Crescendo

Marina was disappointed that he wasn't coming at once, and Grandie laughed at her long face. 'Why not go up to London to him?' he suggested, and her eyes lit up.

Gideon had not suggested that because he did not want her tired by the journey, she guessed. She kissed Grandie. Gideon would be as happy to see her as she was to see him, she thought.

But she was wrong. When she let herself into their London flat she heard voices and as she opened the sitting-room door she felt a quiver of cold pre­monition before she even saw them.

Gideon sat on the couch and Diana Grenoby was in his arms, her hands framing his face. They were kissing passionately.

As the door opened they sprang apart and stared, and for a long moment Marina stared and stared, going so white her face lost every shred of life and colour. She felt herself falling down a deep dark well into a world which would mean nothing but misery for her from now on.

She turned and ran out again and the lift was there with the door open. She saw Gideon running as the door closed. His voice came hoarsely to her, but she didn't look at him.

London was in the grip of late homegoing traffic and she walked out of the building in a trance like a sleepwalker. She never even saw or heard the car she walked under.

When she did open her eyes to admit the world with a tearing reluctance the first face she saw was Gideon's, and she screamed and screamed as though he were a murderer. The nurses ran and people exclaimed all round her, but she was cowering like

a child with her hands over her eyes. 'Take him away, take him away!'

That was the last thing she remembered, the light through her fingers and her own voice screaming, 'Take him away!'

She sat on the bed and stared at nothing, shaking. She had no idea how long it was since that day or what had happened. Somehow she had shut Gideon and time out of her head, passed back into the com­fortable safe world of her childhood where nothing could reach or hurt her again.

CHAPTER SIX

GRANDIE spoke at the door, quietly, persuasively. 'The doctor is here, darling. Please, see him.'

Marina slowly got off the bed and went to the door. Grandie looked at her with grey anxiety and she gave him a dry little smile. 'I'm all right now.'

The doctor stood behind him, watching her. She had known him all her life and he had never given her a clue over the last months that there was any­thing hidden in her life. Looking back, she recog­nised the conspiracy of silence which the whole village had entered into and was touched by the thought and affection behind it.

'Shall we have a look at you, Marina?' the doctor asked, coming forward and smiling at her.

'I'm fine.'

'We'll see, shall we?' He was being very careful not to distress her, but his voice was firm. He led her back into the bedroom and closed the door, exclud­ing Grandie.

She sat down on the bed, glad to sit down because her legs were trembling. Her head felt heavy as though it did not belong to her and was not too well balanced on her neck.

The doctor took her pulse, his eyes on her face, careful searching eyes that probed her pale features.

'How do you feel?' he asked.

'I told you—fine.' She gave him a hard little smile. 'How do you expect me to feel?'

He did not answer that. 'Could you unbutton your shirt?' he asked her. 'I want to listen to your heart.'

What heart? she thought, but she silently obeyed him and he bent to listen, the stethoscope moving over her chest.

'Any headache?' he asked in his casual voice, as though this were an everyday consultation.

'A little.' Her head was thudding, actually, and from the way he looked at her dilated pupils and grey skin no doubt he guessed that.

He asked her some more questions and she an­swered in a flat calm voice which betrayed nothing.

'Can I ask you something?' she said when he was coiling his stethoscope into his bag.

'Ask away.'

She sensed that he was oddly relieved by. that; his