“Am I badly hurt?”
“Not too badly,” the nurse replied. “The scars on the legs will heal and your hair will grow again.”
Mona shut her eyes. Somehow it didn’t seem very important. She was glad that her face was untouched, she would have hated to be ugly, but for the rest, well, it didn’t matter. As long as Peterkin was all right. She heard the nurse move across the room and speak to someone in the doorway, then footsteps approached the bed.
‘If I keep my eyes closed,’ Mona thought, ‘they’ll think I am asleep.’
She felt tired, a great lassitude encompassed her, yet she was aware of someone standing there and without conscious effort her eyes opened.
Looking down at her was Michael. She was not surprised to see him, somehow it was inevitable. A sudden gladness made her feel as if life itself returned to her body. When she spoke, her voice was stronger.
“Hello, Michael.”
“Are you better, darling?” His voice was low.
“Much better. How did you get here?”
“Your mother and I have been waiting some days,” he replied. “We’ve been rather worried about you.”
“Have you? How silly!”
“Not really. You see, we love you.”
Mona felt a warmth encompass and enfold her. Everything was all right now that Michael was there. Vaguely and hazily, she remembered that in the past she had been lonely and afraid. But she had made reparation, yes, that is what she had done. Now, as if a golden dawn lay before her, she knew that the world held herself and Michael, united and together.
A happiness beyond anything she had ever known pervaded her whole being and she waited, saying nothing, savouring that moment of joy as though fearful if she spoke or moved it might evade her.
“Your mother will want to see you,” Michael said. “Shall I go and call her?”
“In a moment,” Mona replied. “There are things I want to ... ask you. First, how long shall I be here?”
“A week or so, then we will take you home.”
‘How lovely that word sounds when he says it,’ Mona thought.
“Was the house completely burned?” she asked irrelevantly.
“It’s quite uninhabitable.”
“What about the ... children?”
“They are being looked after. As a matter of fact, your mother and I had quite a tussle as to whether they should go to the Park, or the Priory. I won. I wanted to make quite certain that I should have you near me when you got well enough to go on working.”
Mona smiled. For a moment it almost seemed as if she would laugh, but the effort was too great.
“Oh Michael!” she said. “Do you always get your own way?”
He shook his head, but there was a sudden hope in his eyes and the vision came to her of him crawling towards that machine-gun post, determinedly, doggedly reaching his objective. The glory and gladness in her own heart seemed almost overpowering. She felt as if she could talk no longer but must give herself up to feeling it, to letting it drift over her in a wave of utter happiness.
Yet before she surrendered, she looked up at Michael.
“There’s one other ... question,” she whispered.
“What is it, darling?”
Her voice came very softly from between her lips so that he must bend forward to hear what she said.
“D-do you still want me?”
She saw an almost unbelievable gladness transform his face. Then he was on his knees beside her, his face very near hers.
“I love you, my darling, my foolish, wonderful little love. How could you risk your life when you belong to me?”
There was so much adoration in his voice she could only tremble with a sudden ecstasy that was beyond words.
“M-michael,” she managed to say brokenly. “Look after me. I’ve been such an idiot ... but I love you. I know now I love you with all my heart.”
“That’s all I want to hear,” he said softly. “You’re mine, my precious, and I’ll never let you go again.”
“N-never?” she questioned weakly.
She closed her eyes as it was all too wonderful to be borne.
“Never,” he answered, and she felt his lips touch hers.
He was very gentle, but a flame shot through her, a flame so vivid, so compelling, she knew it was the leaping flame of life.
“Oh Michael! Michael!” she murmured wonderingly. “This is love.”
