Forever

by Patricia Robins

Genres: Romance

Synopsis

A compelling classic romance from the inimitable Patricia Robins, first published in 1967 and now available for the first time in eBook. Until she met the handsome staff psychiatrist, Bill Aden, Noni Brisbane had been content with her loveless marriage to Philip, a top-flight surgeon. Then, through Bill, she learned that real love was possible forever, despite tragedy and hardship.

Release date: April 23, 2015

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

Print pages: 400

Sample

‘Hello, Noni. How was Eileen?’

‘Eileen? Oh, fine. She sent her love…’

She looked at her husband and thought: Is he being sarcastic? No, of course not… it’s natural he should ask after Eileen. Did I sound surprised…? This is hell. A guilty conscience…

‘Come over here where I can touch you!’

She shut the door behind her and wished the few yards between her and Philip’s bed were a hundred. She needed time… time to sort out her emotions. Time to prepare her defences. Pity was at war with guilt.

His arm was outstretched, his long slender surgeon’s hands held gracefully and appealingly towards her. She drew off her glove and put her hand in his.

‘You’re cold. Is it still snowing? What did you do with yourself in that god-forsaken village? I’ve missed you.’

Steeling herself, she bent and kissed him.

‘I’ve missed you, too!’

Liar, liar. I never thought of him once. There was no time to think of anyone but Bill…

‘Well, you’re very quiet. You’re wearing a new perfume… I like it.’

Was it true that blind people developed their senses to a degree people with sight could not even guess at? It hadn’t taken Philip two minutes to notice the new perfume. What else would he notice? His hands were exploring her face.

‘You have such a lovely skin. Sit down. Tell me all about everything. You’ve no idea how disgustingly bored I’ve been without your daily visits. I never realized I’d miss you so much!’

‘Oh, Philip!’ For a moment, she couldn’t guard against the pity. He heard it at once and his voice rose harshly:

‘I don’t want you to be sorry for me. I just wanted you to know how bloody boring it is lying here.’

Guilt replaced the pity. It was the moment when she should say:

‘I won’t go away again!’ But she couldn’t utter the lie — she would go — she had to go.

‘Well, what did you do with yourself? Tea parties at the W.I.?’

She tried to think of Eileen, her sister, married to a not very successful solicitor and living in a Berkshire village near Reading. What did Eileen do with herself? She must remember…

‘Oh, we went for walks, played a bit of bridge. I helped look after Micky.’

‘I can’t think why she has to call that child by such a stupid name. What the hell’s wrong with Michael?’

‘You know Eileen!’

‘I suppose he’s as crazy about you as ever?’

For one terrible moment she thought Philip was referring to Bill. His words kept repeating themselves inside her head like a reverberating drum: crazy about you, crazy about you, crazy about you. Bill’s last words when he saw her off at the station had been: ‘Darling, I’m crazy about you!’

‘Don’t tell me the kid had forgotten you!’

She let out her breath. Philip meant Micky — Eileen’s little boy who had always adored his Aunt Noni. She returned that love in full because Micky was the nearest she’d ever come to a child of her own.

Philip hadn’t wanted a family; he was too busy with his fantastic climb up the ladder of success; too single-minded and ambitious. Clear thinking, egotistical as always, he’d said:

‘It wouldn’t be fair. After all, what time would I have for kids?’

Now that there was time — all the time in the world, she did not want children — not Philip’s children.

‘I hope Eileen has taught him to say Aunt and not Auntie. I can’t think how anyone as well-bred as Eileen can so easily adopt the ghastly trappings of her suburban husband…’

‘She loves him!’

Philip laughed. It wasn’t really a cruel laugh — just scornful.

‘Honestly, that’s a bit weak, isn’t it? I mean, you’d have thought if she loved him, she’d have wanted to help him up a rung, not step down one herself.’

Noni had known for a long while Philip was a snob. In a way, it was one of the reasons which had prompted him to marry her. Funny, really! Philip came from a working-class background but he’d climbed out of it. How he despised his origin. He had meant to become one of the leading surgeons in the country and he hadn’t wanted to be handicapped by a working-class wife when he got to what he called ‘the top’. He’d married sensibly — not a girl from the aristocracy who might have been too much for him to handle, but one from ‘the county’ — well-educated at good private schools; used to money and to entertaining on the kind of level surgeons might be expected to entertain.

