Читать книгу: «Everlasting Love»

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘READY, Olivia?’

Olivia sighed, moving to open the door to admit Natalie Irving, a young and pretty girl of seventeen, with long golden hair. ‘Are you sure you and Rick wouldn’t rather go on your own?’ she frowned. ‘I can easily go shopping for the afternoon. There are lots of things I—–’

‘Now don’t be silly,’ Natalie dismissed, coming further into the bedroom. ‘Is this your costume?’ She held up the emerald-coloured bikini, leaving the black one-piece suit on the bed where they had both been laid out for Olivia’s examination.

‘The black—–’

‘Too old-fashioned,’ the young girl dismissed with a wrinkle of her nose, and rolled the bikini in the towel, tucking them both under her arm, sighing as she saw Olivia still hesitated. ‘You know Rick feels easier when you’re around,’ she encouraged softly.

Olivia sobered as she thought of her patient, her green eyes thoughtful, a frown marring her usually smooth brow. She was seven years the other girl’s senior, although she didn’t feel it when Natalie bossed her about in this way! She didn’t look it either, in the clinging black vest-top and wrap-around green and black skirt, her legs long and bare, her feet thrust into loose sandals, her hair a mass of red-gold curls, her face youthfully beautiful, even if the chin was a little too determined.

‘I’m not sure that’s good for him,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll be gone in a couple of days now that Rick is well again. I don’t think he would still depend on me.’

‘He doesn’t,’ Natalie dismissed with a confident laugh. ‘He likes you, and he’s grateful. Most nurses would jump at the chance of an afternoon lazing by the pool—wouldn’t they?’ she prompted teasingly.

Yes, they would. And after weeks of caring for Rick Hayes, of making him believe he could walk again, of convincing him that he wasn’t going to be a cripple all his life, an afternoon doing nothing but sunbathe and swim was exactly what she needed.

‘But wouldn’t you and Rick rather be alone?’ Still she hesitated about accepting the invitation. The Hayes family, mother and father, Rick, and his young sister Dawn, had all been very kind to her during the three months she had been Rick’s private nurse after he was discharged from hospital following a serious car crash. But there had to be a limit to that kindness, and surely intruding on Rick’s date with his long-time girl-friend Natalie was that limit.

Natalie didn’t seem to think so. ‘We can hardly be alone with thirty other people,’ she said dryly.

Olivia’s eyes widened. ‘Is that how many will be there?’

‘About that,’ the young girl nodded.

‘Then perhaps I ought to go, on a professional level,’ she murmured thoughtfully. ‘It will be Rick’s first time among so many people, I don’t know how he’ll react to people seeing his limp.’

‘He’ll be fine,’ Natalie assured her. ‘Okay, so he’ll never play football for England—he never could play the game anyway,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘A little old limp isn’t going to effect his becoming an architect, and that’s all he’s interested in.’

‘Besides you,’ Olivia teased, knowing the young couple intended getting engaged on Natalie’s eighteenth birthday.

The younger girl grinned. ‘That goes without saying.’

‘Modest with it!’ Olivia laughingly followed Natalie down to the car where Rick sat impatiently waiting for them.

‘I was going to send out a search party,’ he moaned as he drove out on to the country road. ‘I’ll never know what you women find to talk about all the time!’

‘Men, sweetheart,’ Natalie taunted.

‘I hope you meant that in the singular?’ he returned with mock jealousy.

‘I wouldn’t want to make you conceited,’ his girl-friend returned haughtily.

Olivia sat in the car listening to their lighthearted bantering, smiling to herself. She was going to miss this family, every mad, lovable member of it, from the absentminded Clara, practical joker Eric, handsome Rick, self-assured Natalie, to shy Dawn, the latter slightly overshadowed by the other extroverts in her family. Three months of sharing their big rambling home was a long time to spend in close living with anyone, and the lack of a close relationship with her own parents had made her appreciate this loving and loved family all the more.

But soon it would be over, only another five days and she would be leaving to take care of her next patient, an elderly woman who had fallen and broken her leg, needing nursing care for her first few weeks at home. She would be sorry to leave the Hayes family; she had become very fond of them all. Becoming emotionally involved was a hazard of nursing she had never quite managed to overcome, and she doubted she ever would.

But she hadn’t left this family yet, the sun was shining, Rick and Natalie were very much in love, a wonderful glow emanating from them that made her feel included in their happiness at being alive.

