CHAPTER SIX

The possibility of having an operation some day in the future was never discussed between Roxy and her father, but it was there; the unmentionable yet ever-present subject that lurked like a stealthy shadow in their minds, and thrusting long, strained silences between them.

'I met an old acquaintance of mine today, ' Theodore told her after dinner one evening when one of those awkward silences threatened between them. 'It's Jim McGregor. You may not remember him, but I once did a lot of work for his company in Zimbabwe, and I understand now that he's been living here in Johannesburg for the past year. '

'Jim McGregor? ' Roxy frowned momentarily, then her brow cleared. 'I seem to remember that his daughter Constance was in my class at school. '

'That's correct, yes. She's married now and living in Australia. '

Constance McGregor had been blonde, fragile-looking, and an ingrate snob who had made herself unpopular with most of the children in the class, Roxy recalled vividly, and although her interest waned instantly, she said politely, 'You must have had a lot to talk about after all these years. '

'We did, yes, ' Theodore admitted enthusiastically. 'We had lunch together, and he told me, incidentally, that it was Marcus who'd told him how to contact me. '

'Marcus? ' she questioned with quickening interest while trying to ignore the stab of pain at the mention of his name.

'They met on a flight to Rio de Janeiro last month, ' her father explained. 'They actually met before their flight left that evening while they were having a drink in the lounge, and ‑ '

'Evening? ' she interrupted sharply, every nerve vibratingly alive and alert as she clutched at the arms of her chair and repeated urgently, 'Did you say evening? '

'As far as I know there's only that one flight to Rio de Janeiro on a Friday evening, but why do you ask? '

'Oh, God! ' she groaned, her mind in a state of confusion at the surprising discovery she had made.

What did it mean? What could it mean? Was it possible that somewhere, somehow, something had gone wrong? A misunderstanding, perhaps? Why send her a note saying that he would be leaving on an earlier flight when there was no earlier flight? And why neglect to contact her as he had stated in the note, and then treat her in that offhanded manner as if she were the guilty party? It just did not make sense! She had not delved into the subject so deeply before, but, now that she stopped to consider, it seemed so unlike Marcus to behave in that manner.

'Roxy, what is it? ' her father interrupted her puzzled thoughts, and without hesitation, she confided in him.

'I had an appointment to have lunch with Marcus that day he left for Rio de Janeiro. It was rather important, but then I received a note from him that Friday morning telling me he couldn't meet me as arranged because he was leaving on an earlier flight. ' She bit her lip to control its trembling. 'Do you suppose he changed his mind about meeting me, and then took the easy way out by lying about his departure time? '

'That doesn't sound like Marcus, ' her father said at once. 'If he'd changed his mind about meeting you, then he would have come right out and told you so instead of misleading you with lies. '

'That's what I thought, ' she murmured distractedly, her mind running riot. Was it possible that he had waited for her that day at Carlo's? But why send that note cancelling their appointment? The more she thought about it, the more bewildered and confused she became, but one thing was certain - she was going to find out exactly what happened and, jumping up to ring through for Maggie, she said: 'Daddy, I must go out. It's important. '

'You can't go out alone at this time of night, ' her father protested instantly, following her across the room.

'Daddy, I must! ' she cried desperately, and at the sound of footsteps approaching the hall, she turned and said quickly, 'Maggie, get the car out while I fetch my coat. '

'Where do you want to go to at this time of night, Miss Roxy? ' Maggie demanded in astonishment.

'I'll explain on the way. '

Her father's hand came down on her arm. 'You may go on condition that you take Sheba with you, but I hope you know what you're doing, Roxy. '

'I hope so too, ' she admitted, placing her hand over his and squeezing it lightly. 'Oh, I hope so too! '

She felt excited and afraid simultaneously as Maggie drove her into the city with a panting Sheba seated in the back of the car. She was acting intuitively, and it could lead to nothing, but it was worth a try. She might end up making a fool of herself once again, but she would not rest until she had solved this puzzling mystery. There might, of course, be no mystery attached to the incident at all, she told herself, chewing her bottom lip nervously, but she had to make sure of that.

Carlo was having a busy night, judging from the sound of activity that reached Roxy's ears when Maggie left her at the entrance to the restaurant, but he came to her at once and raised her hand to his lips in his usual latin manner.

