THE LIGHT WITHIN. Yvonne Whittal. CHAPTER ONE

THE LIGHT WITHIN

Yvonne Whittal

He'd shattered every one of her defenses

Even at their first meeting, Roxana had feared Marcus Fleming. But she had fallen in love with him anyway -- a dynamic man whose life-style would be severely hampered by her blindness.

" I won't hurt you, Roxy, " Marcus had said. " Before that happens, I'll get out of your life--if that's what you want. "

Roxy knew in her heart it wasn't what she wanted, far from it. But for Marcus's sake it had to be...

CHAPTER ONE

A car drew up in front of a large grey and white building situated in the centre of Johannesburg, and a girl stepped out on to the pavement, to be followed by a harnessed dog that went swiftly to her side. The girl turned to wave at the man in the car and she waited until he had driven away before walking towards the entrance of the building. Her hair was a rich auburn, waving softly on to slim shoulders, and the slanting rays of the late afternoon sun seemed to finger it with gold. Dark glasses hid her eyes, but her nose was small and straight, her chin rounded and firm, and her mouth was soft and full with the corners lifted as if a permanent smile lurked there.

Roxana Cunningham was beautiful, but she had no way of knowing this. She was equally unaware that her slender figure moved with a natural grace that drew several admiring glances from passers-by. She was also unusually disturbed at that moment, and deep in thought, but the golden labrador at her side led her safely through the glass doors and directly towards the enquiries desk.

'I'll take care of Sheba for you, Miss Cunningham, ' the girl at the desk announced, and Roxy smiled and bent down to pat the animal before she released the handle of the harness to walk without hesitation towards the lift.

Her fingers sought the button against the wall, and the mechanised steel doors opened at once. Roxy stepped into the cool, air-conditioned steel cage, and her fingers lightly explored the buttons with practised swiftness to select the correct one. She pressed it, and the doors slid shut. She waited for that familiar 'click', and then she was being swept up to the fourth floor.

She knew this building as well as she knew her own home. She had come here too often over the years to call on her father not to feel totally confident of finding her way about without Sheba's valued assistance. But today was different.

Roxy felt disturbed and unhappy after her session with Noreen Butler that afternoon, and when she finally stepped out of the lift, her level of concentration was at its lowest. She turned left into the carpeted corridor, walking swiftly in her agitation, and collided so heavily with a solid male frame that she almost succeeded in knocking the breath from her body.

'I'm most dreadfully sorry, ' she apologised unsteadily when she had recovered from the shock of the collision to find strong hands supporting her on her shaky legs. She was conscious of several things in that split second of coming to her senses; the roughness of tweed beneath her fingers, the faint odour of his masculine cologne, and something else she could not define—an awareness, perhaps, that quivered along her nerves like a slow current of electricity.

'I don't usually make a habit of walking into people, ' she tried again, sensing his annoyance, and then those strong hands were setting her aside roughly.

'Perhaps if you removed those infernal dark glasses you'd be able to see where you are going, ' a deep, well-modulated voice accused.

'That wouldn't make the slightest difference, ' she replied, amusement lifting the corners of her mouth. 'I'm blind, you see. '

'In that case you shouldn't be wandering about without an assistant, ' he retorted, not sounding in the least put out by her revelation and, against her will, Roxy was intrigued.

'My assistant is waiting downstairs in the lobby, ' she informed him. 'She's of the four-legged variety, and very reliable, but she knows her place. '

'Whom did you wish to see? '

He used the word 'see' without hesitation, or embarrassment, and Roxy was becoming more than just ordinarily interested in this stranger she had almost floored a few minutes ago.

'I'm going to see Theodore Cunningham. His office is four doors down from here, I think. '

'That's correct. ' His voice sounded clipped; impatient almost. 'Do you think you'll find your way there without trampling some other poor unsuspecting person? '

'I shall do my best. '

She felt him withdraw and, totally flustered by her encounter with this man, waited until she heard the lift doors close behind him before she attempted to make her way a little more carefully down the corridor towards the offices of Cunningham & Fraser, Attorneys at Law.