Several boisterous teenagers were already in the pool when they arrived at the Grayston home, and Olivia was at once included in their laughing group, despite her age difference from most of them.

Happily Rick showed no selfconsciousness about wearing bathing trunks, though his legs were still badly scarred from the accident, the limp quite noticeable on one of them. But he was mentally a well-adjusted young man, and had handled the inactivity during the first months after the accident with calm acceptance, only occasional panic setting in as he doubted he would ever walk again. But his progress from not being able to walk at all to walking unaided now had been a rapid one considering the extent of his injuries, and he was coping with his limp with the same maturity that he had handled the rest of his illness.

But as Natalie had said, it was Olivia’s afternoon off, and after assuring herself that Rick was really all right, she lay back on a lounger to enjoy it, very slender in the emerald-green bikini Natalie had insisted she bring in preference to the more sedate black, dark sunglasses pushed on the bridge of her nose hiding eyes the same colour as the bikini.

‘Like to borrow some sun-tan lotion?’ a young female voice offered.

Olivia sat up, grateful for the offer; she had already felt the sun’s rays beginning to burn her delicate skin. ‘Thanks,’ she smiled, pushing her sunglasses up into the riot of red-gold curls.

‘Olivia!’

She looked curiously at the young girl sitting on the lounger beside her. She didn’t look familiar; her long dark hair was pulled back to be secured in an impish ponytail, her face young and pretty, her grey eyes wide in surprised recognition. Grey eyes …?

Olivia’s interest quickened as she studied the young girl, the stubborn chin, the determined mouth, and those shockingly familiar grey eyes. ‘Sally …?’

‘Yes!’ the young girl cried excitedly. ‘How are you? You look well. What are you doing now? Oh, of course, you came with Rick, so you must be the nurse he talks so highly of. Are you—Did I say something funny?’ she frowned as Olivia began to smile.

Olivia’s smile deepened. ‘Well, so far you’ve answered every question you’ve asked.’ Added to which, if she didn’t smile she might cry! She had thought the Hamilton family were well out of her life, and to see Sally again, after all this time, was startling to say the least.

‘Sorry,’ Sally gave a rueful grimace. ‘It’s just such a surprise to see you like this.’

That had to be the understatement of the year! ‘How have you been?’ Olivia asked politely.

‘Fine,’ the young girl nodded.

‘And your father?’ her voice cooled somewhat.

Sally anxiously searched the bland expression on her face. ‘He’s well too. Working too hard!’

‘He always did.’ Olivia sounded brittle, fighting images of Marcus from her mind. She hadn’t thought of him for weeks, and she wouldn’t think of him now, wouldn’t allow this chance meeting with Sally Hamilton to disrupt the even tenor of her life.

‘You haven’t seen him since—–’

‘Not for some time, no,’ she cut in sharply. ‘You mentioned something about sun-tan lotion just now,’ she abruptly changed the subject.

‘Oh—of course,’ the young girl flushed, handing her the plastic bottle containing the brown lotion, watching as Olivia began to smooth it on her creamy skin. ‘Don’t you want to talk about Daddy?’ she finally probed after several silent minutes.

Olivia didn’t look up, her breathing becoming shallow. ‘Is there anything to say?’ She knew the question was put in such a way that it was a complete contradiction of itself, that she very much wanted to hear about Marcus, would accept any little crumb of information she could get about him. And as his daughter, Sally was guaranteed to know plenty about Marcus.

‘I somehow thought—I just never expected you and Daddy to break up like you did. You seemed—well, he really liked you,’ Sally finished awkwardly, her gaze questioning.

‘I’m sure he did,’ Olivia agreed with some bitterness. ‘But there was you—and your mother.’

‘Oh yes—Mummy,’ Sally grimaced.

Olivia’s eyes widened at this reaction. ‘You never used to feel that way about her,’ she frowned, remembering well how Sally had cavaliered her mother.

‘People change,’ the girl shrugged. ‘It was six years ago, I was only twelve, still a child really.’

And yet that child had helped to push the wedge between Marcus and herself, Sally’s obvious aversion to any female but her mother in her father’s life making Olivia’s relationship with Marcus impossible. And that was before Ruth came back!

‘I didn’t understand the situation,’ Sally added lamely.

‘Of course you didn’t,’ Olivia agreed brightly. ‘I’m not really sure that I did. I was only eighteen myself then.’

‘But you loved Daddy!’

