You Took My Heart by Elizabeth Hoy Page B

good works. Garth came into the ward kitchen when she was making a surreptitious cup of tea for Scatty and herself just before six o’clock. Sister was having her half day off, and they had had a gruelling afternoon. But now, suddenly things had slackened off a bit, and the green distempered kitchen with its screen of leafy trees was swimming in the gold light of evening. On the gas-ring the silvery aluminium kettle hissed cheerfully. Joan turned to find the canister, the little pink enamelled teapot, and found Garth instead! He had come in so quietly and Scatty was miles away at the other end of the corridor. There was no one in the world to disturb them, to object to his being there.
    He said gently, “Joanna!” and she caught her lip between small, white teeth, and looked at him with the tears held back in her blue eyes, the tears somehow held back. He had caught her here so suddenly, so unawares. But it was only for a moment, her weakness. She was steeling herself already, drawing herself back from the touch of his hand, saying so frigidly, “Garth, you’ll get me into trouble if anyone comes along and finds you in here!”
    “Yes, I know,” he said penitently. “But I just had to come, Joanna. I won’t stay a moment. All I want is to fix up a date with you. This is—let me see—Tuesday. What about tomorrow? You still have your Wednesdays, don’t you? It’s so long since we’ve had a Wednesday together.”
    She drew a sharp breath at that. There were patches of white suddenly on her soft cheeks. Just at first she didn’t answer him, turning to switch off the flame beneath the hissing kettle. She took the canister and teapot from the dresser and set them on the table. She was peering into the depths of the canister when she said in a tight little voice, “I’m busy Wednesday. Sorry, Garth!”
    She heard him sigh, half impatiently. “Joanna, my dear!” he pleaded. “You mustn’t be like this. You’ve got to stop being so angry with me about Vera. It isn’t fair, until you know everything. You’ve got to come out with me soon and listen to the rest of my story. It probably isn’t quite what you think it is.”
    Joan said drily, “I don’t see that it has got anything to do with me, no matter what it is.”
    Garth put his hands on the little white scrubbed table and leaned close to her, too close! Disturbingly she was aware of him ... the deep grey eyes fixed on her so compellingly, the browned, healthy skin, the strong jutting jaw with the dark line of the close-shaven hair beneath its tan. The whole aura of him now, so dear and male and desirable stirring her, threatening her.
    “ It’s got everything to do with you, Joanna ,” he said deliberately, “ because I love you .”
    She gave a little cry at that. There were red circles now in the pallor of her face, and all at once her blue eyes were blazing. She was so angry. So beautifully, gloriously angry, the hot tide of her wrath quite suddenly saving her from the glamour of his nearness.
    How dare he talk to her like this! How dare he! She said in a choking voice, “You must be mad, Garth. Quite mad! I don’t understand you. I don’t think I want to understand you—not now. All I want is that you will leave me alone. And that I insist upon. Will you please get it into your head once and for all that I will not come out with you, and that I’m not in the least interested in the story of your marriage to Vera Petrovna. I’m just—just a little bit sorry for Vera, that’s all.”
    And with that she walked out of the kitchen and into the ward, where he could not follow her with his outrageous, incomprehensible statements about love. Love indeed! Like a young fury she set about the business of giving the ward its final straightening for the night, pulling red blankets tightly over still, meek forms, folding white quilts and carrying them away to the big locker in the corridor. She did not even see him go, did not care whether he went or