A Sister's Dilemma Read online

She was rather surprised when he did walk out of the room, but instead of walking through the front door he went to the kitchen. Two minutes later he returned with a cup of tea in his hand. 'Try this,' he said gently to Jo. 'It might make you feel a little better.'

  With a rare burst of temper Jo slapped the cup out of his hand. It smashed against the wall and tea dripped down over the fresh paint. 'I don't want tea! I want nothing from you! Why didn't you try to stop him? You're supposed to be his friend as well as his cousin. And I thought you were my friend too!'

  'It's been as big a shock to me as to you, Jo. I'm so sorry.'

  He stooped to pick up the pieces of the broken cup. Then he walked back to the kitchen and returned with another cup of tea. This time he held it and looked enquiringly at Kate. 'I do think you ought to try to drink some, Jo,' he said.

  Kate took the cup and held it to her sister as if she were a baby. 'Come on, big sister,' she said gently. 'See if you can drink this. It'll stop you crying.'

  This time Jo didn't knock the cup away. She drank the tea and her sobbing subsided a little. Then she moved over to the couch and sat, knees tight together, face hidden in her hands. Steve looked at the still figure broodingly and then left the room again.

  When he returned he held a glass of water and a pill. 'I think you should take this,' he said to Jo.

  'What is it?' Kate asked suspiciously.

  'It's a sedative. I'm Jo's GP. She needs rest now, probably sleep. Can we get her upstairs?'

  'I'll take her,' said Kate. 'I think she's had enough help from men for a while.' She reached for the water and pill and offered them to Jo, who dutifully took both.

  Kate thought a moment and then said, 'And forget what I said earlier about leaving. You'd better stay here; there are things I need to know.' He didn't reply.

  Somehow, Kate managed to get her sister upstairs. She helped her undress then sat by her till the tear-swollen eyes closed. She didn't know what the sedative was, but it was certainly effective. Just as she was tip-toeing out of the bedroom she saw, of all things, a man's set of pyjamas, neatly folded. She took them down to the kitchen and stuffed them into the bin. Feeling just a tiny bit better, she went back to the living room. Steve was still standing by the fireplace.

  'She's asleep,' said Kate. 'What did you give her?'

  'Diazepam. I wouldn't normally use it, I think it can get too addictive, but this time circumstances made it necessary. She'll probably wake up in a couple of hours though.' His voice was flat, emotionless.

  'Right,' said Kate, and went to sit on the couch. 'So now you and me can have a little talk. There are a lot of questions that need answering.'

  He looked at her. 'You want to ask about Harry and what part I played in everything. Fine. But you're not in a fit state to ask questions, and I don't much feel like answering them. Later on I will talk about him, but not now.'

  Kate looked at him in amazement. 'You can stand there and say that?'

  'I can because we've got other, more important things to do. We've got to cancel this wedding, write no end of letters and try to spare Jo as much pain as possible.'

  'We don't have to do it. I have to do it,' snarled Kate. 'I don't need your help.'

  'I appreciate your concern. But you do need my help. I know most of what has gone on, and I know most of the people involved. I can make it easier for your sister than you can. Kate, I can't insist, but I want to help.'

  She looked at him in silence for a minute. Then she sighed. What he said made sense.

  Apparently he guessed what she was thinking. He said, 'Let me fetch you some tea now; you look as if you need it. And I certainly want some myself. Or are you now Americanised? Do you want coffee?'

  'Tea, please,' she said. His words made her think of the cup Jo had smashed and she looked at the wall. The traces of china had been swept up, and there was a damp patch where the wall had been sponged. She looked at Steve curiously. He had noticed her glance.

  'I cleared up as best I could,' he said. 'In some ways I'm quite domesticated.' While he was gone the anger boiled up in her again. She thought of her sister—what would she be feeling when she woke later? What had she done to deserve this? What kind of man was Harry to do this to her? What kind of man was Steve, to be Harry's best friend? He must have known something!

  He returned with a tray holding two mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits. 'You know your way around here,' she said nastily.

  'I've spent a lot of time here recently. May I suggest you eat a couple of biscuits? You're stressed and your blood sugar will be low.'

