One with the wind Read online

Hilary stared at the driver, her dulled senses not quite " taking in his words. He must have realized it, because the I next moment he got out of the car, snatching up a rug ; from the back as he did so. The bicyde was taken from I her still dinging hands, the rug wrapped around her i gently and strong arms lifted her into the car. 1 "Don't move," he ordered curtly. I He needn't have worried, Hilary told herself, she couldn't I have moved. She could hear him doing things with the ! bike and she tried to tell him to leave it, but somehow ; she didn't have the strength. She was shivering, but I slowly it was giving way to a delicious feeling compounded I 21 of warmth and a tiredness too absolute to permit either movement or conscious thought. She was dimly aware of his getting back into the car and could make out that he still seemed very cross, but now he was very wet as well and she could smell the slightly peaty odour of wet wool and pipe tobacco. He was looking down at her. "Where do you live?" She roused a little. "Eighteen Larkspur Road. I hope it won't take you too far out. of your way," she said politely, thinking lazily that she knew it wouldn't! "It won't be; it's right on my way." His tone was still curt. The car moved off swiftly through the pouring rain and still the lightning flashed and the thunder echoed across the stormy sky, but it no longer held any threat or called for any effort and Hilary must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew the car was still and someone was speaking urgently in her ear. "Where's your key and which is your flat?" "It's the flat at the top of the stairs and the key is under the rubber plant outside the door," Hilary answered dreamily, and then wakened sufficiently to struggle to sit up. "Keep still until I come back," he ordered, disappearing into the rain again. He came back with a key on a string dangling from one finger. "This was the only one I could find." Before she could protest she was being scooped up like a baby and being carried at a shambling run through the downpour. He paused once halfway up the stairs to rest her against the banister, and she heard him murmur rather breathlessly: "You're bigger than you look those silly shorts are deceptive." ' Then they were on their way again, and Hilary was very conscious of the bigness and the strength of him as he held her clutched against him. He paused to fumble with the door handle and then pushed it open with his foot before staggering rather unsteadily into the sitting-room. He deposited Hilary not too ungently in the nearest chair. "There you are. Miss Playdell . . . and let that be a lesson to you." 22 Before Hilary could collect herself there was the sound of retreating footsteps, the slam of a door, and Honor's amused voice enquiring from the inner doorway: "What on earth has happened, and who in blazes was your angry visitor?" Hilary unbundled herself cautiously. "That was the surgeon I'm scrubbing for in the morning, although he doesn't know it!" She looked down at her wrappings. "He forgot his rug," she said unsteadily. Honor came over to her. "Stop rambling, Hilary. You still haven't told me what happened. Heavens, you are 'a mess, aren't you?" Hilary felt her sore places gingerly. "It could be worse. My bike tried to hit his car, or the other way round ... he went on his way and I tried to carry on home, then the rain came, and he came, and here I am. . . ." Honor still seemed dissatisfied. "That still doesn't explain why I heard my name being mentioned." Hilary looked at her and laughed. "Your name is the one on the nameplate, and I don't suppose he saw the little card underneath with H. Hunter on it. Is Peter in the kitchen with you?" Honor shook her head. "He's got to stand in for David. I was about to scramble an egg. Interested?" "I'll get myself something after. I'm going to have a long hot soak and find something warm and dry to put on. See you presently." Hilary disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. The next morning when her alarm went off Hilary stretched cautiously, but a good night's sleep had made her as good as new, she decided . . . except for her face. She stared at the scratches and the darkening bruise over one temple that she hadn't noticed last night. This was one morning when she would wear make-up, a lot of make-up, on duty. Once she had applied pancake lavishly the marks were less apparent, and once she had reached Theatre there was no time to think about them. Theatre A. was already in action, getting ready for their hypothermia, and there was no sign of Sister Withall. Hilary knew enough not to distrub her senior with a per23 sonal appearance and sent the theatre orderly to say she was on duty. Karl came back with a small tray. "Sister Withall says to try to manage with these. They are expecting some difficulty and there may be delay." Hilary knew what that meant and took the instruments from him. The new clamps weren't there. Hilary looked at the clock and gave her trolleys a final survey. Everything was ready and it would be another ten .minutes before she would have to scrub. She could see her little team hovering in the background waiting for the signal for the race to begin ... the race to give yet another individual an even chance on the course that was life and health and should have been his birthright but for some unexpected flaw in the mechanism of her heart. . . . She slipped out of the theatre for a final breath of fresh air, that wasn't steam-laden. As she stood by the open window in the corridor she could feel the perspiration cooling on her face . . . her make-up would be all over the place. She heard footsteps coming along the corridor, heavy footsteps. It must be John Kirkall already. As she turned to go back into theatre she pulled up her mask and reached the door at the same time as he did. As he paused to let her go first and she did the same, she heard a startled exdamation: "So it was you all the time!" She looked up at him in surprise. "Of course. I recognized you, but how did you guess?" He reached out a finger and touched the long scratch on her forehead. Then his face darkened. "You've no business being on duty, and you're certainly not fit to take my case!" 24

  CHAPTER TWO