‘I may have thought I did—–’

‘I’m sure you did,’ Sally insisted vehemently.

‘Maybe for a time,’ Olivia acknowledged tightly. ‘But a man in your father’s position couldn’t afford to be involved with an eighteen-year-old. After all,’ she added tautly, ‘he was Chief Surgeon even then.’

‘He still is,’ Sally nodded. ‘At a different hospital—bigger.’

‘Yes.’ It had to be. Marcus would be thirty-nine now, and he had always been destined to be at the top of his profession; it sounded as if he had made it. ‘And your mother, how is she?’ she heard herself ask, her breath held in her throat as she waited for the younger girl to tell her how happy her parents were together, that they perhaps even had more children.

‘Mummy?’ Sally gave her a startled look. ‘But don’t you know?’ She sounded puzzled.

Olivia frowned. ‘Know what?’

‘My mother died three years ago.’

She swallowed hard, shocked in spite of her usual calm composure. ‘I—I had no idea,’ she shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she added dully.

Ruth Hamilton had been dead for three years, and she hadn’t even known about it! That meant that Marcus had been on his own for all that time—or did it? Marcus was hardly the type to be alone for any amount of time, hadn’t the two of them met during a temporary separation from his wife Ruth. And hadn’t she been discarded just as quickly as soon as Ruth decided to come back! No, whatever hopes she might have had about Marcus for all these years, there had never been a chance of the two of them ever getting back together again. Although she felt sure there would be a woman in his life.

‘Your father’s married again?’ she queried softly.

‘Only to his work,’ Sally replied dryly. ‘He’ll always be married to that.’

‘Yes.’ Olivia stood up with jerky movements. ‘I think I’ll go in for a swim,’ she told the girl brightly. ‘It’s been nice seeing you again. ‘Bye!’ and she ran to the edge of the pool.

‘Oh, but—–’

Olivia didn’t wait to hear any more, but dived smoothly into the clear blue water, welcoming its coldness, doing several laps of the pool before she even dared to look up again. Sally had gone from the adjoining loungers and was listening rather absently to a young man as he talked to her at the other end of the pool. Olivia levered herself out on to the side of the pool before hurrying to the changing-rooms, anxious that Sally shouldn’t speak to her again.

Sally seemed to have matured into a very nice young lady, and yet six years ago she had been totally spoilt, and completely possessive of her father. Marcus had responded to that possessiveness with gentleness and understanding, but Olivia hadn’t been able to cope with the young girl’s rudeness quite so calmly. And even that hadn’t been all Sally’s fault; Olivia knew she had been too unsure of Marcus and his interest in her to defend herself against any barbs she might receive, too vulnerable and uncertain in her youthful love of him.

‘Ah, good, you’re ready to leave.’ Natalie met her outside the changing-rooms. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Rick has had enough for one day.’

All Olivia’s concern was instantly for her patient, her own troubled thoughts forgotten. ‘I should have thought of that——’

‘Of course you shouldn’t,’ Natalie laughingly dismissed. ‘He’s an adult, he should know when it’s time to go. And luckily he does. If you want to stay on I’m sure I could get someone to drive you back later—–’

‘No, I’m ready to go.’ Her voice was sharper than usual, and she sensed Natalie’s questioning look. ‘I—The sun is very tiring,’ she invented.

‘Of course,’ Natalie agreed sceptically. ‘None of our friends were making nuisances of themselves, were they? I know some of the boys—–’

‘No, no, it isn’t that.’ Olivia assured hastily. ‘It really is just tiredness.’

‘You seem—upset about something?’ the other girl persisted.

Was she so transparent? She hadn’t thought she was, had thought she had built up a protective shell these last few days. A few minutes’ conversation with Sally Hamilton, unwilling thoughts of Marcus thrust upon her, and her carefully controlled veneer had been shattered; Natalie sensed it, and now she was forced to acknowledge it to herself too. ‘Tired,’ she insisted firmly, following the other girl out to the car.

Rick frowned at her in the driving-mirror as they drove back to his home. ‘Are you all right?’

‘She’s tired,’ Natalie answered him.

His brows rose. ‘You seemed to be resting when I looked at you. You were talking to Sally for quite some time.’

Olivia moistened her dry lips. ‘She didn’t ever come to the house while you were ill, did she?’ she queried in a casual voice—too casual?

‘Only once, I think,’ Rick answered thoughtfully. ‘It was probably your day off.’