'Signorina Cunningham, ' he said with genuine warmth. 'This is an honour. '

'Carlo, I need some information. '

'And a cup of good strong Italian coffee, ' he insisted, drawing her towards a quiet table and seating himself opposite her. The coffee arrived a few seconds later as if it had been there waiting for her, and only when she had swallowed down almost half the contents of her cup did he ask, 'What kind of information did you want, signorina? '

Now that the moment had come, Roxy felt foolishly nervous, and she clenched her hands tightly in her lap to stop them from shaking. 'Do you recall whether Marcus came to lunch here one Friday afternoon last month? On the twelfth, to be exact? '

That is a difficult question, signorina, ' Carlo replied. 'He has lunch here sometimes, but I cannot say for certain that he was here on the day you mentioned. '

'On the Friday I'm referring to he may have been waiting for someone to join him, ' Roxy tried again. 'Does that help at all? '

'Si, si, I think so, ' Carlo told her after a moment of careful deliberation. 'He came in here and sat down at his usual table, but he did not order lunch. Si, that is right. He was waiting for someone, he said, and he waited for almost an hour, but when this person did not arrive... he left. '

She sucked her breath in sharply and felt a little sick as she visualised Marcus waiting there for her while she had sat at home nursing her disappointment after receiving that note telling her he had to cancel their meeting.

'Did he—did he look upset? ' she asked hesitantly.

'He looked very angry, signorina, ' Carlo told her with strong emphasis. 'Do you know who he was waiting for that day? '

'Yes, ' she nodded miserably. 'He was waiting for me. '

'Ah! ' he muttered sympathetically. 'You had been having a lovers' argument? '

'Not exactly, ' she smiled with faint amusement, 'but it was very important at the time that we should meet and talk things over, and—and I had every intention of coming, but then I—I received that note. '

'A note, signorina? '

'A note telling me that he couldn't make it, ' she explained.

'But why should he send a note to say that he could not meet you when he was here waiting for you all the time? ' Carlo demanded in confused astonishment.

Roxy sighed heavily. 'That's something I wish I understood myself, Carlo. '

'Perhaps someone was making a joke, ' he proffered hesitantly.

'A joke? ' She bit her lip and frowned. 'Who would want to play a cruel joke like that? And who would have known we were to meet each other here and then set about doing such a terrible thing? '

'A woman, perhaps, ' Carlo suggested at length. 'A jealous woman can do terrible things, signorina. '

'Yes, but who? '

Even as she asked the question a curtain of fog seemed to lift from her mind. She recalled that morning in detail when she had received that first letter from Marcus asking her to meet him for lunch on the Friday. Maggie had read the letter to her before placing it in her hand, and then Vera had walked in with those tickets for the charity concert. Roxy recalled placing the folded letter on her desk, but, when Vera had left, the letter had lain there unfolded. Yes, she remembered now thinking it strange at the time, but her thoughts had been so taken up with Marcus that the incident had made no impression on her at all.

'You have thought of someone? ' Carlo interrupted her thoughts curiously.

'Yes, but ‑ ' She paused guiltily. 'Oh, I don't know. She couldn't have—she wouldn't have, surely, but ‑ '

'It is possible, si? ' Carlo prompted.

'Yes, it's possible, ' she was forced to admit, albeit reluctantly. Vera had sounded more than ordinarily bitchy that morning, and no one else but she could have thought up such a clever way of causing trouble, Roxy realised in dismay as she rose to her feet and held out her hand to the man opposite her. 'Carlo... thank you so much. You've helped me tremendously. '

'I am always at your service, signorina, ' he said with a warm smile in his voice as he raised her hand to his lips, then her escorted her to where Maggie was waiting for her in the car. 'Arrivederci, signorina. '

'Arrivederci, Carlo, ' she smiled, and then Maggie was swerving the car into the traffic.

'Did you find out anything, Miss Roxy? ' Maggie wanted to know.

'Yes, I did, ' she replied abruptly, evading Sheba's cold nose in her neck. 'I'm almost certain now that the note never came from Mr Fleming. '

'What do you mean, Miss Roxy? '

'Never mind, ' she said impatiently. 'You have the address, so take me to Mr Fleming's flat. '

'But, Miss Roxy, you can't go to a man's flat at this time of night, ' Maggie exclaimed in dismay. 'It wouldn't look right. '

'I don't particularly care what it looks like, Maggie, ' she retorted anxiously. 'It's very important to me that this misunderstanding be cleared between Mr Fleming and myself, and to do that I must speak to him. I must explain. '

'But, Miss Roxy ‑ '

'Please, Maggie, ' she interrupted tiredly as she felt her headache returning. 'Don't argue. Just take me there. '

Maggie muttered something under her breath, but she knew that once Roxy had made up her mind about something, nothing would dissuade her, so she drove on to the address Roxy had once asked her to look up out of curiosity.

The building they entered some minutes later was expensive-looking and still comparatively new, Maggie informed Roxy as they crossed the foyer to where the names of the tenants were listed, but Roxy had little interest in anything at that moment except the reason for her presence there.