'Hello, my dear, ' her father greeted her when she entered his office a few minutes later. 'How did you get here? '

'Basil gave me a lift so that I could go home with you. ' She paused, tried to shake off her own problems, and asked: 'Have you had a busy day? '

'Reasonably so, ' Theodore admitted, and she heard his chair creak as it always did when he leaned back in it. 'You look a bit harassed. What's up? '

'Oh ‑ ' she sighed, and shrugged, adding vaguely, 'I had a particularly depressing afternoon, and I'm afraid I almost ploughed through someone in the corridor a few minutes ago. '

'You went to see one of Basil Vaughn's patients this afternoon? '

She nodded, and then she could no longer keep it to herself. 'A young mother of two small children who was blinded by acid. She'll receive financial compensation, naturally, from the firm where she'd been employed, but ‑ '

'Don't, Roxy, ' her father interrupted, and his chair creaked again as he got up and came to her side to place an arm about her shoulders. 'Don't tear yourself apart like this. '

Roxy buried her face against the expensive material of his jacket, and inhaled the familiar, comforting scent of him. 'I just wish there was something I could do for her. '

'You are doing something, ' Theodore insisted with some urgency. 'You're helping this poor woman to adjust to this new situation, and that's very important. '

'Acceptance isn't something someone else can give you. It's something you have to find for yourself. '

' You know that, and I know it, but with the necessary courage, determination and confidence it can be achieved. You can help her, Roxy, but only if your determination and confidence remain intact. Lose faith in yourself, and others will lose faith in what you're trying to do. '

It all made wonderful sense, but there were times, such as this, when her helpless inadequacy filled her with futile bitterness.

'Don't lose heart, Roxy, ' her father continued. 'Just go on trying, and good sense will win through in the end. '

She wrapped her arms about his waist and hugged him. 'What would I do without you, Daddy? '

'You'd find someone else to lecture you. '

He said it so matter-of-factly that she laughed, and minutes later she left the office with him and went down in the lift to collect Sheba at the desk in the lobby.

When Theodore went out after dinner that evening, Roxy took Sheba for her usual run in the garden, but the autumn night was chilly, and they entered the house through the french windows fifteen minutes later.

The house was silent except for the muted sounds of the servants moving about in* the kitchen, and Roxy sat down in her favourite chair in the living-room, her hand idly stroking the labrador's smooth head until the animal flopped down at her feet and remained there, sleepy, yet alert to anything or anyone who might wish to harm her mistress.

Roxy often spent her evenings listening to records, but this evening her thoughts were in too much of a turmoil to appreciate good music. She thought of Noreen Butler lying there in the clinic, and the woman's despondency became a part of her. She had spent almost three hours with her that afternoon, talking, encouraging, and listening as the woman poured out her bitterness and her fears. Nothing Roxy had said had seemed to make the slightest impression, and she had been almost relieved when Basil had come into the ward and announced that it was time to leave.

The snap of a light switch interrupted her thoughts, and an irate voice demanded, 'Miss Roxy, why are you sitting here all alone in the darkness? '

Roxy shrugged listlessly. 'Light or darkness, it's all the same. '

'Tch! ' The black woman who had been Roxy's personal maid and chauffeur for the past ten years approached the chair in her slippered feet. 'Who's been upsetting you again? '

'I was thinking, ' Roxy replied absently. 'If I should ever marry someone. .. '

'Of course you'll get married, Miss Roxy. '

'If I should ever marry and have children, I'll never know what they looked like, ' Roxy continued, ignoring the interruption. 'How terrible it must be for someone who was able to see her children, and then to find that she'll never be able to see them again. '

'What are you talking about, Miss Roxy? '

'Oh, it doesn't matter, Maggie, ' Roxy sighed, fingering the dial of her wrist watch and finding to her surprise that it was after ten. 'It's time I went to bed. ' She got to her feet and so did the labrador. A wet nose was pushed into her palm, and she fondled the animal's head lovingly for a moment before she straightened. 'Will you see to Sheba for me, Maggie? '

'Yes, Miss Roxy. Come along, Sheba, it's time you went to bed too. '

Roxy gave Sheba a gentle pat on the hindquarters, and she followed Maggie obediently, her large paws padding softly over the carpeted floor.

Light and darkness. Going from the one into the other had been swift and painful, and she had woken up in hospital ten years ago to learn that she would never see the light again. As a twelve-year-old she had been unobservant, taking the beauty of her surroundings very much for granted. Now, at the age of twenty-two, she wondered if her memory of certain things was to be trusted. How could she be sure in this world of darkness what it was like to lie on your back in the tall grass, staring up at the blue sky, and watching the clouds change shape from second to second? Was everything truly as she remembered it?