‘Oh, that one,’ Olivia teased.

‘Cheeky!’ he grinned at her.

‘Well, Olivia’s days away from you haven’t exactly been numerous,’ Natalie reasoned.

‘Go on, she’s loved every minute of it.’

‘Yes, I have,’ she agreed warmly.

‘Don’t tell him that,’ Natalie groaned. ‘He’ll be unbearably conceited about it.’

‘And I thought you loved me?’ he groaned.

‘I do—sometimes,’ she added coolly.

‘Thanks!’

‘I think you asked for that one, Rick,’ Olivia laughed.

‘Probably,’ he grimaced.

Oh, she was going to miss this family! That fact was brought home to her even more as she ate a lighthearted meal with them that evening. Clara and Eric had insisted that she ate all her meals with them, treating her like another daughter they had suddenly acquired. Five more days and she would be leaving this happy family group to take care of an elderly lady, and the contrast between the two households would be extreme. But she had chosen her profession, enjoyed it, and if she was sometimes lonely then that was her fault; the offer of boy-friends had been there often over the years. But none of those men had ever measured up to Marcus—–

Marcus! Couldn’t she get away from thoughts of him today? It would seem not, as she heard Rick mention Sally Hamilton to his father.

‘Sally’s back from Switzerland,’ he told him.

‘And Marcus?’ Eric enquired.

‘I think he’s back too. I know her grandmother is with her,’ Rick remarked casually.

Sybil—Sybil Carr, Marcus’s mother-in-law. Olivia had met the other woman, had found her reception to be frosty, although in the circumstances that was perhaps understandable. The absent Mr Carr was a wealthy businessman—what else, with Ruth’s air of breeding!—and he had been in America on business during the brief months Oliva had been in Marcus’s life.

‘To stay or just to visit?’ Clara asked interestedly.

‘To stay, I think,’ her son shrugged.

‘Poor Marcus,’ Clara said softly. ‘Still, I don’t suppose there’s much point in Sybil staying in Switzerland now that Gerald is dead.’

So Sybil Carr was now a widow. Olivia somehow couldn’t envisage the haughtily sophisticated woman as a grieving widow, stricken by her loss. No, that role didn’t suit the other woman at all.

‘I’m sorry, Olivia,’ Clara spoke to her in her gentle voice; she was a prettily vague woman who somehow managed to carry on in her own sweet way, never hurting anyone or anything, and her family drew peace from her serenity. Olivia liked the older woman immensely. ‘It’s rude of us to discuss people you don’t know,’ she smiled her apology.

‘Olivia met Sally today,’ Natalie put in, spending more time here than in her own home with her parents.

‘Did you, dear?’ Clara gave one of her vague smiles. ‘She’s a nice girl, isn’t she?’

‘She seemed to be,’ Olivia nodded, then stood up to excuse herself. ‘I have some reading to do before I go on to my next case.’

‘Of course, dear,’ Clara nodded understandingly.

Olivia lingered at Rick’s side. ‘Will you be all right?’

‘Why?’ he grinned. ‘Are you offering to come and tuck me up in bed later?’

‘She’d better not!’ his girl-friend threatened.

‘Why not? She has done for the last three months,’ he mocked.

Natalie looked up at her appealingly. ‘Olivia—–’

‘He’s only teasing you,’ she smiled at the other girl. ‘Most of that time I put him in the bed, not tucked him into it!’

She left the room to the sound of teasing laughter and mocking comments, all of them directed at Rick. And at least now the subject of Sally and Marcus had been forgotten.

But not by her. It was all back with a vengeance, all the love, the disillusionment, and finally the pain.

Being a nurse had seemed so romantically glamorous when she was eighteen, a sort of modern-day Florence Nightingale, soothing a patient’s brow and he or she instantly recovered, and every doctor just longing to fall in love with, and marry, a nurse.

Reality had been less of an ideal, and after six months’ training, three months of it actually working on a ward, the other three in the classroom, Olivia had been forced to acknowledge that there was little romance attached to the profession, only gruelling hard work, and even the lowliest doctors treated her as being beneath their notice, romantically or otherwise. Oh, she had no doubt that a few of the senior nurses had relationships with some of the doctors, but they rarely, if ever, led to anything permanent.

Her first ward had been a children’s, and while some of the children there had been very ill, on the whole it had been an enjoyable time, and death had never touched her.

