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Authors: Marjorie Moore

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BOOK: To Please the Doctor
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Shall we cut up through the back, it will be more sheltered there?

Duncan McRey suggested as, turning along the front they were met by the full force of the gale blowing across the wide stretch of ocean.


Oh, no, I love this,

Jill protested.

That is if
you
don

t mind,

she amended hastily.


No. I like it.

He belted his mackintosh more firmly at the waist, then, following Jill

s lead, crossed over the road until they walked the wide, paved promenade.

Sure you
are warm enough?

His question was barely audible as his words were carried away by a fresh gust of wind, and certainly not sufficiently clear for Jill to perceive whether they were prompted by consideration for her welfare or whether they might not have carried some note of criticism. Either way she found herself suddenly unduly conscious of her sheer silk stockings and the smart tailored coat which moulded the slim lines of her figure; admittedly they had been well chosen for dinner in an hotel, but scarcely the ideal garments for an evening

s tramp on a windswept promenade.


I

m very warm, thanks.

Jill lifted her head that her words might reach her companion, and beneath the glow of a lamp the shadowed violet of her eyes was emphasized against the pink glow of her cheeks. She pushed back the tangled curls of her hair from her forehead before continuing.

I

m just loving this—the wind is invigorating, heady like wine.


You aren

t suitably dressed, you

ll get cold. Haven

t you a scarf or something?

Jill shook her head.

I forgot...”
She broke off and her laugh was carried away by the wind, but a provocative dimple still showed in her cheeks.

I mean I didn

t know I

d be walking back. I only made up my mind at the last moment, the idea of fresh air and exercise was irr
e
sist
i
ble.

Placing an arm firmly beneath Jill

s elbow, he led her towards one of the small glass enclosed shelters along the sea front.

Come in here for a moment and fix this over your head.

Before Jill could stop him he had pulled a spotted silk handkerchief from his neck.

At least this will keep your head protected,

he announced, handing it to her.


But what about you?

Jill demurred, making no move to accept the proffered scarf.


I don

t need it.

As Jill still made no move to accept, he placed it in her hand, and she knew further protest would be useless.

Thanks, that will certainly be much more comfortable.

The sudden shelter from the wind made speech easier, and taking ad
v
antage of the temporary lull, Jill added:

I feel that I am being a nuisance—just because Harriet suggested you take me back. You don

t have to, you know. I don

t mind one bit walking alone; in fact, I

m enjoying it so much that I

d like to venture a little further along the front before returning, so please don

t bother with me. You get straight back and I

ll find my own way home.


I

ll come along just the same. You see I, too, feel like exercise.

He leaned forward and retied the knotted scarf at Jill

s chin.

The bow you made is most becoming, but I

m afraid it wouldn

t hold a moment in this gale.

Jill was uncomfortably conscious of his hands as they brushed against her chin. His face, as he stooped, was
almost level with hers, and the kindly expression of concern in his blue eyes caught her entirely unaware.
It
was so unexpected, as indeed had been the gentle touch of his fingers at her throat, that she was filled with a momentary sense or embarrassment.

Thanks, I

m sure that

s firmer.

She turned her head away as she spoke and busied herself quite unnecessarily with the fastening of her bag.


Let me put that in my pocket, it will be easier walking with your hands free.

Without awaiting a reply he took the bag from Jill

s hand and slipped it in the capacious pocket of his mackintosh.

Ready?

Again he placed his hand beneath her arm as they emerged from the shelter.

Would you like to try and get as far as the jetty? It won

t take long, then we can strike back, inland, over the fields.


I

d love to.

Jill found herself shouting again to make her voice heard above the wind. Her escort had now dropped his hand from her arm and, freed of her hand bag, she thrust both hands in her pockets and stepped forward readily at his side. Above the wind she could hear the steady beat of the waves as they broke over the shingle; that and the ring of their own footsteps on the hard stone were the only sounds in the covering darkness. Neither of them spoke; even had Jill felt inclined she was too busy battling with the elements and trying to match her steps to her companion

s long strides, to make further efforts.

Jill felt the wind was like wine. Like wine it seemed to have gone to her head; she was aware of a feeling of happi
ness
akin to exultation as she bent her body to its force, feeling it whip round her, almost lifting her from her feet. Her thoughts were in turmoil and held a quality o
f
unreality even as the encompassing night and the silent man at her side. He was surely as enigmatic as the dark vaulted heavens and the spangle of stars. Harriet had tried to give her some more intimate picture of this man, yet she didn

t feel she knew him better; perhaps loneliness and the determined struggle to success had given him that shell of hardness
...
surely it could be no more than a veneer since although she had suffered his scathing remarks and that satirical smile, she had also glimpsed the kindliness which he seemed almost at pains to conceal. Suddenly it easy to understand Harriet

s words; she usually was right, her judgment sound and clear-headed, a woman who could pierce his armour would probably find all her heart could desire.

