just run her over and now…
“You mean go out together?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t read her face. Creased eyebrows suggested she was thinking about refusing. He was willing her to agree, praying she’d say “yes” and didn’t quite understand his panic at the possibility of refusal. “Fancy the idea?” Damn! Why the hell did it matter so much? He’d asked umpteen girls out. Some accepted, some refused, but this time it truly mattered.
“Alright,” she said, sounding surprised. “Best wait until I get a cast and crutches.”
“I dunno. The rate they’re going, we’ll be here all week. We could nip out and come back. No one would be any the wiser.”
“We would!”
A lot wiser no doubt.
“Alice!” Gloria said.
Andrew looked over his shoulder and almost baptized himself with soup. “Er…Dr. Doyle,” he managed, as he dabbed vegetable soup off his pullover.
“Good evening to you both,” Dr. Doyle said, with a tired smile. “Planning on absconding with a patient were you, Mr. Barron?”
“I’d bring her back. Promise. Never thought we’d be missed with all this going on.” He nodded toward the still bustling activity down the corridor.
The doctor sighed. “It’s terrible. I thought the vicarage bombing was awful, but this is a hundred times worse. They got a boarding school and a restaurant at the top end of the town and several houses.” She shuddered. “Still…better keep busy.”
“Did they call you in to help?” Gloria asked.
“No. I was here checking on poor Mrs. Roundhill. They’re moving her to a nursing home. They need the bed.” She gave a wry smile. “They could use this one too.”
“Get me X-rayed and plastered up and they can have it. Gladly. My ankle’s already swelling.” She shook her head. “Sorry, Alice, here I’m whining and you have people horribly injured.”
“I don’t call that whining. Besides,” she sent a speculative look his way. “You’ve got company.”
“I should hope so,” Andrew said. “I ran her over.”
“Well I never.” Dr. Doyle grinned. “That’ll be a story to tell your grandchildren.”
“Alice!” The flush earlier was nothing to the scarlet that flooded Gloria’s face now.
Andrew stayed quiet. Wasn’t a bad idea but…
“Dear Gloria, I’m not suggesting joint children, although you do have the most eligible man in the village sitting on your bed, and feeling guilty. Take the opportunity.”
“You’d better take yourself to the wounded!”
“Yes, dear, I will.” She looked at Andrew. “Now’s your chance. She can’t run away.”
After Dr. Doyle left they stared at each other. Gloria spoke first.
“Alice does go on.”
“Don’t worry. We agreed on dinner and the pictures. I’m not asking you to bear my children.” Not yet at any rate. Wasn’t a bad idea but that could wait. At least until after they had dinner.
“That’s nice to know,” she replied. “Since it might be a while before I can even get to the pictures. Come to that, it might be as long before I get this seen to.”
Not quite that long. Twenty minutes or so later a pair of orderlies turfed him off the end of the bed and wheeled her away.
Leaving him bereft.
The idea of Nurse Prewitt—alright Gloria—bearing his children was rather delightful. And he was stark raving crackers to even think about it in the middle of a war.
Chapter Four
“All I can say, Gloria, is I think you’re nuts. He’s handsome, intelligent, bedworthy and a gentleman to boot. I don’t understand your hesitation.”
Gloria was tempted to tell Alice that if you turned furry at intervals, you didn’t get involved with men. Better not. “It’s such a cliché: he runs me over, I break an ankle and then he takes me out to dinner to make up.” The whole scenario belonged in a Mills & Boon. Reading them was a smashing way to escape the stresses of war, actually living one was another thing entirely.
Alice didn’t give quarter. “Bully for clichés. You can’t turn him down after you said ‘yes.’”
“I was suffering from shock.”
“You will be, if you keep on this way.”
“Look, Alice. I’m injured. Sick people don’t go out to dinner.” That sounded so wet.
“You’re not sick. They didn’t even keep you overnight.”
“Only because they needed the bed.”
Gloria had never seen Alice this stubborn. Still, two could play that game. “Just because you’re getting hitched, you’re out to play matchmaker.”
“Of course. Love is wonderful, Gloria. Even a little bit of it and no, I’m not saying you should marry him, fall into bed or take lifelong vows on the strength of dinner. For heaven’s sake go, have fun and enjoy yourself. Darn it, we could all be dead any day.”
No denying that. Although Gloria put her chances of survival a bit higher than your average human.
“He’s got it all set up and doing things in style. He’s booked a table at The White Horse. You can’t let him down.”
“It’s not just that, Alice…”
“It’s not anything, Gloria. You’re going if I have to manhandle, or rather womanhandle, you into that car tomorrow night. If you say any more about standing Andrew Barron up, I’ll get Gran to talk to you. She’ll make you see reason.”
No idle threat that. While Mrs. Burrows had always treated Gloria with friendliness and kindness, you didn’t have to be Other to see the strength of the woman. “I’m going, but I’m not exactly comfortable about it.” Complete truth that. She was on tenterhooks inside. She’d fancied Andrew since the day he got off the train and walked into the village. She’d just had the good sense to keep at a distance. Until now.
“Gloria, you’ll have a wonderful time. I’ll come in and help you wash your hair and bring my electric hair dryer. What are you going to wear?”
A dress! “Something I can haul myself in and out of a car in and keep my dignity, and, Alice, I don’t need help deciding. I can get myself upstairs using my arms.” Moving far more easily than any human could. Much as she loved Alice, she could just imagine the look on her face if she ever suspected her friend and coworker turned furry and ran over the heath when all respectable villagers were tucked up safe in bed.
Gloria got to her feet using her crutches, hugged Alice good-bye and closed the door behind her.
Driving home, Alice tried to ignore the needles of guilt.
What if Gloria really didn’t want to go out with Andrew Barron and had only been bulldozed into agreeing? No! Gloria might have reservations; after all she, Alice, had plenty about Peter once upon a time, but Gloria was not one to be pushed where she had no intention of going. Was she?
Alice was so wound up agonizing over the rights and wrongs of it all, she almost hit the dark figure running across the road. A swerve and a screech of brakes had Alice avoiding a collision. Thank heaven! They’d had quite enough road accidents for one week thank you very much. The car came to a halt at the side of the road, narrowly avoiding the ditch.
Heart pounding, Alice yanked on the brake and looked around. The waxing moon was hidden behind the clouds