’I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
‘There are times when being sorry isn’t enough—and this is one of them. You knew I loved you and you used me!’ He slammed out of the bedroom.
There was little of the lover about him when Helen followed him into the lounge. He paused at the door. ‘If there are any repercussions from tonight I trust you’ll let me know,’ he said coldly.
Helen looked at him with startled eyes. ‘Repercussions?’
‘You aren’t that naïve. You could become pregnant, it often happens after what we’ve just done,’ he taunted.
‘A baby,’ she nodded, knowing it wasn’t even a possibillity. ‘I’ll let you know.’
‘Make sure you do. You may not want the child, but I would.’
* * *
Just living after that was an agony Helen couldn’t describe. With each passing day she became thinner, so that after six weeks she looked terrible.
‘Go to the doctor,’ Jenny encouraged worriedly.
‘What could he do?’ Helen asked moodily. ‘He can’t cure the sickness I have—no one can.’ Jenny had found her huddled in an armchair the day Leon had finally left her, and she had sobbed out the whole sorry story.
‘Except yourself. Leon’s dropped out of the social scene altogether, no one’s seen him for weeks. And although a doctor may not be able cure you he may be able to give you something to help you sleep and maybe something to get you to eat.’
‘I don’t need anything,’ Helen said tersely. ‘I feel fine.’
‘You look it!’ Jenny scorned.
‘Thanks!’
‘Well, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? You’re too thin, much too thin, and there are dark circles under your eyes where you aren’t sleeping. God, you’re just pining away for the man!’ Jenny finished in disgust.
‘I’m just tired,’ Helen said wearily. ‘So very tired. I don’t seem to have any energy.’
‘I’m not surprised! Do it for me, Helen. Go and see a doctor before you’re really ill.’
In the end Helen agreed to go just to placate her cousin, although she was sure the doctor could do little for her. The poor man looked as weary as she felt, probably through overwork, although he listened patiently to her symptoms—if they could be called that.
Helen had expected him to give her a prescription and dismiss her from his mind as well as his surgery, and his decision to give her a thorough examination came as something of a surprise to her.
What he had to tell her at the end of that examination shocked her so much she had to sit down. She left the surgery in a daze, wandering aimlessly around one of the parks, never quite conscious of her surroundings.
How she came to be outside Leon’s apartment block she had no idea, but suddenly she found herself there, staring at the building in shocked surprise. Being this close to him gave her an ache deep inside her body, an ache to be near him, to just see him.
‘Good evening, Mrs West.’
She turned to see Max. Of course, Thursda
y was his evening off. ‘Hello,’ she said shyly. ‘How are you?’
‘Very well, thank you, madam. And you?’
Helen felt sure he could see exactly how well she was—or wasn’t. ‘I’m well, too,’ she lied. ‘And Mr Masters, how is he?’
‘Not too good, I’m afraid.’
‘He isn’t well?’ she asked sharply.
‘He isn’t ill. He’s at home now, Mrs West. Why don’t you go up and see him? I’m sure he would like to see you.’