As they rounded the jetty the high wall broke the force or the wind. The sudden lull was strange after their recent buffeting, and even the sea, a few feet below them, beat almost gently against the rocky boulders. Throwing back her head, Jill took a deep breath. She could taste the salt on her lips and her body glowed with the recent exercise.


That was lovely—how sheltered it is here.

She walked to the edge and peered over the foam-flecked rocks.


The wind is from the south; this corner is sheltered.

He paused, then added,

The waves are breaking the other side—hear them?

As he spoke a wave broke high against the wall with thundering impact, sending a fine spray of salt water clear over the jetty. Duncan McRey took Jill

s arm and pulled her back.

Better not stand there, you

ll get soaked.

He wiped a green-painted seat with his handkerchief.

Like to sit for a moment before starting back?

Jill sank gratefully down on to the hard seat; she felt reluctant as yet to turn homeward. It was strange to hear the crashing waves at her back and yet to remain scarcely touched by the wind. The spray, rising high above the wall, did not reach them, and the wind had become no more than a hissing whisper.

“It’s
good here. I often come in the evenings.

Jill turned to her companion with surprise.

Do you?
I’ve
scarcely explored at all except for one tramp over
the
cliffs.

Jill gave a short laugh.

This is such an ugly place.
Maybe it

s better to walk at night, one can

t see it.


The sea front should only be walked after dark

He smiled.

During the day it

s easier to go further afield, the Downs beyond Stene are beautiful. There are dozens of wonderful tramps towards the North, too. You must try them.

Jill remained silent, unwilling to express the thoughts his words had provoked. Had he forgotten that he had himself expressed the opinion that her stay at Sunsand would prove brief and, since then, nothing had happened to suggest that he had revised his opinion. On the contrary, he had shown quite
cl
early that as a Sister she fell far short of his standards.


You are very silent. Are you wondering whether you

ll be here long enough to take advantage of my suggestions?

The fact that her companion had so readily guessed her train of thought filled Jill with embarrassment; she was certainly glad of the covering darkness as she sought her reply, but yet would have given much had it only been light enough to read the expression behind the inscrutable smile which had accompanied his words.

I don

t know
...”
Jill broke off, irritated with her own faltering words. Then, with a sudden burst of confidence, she added,

I believe that you could answer that question far better than I.


I?
...
How can I answer it? If you mean, shall I go to Matron and ask for your transfer, then the answer is definitely no. When you leave St. Joseph

s it will be entirely on your own initiative not mine.


My initiative.

Jill echoed, and she made no effort to conceal the bitterness which lay behind her words.

I suppose you feel I should be grateful that you leave the decision to me? In theory, perhaps you
will...” She
broke off, trying desperately to control the break in her voice.

In fact, the whole thing depends upon you and you know it.


I
think
you are mistaken.

His tone was gentle and when he spoke softly the burr in his speech was more pronounced.

You don

t really have to work, do you?

he added irrelevantly.


No. If you mean am I dependent on my earnings, then I

m not,

Jill responded with some surprise.


Then why do you take a job? Nursing is a serious profession and meant for serious people.

There was no further hesitation in Jill

s voice as she was stung to a retort.

I don

t understand you! Do you imagine that I am just playing at a job because the uniform is becoming
...
That I believed nursing consisted of holding the patient

s hand and whispering words of sweet consolation to the sick? I took up nursing because I wanted to. I

m interested and I love it! Is there any reason why, just because I happen to have private means, that I should be denied the work I want to do?

Her words were defiant, and even in the pale light of the moon which was rising from behind the black mass of hills behind, her eyes shone with suppressed anger.


I

m sorry—I misjudged you.

Duncan McRey

s tone was sincere, and for a fleeting second his hand rested on hers. Quickly he withdrew it as he continued:

My original meeting with you at Harriet

s that night gave me a different impression.

He smiled and Jill felt sure that it must be a trick of the moonlight which softened his features conveying an expression of sincere concern.

I must admit that little has happened since to alter that first impression.

This time there was no mistaking the quizzical smile playing at the corners of his lips.

BOOK: To Please the Doctor
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