Cruel Legacy. PENNY JORDAN
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out of touch, so unused to being in the company of an attractive, communicative man that she didn’t know how to respond any more, or how to read the subtle messages her senses were picking up from him.
She was being ridiculous, he just wanted someone to talk to, she told herself quickly as he started the car and then turned to smile at her.
‘I know a pub where the bar meals are reasonably good and with a bit of luck midweek it should be fairly empty.’
As he watched her, Kenneth wondered how long it would be before she guessed how deliberately contrived this meeting had actually been. He had missed her like hell since he’d returned home, and it had only taken a chance discovery that there was an alternative clinic he could attend, plus a bit of time spent working out her shift pattern, to have him altering his appointment and then hanging about in Outpatients trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible until she came off duty.
He had earned himself one or two sharp looks from a couple of nurses and one of the porters, but it had paid off.
Kenneth had no illusions about his situation. His feelings for Sally were far stronger than hers for him, if indeed she had any, but she was not totally unaware of him; that pretty little flush and sideways look had told him that.
For a man who claimed to need help with them he was remarkably adept at managing his crutches, Sally reflected as Kenneth parked his car and ushered her into the pub.
He had been right about its being quiet, and its setting out in the country, away from the town, meant that she was unlikely to bump into anyone who knew her.
She frowned. What had put that thought into her head? Why should it matter if anyone saw her? She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just having lunch with an ex-patient, that was all.
Kenneth found them a table tucked away in a small natural alcove and then gestured to the menu blackboard behind the bar, asking her what she would like to eat.
When Sally saw the prices she hesitated, force of habit making her run down the list for the cheapest item.
‘What’s wrong … don’t tell me you’re dieting?’ Kenneth teased her.
She laughed. ‘No, it’s just …’
‘Just what? Nothing there that you fancy?’
‘No, it’s not that.’ She could feel herself starting to flush slightly. ‘It’s all so expensive,’ she whispered to him, watching as he frowned as he too studied the board, his voice gentle as he told her,
‘Order whatever you want, Sally, and let me enjoy spoiling you a little bit … you deserve it.’
Sally had to look away from him. She could feel her face burning again, but this time not because she was embarrassed.
How long had it been since Joel had said anything to her like that … had made her feel valued and precious … had made her feel that it was a privilege and a pleasure to be with her?
In the end she ordered a lasagne and Kenneth did the same.
‘Now,’ he commanded when they had both been served, ‘tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Wrong?’ Sally stared at him, too surprised by his astuteness to question the intimacy of his demand. ‘It’s nothing …’ she started to deny, and then when she saw his face she shook her head and admitted, ‘It’s Joel. He should hear today about his job. The factory he works for could be closed down and all the men made redundant. He’s taking it very badly …’ She bit her bottom lip. ‘Worse than he needs to, really. It won’t be easy but we could manage. I could go back to work full-time … Sister even said to me today that she thought I should take more training to help my career.’ Sally laughed.
‘I’m sure she’s right,’ Kenneth interrupted her. ‘You’re a very bright girl, Sally,’ he told her before she could say anything. ‘And it’s a pity that …’
He stopped speaking abruptly.
‘That what?’ Sally challenged him.
‘Nothing,’ he told her quietly, and then admitted, ‘I was going to say that it’s a pity that your family didn’t see to it that you had the chance to fulfil the potential you’ve so obviously got, but I didn’t want you to think I was being critical of … of anyone.’
He meant of Joel, Sally recognised swiftly.
‘Oh, you mustn’t feel sorry for me,’ she told him lightly. ‘I was quite happy to give up work and stay home with the children.’
‘Yes, but you’re not happy now.’
Sally almost choked on the mouthful of food she had taken. She put down her knife and fork and looked at him.
‘What makes you say that?’ she asked him unsteadily.
‘I can see it in your eyes,’ he told her.
She looked across uncertainly at him, a tiny inner voice of caution warning her that what she was contemplating doing was dangerous, but the temptation to unburden herself to someone, to him, was too strong to resist.
‘Tell me,’ Kenneth insisted softly.
‘I can’t,’ Sally protested. ‘It’s not … you’re not …’
‘Yes, you can. I’m not your patient any more, Sally, and I want to hear … to help.’
She shook her head as though trying to clear her thoughts.
‘It’s things at home,’ she told him helplessly. ‘Joel doesn’t seem to realise how difficult it is for me, trying to work and doing everything there as well. He used to be so different but now it’s almost as though he wants to make things as hard for me as he can … and not just for me. It’s the kids as well. He’s always finding fault with them, snapping at them. I know how worried he is about his job, but that’s all the more reason why he should …’
‘Perhaps he doesn’t like the idea of your working, being independent, meeting new people,’ Kenneth ventured.
Sally looked at him.
‘But he knows we need the money. I can’t believe he’s behaving so childishly. I mean, what would it cost him to clear the table in the morning and rinse a few plates? And if he would just offer to do something to help out instead of me always having to ask, to nag … He went to the supermarket the other day and came back without any washing powder. Can you believe that? When I asked him why he said they hadn’t got the brand I’d put on my list. I mean, he knew I was waiting to do the washing.’ Sally, lost in the relief of being able to unburden herself to someone, didn’t hear the frustration and anger in her voice, but Kenneth did.
He had been attracted to her almost as soon as he was well enough to be aware of her; there was a quietness about her, an orderliness, a neatness that appealed very strongly to the aesthetic streak in his nature.
He liked the simple, natural way she wore her thick, dark hair, her lack of artifice and flirtatiousness. Other men might consider her sexuality to be covert, muted, but he liked that in her. The obvious had never appealed very strongly to him; he found it irritating, offensive almost.
He had seen the look in Sally’s eyes when they talked; had recognised how unused she was to the stimulation of informed discussion, of good conversation, and how, unlike many of those he tutored, she had a humbleness, a modesty, a vulnerability that touched him. She would be a pleasure to teach, to nurture. It was obvious to him that her present way of life and in particular her husband were not truly fulfilling her.
It had shocked him at first to discover how much he missed her now that he was back at home, the strength of his feelings for her catching him a little off guard. Lying in his hospital bed, flirting with her, he had in many ways simply been playing a game, but now it wasn’t a game any longer.
He wanted Sally in his life and he wanted her there badly.
It