Lucy Gordon - Taming Jason

‘And what did Mr Tenby say to that?’

‘He said, “Hilda, Tenby Manor would go to pieces without you.” And there was a man in here, taking measurements, the very next day.’

Elinor was surprised. Even discounting the story’s more colourful details, the bottom line was that Jason Tenby had listened to Hilda. But of course, by modernising, he’d improved the value of the house.

The outer door, which had been slightly ajar, was pushed open and a muddy black spaniel scampered into the room.

‘Bob, you rascal,’ Hilda called, ‘where have you been hiding?’ She offered a titbit, which the spaniel pounced on. ‘He’s Jason’s. Nobody’s got much time for him now, poor little thing, so he spends his life wandering around the grounds.’

‘Mr Tenby’s? He didn’t—’ Elinor checked herself on the verge of saying that Jason hadn’t had a dog when she was last here, and substituted, ‘He didn’t seem the kind of man to keep a pet.’

‘He’s more than just a pet. He wins prizes at all the dog shows. Pedigree as long as your arm. Not that he looks it now, because he’s covered in mud. But he’s actually Lord Robertson Winstanley Mooreswell of Hatley Place,’ Hilda pronounced triumphantly, adding as an afterthought, ‘The eighth.’

I can believe that, Elinor thought. Even this man’s dog has a pedigree.

Bob bounded towards her.

‘Stay away from me!’ she said sharply. Then she coloured and added, ‘His paws—’

‘Yes, you don’t want them on your nice clean uniform,’ Hilda said.

Elinor agreed, but not without a touch of shame. For a moment her hostility to all things Tenby had extended to the innocent animal who’d been welcomed because he had the pedigree she herself had lacked.

To cover the moment she began to ask about the house. ‘It’s a big place to manage on your own.’

‘I’m not exactly on my own. I clean Jason’s room because he doesn’t like strangers in there, but, for the rest, a couple of cleaning women come in from the village. My Alf does odd jobs and looks after the kitchen garden.’

She concentrated on the supper she was preparing, and told Elinor that it would be ready in an hour.

‘Meat and two veg, with plenty of gravy,’ she announced with pride. ‘I do it for him every day. And a good solid pudding for afters. If only he did more than pick at it! Never mind. I’ll build him up.’

Elinor forbore to comment that Hilda wouldn’t build Jason up by cooking meals that obviously didn’t tempt him. The time wasn’t right.

From outside she could hear someone coming down the stairs, leaving the house and driving away.

‘That’ll be the factory manager,’ Hilda said. ‘He’s been getting his orders.’

‘You mean he’s been up with Mr Tenby?’ Elinor asked, startled.

‘He comes here twice a week. Dr Harper—that’s Jason’s GP—tried to stop him, but Jason got into such a fury he had to back down.’

‘I think I’d better have a word with Mr Tenby.’

She found Jason lying still and silent. It was hard to tell if he was awake or not.

‘What are you staring at me for?’ he demanded irritably.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think I was.’

‘I knew you were. Don’t you realise that’s one of the worst things? People who stare at you, thinking you won’t know. People who think being blind is the same as being stupid.’

‘Mr Tenby, I don’t want you to think of yourself as blind—’

‘Sure! Fine!’ he snapped. ‘I’m not blind, it’s just that I can’t see anything.’

‘For the moment. It may not be permanent, and it’s better if you don’t get into a “blind” state of mind.’

He gave a snort. ‘You nurses should get your act together. The last one told me exactly the opposite; never stopped twittering on about adjusting to reality.’

‘Adjusting to reality before you’re certain that it is reality is just giving in,’ Elinor said calmly.

There was a silence.

‘So you can talk sense about something,’ Jason grunted.

‘You’d be amazed at the things I can talk sense about,’ Elinor told him crisply.

‘Good. You can stay here for the moment. But there’s one thing.’

‘Yes?’

Without warning he reached up and gripped her arms in both hands.

‘Mr Tenby—’

‘Keep still,’ he rasped.

One hand still held her while the other slid its way up her arm to the throat of her uniform. Then he released her.

‘Get out of that damned uniform and wear something civilised,’ he ordered. ‘You make me ill just standing there in it.’

‘Very well, sir.’

“‘Very well, sir,”’ he echoed. ‘Such a cool, calm, collected voice. Such a neutral voice. God, I wish I could see your face this minute.’

‘It’s a neutral face too,’ she assured him. ‘Just treat me as a piece of machinery.’

‘There’s machinery in my factory. It smells of axle grease, not wild flowers, as you do.’

Elinor was startled. She wore no perfume and used unscented soap. What had he detected that was hidden from the rest of the world?

‘I came up because I’m not happy about you having too many people in here just now,’ she said quickly. ‘You still need a lot of rest and I think we should—’

‘No, I think you should listen while I make a few things plain,’ he interrupted her. ‘I’ve been ill as long as I can afford to be. There’s work to be done and nobody I can trust to do it. So if I want to talk to my manager or my bailiff I’ll do so. I hope that’s clearly understood.’

‘Perfectly. If you think you’re sufficiently on top of your work to give orders about it, I have nothing to say.’

‘Don’t try to get clever with me!’ he snapped. ‘You’re my nurse, not my keeper. I will not be molly coddled.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it.’

‘So why does Hilda tell me you’ve moved in across the corridor? If that’s not molly coddling me, what is?’

‘That’s a matter for my professional judgement. While you’re still in a bad condition I prefer to be near you at night.’

‘The hell with that! You move right out of that room and back into the other one. Do you hear?’

‘I hear. But I’m staying put.’

‘Then I’ll tell Hilda to move your stuff.’

‘You’ll do no such thing. Hilda has enough to do without becoming pig-in-the-middle between us. You want a fight? Fine! We’ll fight. But leave Hilda out of it.’

He ground his teeth. ‘I think fate must have it in for me! It’s not enough that I’m laid out here, useless to myself and everyone else. I have to be cursed with a harpy who marches in here giving orders like some prison commandant. I’m still the master here, in case you didn’t realise it.’

‘I should think the whole world realises it if you shout like that,’ Elinor observed mildly.

‘I shout because it’s the only way I can get myself listened to. You’ll do what I say, when I say, and that’s final. Now clear out of here before I start getting angry.’

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