could speak under the cover of the conversation without any of the others hearing what he had to say.
‘What a beautiful girl your sister is,’ he began. ‘It’s more than a shame she should be tied to that couch or her bed! I honestly don’t think she need be housebound much longer, though. I’ve had a chat with her, and she’s to come to St Lucy’s in the morning for an examination. We’ll know then if my diagnosis is confirmed or not. If it is, then I’m certain we will be able to help her. She’s hurt inside,’ he added abruptly. ‘We must find her some means of wanting to live again, to belong.’
‘That’s what the other doctors have said, I told you,’ Joy answered quietly. ‘It’s my own firm conviction as well. But I’ve tried everything I can think of.’
‘Then we must think of something else, mustn’t we?’ Quentin commented agreeably, placing his cup on the table and preparing to leave. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow evening, maybe,’ he said before he left. ‘I do casualty duty one morning and two evenings a week at St Lucy’s. They’re very short-staffed, you know.’
Joy made no comment, and the twins, who had taken to Doctor Quentin without any reservations, accompanied him to the door. Joy looked across at where Lana was lying, an open book on her knees, but her sister was not looking at the opened page. She was staring into space and a strange little smile played round the corners of her lovely mouth, just as though, Joy thought bemusedly, she had secret dreams of her own which she could not or would not share with any of them.
Pete left early, as he had only been granted the afternoon free from business and still had the drive back. Aileen looked questioningly at Joy as he rose to go, but Joy made no move, and it was left to Aileen to see him off. She came back to the others, a little sad, for after all these years it was like seeing one of her own family leave the nest and she felt much as she had done when Joy had gone off to do her training.
‘Pete seems delighted with the place and the town,’ she reported. ‘I don’t think it will be long before he’s found a niche for himself around these parts. Thank goodness there’s plenty of room in Fernbank. There’s even a little shed at the bottom of the garden where he can do all the pottering he wants to do with his car, his bits of woodwork and his photography and the like without getting in anyone else’s way.’
‘I’m going up to bed, if you don’t mind, Mother,’ Joy bent and kissed Aileen goodnight. ‘I think everyone knows where he or she is to sleep and all the rest of it. I want an early start to my day tomorrow. I don’t intend to be late!’
‘And we’ll have an early start doing something about all this excess of furniture and what-have-you,’ Aileen spoke to Mrs. Wrenshaw as she too rose to follow her daughter. ‘Whatever else we do, though’—she glanced round the dining-room at the dark red paper, the brown glossy paint—‘we must do something to lighten and brighten this place up a little. I can’t bear to live in drab surroundings.’
‘There’s a man—a retired man—lives just down Russet Drive,’ Mrs. Wrenshaw informed them. ‘He’s very good at paper-hanging and painting and all that sort of thing. Been in the decorating business all his life, and he only said last week he was bored to tears since he had retired ... he might welcome a job like this where he could take his time. You wouldn’t want it all done in a great hurry, would you?’ she ended anxiously.
‘My goodness, no!’ Aileen laughed. ‘That would be both too great an upheaval and too expensive. One room at a time, starting’—she wrinkled her brow—‘in here, I think. But we can go into all that tomorrow. Lana dear, Mrs. Wrenshaw has made up your bed in what apparently used to be the study. You can have your couch wheeled from there into the conservatory and from there out into the garden on fine, warm days.
‘What a beautiful girl your sister is,’ he began. ‘It’s more than a shame she should be tied to that couch or her bed! I honestly don’t think she need be housebound much longer, though. I’ve had a chat with her, and she’s to come to St Lucy’s in the morning for an examination. We’ll know then if my diagnosis is confirmed or not. If it is, then I’m certain we will be able to help her. She’s hurt inside,’ he added abruptly. ‘We must find her some means of wanting to live again, to belong.’
‘That’s what the other doctors have said, I told you,’ Joy answered quietly. ‘It’s my own firm conviction as well. But I’ve tried everything I can think of.’
‘Then we must think of something else, mustn’t we?’ Quentin commented agreeably, placing his cup on the table and preparing to leave. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow evening, maybe,’ he said before he left. ‘I do casualty duty one morning and two evenings a week at St Lucy’s. They’re very short-staffed, you know.’
Joy made no comment, and the twins, who had taken to Doctor Quentin without any reservations, accompanied him to the door. Joy looked across at where Lana was lying, an open book on her knees, but her sister was not looking at the opened page. She was staring into space and a strange little smile played round the corners of her lovely mouth, just as though, Joy thought bemusedly, she had secret dreams of her own which she could not or would not share with any of them.
Pete left early, as he had only been granted the afternoon free from business and still had the drive back. Aileen looked questioningly at Joy as he rose to go, but Joy made no move, and it was left to Aileen to see him off. She came back to the others, a little sad, for after all these years it was like seeing one of her own family leave the nest and she felt much as she had done when Joy had gone off to do her training.
‘Pete seems delighted with the place and the town,’ she reported. ‘I don’t think it will be long before he’s found a niche for himself around these parts. Thank goodness there’s plenty of room in Fernbank. There’s even a little shed at the bottom of the garden where he can do all the pottering he wants to do with his car, his bits of woodwork and his photography and the like without getting in anyone else’s way.’
‘I’m going up to bed, if you don’t mind, Mother,’ Joy bent and kissed Aileen goodnight. ‘I think everyone knows where he or she is to sleep and all the rest of it. I want an early start to my day tomorrow. I don’t intend to be late!’
‘And we’ll have an early start doing something about all this excess of furniture and what-have-you,’ Aileen spoke to Mrs. Wrenshaw as she too rose to follow her daughter. ‘Whatever else we do, though’—she glanced round the dining-room at the dark red paper, the brown glossy paint—‘we must do something to lighten and brighten this place up a little. I can’t bear to live in drab surroundings.’
‘There’s a man—a retired man—lives just down Russet Drive,’ Mrs. Wrenshaw informed them. ‘He’s very good at paper-hanging and painting and all that sort of thing. Been in the decorating business all his life, and he only said last week he was bored to tears since he had retired ... he might welcome a job like this where he could take his time. You wouldn’t want it all done in a great hurry, would you?’ she ended anxiously.
‘My goodness, no!’ Aileen laughed. ‘That would be both too great an upheaval and too expensive. One room at a time, starting’—she wrinkled her brow—‘in here, I think. But we can go into all that tomorrow. Lana dear, Mrs. Wrenshaw has made up your bed in what apparently used to be the study. You can have your couch wheeled from there into the conservatory and from there out into the garden on fine, warm days.
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