A Sister's War by Molly Green (best books to read for self improvement TXT) 📗

kitchen. Incredible! She was obviously taking her nursing duties seriously. Ronnie couldn’t help a wry smile. As far back as she could remember, Maman rarely appeared before ten most mornings, having taken ages to complete her toilette, as she always called it. Ronnie had to admit, she was enjoying this softer side of her mother.

The doorbell rang. Rusty pricked up his ears.

‘No, it’s not the postman, Rusty. He comes much earlier. It’ll be the district nurse. So don’t start barking at her. Not everyone loves you, even though I know that’s difficult for you to imagine.’

She heard her mother go to the door. There was a murmuring of voices.

‘Do come in,’ Maman’s voice sailed upstairs. ‘Véronique was asleep when I looked in an hour ago. I was about to bring her a cup of tea.’ There was a pause. ‘Oh, how kind. I will not be a moment.’

I must look a sight, Ronnie thought, as she sat up, endeavouring to pull a pillow behind her back. It really was a nuisance having only one working hand. It made her feel as though she was an invalid. Well, as soon as the nurse had gone, she’d get up and have a bath. Her hair was badly in need of a wash but Maman would help her with that. The thought cheered her.

There was a light tap at the bedroom door. Rusty barked.

‘Stop that, Rusty, or I’ll put you out.’ She looked towards the door.

‘Come in,’ she called.

The door opened.

‘Hello, Ronnie,’ Michael said casually, as though they’d seen one another yesterday instead of nearly four months ago. ‘Your mother sent this up for you.’ He put a cup of tea on her bedside table.

She was speechless. Unaware, she put her hand to her chest to still her beating heart. Was she dreaming?

Rusty came over, wagging his tail, to give Michael a good sniff.

‘Hello, boy,’ he said, bending and fondling the dog’s ears. ‘I think you must be Rusty. Your mistress has told me about you.’

Rusty gave another ‘woof’ as though to say he approved of this new friend, then looked up at Ronnie, his liquid brown eyes imploring, and barked.

‘He wants his breakfast,’ she said, thankful she’d finally found her tongue and it was something neutral to say. ‘Go on downstairs, Rusty. Maman knows what to give you.’

As though he understood, Rusty trotted from the room.

Michael stared at her and frowned.

Ronnie’s good hand flew to her face, desperate for him not to see her looking so unkempt. Her eyes were still stinging and she knew they must look like a vampire’s, she hadn’t brushed her hair and she hadn’t cleaned her teeth. How had he found her? Why hadn’t Maman brought the tea herself and warned her he was here? Oh, this was dreadful.

‘Ronnie,’ Michael said, gently taking her hand away, ‘you don’t have to cover your lovely face for me. I was looking at your eyes. I thought at first you’d been crying but it looks to me like an eye irritation.’

‘It was,’ she said, ‘from the muck caused by the explosion. But they’re not as red as they were.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He kept hold of her hand. ‘I know you’ve been through a terrible time and you’ve only just come out of hospital. I don’t expect you to look like you’ve just stepped from the pages of Vogue … especially as you didn’t know I was going to be such an early visitor.’ His eyes twinkled.

‘As though I ever did look like a model from Vogue or any other magazine,’ she said with a weak smile, her mind in turmoil.

‘You did at the dance.’

‘Except when you saw my Wellington boots.’

‘I just thought you were setting a new fashion trend.’ He winked. ‘Can I pull that chair up?’ He gestured towards it.

She nodded. How could she begin to say what was in her heart? She’d have to take her lead from him. And he was simply being friendly, not acting at all as if he loved her. Jess was wrong. But even if he thought of her as a friend, that was something. Once her hand was healed she’d prove she could be more. Inwardly, she gave a wry smile. Go through a transformation and look glamorous? It might work for Raine or Suzy, but not for her. Try to be clever? Witty? Again, they weren’t her usual attributes. She was more known for being blunt, standing up for what she believed, whatever the cost, and helping any person or animal in trouble. She didn’t think any of those attributes would make a man change from friendship to love. Well, she could at least tidy herself. That would be a start.

She was conscious of her hand enclosed in his.

‘Such a small hand,’ he said, studying it. ‘But strong.’

He leaned over and she smelt the masculine scent of him, sending an unfamiliar rush of longing through her body. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, making her forehead tingle from his touch.

‘Tell me exactly what happened to your injured hand.’

She managed to pull herself together, trying to forget how near he was, as she told him, not sparing any of the gory details.

‘Poor Ronnie,’ he said quietly. ‘But thank heavens it wasn’t a direct hit on the boats. You and Jessica and the other girl—’

‘Sally.’

‘Yes, Sally – well, none of you would have stood a chance.’

‘Lucky didn’t.’ A tear trickled down Ronnie’s cheek. ‘Jess said she was curled up on the deck. I didn’t even see her when Sally took me to the ambulance, my eyes were stinging so much and I was in a daze.’

‘That would be shock.’

‘I suppose so. But I can’t forgive myself for letting Margaret down, even though I know it wasn’t my fault about the bomb. But I can’t help thinking she lost her life over saving Lucky. I wish we’d never given her such a stupid name, but it seemed right at the time.’

She started to cry. Michael handed her a handkerchief.

‘Try