Was he in love with me? I’ll never know. Maybe Philip is the sort of man whose mind will always control his heart; who could direct himself to falling in love with what he felt to be the ‘right’ girl.

Philip could never understand why Eileen married Sydney. The argument was worn out now — always following the same pattern of words.

‘She loves him.’

‘I don’t see how she could love a man like that…’

‘But, Philip, you don’t choose whom you’re going to fall in love with. It just happens.’

‘That’s nonsense. Surely everyone has a certain amount of self-control. After all, Eileen is nearly as attractive as you… she could have married half a dozen different men who…’

‘But she fell in love with Sydney!’

His voice brought her back to the present.

‘How’s Sydney doing these days? Still stuck in his rut?’

‘He’s quite happy, Philip. He and Eileen adore each other and they adore Micky.’

Her voice had risen. Philip noticed it at once.

‘All right, calm down. If you must be so intense about them, at least spare me the details.’

‘But, Philip, you asked…’

‘I know. I’m sorry!’ His hand was reaching for hers again. She was trembling. If he noticed, he said nothing. He ran his fingers over the tips of her nails and said:

‘You’ve broken one. What colour nail varnish have you got on? Have you changed that, too? I wish you wouldn’t change things. It makes it more difficult for me.’

His voice was matter of fact but again, pity charged through her body like an overdose of adrenalin.

Of all people, Philip… blind! To be rendered so suddenly, so completely and so irrevocably helpless. Philip, who had treble the ordinary man’s ambition; who couldn’t stand being dependent; who had nothing else but his work — and to lose it at the very peak of success… Nothing else? The eye specialist, Harvey, had said:

‘He’s lucky to have you. In time, he’ll accept the end of his career. You’ll have to make a new life for him… have a family, perhaps? That would give him a new interest…’

But she’d been on the point of leaving Philip… of running away with Bill. How could she build a new life for Philip when, for over a year now, she’d been using all her energies to plan a new life for herself with Bill.

‘Harvey says I’ll have to stay in this damned hospital at least another month. I wish to God I could come home. Well I’m going to insist I do go home before I’m forced into that damned rehabilitation centre.’

‘Yes, of course, Philip. I’m sure Harvey will agree…’

‘He’ll damn well have to. This is a free country and once I’m discharged from here, I can do as I please. If I don’t wish to, no one can force me to be rehabilitated.’

His voice was bitter. Noni tried very hard not to feel relieved because he was thinking now about himself and this stopped him asking questions about Eileen. She ought to have seen Eileen if only for a few minutes. She’d meant to that last morning but Bill had said:

‘Darling, do you have to go? We could have another three hours — three hours…’

Eileen had seemed so unimportant with Bill’s lips against hers. One would have thought that three days of kissing would have been sufficient. Bill had worked it out, his eyes laughing down at her: ‘Seventy-two hours with an average of six kisses an hour comes to four hundred and thirty-two kisses. Is your mouth sore, my love?’

‘There could never be too many… Oh, Bill…’

‘I hear Bill Aden is ill!’

‘Bill?’ Had she spoken the word aloud? How could he be ill? Oh, thank God Philip couldn’t see her face! No, that was a terrible thought…

‘Yes, Bill Aden, the consultant psychiatrist. He’s been off with gastric ’flu. Harvey was telling me quite a few of the staff are down with it. Simcox and Parslow and half a dozen nurses.’

‘I’m sorry. I hope it doesn’t spread round the hospital.’

So that was how Bill had managed to get away! She’d forgotten to ask him. No, not forgotten, there just hadn’t been time.

‘Harvey’s been pretty good — he comes in for a chat most afternoons; keeps me in touch. They… they’ve got a new man from Edinburgh in my place. Harvey says he’s shaping quite well.’

This was Philip at his best — not bitter as he might have been about the man who’d stepped into his shoes. He had courage. How could one hit a man who’d been hit so hard already? It wasn’t even as if the accident had been his fault. A foggy night and some stupid teenager showing off to his girl on the M1. The boy had been killed outright and the girl, too. Only Philip had lived — to face the consequences. And her… and Bill…

‘My love, I’m not going to ask you to leave him now. I know you wouldn’t… and I wouldn’t want you to. But when he’s on his feet again, then you’ve got to do it; not just for yourself or for me, but for him. Pity is a terrible thing to live with — it’ll destroy him.’

