Forbidden Surrender

Marie was sitting on the bed when she went in, bent double, her head cradled in her hands. ‘Oh, God, make it stop,’ she groaned. ‘Make it stop!’

‘Marie!’ Sara ran to her, holding her against her shoulder. ‘Marie, what is it?’

‘My head!’ her sister choked. ‘Oh, God, make the pains stop!’ Tears streamed down her face.

‘What sort of pains, Marie?’

‘Sharp, digging pains,’ she quivered. ‘I can’t stand it, Sara. I just can’t stand it!’ she repeated hysterically.

‘It’s all right now, honey,’ Sara soothed. ‘I’m with you. Now we’re going to make the pains go away. You and I together are going to make them stop. Now lie back, Marie. Come on, back on the bed.’ All the time she was talking she was easing her sister back on the pillows. ‘That’s the way,’ she crooned once Marie was finally lying down. ‘Now I’m going to turn out the light—–’

‘No! No, don’t leave me in the dark!’ Marie struggled to sit up again.

‘I’m not going to leave you at all,’ Sara reassured her, holding her firmly against her. ‘I’m going to stay right here with you.’

‘Please don’t turn off the light,’ her sister trembled. ‘I don’t like the dark. It—it makes me think of death.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Do you think when you die that it’s all darkness, that you’re alone in the dark for ever?’

Sara frowned, smoothing Marie’s heated brow, feeling the tension starting to recede. ‘I don’t think so,’ she comforted.

‘Don’t you really?’ Marie asked hopefully.

‘I really don’t.’

Right now she would give anything to know how long Marie’s headaches had been occurring. She would take a bet on its being since she had found out about their father’s illness. These migraine attacks were brought on through fear of her father’s death. Marie was one of those people petrified of death and all it entailed. It held such a fear for her that she had nightmares, sleepwalked, and had these terrible tension headaches, headaches that caused actual physical pains.

‘All right,’ Marie sighed against her. ‘You can turn out the main light now. But leave on the bedside lamp!’ she pleaded.

‘I will,’ Sara reassured her. ‘But I’m sure a dim light will help your head.’ She rejoined her sister on the bed, putting her arms about her and holding her tight. ‘I’m here now, Marie,’ she murmured. ‘You can go to sleep, you aren’t alone any more.’

‘Thank you,’ Marie sighed. ‘I—I feel better now.’ She closed her eyes, starting to relax. ‘I’m sorry to be such a baby,’ she murmured.

‘You aren’t a baby,’ Sara smoothed her sister’s hair. ‘You’re in pain, and you’re naturally upset.’

‘The pain’s going now.’

Of course it was; Marie had been comforted and reassured, and now the headache was fading. As the pain receded sleep took over, and it wasn’t long before Sara knew her sister to be asleep. But still she didn’t leave her, feeling that Marie needed her close, could sense she was there even though she was now fast asleep.

Someone ought to be told the reason for Marie’s migraine attacks. They were very serious, their father’s worried return from his business trip had been evidence of that, and yet they could all be stopped if Marie were able to discuss her father’s illness with someone. At the moment she was obviously afraid to, and as Sara wasn’t even supposed to know about the illness she couldn’t really introduce the subject. The trouble was she didn’t yet know her father or sister well enough to interfere in this situation. That left only Dominic.

But she couldn’t talk to Dominic either, had avoided even looking at him the last couple of days; the memory of their behaviour out in his mother’s garden was still too vivid in her mind for her to think of it without blushing. She had behaved shamelessly, had given in to a passion that she had never known before, a desire to be possessed by Dominic, her own sister’s intended husband.