Her second ward had been something else completely—female medical, a mixture of all ages over twelve, although the younger patients seemed to recover quicker and leave after only short stays with them. Some of the older patients, their healing process not always as healthy, made much longer stays.

It was in this way that she had become fond of Mrs Bateson, a woman in her seventies. It had become part of Olivia’s daily routine to spend several minutes out of her busy day talking with Mrs Bateson about the olden days, her fifty years of marriage to Bert, her six children, twenty grandchildren, and four greatgrandchildren. Emily Bateson was fascinating to talk to, to listen to, and with the lack of a closeness to her own parents Olivia became very fond of the elderly lady.

In fact the first time she had ever seen Marcus she had been standing at Mrs Bateson’s bedside talking to her about the expected visit from her frail husband, for the old lady was never happier than when her husband was going to keep her company for a time, most of her day spent in bed because of her illness.

Emily looked down proudly at the gold band on her wedding finger, worn thin with time. ‘Never been off my finger since the day Bert put it there,’ she glowed.

Olivia found the love the elderly couple still had for each other, even after fifty years of marriage, very beautiful to witness. During visiting time the couple would hold hands like two teenagers, and they never seemed to be angry with each other. Mr Bateson was always bringing a small gift for his wife, even if it was only a small container of talcum powder.

‘Curtains, Nurse,’ Sister Marton said briskly from behind her.

Olivia gave a guilty start and turned selfconsciously, only to collide with the person standing directly behind her. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, her lids fluttering up to meet frosty grey eyes, no sympathy for her embarrassment in the hard face as the man brushed past her to begin examining Mrs Bateson.

She beat a hasty retreat, joining the other nurses who had disappeared into the clinic-room at the advent of a consultant.

‘I see they’ve brought in the big man himself,’ Katy Barnes said softly.

‘Who is he?’ Olivia demanded of her fellow student-nurse in a whisper. As the two most junior nurses they were still a little shy about joining in conversations with the older girls.

‘Marcus Hamilton!’ Katy told her, scandalised that she hadn’t recognised him. ‘Gorgeous, isn’t he?’

He certainly was, as handsome as he was reputed to be. Olivia had heard the hospital gossip about the attractive Mr Hamilton, the hospital’s top surgeon, and having now seen him she had to agree with the majority view—he was devastatingly handsome! He was very tall, with dark brown hair, kept short and tinged with grey at his temples, the face strong and dominating; the grey eyes piercing, the nose long and straight, his mouth stern and forbidding, the jaw angled squarely. As a consultant, high above the level of a doctor, he wore no white coat to identify him, and his dark three-piece suit was superbly tailored to his powerful body, his legs long and muscled.

He was breathtaking, and even Mrs Bateson was later full of her ‘handsome young doctor’, although Marcus Hamilton was obviously in his early thirties. That must have seemed young to Mrs Bateson, although it seemed very mature to Olivia.

After that initial encounter she saw Marcus about the hospital several times, occasionally with other consultants or doctors, but usually alone. He seemed a very solitary man, his aloofness from the rest of the hospital staff making him a prime target for gossip, although it was the same aloofness that made it difficult to find out too much about him. And Olivia was very interested in knowing about him, suffering from her first crush ever on an older man.

It was one day two weeks after their first meeting that Marcus actually spoke to her—and in the circumstances she would rather he hadn’t.

Mrs Bateson had been looking anxiously at the open ward door all during visiting time, and finally it was Marcus Hamilton who came through it and walked to her beside, pulling the curtains about the bed himself, emerging ten minutes later, when all the visitors had gone from the ward, with his face set in harsh lines.

‘Nurse!’ he called Olivia over from where she had been hovering, worried by this strange turn of events.

‘Yes?’ She looked up at him with wide green eyes, so nervous she was shaking. ‘Sir,’ she added belatedly.

He seemed not to notice the drop of etiquette. ‘Would you go in with Mrs Bateson for several minutes? I don’t want her to be alone, one of her daughters should be in soon.’

‘Er—Of course,’ she looked startled. ‘What—–’

‘Her husband has just died.’

Olivia didn’t wait to hear any more, but hurried to the elderly lady’s bedside with a strangulated cry of pain. The light had gone from Mrs Bateson’s eyes, and all she could do was clutch on to Olivia’s hand as if she never wanted to let go. She didn’t even cry, although Olivia felt as if she needed to. Sister Marton looked in a few minutes after Marcus had left, nodding approvingly before quietly leaving again.