Was Bill speaking as a psychiatrist — or as a lover? How could she be sure? How could Bill be sure? Harvey had said just the opposite. Eileen had written:

‘Of course, you won’t be able to leave him and marry Bill now. I feel so heart-broken for you, darling. If there is anything I can do at any time to help, you know I will…’

Poor Eileen — she probably hadn’t known then that she’d be called on to live up to her promise. She could help — by covering for her sister when she met Bill.

‘Eileen, I can’t live without seeing him. It isn’t just sex although I’ll admit that plays quite a large part. But I really love him, and he loves me. I know I can’t leave Philip now but I have a right to some happiness. I’m asking you to cover for me not for my sake, or Bill’s, but for Philip. He’s the only one who’d be hurt if the truth came out. Please help us. You said you would.’

Eileen’s letter had come by return of post.

‘You can count on me. I’m afraid Sydney doesn’t approve — one can hardly expect him to, I suppose, but he says he’ll co-operate for my sake. I had to tell him because he might be the one to answer the phone or something. He says I’m to warn you that the whole situation is very risky indeed. Any court would be prejudiced against you when they learned of poor Philip’s condition and you would both have to move. Could Bill find another job in another hospital?…’

Noni showed it to Bill.

‘You let me worry about that, darling. Do you think I wouldn’t risk a thousand jobs if I could live with you all the time? I’m young, strong and healthy. If the worst came to the worst, I could become a brick-layer. How’d you like that? Just feel those muscles on my shoulders…’

But her arms had not stayed around his shoulders and their conversation, like so many others, had ended in a tangled heap of discarded clothes upon the bedroom floor.

‘I’ve told Harvey that if I don’t get home soon, I’ll go raving mad. I hate this place now.’

Poor Philip. Poor, poor Philip!

‘And it isn’t just being reminded all the bloody day about the career I’ve lost. I’m sick to death of lying here with nothing to do but listen to that blasted radio. If I was at home, at least I could make love to you. Do you realize that it’s over two months since…’

Oh, no, Philip, I couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to. It’s all different now… now there’s Bill and I couldn’t…

‘… it would make me feel less cut off from everyone. God knows I never realized before what blind people have to endure. You feel you’re missing something all the time. Now, for instance, I can’t see your face. Have you got that shy-little-girl look you always adopt when I mention sex? Are you blushing? It never failed to stagger me the way you turned pink and looked like an embarrassed schoolgirl when I mentioned the topic of bed.’

Dear God, don’t let him touch my face — he’ll feel that I am trembling. Did he never realize that crude sex always disgusted me? One would have thought that a medical man would have known better.

Even after years she could still remember the shock of her wedding night. Partly because she was still very young — just eighteen — and partly because she’d had no mother to guide and instruct her, she’d been extraordinarily ignorant and innocent. If Philip had been gentle and understanding — but he had been concerned only in claiming his ‘rights’ and had refused to curb his impatience to possess her, telling her:

‘You’ll enjoy it when you get used to it, Noni!’

Now, since Bill, she’d understood why it had all gone so wrong. Philip had been totally lacking in the one vital requirement, tenderness. It was an emotion he despised, for to him it meant weakness. He had not meant to be unkind. He truly believed that a woman appreciated domination in bed if not always out of it. On one of the rare occasions when he had been willing to discuss their unsatisfactory sex life he’d expressed his views quite openly and, so he believed, clinched his argument by quoting his past experiences with some of the nurses.

For a long, long time — until Bill, she’d believed that she was at fault. Philip was ten years older than she and in the medical profession. Surely he should know. She felt herself lacking in the proper feminine responses and accepted Philip’s view that she was frigid. She’d even shyly warned Bill of her inadequacies and he had burst out laughing.

‘You — frigid. Oh, Noni!’

She could smile about it now, too. With Bill. But she knew she could never share a bed with Philip again.

Now Philip said:

‘You must be wanting it, too, after all this time. Never mind, darling, it won’t be long now. What is that perfume you’re wearing? It’s beginning to turn me on. Well, at least that part of me isn’t impaired. I suppose I should thank God for small mercies.’

‘If you could have chosen… your career or your ability to love a woman, wh. . .