'Which floor? ' she demanded abruptly, her hand tightening on Sheba's harness.

'The sixth, Miss Roxy, ' Maggie answered. 'Number 603. '

'Come on, ' Roxy said impatiently, and when they stood in the lift carrying them up to the sixth floor, she asked, 'Which is the ground floor button? '

'Bottom left, ' Maggie replied, and Roxy's fingers explored the control buttons to familiarise herself with them.

The lift came to a smooth halt and the doors slid open with a minimum of noise, but when they stepped out of it Roxy paused and said nervously, 'Describe the place to me, please. '

'There are three flats on this floor. Miss Roxy. One to the left of where you are standing, one straight ahead, and one to the right. '

'Which is Mr Fleming's? "

'The one to your right, ' said Maggie with obvious reluctance. 'It's about ten steps from here, Miss Roxy, and the doorbell is on the right side of the door. '

'Thank you. '

'Shall I wait for you, Miss Roxy? '

'Downstairs in the foyer, yes, and take Sheba with you to keep you company. '

'Miss Roxy. . . '

'Stop worrying, ' Roxy smiled nervously, placing Sheba in Maggie's care. 'Just go and wait downstairs. I'll manage perfectly well on my own. '

Maggie mumbled something unintelligible, but the lift doors opened and closed, and then Roxy was alone. Ten steps, Maggie had said, and pacing them off Roxy found herself almost directly in front of a panelled door. Her hand found a small button to the right of the door, but at that point her courage seemed to desert her. Her nerves had become knotted at the pit of her stomach, and her heart was beating so hard and fast in her breast that she felt ridiculously faint. She doubted suddenly whether it had been wise of her to come to Marcus's flat in this manner. How would he receive her? And what if he no longer cared? Her finger hovered over the button, trembling with indecision, but then she knew she had to make the effort to clear up the misunderstanding which had created such an insurmountable barrier between them. A bell chimed somewhere behind that panelled door and, after what seemed like an eternity, the door was opened.

'Roxy! ' That deep, well-modulated voice registered a measure of surprise, but it was cold to the point of rudeness when he demanded harshly, 'What are you doing here at this time of night, and what do you want? '

There was a smothered feeling in her chest, and a dryness in her throat as she found herself stammering, 'I—I'd like to talk to you, if I may. '

'I can't think of anything we have to say to each other. '

'Marcus, please, ' she begged hoarsely, running the tip of her tongue across her dry lips. 'It's important. '

'Then say what you have to say, and go back to where you came from. '

It was like a slap in the face, and she felt that humiliating warmth surge into her cheeks as she said unsteadily, 'It wasn't easy coming here this evening. '

'Congratulations, ' he returned sarcastically.

'Please. . . ' Somewhere inside Beethoven's Appassionata Sonata was playing softly, poignantly, and gathering the remnants of her courage, she pleaded softly, 'Let me explain, Marcus. '

'Explain about what? '

'That day I was supposed to meet you at Carlo's—' she began, but she broke off abruptly when she heard him utter a disparaging sound.

'There's nothing to explain that I don't already know, ' he told her in that cold, unrelenting manner that seemed to stab her right through the heart. 'My letter to you was most explicit, and you acted upon it as you chose to at the time. I understood, and that's all there is to it. '

Roxy drew a shaky breath. 'But I didn't ‑ '

'Who's at the door, Marcus? ' a smooth, feminine voice cut across Roxy's denial, and it sent the blood flowing like ice through her veins.

'No one of importance, Gail, ' Marcus delivered the final blow, and Roxy clutched at the door-frame for support when she felt herself swaying, then, through the veil of her misery, she heard that mocking voice enquire, 'You were saying, Roxy? '

It was several seconds before she could speak, and when she did her voice sounded odd, and distant to her own ears. 'It doesn't matter, ' she said. 'I'm sorry. It was a mistake to come. '

She turned, knowing that his eyes followed her slow, uncertain steps in the general direction of the lift, but he offered her no assistance, and neither would she have accepted it. She fumbled for the button which would send the lift up to her, her back stiff and erect, but when those steel doors finally enclosed her in that small, confined cage, she sagged against the wall and shivered uncontrollably as a deathly coldness made its way along every nerve and sinew of her body.

What a fool she had been, she thought bitterly, and she laughed a little hysterically as the lift bore her down to the ground floor. What a fool! What an idiot to imagine that the incident had left him equally disturbed and unhappy. For Marcus it had become something of the past, while his present, and possibly his future, was up there in his flat with him, waiting impatiently for him to return to her arms the moment he had got rid of the nuisance at the door.