  'Are you an expert on low blood sugar and stress?'

  'I am a doctor, as I said, and I know you're stressed. I'm stressed myself. I know that you're really angry and that you've got cause to be. You want to hit out at someone, and I'm the obvious target. I don't mind; I sympathise. But you ought to know that I'm equally angry with him.'

  She thought for a while and then said, 'No, not equally angry. Jo is my twin sister. Everything she feels, I feel. Anyway, what's this louse Harry to you?'

  'He's nothing now.' He put the tray on the coffee table in front of her, pushed a mug towards her.

  For a moment she felt a touch ashamed of herself. It really didn't seem to be his fault. But she was so angry! 'Why don't you sit down?' she mumbled. 'If we've got to talk we might as well do it in comfort.'

  Steve sat opposite her, still saying nothing. She drank her tea and did as he suggested, ate a couple of biscuits. Yes, she did feel a little better.

  She had quite taken to Steve when he had met her this morning. He'd seemed pleasant, and the effect of that kiss had been—well, a shock. But then he had turned into a bringer of bad news, a target for her anger.

  Now she tried to look at him as a person again, someone who she would have to see a lot of. Already she'd noticed his dusty cords and checked shirt. He must have come straight to see Jo, resisting the temptation to go home first, to wash and change, anything to put off the awful job he had been given. Kate was now coming to realise that he really might feel as badly as she did.

  'Look, I'm sorry for the way I acted,' she said. 'I know it's not your fault, and there's a little bit of me that recognises that you're suffering too. I want you to know that I appreciate what you're doing.'

  'I'd do anything for Jo,' he said, 'and so by extension I'd do anything for you.' He smiled—a strained smile, but a smile all the same. 'This isn't the time to mention it, but when I met you this morning I thought that I'd very much enjoy walking down the aisle as best man with you at my side as chief bridesmaid.'

  The smile disappeared, and suddenly he was businesslike. 'What d'you need to know?' he asked.

  For one fleeting moment she thought that she too would have enjoyed walking down the aisle as bridesmaid with him as best man. But then she swept the thought aside. 'I know you said you didn't want to talk,' she said, 'but I do need to know a little bit about what happened. You can tell me. I'm quite calm now. And I know Jo will want to go over this time and rime again. I need to be prepared.'

  He took time to think about what she had said. 'Jo might feel guilty herself when she's got over the initial shock. When the anger has gone it's quite common for there to be feelings of lack of worth. She'll wonder what she did wrong.'

  'Are you a psychiatrist as well as a GP?' Kate snapped.

  He shrugged. 'Any GP who doesn't look after the mind as well as the body is not much use,' he said. 'But I guess I'm not as good as I thought. I never expected this. Certainly he's been a bit pensive the last few days—but it seemed like pre-wedding nerves to me. I was completely wrong.'

  She liked him for the stark honesty of his admission. She'd be honest herself. 'I'm sorry, I'm taking this out on you again,' she said, 'and I suspect that it won't be the last time.'

  Again he smiled—and, just as she had noticed that morning, his face was transformed. 'I'll remember you said that. All right, I'll tell you what happened. Talking about it might help me understand it myse
lf.'

  He frowned, closed his eyes a minute. Then he opened them, looked straight at her. She knew that they were grey—but now she noticed they were flecked with little touches of green. Mysterious eyes. She wondered again if she had seen sadness in them that morning.

  'I've known Harry Russell all my life,' he said. 'He's always been a bit of a chancer. When he was climbing, he'd always try a route a bit beyond his capacity. He gave up a couple of good jobs, hoping for something better. The surprising thing is that Harry's chancing usually worked out. He did well.'

  'Tell me about him and Jo,' Kate said.

  'Well, no girl was good enough for him for long. He had a long succession of very attractive girlfriends, but none of them lasted.'

  'I'm beginning to think Jo is well rid of him,' Kate muttered.

  'Possibly. You must understand he was—is—a charming man. Everyone liked him. He was always the centre of attention; he'd make you feel good. Anyway, about two years ago he started seeing your sister. I thought it wouldn't last, but it did. I liked Jo an awful lot—I still do—and I thought she'd be good for him. He settled down at last. I was really looking forward to being his best man.'

