breakfast, you know that.’
‘I know.’ He poured her a cup of tea and placed it on the table. ‘I’ve been up and checked Sylvia and she’s still sleeping. Leave her be for now,’ he suggested. ‘She was unsettled yesterday and needs her rest.’
‘And what about you?’ Georgina had already observed the hollow eyes and listless mannerisms as he wiped the flat of his palms across his face. ‘You look shattered. Can’t your Tuesday meetings wait till tomorrow?’ She was angling for information again.
‘No.’ One word, but it was a firm, decisive word, and for a moment she was silenced.
The moment passed. ‘But you look exhausted.’ Coming closer, she gazed up into his dark eyes. ‘Kept you awake, did she?’
Reaching for his jacket from the back of the chair, he gave a wry little smile. ‘You could say that.’ He recounted the previous evening’s fiasco. ‘It seems Edna made her an apple pie, which, as you know, was always Sylvia’s favourite. Sylvia asked her to bake it for her, then insisted on helping and, of course, Edna agreed. But when it came to taking the pie out of the oven, she could see how worked up Sylvia had got so she refused to let her do it in case she burned herself.’
He put on his jacket and began to move away. ‘You can guess the rest,’ he remarked cynically. ‘Sylvia threw one of her best tantrums. When I got home the pie was all over the floor. Edna had managed to get her upstairs and give her the medication.’
He then confided how concerned he was about Sylvia, and Edna’s worries about her not taking her medicine. ‘She’s due to see the consultant in a fortnight,’ he reminded Georgina. ‘I’ve been wondering if I should bring the appointment forward.’
‘Why?’ Georgina was suddenly alert. ‘You’re not thinking of having her put away, are you?’
‘Good God no!’ Anger flooded Luke’s face. ‘What kind of man do you think I am?’
‘A tired man,’ she replied. ‘A man who could be at the end of his tether. A man whose wife has some kind of brain damage, and now she’s a burden to you … dangerous to herself and others.’ She cunningly tested him. ‘If you wanted her locked away, no one would blame you.’
Unable to suppress his anger, he took her by the shoulders. ‘I don’t want to hear you talking like that again.’ The hardness of his fingers pressed into her flesh. ‘Sylvia is my wife. I made my vows before God: “in sickness and in health”. So you see, it’s my duty to take care for her, and I will. As long as she needs me, I’ll be here.’
‘I believe you.’ Feeling his hands on her body, however innocent, was a wonderful thing.
But she had to know what was on his mind. ‘There must be times when you feel lonely.’ Reaching up, she laid her hands over his. ‘A man has a need,’ she whispered huskily. ‘I can fill that need … if only you’ll let me?’
He gazed down into those deep, inviting eyes set in that porcelain-smooth face. Her scent was heady and very feminine, like lilies, and for a moment his resolve began to slip. She was right. He was more lonely than anyone could ever imagine. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it, if he took her in his arms and satisfied that deep-down need that never seemed to go away?
He thought of Sylvia and of how it used to be: her soft nakedness merging with his flesh, the warmth of mingling bodies and that great exhausting passion that swept them along and took all their energy.
Sylvia was no longer part of him in that way. But here was Georgina, offering herself, so why shouldn’t he take her? After all, he was only a man, with all a man’s strengths and weaknesses.
Almost without him being conscious of it, he drew her to him, gently, tantalisingly, his mouth half open to hers, so close he could taste her sweet, warm breath, mingling with his.
Then suddenly he thrust her away. ‘I’ll check on Sylvia, then I’d best make tracks,’ he said abruptly.
As though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he pointed to the telephone table. ‘You know where Edna’s number is, though I don’t think you’ll need it. You know how Sylvia is: she has a bad time, then it goes away and leaves her drained for a while. I’ll see you later.’
Georgina acknowledged with a nod. She knew he had cut that moment between them out of his mind, and it told her that he was either very cunning to have rejected her and was playing a long game, or he was genuinely still in love with his errant wife.
‘Don’t worry, Luke, I’ll see to it,’ she assured him. ‘Mind how you go.’ In a way she was glad things had not gone too far. There would be time when Sylvia was off the scene. In the meantime, Don Carson was satisfying her appetite with great energy, though she’d have no compunction in dropping him when she became bored with him.
A moment later, she could hear Luke running up the stairs and then the faint sound of a door squeaking open. Then he was running back down. The front door opened and closed, and he was gone.
She ran to the window where, engrossed in watching his car as it drove away, she almost leaped out of her skin when a voice whispered close to her ear, ‘He’s gone to see his sweetheart.’
Swinging round, she saw Sylvia. Still dressed in her flimsy nightgown, and with her hair wild about her shoulders, she looked like a mad woman.
‘For God’s sake, Sylvia … you’ll catch pneumonia, running about like that.’
Wrapping her arms round her sister’s shoulders, Georgina led her gently back upstairs. ‘First we’ll get you dressed, then I’ll make you a hot breakfast … egg and bacon with tomatoes and toast,’ she suggested tenderly. ‘Would you like that?’
Sylvia nodded. ‘Then what?’
‘Well, if you feel like it, we’ll think about going out. We could buy you a new fur hat if you want, or a pair of boots to keep you warm.’
‘Oh, yes, I’d like that.’
Perfectly lucid now, Sylvia chatted eagerly. ‘Remember the last time we went shopping?’ she asked with a grin. ‘I saw this beautiful blue scarf in Hatton’s window. I might go back and buy it.’
They talked about the scarf and other items of clothing that Sylvia might fancy, and as they walked into the bedroom, the two of them were laughing and joking, just as they had done when they were young and fancy-free, on the days when Georgina suppressed her jealousy and insecurity and sisterly love was allowed to flourish.
‘I need to visit the bathroom.’ Sylvia turned back towards the door. As she went she called out, ‘Why don’t we have breakfast in town? There’s that lovely restaurant down from the church.’
‘Whatever you want,’ Georgina replied. ‘As long as we leave enough time for shopping afterwards.’
Relieved that all was normal again, and hopeful that it would turn out to be a good day for them both, Georgina softly sang as she busied herself, tidying the room.
‘Honestly, Sylvia,’ she called out, ‘you really are a sloppy devil! You’ve always been the same. I remember when Mother used to blame me for the mess, and it was you all along, but you never did own up –’
She might have
