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Wendy knocked on Tim's bedroom door and walked in. He was sitting on his bed in his underpants looking thoroughly uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, Wendy," he said. "I had such trouble with my trousers that I decided against pyjamas."
She smiled brightly. "Don't worry, Mr Richards. I'm not."
She collected the ointment from his bathroom and hopped up onto the bed on his left. She ran a warm, soft hand over his shoulder.
"Where does it start hurting?" She pressed a little harder.
"Ow!"
She probed gently for half a minute and mapped the 'ows'.
"Along the top of your shoulder blade and the very top of your arm," she said. "I'll be gentler now."
She was and Tim felt a warm glow where she had rubbed the ointment in.
"Now your knee," she said kneeling on the floor. "I'm going to give that a bit of a prod too." She grinned. "Big brave boy!"
If anything Tim's knee was sorer than his shoulder. Wendy decided that she had to apply the ointment all round the kneecap and an inch or so above the knee. Once again she was gentle but persisted until the ointment was fully worked in.
"There!" she said. "All done."
"Thank you, Wendy. You were a lot gentler than the nurse this morning."
"Ah but I only have one patient not umpteen to get through."
"I think you'd still be gentler."
She smiled warmly and touched his cheek. "Hope so. Goodnight, Mr Richards. I'll take the ointment with me and do you at the kitchen table when you come down for breakfast."
"Goodnight, Wendy, and thanks. Sleep well."
She slipped out of the room. Tim lay down and put out his bedside light. He stayed like that for a few minutes thinking how sweet and gentle Wendy had been and how fortunate he was to have found her.
"Jane darling," he thought. "I need to talk to you about her. Betty says she's fallen in love with me and I think I heard her call me darling after the accident."
"You did, Tim darling."
"What do I do about her? Do I respond? Do I just leave her to become so frustrated that she leaves? I can't chuck her out. She's nowhere to go."
"What do you feel about her?"
"Very, very fond of her but, darling, I can't be unfaithful to you."
"Tim, my precious, you will never be unfaithful to me. If you were to marry again, such has been your love for me that you will always keep me in your heart. You will never lose me. You cannot be unfaithful to me but, while you live, you deserve to have the love of a live woman and to give her the love I know you to be capable of."
Tim howled. It was a mixture of bitter anguish and yet of release. He rolled to his right and buried his face in his pillow. His body shook silently.
Wendy's door was open and she heard him. She was beside him in a flash.
"Tim darling, what's the matter? Why are you crying? Is there anything I can do?"
Tim shook his head. Wendy stroked the back of it.
"Please let me help," she pleaded.
Tim shook his head again. She said nothing but continued to stroke him as he continued to shake. At last he quieted and slept. Wendy stayed a few more minutes to make sure he really was asleep before tip-toeing back to her own bed.
It took her a long time to drop off as she was still concerned for him. Indeed, she woke worried in the morning but went downstairs to prepare breakfast as usual. She hoped he would confide in her. She was pretty sure he would. He would realise she had been upset and he was not the sort of man to just shrug it off.
He appeared ten minutes later. She turned to greet him.
"Good morning, Mr Richards. Did you sleep all right in the end?"
He stopped in front of her, leant his crutches against the kitchen table and took her head in his hands.
"I'm sorry I behaved so selfishly last night," he said.
She smiled at him, euphoric at this show of affection. "Are you better now?"
He nodded. "Much and thank you, Wendy dear, for being there for me."
He bent forward and very gently kissed her lips. Her arms slid round his waist.
"That's what I'm here for," she whispered.
"It's not. What you do for me is way beyond what you're here for and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
Wendy could not help herself. She gave a squeak of happiness, tightened her arms round him and laid her head against his chest. His arms went round her and he held her gently. Neither said a word. At length she pushed herself away and smiled radiantly up at him.
"Stay there while I turn the fried bread," she ordered.
Having done that she poured him a glass of orange juice, sat him down and went back to her cooking. Very soon she placed his breakfast in front of him and sat down opposite him with hers. There was silence while they ate. Wendy cleared the plates and poured coffee for them both.
"Now then, Mr Richards, are you going to tell me what upset you so much last night. I hope it wasn't anything I did."
Tim shook his head. "No, Wendy, nothing. You were sweet, gentle, kind and loving. Now, before we go any further, I think it's time, if you're happy, for you to start calling me Tim instead of Mr Richards."
Wendy did not smile. Her eyes welled. "Thank you ... Tim," she almost whispered. "That means a lot to me."
Tim did smile, warmly and happily. She could not help but respond. She did manage to restrain herself from running round the table to hug him.
"Now," Tim went on, "ever since she died I've had sort of mental conversations with Jane." He smiled. "I had one with her before I arranged to meet you. Anyway, Betty told me yesterday about her list of 'suitoresses'."
Wendy blushed and Tim laughed. She stuck the tip of her tongue out at him and he laughed even more. She joined in.
"Anyway, I asked Jane what she thought of it and what I ought to do. She told me to behave as I saw fit but not to get all buttoned up because of her. She said that such had been our love that I would never be being unfaithful to her if I married again because I would always keep her in my heart. That was being like hit with two different sledgehammers, one that hammered home that she really was dead and the other hammering it into my thick skull that I was a free agent again. So I got a double dose of huge emotions and couldn't contain them. I'm sorry to have made such a spectacle of myself."
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