She paid Noreen Butler a visit every afternoon during the rest of that week, and the week after, and Dr Basil Vaughn was more than pleased with the results she was obtaining.

When she walked into Noreen's ward one Friday afternoon, she found her seated beside the open window and joined her there in the chair Basil had placed at her disposal before departing. They talked for a long time about Noreen's children, about her husband, and the news that he had found a job closer to home, then, after a thoughtful silence, Noreen said: 'I suppose you know Dr Vaughn thinks I'm well enough to be transferred to the Lockhart Clinic tomorrow. '

'No, I didn't know, ' Roxy replied, hiding her pleasure at this unexpected news. 'How do you feel about it? '

'Nervous. '

'At the Lockhart Clinic they'll help you to regain a great deal of your self-confidence and independence. You'll learn to read Braille, and how to exploit your other senses. '

'I know. ' Noreen sounded excited. 'Dr Vaughn says it's almost like taking a refresher course at school. '

'In many ways it is, ' Roxy laughed, remembering her own childhood experiences in a place of that nature.

There was a long silence, disturbed only by the hum of activity in the adjoining wards, then Noreen said hesitantly, 'Miss Cunningham—Roxy—I don't suppose we'll meet again, but I—I want you to know that I appreciate what you've done for me. I realise I'm now going to be placed in the hands of people who've specialised in this sort of thing, but none of them could have helped me as much as you've done during these past weeks. I think I can face the future now, and I have you to thank for that. '

'Noreen... ' Roxy reached across the distance separating them and found the woman's hands with her own, 'I'm happy that I could have helped you in some way. It's good to feel that I can still be useful. '

'Useful and needed, ' Noreen replied, her hands tightening about Roxy's. 'Yes, that's important. To feel you're still of some use to those around you, and to be needed as I needed you, and as my family still need me. '

When Basil called for Roxy a few minutes later, he asked: 'Can you spare a few minutes before I drive you home? '

'Yes, of course, ' she said at once, and he led her swiftly down one passage and yet another while he explained:

'There's an eight-year-old boy in the children's wing. He refuses to talk, and he refuses to eat, and we're having a hell of a time trying to convince him it's not the end of the world. '

'How did it happen? '

'He was playing with his father's rifle when it went off, and if he's lucky he'll have partial vision in the one eye, but I can't even guarantee that at this moment. '

'How on earth did he get hold of such a weapon? '

'Gross negligence on the father's side, if you ask me—and then they expect me to perform miracles, ' Basil replied, his voice harsh with anger. 'I've put the young fellow into a private ward for the time being until he's able to cope with having other children about, ' he added as he ushered Roxy through a door and towards the high hospital bed.

The nurse in attendance muttered something about leaving them alone, and went out with a swish of her starched skirt, then Basil said brightly, 'Hello, Chris. I've brought a visitor to meet you. '

'Hello, Chris, ' Roxy began, but her tentative greeting was met with silence, and if her sensitive ears had not picked up the sound of the child's shallow breathing, she would have imagined herself addressing the wall. 'My name is Roxy, ' she tried again, and again there was silence. 'I know, you don't feel like talking much, but if you don't say something, I shan't recognise you again. You see, I'm blind, but I've learnt to know people by the sound of their voices. '

The silence intensified for a moment, and then a clear, childish voice said sharply, 'I wish I was dead! '

'You shouldn't wish that, Chris, ' Roxy said hastily, but she could not help recalling her own bitterness ten years ago. 'Chris? '

There was silence once again, and this time Basil intervened with a touch of impatience in his voice. 'Come on, Roxy. Young Master Chris has tuned out on us. '

Basil drove her to her father's Houghton home in an angry silence, and it was well after seven when he pulled up in front of the house.

'Damn! ' he exclaimed, thumping the steering wheel with his fist and making her jump. 'Young Chris isn't responding to treatment, and I feel as though my hands are tied. '

'He needs an interest; something to make him realise there's still so much to live for. '

'I agree with you. But what is there we could interest him in? '

'I wonder.. she began as a thought occurred to her, then she discarded the idea, but decided eventually to risk making the suggestion. 'Do you think you could persuade the authorities to bend their rules a little so that Sheba could go in with me next time I visit Chris? '

Sheba, hearing her name mentioned, sat up in the back of the car and nuzzled Roxy's neck.

