He was right, and she was glad to lie down again. But it was strange that he sounded almost curt, as though he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough.
When she awoke the light had changed, becoming duller. She sat up, listening to the silence of the house, and feeling suddenly fearful.
Not to worry, she thought, getting out of bed. She would find Drago and all would be well. But as she moved through room after room a nameless dread began to take hold of her. He was nowhere to be found.
Keep calm, she told herself. He must be somewhere.
But every door she opened only revealed more emptiness, and the dread began to envelop her. Looking out of the window, she saw the mountains rearing up, covered in snow, a white hell into which he had disappeared.
The car; he might have taken it.
But when she descended to the garage the car was still there. Drago hadn’t merely gone away. He’d vanished into thin air.
She stood, nonplussed, wondering what was going to happen now. She was alone, abandoned in a strange country, trapped by the snow, and she didn’t feel up to doing anything except going back to bed. She ought to be strong-minded, but how would that help?
Drago’s shout, coming out of nowhere, made her jump and turn to see him coming in through the garage door, enveloping her in an icy blast.
‘What the devil are you doing out here, dressed like that?’ he yelled. ‘Get back inside.’
‘I just-’
‘Go in before you catch pneumonia.’
He took hold of her arm, hustling her inside and up the stairs, muttering furiously.
‘Why do I bother looking after you if you have no common sense?’
‘You vanished. It worried me.’
‘I went to get you some more cough mixture. I thought we had another bottle, but I was wrong, so I went down to the village. I had to walk because the car wouldn’t be safe in these conditions.’
‘You walked all the way down there and back in the snow?’
‘Yes, and for what? For a dimwit who hasn’t the sense to keep warm when she’s sick. If you die of pneumonia, I’ll really lose patience with you.’
She gave a husky laugh, which brought on another fit of coughing.
‘I’ve got you some pills as well. Have a couple now, and some cough mixture, then go back to bed while I get the place warmer and fix you something to eat. And stand away from me. I don’t want your germs.’
She eyed him satirically. ‘And they say chivalry is dead.’
‘This isn’t chivalry, it’s self-protection. Just do as I say.’
She took the medicine and went thankfully back to her room. But before getting into bed she looked out of the window at the mountains, which were already becoming shadowy as the early-winter dusk began to fall. Down below she saw a door open, and Drago appear, heading for the woodshed. He emerged with his arms full of logs, which he carried into the house. A few moments later he made another journey to fetch charcoal.
Then sounds came from along the corridor, telling her that he was refilling the range, causing the house to grow warmer at once, or so it seemed to her.
But the consoling warmth had little to do with the heating. Drago had returned, and the demons that had haunted her for the last year were in retreat. Comforted, she climbed into bed and snuggled beneath the covers.
He brought her some soup, and a cup of coffee, both of which he set down at a careful distance.
‘Eat that even if you aren’t hungry,’ he said brusquely. ‘I don’t want you starving to death either. You’d do it just to be awkward.’
‘Then why don’t you just throw me out of the window and get it over with?’ she demanded huskily. ‘Think of the trouble you’d save.’
He appeared to consider this before saying, ‘Too difficult to explain away the body. It suits me better if you stay alive.’
‘Gosh, thanks!’
He gave her a ribald grin before vanishing.
The grin faded as soon as he was out of her sight. He’d been on edge since he’d awoken that morning, to find himself lying with his arm over her. It wasn’t what he’d meant to happen. He’d stayed with her the night before out of concern and a desire to be on hand if she needed him. When sleep had overcome him he’d lain down beside her, careful to stay outside the bedclothes, not touching her.
He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d put his arm over her, but he must have done so, because he’d been holding her when he awoke. At all costs she mustn’t find out. In their special circumstances it was a betrayal of trust. He could only be thankful that he’d awoken first, and had escaped without discovery.
Even so, he’d been on edge when she’d got up, waiting to detect any hint of suspicion in her manner, but there’d been nothing. She’d merely looked bedraggled and vulnerable, a different woman from the austere female he’d met only three days ago. But that had only increased his feeling of guilt, and he’d taken refuge in a surly manner.
It was almost a relief to discover that the medicine had run out, so that he’d had to take a long walk down to the village through the snow. He’d looked in to tell her he was going but, finding her asleep, had slipped quietly away.
He’d hoped the walk would clear his head, but his confusions merely settled into a different pattern. The discovery that his wife had been pregnant by her lover had shattered him, but he’d been prepared for new pain. What he hadn’t anticipated was Alysa’s agony.
If asked to describe himself he would have refused, then done it unwillingly: a straightforward man who loved his family, but without frills or fine words. That was him. Empathy was something for others, those with time to waste.
But Alysa’s suffering had torn through him, so that he felt it with her. It was a new sensation, and if he was honest he didn’t like it. From now on he would simply help her recover, pray for the snow to melt, and bid her goodbye with relief. Above all he’d decided he would behave with circumspection, and speak to her with the greatest care.
But that was before he’d arrived home to find her in the freezing garage, and his explosion of temper had banished good resolutions to the far ends of the earth. Having seen her safely in bed, he stormed into the kitchen and got to work in a fury. As he prepared the meal they would eat that evening, he lashed his anger to keep it alive, because that way he might avoid the thoughts and feelings lying in wait for him.
He scowled when she finally emerged into the kitchen, still in his robe.
‘Are you sure you’re ready to get up?’ he growled.
‘Yes, I feel better now. Those pills you got me are good.’
‘Go and sit by the fire while I finish making supper.’
‘Can’t I-?’
‘Do as you’re told.’
‘Yes,
Her office colleagues would laugh if they could see her now, she thought, curling up on the rug by the fire and tossing on some more wood. She was famed for her cool head and ability to organise. But right now it was nice to be waited on.
Supper was steak and red wine, which he brought to her by the fire, and they picnicked like children. It was the best steak she’d ever tasted.
‘I feel guilty that you had to go out for me,’ she said.
‘I’m the one who feels guilty, trapping you up here without even a change of clothes.’
‘Look,’ she said awkwardly. ‘About what I did to Carlotta’s things…’
‘Did you really do all that?’ he asked, fascinated.
‘Every last slash.’
‘Did it make you feel any better?’
‘Much,’ she said, with such feeling that he grinned. ‘I’m sorry, Drago, I know you must have treasured