Time seemed to stand still after that, the time passing although neither of them seemed aware of it; there was no conversation between them, the elderly lady seeming to draw comfort from Olivia being at her side.

Suddenly Mrs Bateson spoke. ‘We always said we wanted to go together,’ she murmured softly.

‘Mrs Bateson—–’

‘I can’t go on without Bert,’ the old lady told her sadly. ‘One day you’ll understand, Olivia,’ she used her first name without conscious thought, although Olivia couldn’t remember ever telling it to the other woman, the familiarity not really being allowed. Not that she thought anyone would object in the circumstances! ‘I’ve loved Bert all my life, and without him I just don’t want to live.’ She lay very still in the bed.

‘Mrs Bateson, you mustn’t talk this way—–’

‘Nurse King!’

Olivia looked up to see Marcus Hamilton standing just outside the slightly opened curtains that were still pulled about the bed, gently releasing her hand from Mrs Bateson’s to go to him. ‘Yes, sir?’ she queried softly, amazed that he knew her name.

‘How is she?’ His expression was intent.

It was a strange question for a consultant to ask a junior nurse—after all, he was the expert. ‘Er—she’s very shocked—sir,’ she moistened her lips in her nervousness. ‘Although she seems to be coming out of that now,’ she frowned her concern.

‘Yes?’ Marcus Hamilton sensed her worry.

‘She’s talking about dying.’

‘God! Sorry, Nurse King,’ he was at once the controlled consultant once again, ‘I’m going in to talk to her for a few minutes—the family have been delayed, it’s been a great shock to them too. But Sister Marton tells me you have a special relationship with Mrs Bateson?’ His eyes were narrowed.

Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘Er—yes, I—I like to think I do,’ she nodded.

‘Then I would appreciate it if you would continue to sit with her once I’ve left.’

‘Yes, Doc—er—sir. Of course.’ She felt no hesitation, although they both knew she should have been off duty hours ago. Or perhaps he didn’t know; he was hardly likely to know the hours of a first-year nurse. But it didn’t matter anyway, she had no intention of leaving the elderly lady.

Marcus Hamilton nodded dismissively. ‘Get yourself a cup of tea and something to eat while I’m with Mrs Bateson. You have about ten minutes,’ he told her arrogantly.

Miraculously Sister Marton had arranged a hot meal and drink for her. ‘You should have gone hours ago,’ she tutted as she supervised the meal. ‘But Mr Hamilton has been most insistent that you stay with Mrs Bateson. I must say that in the circumstances, I agree with him.’

The consultant strode from the ward exactly ten minutes later, his jaw rigid as Olivia hurried past him to return to the elderly lady’s bedside.

‘He’s a nice young man,’ Mrs Bateson sighed, ‘but he doesn’t understand a love like Bert’s and mine.’

‘He’s married—–’

‘Separated, he told me.’ She shook her head. ‘You young people take your marriage vows so lightly nowadays!’

‘I’m not married, Mrs Bateson,’ Olivia reminded her gently.

‘You will be.’ Mrs Bateson nodded approvingly. ‘And your husband is going to be a lucky man. You’re a lovely child, Olivia, so wait for the right man to come along—like I did.’

Shortly after that the elderly lady fell asleep, although Olivia still remained at her side, the gnarled work-worn fingers curved trustingly about hers. It had been dark for several hours when Marcus Hamilton appeared again, and considering what a busy man he was Olivia was touched by his concern for his patient. It couldn’t have been the most pleasant of duties to tell her about her husband.

Olivia easily released her hand this time, making her way outside the curtains to speak to him.

‘How is she?’ His expression was grim.

‘Asleep,’ she whispered, as the rest of the ward settled down for the night. ‘Where are her family?’

‘The daughter who was coming to sit with her mother collapsed in Emergency,’ he frowned. ‘Quite understandable. But unfortunately we didn’t make the connection between them until a few minutes ago. I’ve just come to check Mrs Bateson before letting her in to see her mother.’ He went in to see his patient.

He was gone for several minutes, a hand to his temple as he left the bedside. ‘You may as well go, Nurse King,’ he told her curtly. ‘There’s nothing more you can do here.’

Olivia pushed past him, not caring in that moment who or what he was, her panicked gaze fixed on the still figure of Mrs Bateson. ‘I—You—She isn’t dead,’ she choked. ‘She can’t be!’