If Basil was startled by her suggestion then he gave no indication of it, and merely asked a little dubiously,

'Do you think he might respond more to a dog? '

'I've yet to meet a child who doesn't respond to an animal of some sort, ' she laughed, ducking away from Sheba's cold nose in her neck.

'It's worth a try, I suppose, ' Basil admitted with growing enthusiasm.

'I think it's worth it. '

He took a moment to make up his mind, then he said firmly, 'I'll have a chat to the Superintendent and the Matron first thing tomorrow, then I'll give you a ring. '

'I shall be waiting anxiously to hear from you, ' Roxy told him as she got out of the car and opened the back door for Sheba to alight. 'Thanks for the lift, Basil. '

He drove away at speed, and before Roxy could instruct Sheba to take her inside, Maggie came quickly down the steps to meet her.

'You're late, Miss Roxy, ' she said a little breathlessly. 'Did you forget your father was having guests over for dinner this evening? '

'Oh, dear, ' Roxy sighed guiltily. 'It slipped my mind completely, and I suppose Daddy nearly had a fit. '

'He was worried, Miss Roxy. '

'Yes, I suppose so, ' she agreed with remorse. 'Let's go in the back way, then you can help me change quickly into something more suitable. '

Upstairs in her bedroom Roxy took a quick shower and changed into the long-sleeved evening dress Maggie had selected for her. Maggie fastened the single string of pearls about Roxy's neck and brushed the life back into her hair, then she stood aside and watched critically while Roxy applied her own makeup; something which had taken long hours of practice before she had accomplished it to her own, and Maggie's, satisfaction.

'How do I look? ' Roxy asked a little apprehensively.

'Beautiful, Miss Roxy. The green of your dress matches your eyes, but no one will notice when you're always hiding them behind those dark glasses. '

Roxy smiled tolerantly and turned towards the door, her movements confident and sure. 'I'd better get myself downstairs, or Daddy might really have a fit! '

" She walked slowly down the passage, turned left at the head of the stairs and, with her hand sliding lightly along the banister, she descended into the hall. Judging by the crescendo of voices, her father had invited quite a crowd to dinner that evening. She disliked crowds intensely; it made her nervous, but, for her father's sake, she always put in an appearance, and usually excused herself long before the first guests departed.

Quick, agitated footsteps crossed the hall towards her. 'For heaven's sake, Roxy, where have you been? '

'I'm sorry, Daddy. There was this little boy, and— —' She bit her lips and gestured vaguely with her hands. 'I'll explain later. '

'You're too late for dinner, but we're having coffee in the living-room, ' Theodore explained, taking her arm and drawing her towards the source of the noise.

Several familiar voices said 'hello' and chatted while Theodore poured a cup of coffee and placed it in Roxy's hands, then she sensed someone else's presence close to her, and there was a certain urgency in her father's hand as he drew her a little aside.

'Roxy, I'd like you to meet a client of mine, Marcus Fleming. He's the director of Phoenix Engineering. Marcus, my daughter Roxana. '

A strong hand clasped Roxy's. 'How do you do, Miss Cunningham. '

That voice! Well modulated, and deep with a resonant timbre, it struck a familiar and disturbing chord in her memory.

'But we've met before, ' she said a little breathlessly. 'And quite violently, if I remember correctly. '

'In the corridor leading to Theodore's office—yes, ' Marcus Fleming acknowledged with a hint of a smile in his voice.

'Good heavens, Roxy, was it Marcus you ploughed into the other day? ' her father wanted to know.

'I'm afraid so, ' she admitted, her cheeks growing warm.

'Well, I'll leave the two of you together then to make your peace, ' her father laughed, and suddenly she found herself alone with Marcus Fleming and wishing for some peculiar reason that she could run and hide somewhere.

'You surprise me, Miss Cunningham, ' his amused voice cut across her frantic thoughts of escape.

