pent-up emotions of the day. ‘Crazy girl,’ he murmured eventually against her hair, and held her, rocking her gently against his chest while the nightingale sang in the wood and the scent of orange blossom drifted round them in the warm, evening air.
Then with a sigh he put her from him. ‘Go on, go up to bed while I can still let you go.’ He brushed his lips lightly across hers and, turning her round, he propelled her gently towards the door. ‘Goodnight, my darling. Sleep tight. I’ll see you for breakfast.’
On considerably reluctant feet, Bron forced herself to walk away from him and upstairs.
The night was predictably sleepless; she lay, her mind filled with thoughts of Oliver, and wondered if he returned her love. How could he not? she thought dreamily, and finally fell asleep as the sun crept over the horizon.
She was woken abruptly by Oliver pounding on her door.
‘Bron? Open up, I’ve got something to show you!’
What on earth does he want? she wondered, and slid out of bed, her hair tousled, face flushed, eyes half shut. She caught a glimpse of herself on the way to the door, and groaned. She looked a wreck!
‘Come in,’ she muttered, and shut the door again behind him.
He swept her up in his arms and hugged her tight, laughing with delight and something else. She heard the crackle of paper, and then he dumped her on the bed and shoved a letter into her hand.
Sleepily, she pushed her fingers through her hair to lift it off her face, and dropped her eyes to the letter.
‘Oh! You passed your FRCS! Congratulations, Mr Henderson!’
She flung her arms around him and squeezed him tight. That’s fantastic! We’ll have go to out tonight to celebrate. Oh, you clever man! Oh, well done, darling——’
His mouth came down hard on hers, and when he released her his face was blazing with pride and happiness.
‘I can’t believe it—all that and you, too. I’d better get out of here before I do something crazy. See you downstairs in ten minutes.’
He winked and left her, and she gathered her scattered wits and washed and dressed in double-quick time.
The day passed in a whirl of congratulations. Somehow they managed to make some sense of the lectures, but by this time both of them were relying more and more heavily on Jane and Michael to pass on relevant notes during their breaks.
The other delegates heard about Oliver’s success and, not needing much of an excuse, decided to organise a party for that night.
Someone produced some disco lights, which were set up in the conference-room, and the chairs were cleared to leave space for dancing. The sound equipment was pressed into service, and a young SHO, who had done time on the hospital radio as a student, agreed to act as DJ. Jane dragged Bronwen upstairs.
The blue silk,’ she said firmly, thrusting Bron through her bedroom door. ‘I’ll be back in an hour, and you’d better be ready to blow their socks off!’
Bron laughed and shook her head in despair. ‘OK, OK, the blue silk. See you later.’
Fifty-five minutes later there was a tap on the door. Bron was sitting at the dressing-table, clad in a tiny pair of midnight-blue silk panties and her make-up, toying with her hair.
‘Come in,’ she called, and she heard the door open and shut softly behind her. ‘What do you think, Jane, down or up?’
‘Down,’ said a deep voice, and Bron leapt to her feet and spun round, clutching her arms to her chest.
‘Oliver! What are you doing in here?’ she squeaked.
He chuckled. ‘Obeying orders. You said come in.’ He walked towards her and, placing his warm hands on her bare shoulders, he kissed her lightly on the forehead. ‘What are you wearing?’
‘Not a lot! Get out so I can get dressed.’
He grinned. ‘No way. Don’t worry, I’m a doctor——’
‘Huh! Anyway, you’re just plain Mr now, Henderson, so you can take yourself off while I finish my preparations.’
‘No. Is this the one?’ He held up the mightnight-blue silk dress, and she nodded. ‘Which way round does it go?’
‘Oliver!’ Bron tried to sound scandalised. ‘It’s backless!’
‘Pity. I think it would look better the other way round——’
‘Shut up and close your eyes. I’m getting cramp standing like this.’
‘Your choice, not mine. Oh, well.’ He sprawled out comfortably on the bed and shut his eyes. ‘I’ll give you ten seconds.’
It took her six.
‘Right, pervert, do the zip up, please.’
There was a tap on the door, just as Oliver sat up and reached for the zip.
‘Can I come in? Oh, sorry!’
‘It’s all right, Jane. He’s just doing up the zip.’
‘More’s the pity——’
‘Oliver!’
Jane smiled benignly. ‘I’ll see you two downstairs. Michael’s in the bar running up the bill.’
‘Whose?’
‘Yours, I think!’ Laughing at his horrified expression, Jane floated out of the room and closed the door.
‘Do I detect a mean streak?’ Bron murmured, and Oliver glowered at her.
‘Mean? You don’t know him when he gets going. By now, everyone down there will be celebrating my success at my expense, and what’s more I’m not even there!’
Bron slipped on her pumps. ‘Come on, then, what are we waiting for?’
‘This,’ he murmured, and drew her into his arms to kiss her gently. ‘Have I ever told you,’ he murmured, ‘how very beautiful you are?’
‘Oh, Oliver…’ Bron coloured delicately at the softly voiced compliment.
‘Oh, God, let’s get out of here while we still can,’ he groaned.
By the time they joined the others, the party was in full swing. They danced until Bron was breathless, and then propped up the parapet outside to cool off for a while before going back in again.
Oliver eyed her thoughtfully. ‘How are we going to keep this going, Bron? I’m in London, you’re in Bristol—it’s going to be hell. Normal people could commute for the weekends, but the chances of us both getting a weekend off together must be remote in the extreme. We might have to wait weeks on end.’
She tried to smile. There’s always the phone.’
He
