Wife (14 page)

'Good morning,' Miss Roper, said, her tone suggesting that she hoped it was going to be, anyway, unless he was in the sort of black mood he had been in yesterday.

He tried to sound cheerful. 'We're going to have to rush through anything important, Miss Roper. I have to leave again at ten. Is there anything I should know about in today's post?'

She was obviously curious about the need for haste, but didn't ask any questions—just picked up several letters she had put aside because they required instant decisions and were important. They dealt with them at once, then James sat down behind his desk and dictated several memos and letters before making some vital phone calls.

It was nearly ten when he ended the last call; he looked at his watch, sighing.

'I don't know when I'll be back.'

'You have a lunch appointment with the chairman of Hortley Enterprises—shall I try to cancel it?'

'Maybe you should—where were we meeting?'

'Your club.'

He nodded. 'Oh, yes, I remember now. He's a member, too. Give his secretary a ring and apologise. Say I'll be in touch very soon to suggest a new date.'

She made a note on her pad. 'Yes, sir. What about the afternoon appointments?' She read them out and he hesitated.

'I'm not sure—I may be able to keep them. I'll ring if I can't make it. And if you need me urgently ring Barny on the car phone and he'll get a message to me.' He had not been going to tell her about his mother, but suddenly decided to do so. 'My mother has had a slight heart attack and is in hospital.

I have to visit her and I don't know what I'll find, so I can't be sure how long 1. shall be there.'

Her face changed; she looked at him with distressed sympathy. 'Oh, I am sorry—was it a bad attack?'

'Fortunately not, I gather, but I haven't seen her yet. It only happened last night.'

'Well, give her my best wishes for a speedy recovery.'

He nodded, smiled at her. 'I will. Thank you, Miss Roper.'

He saw surprise in her eyes and flushed a little— wasn't he always polite to her? Well, maybe not, honesty forced him to admit. If you wanted to be successful in business these days you had to be ruthless, and that required £

focusing of your energy, a tension and hardness that spilled out into everyday relationships with staff around you. Perhaps he had let that ruthlessness become a hard shell which kept his staff at a distance? He had never meant to let that happen. He must do something about it.

As he left he almost collided with the little blonde girl, who gave a squeak of horror at the sight of him and began babbling excuses.

'I'm sorry I'm late. I overslept, missed my train...'

'Don't tell me, tell Miss Roper. She runs the office, not me,' James said, striding past, but giving her a smile which made her look even more terrified, her big eyes opening even wider, her mouth a round O.

Barny was waiting as ordered, a huge bouquet of spring flowers on the back seat of the car: long-stemmed golden daffodils, pink and white tulips, purple and white and yellow freesias. The colour and scent of them was overwhelming in the car interior. If he hadn't been so depressed they would have made him feel good to be alive. They didn't.

'I hope they're what you had in mind,' said Barny anxiously, watching his face.

Forcing a smile, he nodded. 'Magnificent, thank you, Barny. I'm sure she'll love them. I don't know how long I'll be in the hospital, so I suggest you go home when you've dropped me off. I'll get a taxi there when I leave.'

Traffic was heavy; it took them longer to reach the hospital than James had expected. It was half past ten before Barny dropped him off in front of the main entrance, came round and opened the door for him.

'Would you give our best wishes to Madam? From me and Enid. We hope she'll be better soon and we look forward to seeing her again before too long.'

James nodded. 'Yes, I'll tell her.' He had picked up what Barny had not actually said—that they were expecting that he would soon bring his mother home to live with him. When he'd first seen her again he would have sworn such a possibility would never arise. How rapidly things changed; how soon you got accustomed to ideas you would have sworn at first that you would never entertain.

Oh, he still didn't know if he could forgive her, put the past behind him enough to bring her home to live with him. Certainly not yet. He was not going to leap before he looked; he was too wary a bird to make a hasty move.

In any case, if she left Patience's home he would never see Patience again.

He flushed at that admission, faintly ashamed. Was he really putting his own needs before his mother's happiness?

Once upon a time he would have reminded himself that that was what his mother had done to him when he was a child. He would have thought: She deserves what she has got.