'Why? ' she asked, trying to control the quiver of alarm that raced through her. 'Does it surprise you that I should have recognised your voice? '

'Our meeting was very brief, and it occurred more than two weeks ago. '

'You were very rude, I remember. '

'Was I? '

Again there was that suggestion of a smile in his voice, and the corners of her mouth lifted in response. 'Not really. You were most polite, considering I did everything but kick you in the shins. '

'How magnanimous of you to say so! ' he drawled.

She tilted her head thoughtfully in the direction of his voice. 'I think you're mocking me, Mr Fleming, and that's unkind of you. '

'I don't have a reputation for kindness, ' he said abruptly. 'The best I could manage is pity. '

Roxy felt herself shrink inwardly. 'I don't object to kindness, but I draw the line at pity. '

'You consider yourself quite self-sufficient, then? '

'When you say it like that you make me sound awfully smug, ' she laughed nervously, 'but I try not to be a nuisance to my family and friends. '

'Does it hurt your pride to have to rely on others? '

'Yes... and no. ' She paused briefly to wonder whether this man was deliberately baiting her, or genuinely interested, then she said: 'I prefer to manage on my own, but there are times when I'm forced to rely on others. That's the most difficult part of being blind, I think. I'm fiercely independent by nature, and prefer to do things for myself. ' She had not intended to say so much, but somehow it had all come out. 'I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I must be boring you to tears, and I assure you that I don't normally discuss myself this freely with strangers. '

'Are you suggesting we discuss the weather? '

An uncertain smile hovered on her lips. 'That wouldn't be in your line at all. '

'What makes you so certain of that? '

'You're not a man for platitudes. ' She hesitated, wondering whether she had gone too far, but when he remained silent as if waiting for her to continue, she added: 'There's a thread of impatience in your voice that suggests you're a man for action, and not for the social niceties which most people seem to expect and thrive on. ' She hesitated again, then asked curiously, 'Am I right? '

'Quite remarkably so, yes, ' he laughed briefly. 'Functions such as this one call for politeness, and being polite can often be a strain. '

'Do you feel you have to be polite to me because you're a guest in my father's home? ' she asked with a mixture of humour and seriousness.

'Are you fishing for compliments? '

'No... the truth. '

The din of voices grew louder during the brief ensuing silence, and then he said quite bluntly, 'I wasn't being polite. I was being downright curious. '

Roxy could not explain why she should feel relieved, but she did, and she could not resist the temptation to ask, 'What happens now that you've satisfied your curiosity? '

'I get you a fresh cup of coffee. You've let this one get cold, ' he said as he took the cup from her hands and placed it on the trolley beside them, but she hastily prevented him from pouring out a fresh cup of Maggie's rich aromatic brew.

'I didn't really want anything to drink in the first place. '

Marcus Fleming was standing close to her—too close, she decided as her senses became alert to his particular brand of masculine cologne. His hand touched her arm, and again she felt that surge of awareness she had experienced that day in the corridor outside her father's office.

'Do you think your father would think it rude if we slipped outside for a while? ' he asked close to her ear.

She experienced a brief moment of uncertainty, then she said: 'He's so busy debating whether some poor fellow is guilty or not that I doubt if we would be missed. '

'Then shall we seek the peace and quiet of the garden? '

She nodded silently and allowed him to guide her from the room, and out on to the terrace. The tightening of his hand on her arm was a clear indication to her that they had reached the steps leading down into the scented garden. He had done so naturally, and silently, and for the first time she relaxed fractionally in his company.

They followed the path down to the fishpond, but before they reached it Roxy's ears detected the sound of Sheba's heavy panting, and she called the dog to her side.

'Mr Fleming, meet my most valued assistant, ' she said lightly. 'Sheba, say " hello" to Mr Fleming. '

'Well, I'll be ‑! ' He broke off sharply, and a moment later asked with amazement, 'Does she usually give her paw to people? '

'Only if she finds them acceptable, ' Roxy smiled. 'Sheba takes the place of my eyes, and she can normally sense instinctively when someone is a threat to me in any way. '

'I take it, then, that she likes me? '

'She's bestowed upon you the honour of taking her paw, and few people receive that honour. '

'How long have you had her? ' he asked.

'Four years. '

'She's a beauty. '

'So I'm told, ' Roxy replied without rancour or bitterness. 'There's a bench just along here. Shall we sit down? '

'Have you always been blind? ' he asked directly once they were seated.