'Oh, God, ' she thought, pressing her fingers against her temples. 'If only this pain would stop then maybe I'd be able to think straight. '

Maggie was in the foyer to meet Roxy when she stepped out of the lift, and Roxy's hand was taken at once and placed on Sheba's harness. They walked out of the building in silence, and it was not until Maggie had steered the car into the late evening traffic that she asked curiously,

'Did you speak to Mr Fleming, Miss Roxy? '

'I spoke to him. '

Maggie remained silent as if she expected Roxy to elaborate, then she asked with a measure of uncertainty in her voice, 'Is everything settled now? '

'Everything is settled, ' Roxy replied dully, her head throbbing now as if a sledge-hammer was beating against her temples.

'I'm glad, Miss Roxy. '

'So am I, Maggie, ' Roxy answered tiredly, leaning her head back against the seat. 'So am I. '

When they arrived at the house she went up to her room at once and swallowed down one of the capsules Basil had prescribed for her headache. She bathed and changed into a nighty and a warm bath robe, but she did not get into bed. Instead, she sat down on the padded window-seat and listened to the night sounds through her partially opened window. It was a cold night, but she seemed not to notice while her mind was occupied with the feverish thoughts that cascaded through it.

She had known from the start that she would be the one to suffer if she allowed herself to become involved with Marcus, but she had been drawn to him like a moth to a lighted candle. It was inevitable that her wings would become singed, and her pain was like a flame devouring her. What a gullible fool she had been; an innocent playing at a game which had required a woman of experience, and the rules had firmly excluded the word 'love'. Dear heaven! She had not wanted to love him, but it had crept up on her stealthily and swiftly until she could no longer deny it to herself. She had wanted to end their relationship, but then his letter had arrived, and she had changed her mind about never seeing him again. Now, as a result of Vera's obvious interference, it was over, and she knew that, deep down in her heart, she had never wanted to end it at all. She loved Marcus too much, and too deeply, but fate had determined differently, and here she was, left out in the cold while someone else continued the game and played it according to the unspoken rules.

'Oh, Marcus, Marcus. . she whispered agonisingly into the night, and all her pain and despair was interned in the mention of his name.

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and fell unheeded on to her hands where they lay limply in her lap. She made no effort to restrain them, and they continued to flow until she felt drained and devoid of feeling.

Her tears had long since dried on her cheeks when there was a light tap on her bedroom door, and moments later her father's heavy footsteps crossed the room towards her.

'Roxy? ' he questioned quietly. 'Where did you go to this evening? '

To lie to her father did not occur to her, and she said quite clearly, 'I went to see Marcus after making a few enquiries at Carlo's restaurant. '

There was a brief silence as if he were digesting her statement, then he asked, 'Did you sort out the misunderstanding? '

'Yes, ' she said, and in truth that was not a lie.

'Would you like to talk about it? ' Theodore persisted, detecting something in her manner which obviously disturbed him.

'No, ' she shook her head. 'There's nothing to talk about. '

" I'll leave you, then. '

'Daddy? ' she began as he turned from her. 'Sit down a minute. '

He did as she requested and took the hands she extended towards him, his fingers tightening about hers and offering the comfort she needed. 'What is it, my dear? ' he questioned her urgently.

'Daddy, I know this is going to be difficult for you, but ‑ ' She paused momentarily, searching for the right words. She knew what she wanted now, and all that remained for her to do was to convince her father. 'I want to take that chance Basil offered me. I don't want to wait. I want him to operate. '

'Roxy, no! ' Theodore exclaimed in anguish, his hands shaking as they held hers.

'Please, Daddy. Please! ' she begged feverishly. 'I've got to take that chance. Don't you see? '

'We'll talk about it tomorrow, ' her father tried to dismiss the subject, but Roxy was equally determined to thrash it out that very minute.

'We'll talk about it now, ' she insisted, a calm, deadly determination taking possession of her. 'I've made up my mind. It's all... or nothing. '

Preferably nothing, she thought secretly. There was nothing left to live for, only the memory of harsh words cutting her to the core.

'Do you know what you're asking of me, Roxy? ' her father asked, defeat in every syllable he seemed to utter with such difficulty.

'I know what I'm asking, ' she replied, her compassionate heart understanding what it would mean to him if the operation were a failure, but she also knew what it would mean to her. It would be a release from the pain and the despair of loving unwisely and, next to having her sight restored, that was what she wanted more than anything on earth at that moment. 'I know I'm most probably being selfish, ' she said at length, 'but whatever happens, I can't go on like this. '

She was in his arms then, burying her face against the roughness of his dressing gown and inhaling the familiar scent of him. She felt suddenly incredibly tired, as if it had taken a tremendous effort to reach this decision to have the operation, and she leaned against him heavily, remembering how, during that first year of her blindness, she had fallen asleep in his arms many a night because she had feared those ominously silent hours after sunset.