This heart attack had changed everything overnight He felt very differently this morning. He was going to have to make plans for his mother urgently now. Of course, she might wish to stay with Patience—after all, she had all that company there. The house was full of people of her own age, not to mention the three children and all their pets. Who would not rather stay there than come to live in his empty, silent house? But he must give her the choice, invite her to come home with him.

He arrived at his mother's bedside to find her fast asleep, her hands outside on the woven white bedcover, her body linked up to several pieces of equipment that gave her an extra-terrestrial look.

The ward sister let him stand by her bed for a short time, took his flowers and put them into several vases, then beckoned from the door, her finger to her lips. James obediently tiptoed out, wincing as his leather soles squeaked on the highly polished floor, in case he woke his mother.

'You can wait outside in the corridor, if you wish. She may wake up in a little while. She tends to take cat naps with waking gaps in between, which is good. She's comfortable, but what she needs is lots of rest. I'll call you if she wakes, or you can come back this afternoon.'

'Is she going to be okay?' he asked huskily. 'I mean...how serious was the attack?'

'Obviously it was serious enough for hospitalisation, which means that she'll have to make some changes in her lifestyle, which her specialist will explain to her.'

'Can I see him?'

'He isn't here this morning. You could see him after his round, at five o'clock. Can you come back?'

'Five? Yes, I'll come back then. If I'm needed, here are my phone numbers.'

He wrote them on a piece of paper and handed them to the sister, but instead of leaving the hospital sat down outside on a chair in the corridor for a while.

He was so cold, shivering slightly, that it dawned on him that he must be in shock after seeing his mother lying in that white bed, small and pale and childlike. She looked so old and ill. Was she going to die, despite what that ward sister had said?

He felt so odd that he knew he could not sit through his business meetings, so he rang his office on his mobile and told Miss Roper to cancel his afternoon appointments.

'Yes, sir, I'll do that right away,' she said, then asked, 'How was your mother?'

'She's sedated; I didn't get a chance to talk to her. The sister said she was going to be okay, but—' He broke off, swallowing.

'But what?' prompted Miss Roper, and he sighed.

'But I thought she looked terrible. Expect me when you see me, Miss Roper.'

He rang off, feeling really strange, dizzy and light-headed. He was afraid he might faint so he leaned right down, his head between his knees, waiting for the faint- ness to pass.

'James? What's wrong? She isn't...?' Patience's voice was rough with urgency and worry.

He sat up too quickly; his head went round and round as if he was in a washing machine.

She dazzled his eyes, hair blazing above a very pale face, greeny hazel eyes enormous and dark with dilated pupils. He blinked at her, his heart crashing against his ribs with a rushing sound, like the sea on rocks.

'James? What is it? Tell me,' she thickly insisted.

He realised what she was afraid he might say, quickly shook his head. 'No, no, she isn't dead,' he hurried to reassure her. 'She's asleep. I'm waiting in case she wakes up.'

She gave a long sigh of relief and sat down abruptly on the chair next to him.

'Thank God for that. When I saw you looking so stressed I thought... But why did you have your head down like that, then?'

He grimaced. 'I was feeling a little weird.' She searched his face and he hurriedly said, 'I'm okay now.'

She looked like spring in a lime-green tunic-style dress under a darker green jacket. He felt his spirits lifting at the sight of her. Huskily he said, 'The ward sister seems to think she's doing well. Well, "comfortable", she said, but then that's what they always say, isn't it? Meant to reassure you, but does it mean much?'

'They wouldn't lie, James—if they say she's comfortable I think they mean it. Otherwise they would be in trouble if she died, wouldn't they?'

'I suppose so.' His eyes roved down over her slender legs to her small feet in white sandals. Was she dressed up to meet that boyfriend of hers for lunch after visiting his mother?

'What are you staring at?'

He curtly said, 'I didn't know I was.'

'Well, you were. Don't you like my dress? Or was it my shoes you were making faces over?'