'No. ' Her fingers absently caressed Sheba's big head resting in her lap. 'I lost my sight ten years ago when I was twelve. '

'Why do you wear those dark glasses? '

She stiffened with a measure of resentment. 'Why do you ask so many questions? *

'Would you prefer it if I deliberately avoided the subject of your blindness? '

There was an indefinable thread of steel in that beautiful voice, and she considered his question carefully before saying with complete sincerity, 'You're the first man I've known, other than my father and Dr Vaughn, who doesn't feel uncomfortable in my company. '

'I don't see why I should feel uncomfortable. I feel quite secure in the knowledge that you can't see the third eye in the middle of my forehead, my broken nose, and my buck teeth. '

'Don't be silly! ' she laughed.

'You see? ' he mocked her. 'You've already attached a face to my voice, and I could be as ugly as sin and you wouldn't know it. '

She had never met a man like Marcus Fleming before who could put her so at ease, and she said thoughtfully, 'You intrigue me. '

'You've stolen my line, ' he accused shortly.

'Your line? '

'The man usually tells the woman that he finds her intriguing when he's actually trying to tell her that she's beautiful. '

Roxy felt a strange stirring in her breast. Was she beautiful? Her father and Maggie were always telling her so, but was she truly beautiful, or were they merely trying to appease her?

'You're mocking me again, I think, ' she said uncertainly.

'And you haven't answered my question, ' he returned swiftly, his arm brushing against hers and sending those little sparks of awareness quivering through her. 'Why do you hide behind those dark glasses? '

'People usually find it disconcerting when I look beyond them, or stare fixedly at their noses, ' she told him self-consciously.

'Unless they have warts on their noses, I can't see why it should bother them, or you, for that matter. '

Her soft laughter rang out clearly in the silent, moonlit garden. 'I never thought of it like that before. '

'What do you do with yourself all day? ' he continued to question her, and she decided suddenly that she did not mind if he did.

'In the mornings I work at home, transcribing books into Braille, and in the afternoons I visit patients at the eye clinic who've lost their sight. '

'So you're a part-time social worker. '

'I wouldn't describe myself as such, ' she corrected with a touch of humility. 'I help them with the process of adjusting to their blindness, or I try to. '

'Do you have much success? '

'Basil seems to think so. '

'Basil? '

'Dr Vaughn, ' she explained, wondering whether she had imagined that Marcus Fleming had suddenly grown tense beside her. 'He's an eye specialist, and he happens to be my doctor as well as my employer and friend. '

'Do you go to the clinic every day of the week? ' he asked, his voice giving nothing away.

'I go whenever I'm needed, or whenever I feel it necessary to spend more time with a patient. '

'What do you do for recreation? '

He sounded like an over-curious journalist, she thought with a touch of wry humour, but she answered him nevertheless. 'I play chess, and I listen to records. '

'What about coming out to Hartebeespoort Dam with me on Sunday? We could take a boat out on the dam, and have a picnic lunch somewhere shady. '

The invitation was so unexpected and so sudden that she was momentarily at a loss for words.

'Don't you like the idea? ' he asked abruptly, and she pulled herself together with an effort.

'I've never been on a boat before, ' she explained hesitantly. 'Well... not since I was a child, and I... '

'You'll be quite safe with me, ' he assured her, almost as if he had guessed her fears. 'Will you come? '

Roxy had a peculiar feeling that she had reached some sort of crossroads in her life. If she refused his invitation there was a strong possibility that they might never meet again, and if she accepted, it could lead to something she had tried to avoid up till now. There was something about Marcus Fleming that made him stand out above all the other men she had known. It was something indefinable, but she could feel herself being drawn as if by a magnet, and although her common sense urged her to refuse, there was another part of her that urged her to do the opposite.

'I think I would like to accept your invitation, ' she said quickly before she could change her mind.

'That's settled then, ' he said at once. 'I'll pick you up at ten this Sunday morning. '

They remained outside in the garden for a little while longer, but when the night air became too chilly he took her inside, and Sheba, feeling neglected, went round to her kennel at the back of the house.

Marcus Fleming did not stay long after that, and when he sought her out to say goodnight, she smiled up at him and said: 'I shall look forward to Sunday, Mr Fleming. '

'The name's Marcus, ' he said lightly, his fingers tightening briefly about hers, and her cheeks grew warm as he added: 'Goodnight, Roxy. '

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