The Orphans of Halfpenny Street. Cathy Sharp

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       TWO

      ‘Angela, this is a welcome surprise.’ Mark Adderbury rose to his feet, offering his hand as his guest entered the study of his old, rambling, but rather lovely house, which adjoined the surgery attended by his private patients. Situated at the edge of the small but charming Sussex village where they both lived, its appearance was testament to his status as a respected and expensive psychiatrist. He’d come down for a long weekend and did not return until the following day. ‘What may I do for you?’

      ‘I haven’t come as a patient,’ Angela said with the sweet smile that won hearts but these days did not quite reach her eyes. Mark understood the sadness that lay behind those expressive eyes, because when her husband John had been killed in the war, he too had felt the sharp pang of loss for his best friend. It had been then that Angela had drawn closer to him, glad of his sympathy and understanding. ‘I wanted to ask your advice.’

      His eyes moved over her, noting the style of her dress, the New Look which Christian Dior had introduced that April, with its longer full skirt and shaped waist that gave women’s figures that hourglass shape. The rag trade in London had copied it within hours, getting cheaper versions into their shop windows to tempt women who were sick to death of the Utility dresses that were all that had been available during the war. However, by the look of Angela’s dress, she had probably bought it in Paris when she stopped there on her way back from Switzerland, where she’d been on behalf of some patients; military personnel with private means, whose families had sent them for a rest cure after their traumatic experiences.

      In her capacity as an administrator for the military hospital in Portsmouth, she’d sought Mark’s advice when it was deemed necessary to find a clinic which might just be able to mend the minds of some badly damaged war heroes. Yet Angela had known only too well that it wasn’t just their minds that had been damaged; in many cases they had lost a leg or arm, sometimes both, but there was help for amputees these days. It was the men with faces so severely burned that they looked like something from a horror film that Angela had felt for the most, skin blistered, eyes damaged, sometimes sightless – and some poor devils didn’t even have a nose. Yes, there were wonderful surgeons ready to reconstruct a face, but it would mean endless pain and operations. She’d told Mark afterwards that she believed a lot of men would rather be dead than endure the look in the eyes of friends and family … and he knew she’d broken her heart over the hopeless cases.

      He’d told her about the clinic, of which he was a co-owner, and she’d managed the rest herself, though she’d complained bitterly because she wasn’t able to offer the same service to deserving soldiers who didn’t have private means. He suspected that she’d paid for one or two of her lame ducks to have the special treatment out of her own pocket; he’d often done the same himself and thought that having money to spare came in handy sometimes.

      It was a pity that the job of hospital administrator had been her last, because she had excellent managerial skills. The hospital had been loath to lose her but Angela’s mother had wanted her to come home, and since she was recovering from a severe bout of flu and seemed very low, Angela had obliged her – perhaps because she too needed to rest and recover her spirits.

      Mark saw the signs of strain in her face and the dullness of those eyes that had once seemed to glow with life and vitality. Only five years ago she had been considered beautiful, with her dark blonde hair, azure eyes and sensual mouth, the only daughter of middle-class parents, her father a much respected family lawyer. Angela had been expected by her parents – some would say required – to make a brilliant marriage, and indeed she had, though rather later than had been hoped. For years she had led a butterfly existence, playing at being her father’s secretary and enjoying the social whirl, despite her mother’s frequent hints that it was time she settled down. Even though she was presented to several eligible men, Angela just hadn’t found anyone she could bear to think of as a husband and stubbornly refused to give way to her mother’s urging, even though they argued often. However, after meeting Captain John Morton, a handsome and charming Army officer, at a Young Farmer’s ball at the age of twenty-nine, she had fallen madly in love, been swept off her feet and married him within a month. Much to her mother’s displeasure, she had chosen a quiet wedding without any fuss and drama. Angela told her closest friends that her mother had never forgiven her for cheating her out of a big society wedding, but as she had also been fond of saying, ‘With a war going on we just didn’t have time to waste, besides, it would have seemed wrong when everyone was suffering.’

      ‘You know you can count on me as your friend,’ Mark said now, giving her his comforting smile, which, he was well aware, his wealthy patients declared was worth every penny of the exorbitant fees he charged for consultations. ‘You are feeling less tired now, I think?’

      ‘Yes, absolutely,’ Angela replied. ‘In fact I have so much energy that I am bored to tears. I just cannot live at home and help my mother with her charity work or I shall go mad …’ She laughed softly, and his heart caught because it was a while since he’d heard her do so – not since John was killed. ‘Not literally. I’m not going to have a breakdown or anything. I just want something to do with my life – something worthwhile. I’ve had enough of endless society engagements and dinners with my mother’s friends. Besides, Mother wants to find me another husband and I can’t … I won’t let her bully me into another marriage.’

      ‘I agree that three years is too soon for you to think of anyone else, because you were so much in love with John,’ he said, although he wished it were otherwise, because he would have liked the chance to offer her love and a reason to be happy again. ‘Do СКАЧАТЬ