Roxy awakened the following morning with the feeling that she had lived through a nightmare, but it did not alter her decision, and when Basil Vaughn walked into his consulting-rooms at ten-thirty that morning, she was waiting to speak to him.

'Come through, Roxy, ' he said, taking her arm and ushering her into the other room. 'Sit down. There's a chair beside you. '

She lowered herself on to the chair and waited until she heard his own chair creak on the opposite side of the desk before she spoke. 'What have you heard from your colleagues? '

'Nothing constructive as yet. '

'How do you feel about it personally? '

'Still the same, I'm afraid, ' he sighed. 'It's a risk I wouldn't advise at this point. '

'I want to take that risk, Basil. '

There was a startled, incredulous silence, then he said laughingly, 'You're joking, of course. '

'On the contrary, ' she told him quietly, 'I'm serious about it. '

'You must be out of your mind, Roxy! ' he exclaimed anxiously. 'Do you know what could happen to you if the operation fails? '

'Yes, ' she shrugged carelessly. 'I end up an imbecile who's better off dead. '

'Don't joke about it! ' he snapped, the rollers of his chair squealing across the floor as he rose to his feet with obvious agitation.

'I'm not joking, ' she assured him calmly. 'I'm asking you to perform the operation. '

'I refuse! ' he almost shouted at her.

'And I insist! '

There was a mutinous " silence, then Basil said tersely, 'You're forgetting something. I shall need your father's consent to do this operation, and he'll never give it. '

Roxy smiled faintly for the first time. 'My father has given his consent verbally, and he'll give it officially on paper when the time comes. '

'You must both be mad! ' Basil exploded, coming round to her side of the desk to grasp her hands. 'Roxy, for God's sake, it's your life you're trifling with so carelessly. '

'Do it for me, Basil, ' she insisted persuasively. 'If I'm willing to take the chance, then why can't you? '

'Can't you wait a little longer until ‑ '

'No! ' she interrupted with a sharp edge to her voice, then she controlled herself and added in a softer tone, 'I've reached the end, Basil. One way or another, it doesn't matter. '

'What's come over you? I've never known you like this, ' he said at length, drawing her up out of her chair and shaking her a little as if he wanted to shake some sense into her. 'You've always taken my advice in the past, so why won't you take it now? '

'Will you perform the operation, Basil, or do I get someone else to do it? ' she counter-questioned, clinging desperately to the patience she had always prided herself on possessing.

'Do you think I'd trust anyone else to lay a finger on you? ' he demanded roughly, his hands tightening on her shoulders.

'Then you will do it? '

There was a long silence, fraught with conflicting thoughts, and she knew he was finding it difficult to agree to an operation he did not have total confidence in, just as her father had found it difficult giving his consent.

'I'll do it, if that's what you really want, ' Basil sighed at last, but she could hear by the tone of his voice that he was not at all happy about it.

'How soon? '

'Next month? ' he said hopefully, but she shook her head.

'This week, ' she stated adamantly. 'Tomorrow, if possible. '

'My God! ' His hands shook, and he released her abruptly. 'I'll make the necessary arrangements and let you know when to come into the clinic. '

He had sounded, all at once, over-professional, but Roxy, who knew him better, realised that it was the shield behind which he so successfully hid his personal feelings. She knew that he loved her, that he had asked her not so long ago to marry him, and she knew what it could do to him if she was reduced to a helpless object kept alive by machinery until God mercifully took what was left of her.

Was she being selfish? she wondered as she murmured 'Thank you, ' and left his consulting-rooms. Was it selfishness to think only of herself and not of those who cared for her; " those who would have to stand by helplessly, watching her waste away day by day if the operation failed to restore her sight, but succeeded in giving her what she craved most at that moment—a sort of limbo state before death?

Questions whirled through her mind while Maggie drove her home; questions for which she found no answers, but she had gone steadily beyond the stage of caring, and there was only one road ahead which she cared to take. God only knew where it would lead, but to her it did not matter.

Roxy was admitted to the clinic the following afternoon, and preparations began in earnest for the operation which Basil was to perform two days later. There were X-rays and tests, and long, intricate discussions with the surgeons who were to assist, and there was her father, hovering by her side and refusing to leave. Roxy did not have the heart to send him away, and he spent that last night beside her bed, holding her hand even when the sedative they had given her had taken effect.

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