'Of course not. I wasn't making faces. It wasn't that... I mean, I was doing nothing of the kind.' He knew he sounded confused; he was gibbering like a fool. She had that effect on him. He had always prided himself on his self-control. Where was it now? What on earth must she be thinking? He had to pull himself together.

The ward sister came out and looked at them both. 'I thought you'd gone,' she told James. 'There's really no point in waiting. Why don't you come back this afternoon?'

Patience stood up. 'How is she?' she asked the other woman, -who smiled at her in a friendly way.

'Oh, hello again. You came with her when she was brought in, didn't you? I remember you. She's much better today; I don't suppose we'll have her with us much longer—just a few days.'

'That's wonderful. Well, I'll come back and see her later, then.'

They walked out of the hospital together. James was grimly silent. He couldn't think of anything to say to her. Outside the building Patience glanced up at him.

'Did your chauffeur bring you? Is he waiting?'

'No, I was going to take a taxi back.'

'I've got my car; I'll give you a lift.'

'I didn't know you had a car.'

'I couldn't manage without one, especially for the shopping. To save money I buy in bulk, which means a lot of shopping at one time.'

She turned to the right and walked through the hospital car park with James at her heels, stopping beside a large red, old, very battered four-wheel drive estate car. Unlocking the driver's door, she gestured. 'Hop in. Where are you going? Your office?'

He got into the passenger seat, looked at his watch and was startled to see that it was now nearly twelve. 'Have you got a lunch date?'

She slid in beside him, behind the wheel. 'Only with a shopping trolley on the way home.'

His heart skipped. So she wasn't meeting that boy! 'Let me buy you lunch,'

he said offhandedly.

Her voice was teasing. 'There's no need to offer mg lunch, James, just because I give you a lift!'

She was infuriating; why couldn't she accept the invitation without arguing?

He scowled at her. 'I'm inviting you because I want to.'

She looked down, her lashes golden in the sunlight, her eyes gleaming behind them like shimmering water between reeds.

'Then I'd love to—where shall we go?'

'I'll book somewhere.' He pulled his small mobile phone out of his inner pocket and dialled rapidly.

Barny answered within seconds. 'Hallo? This is the Ormond residence.'

'Hallo, Barny. Can Enid do lunch for two?'

'Of course. Is Madam coming home? Is she better?'

'She is better, but she still has to stay in hospital.' He paused, added tersely,

'Lunch isn't for her. We'll be there in about twenty minutes.'

'Anything in particular you wanted Enid to do? She stocked the fridges and larders this morning; she could do anything you liked.'

'Something special,' he said, and rang off.

Patience had started the engine. Without looking at him she said, 'Do I gather we're lunching at your house?'

'If that's okay.'

Her lashes flicked briefly to him, then away. 'So long as it's just lunch you're offering.'

She backed the car out of the space it occupied, turned to the left and began driving out of the car park while James dwelt on her last remark, his face darkening.

'What's that supposed to mean?'

Turning out onto the road, she slid into heavy traffic with a skill he noticed with some surprise. She was a good driver, far more careful than Fiona, although she was so much younger and must be far less experienced.

'Oh, come on, James,' she murmured without looking at him. 'Do you think I've forgotten what happened at your house yesterday, before your girlfriend turned up? Lunch, yes. Sex, no. Okay?'

'I got your message loud and clear yesterday,' he muttered, glowering ahead at the thick traffic, his face hardening, red stains across his cheekbones.

'You'll be perfectly safe, don't worry. I won't make a pass again.'

He wished to God he hadn't invited her to lunch—he must be out of his mind. She had made it plain that she did not like him, let alone fancy him.

Being alone with her, knowing she felt like that, would be painful, frustrating, humiliating.

Bitterness welled up inside him. Why had this happened to him? What had he ever done to deserve it? He had had such a bleak childhood, without any sign of affection from his father, which was why it had taken him all his adult life to fall in love for the first time. He hadn't wanted to risk getting hurt, which made what was happening to him now so ironic. When he did fall he had fallen hard for the wrong woman. She couldn't stand him, but he was crazy about her, obsessed, couldn't get her out of his head day and night.