  He smiled again, but this time ruefully. 'I was looking forward to the wedding, to being best man, to meeting you, Kate. Then, over the past couple of weeks, after being really excited by all the preparations, Harry seemed a bit—well, thoughtful. Like I said, I thought it was nerves. Late last night he asked me to go to the Lake District for the day, a walk round the Kentmere fells.

  We didn't go in one car; he said he'd drive up and see me there. When we'd finished the walk, he gave me that letter and told me what he was doing. He didn't mention it once on the walk—we could at least have talked about it.'

  Kate realised that thinking about what had happened was causing him genuine pain. But there was still more she needed to know herself. 'Did he give any reason?' 'No good one. What upset me was the realisation that he'd been planning this without saying anything. He's got all his stuff in order, agreed to take this job in Australia. I argued with him for an hour—till I felt like hitting him. I thought the very least he could do was tell Jo in person—but he wouldn't. Said he couldn't. I told him that if he got on that plane never to get in touch with me again. Our friendship was ended. But he still went.'

  'Did you mean that about friendship? I thought men looked after each other.' 'Not always. Yes, I meant it. I know what it's like being ditched. I've been there...' Then he stopped.

  'We'll have to go over all of this later,' he said. 'I'll be happy—' he corrected himself '—I'm willing to talk to Jo as long as she likes. But I do think you should be there as well. Now…’

  His voice altered, became flatter, more businesslike. 'We've got a wedding to cancel. Really, I suppose we should consult Jo.'

  'Let's do all the preliminary work,' said Kate. 'Decide just who to write to, who I need to talk to in person. Then there's the church, the reception, the cars to cancel. I'll see if I can cancel the honeymoon; I don't think she'll want to go on her own.' She went to the desk, took out the thick wedding folder and looked at it sadly. How different her feelings were from the last time she had looked at it!

  'Jo was very efficient with her arrangements,' Kate said. 'It's going to make it easier to cancel. But there's a lot of work.'

  'I've got a good practice manager called Vanessa Welsh. She could use the practice computer to do some of the work. It might simplify things, if you didn't mind.'

  At first Kate thought she did mind, but then she saw the thickness of the folder. There was an awful lot of work. 'Will she be discreet?' she asked. 'And won't she mind the extra work?

  'I'll pay her for the extra work—and she works for doctors—she knows how to be discreet.'

  'It sounds good, then,' Kate said.

  She looked at her watch—it was only seven in the evening! So much had happened and there was so much left to do. Her fatigue had left her, she had gone beyond it. She looked at Steve. She'd only met him a few hours ago, and yet she felt as if she'd known him forever. She wasn't exactly calmer—but she knew now that she could cope.

  Steve smiled at her again. 'We'll do what we can for Jo,' he said.

  'It's good of you to offer to do so much. You must be busy in your own work.' Looking at him more closely, she realised there were lines of fatigue under his eyes, around his mouth. 'How long since you ate?' she asked abruptly. 'Apart from the biscuits, that is.'

  He looked surprised. 'Breakfast, I guess,' he said, 'and a bar of chocolate on the walk. How did you know I was hungry?'

  'Women's intuition. I'll do you a quick sandwich and then we'll start work. I'm hungry myself.'

  Kate foraged in the kitchen, quickly made cheese and ham sandwiches and then put on a percolator of coffee. They were going to need all the caffeine they could get.

  When she returned to the living room Steve was already making notes on a pad of scrap paper. 'First thing,' he said. 'Jo is a theatre nurse, and you know it's a job that requires total concentration. She was going to work the next four days, but I think I'll phone her consultant, explain what's happened and suggest she takes some time off. Andrew Kirk is a good friend; I know he'll understand. And he'll be able to get someone on his list for tomorrow.'

  'That's a good idea,' she said cautiously. 'D'you want to phone before you eat?' He did. They had a picnic meal together and afterwards she felt—well, less bad. Then she reached for the folder. Time to start work.

  It was one o'clock in the morning when Steve let himself into his spartan little flat. He showered, and then poured himself a generous glass of malt whisky. He knew that problems were never solved by alcohol, but on this occasion he needed something to calm his whirling thoughts. Tomorrow he would be a busy doctor. His patients were entitled to his full attention.

  The morning had started so well, and then it had turned into the worst day of his life. The sight of Jo's suffering had been almost more than he could bear.

  What was wrong with Harry? He must be mad! To give up someone like Jo...

  And then there was Kate. When he had met her this morning he had been quite shocked. In fact he'd recognised her at once, but had waited quite a while before going over to speak to her. He'd had to get his thoughts in order. Someone who looked so like Jo—and yet was not her. She said they were different in character. Was that true? They still had an awful lot in common.

  He closed his eyes, and images of the two flashed through his brain.

  'You've been here all week now, Kate, and I don't know what I would have done without you. It's been terrible, but you and Steve have done everything for me.

  And you came here hoping to have a good time.'

  'Happy to help in whatever way I can,' Kate said gently. 'Let's face it, that's what sisters are for. You know you'd do the same for me.'

  This should have been the morning of the wedding, the happiest day of her sister's life. Kate snarled to herself, but said nothing.

  'I suppose you'll have to go back soon,' Jo went on. 'But you will stay for the rest of the fortnight?' There was a wealth of sadness in her voice.

  Kate had been thinking about this. She had come for the wedding, and then perhaps to spend a few days looking round, seeking memories of her youth. She hadn't been able to do it so far. But she didn't need to go back.

  'I thought I might stay for a couple or three more weeks,' she said. 'Lodge with you if you'll have me. I've got quite a bit of money saved, and I'm quite enjoying it here.'

  'You're going to stay! Kate, that'd be wonderful!'

  When Kate heard the delight in her sister's voice, she knew that she couldn't go back straight away. This wasn't what she had intended—but it was what she was going to do.

  There was a knock and then a shout through the open front door. 'Anyone home? It's Steve.'

  'Come in, Steve,' Kate called. 'You always arrive just when we're going to have some tea.'

  He appeared in the living room, dressed in
dark blue jeans and T-shirt. As ever he looked well, his fluid body suited to the casual outfit. Kate was very pleased to see him—but she noticed the flash of pain across Jo's face. Jo liked Steve, was grateful for what he had done for her. But she had told Kate that he looked so like Harry. Every time Steve appeared, for a second Jo was reminded of her ex-fiancé. Kate could appreciate how much this hurt. She also suspected that Steve knew it too.

  'Hi, Steve,' Jo said, falsely bright. Then, perhaps hearing something, she glanced out of the window that looked onto the back lawn. 'Oh, look! There's a kitten.

  Remember they called from across the road, saying they'd lost one? That must be it. Get Steve some tea, Kate, and I'll try to get hold of it.'

  Before either Kate or Steve could speak she had dashed out of the living room.

  Steve looked at Kate questioningly. Kate nodded. They were both thinking the same thing. Although she was always polite to him, Jo seemed not to want to speak to Steve.

  'It's all right,' he said, 'I understand. Because I remind her of Harry, part of her doesn't want to see me. Perhaps I shouldn't call as often.'

  'No,' said Kate instantly, 'I think you should come as often as you can. Really, she likes you coming, you're supportive. And if you hadn't called over the past few days—well, my job would have been a lot harder.' Then she added, 'And I like seeing you too.'

  Somehow, Steve had managed to call every day, partly as a GP, but mostly as a friend. Kate looked forward to his coming; it made a welcome break in the day.

  'She won't come to me so I'm going to put her out some milk and wait,' Jo called from the garden. 'You two drink your tea; I'll be in in a minute.'

  They heard her voice, 'Come on, puss, drink your nice milk...'

  Steve closed the door and then sat on the couch next to Kate. 'How is she?' he asked.

  Kate shrugged. 'Not as weepy as she was. Today's the day she should have got married, so I suggested that the pair of us go out for the day. She just wasn't interested. In fact she's not interested in anything. I've never seen her like this before.'

  'This lassitude is a way of dealing with pain,' he told her. 'It'll pass in time. Then she might start passing through the angry stage. I don't think she should go back to work yet.'