Just a short one tonight, I'm afraid. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it
..
A few days later, Joe showed up at the hospital carrying a box of PX treats. He found Sam sitting quietly on a bench in the gardens behind the building, glad to finally be outside again. She smiled at him and stood to greet him. Taking his proffered arm, she strolled with him around the gardens.
"So, Sam, have you decided yet?" Joe asked, walking casually by her side. Sam stopped, drawing a deep breath.
"Yes. I have. I'm sorry, Joe. I can't marry you."
Joe turned to her with a pained stare.
"What? You're saying 'no'?"
"I'm afraid so."
"But… I mean… I love you!"
"I'm sorry."
"Is there someone else?"
"Joe…"
"Well is there?"
"No. There's no one else. Just a… call it wishful thinking, if you like."
"So you're in love with someone?"
"Joe, I…"
"Who is it, Sam?" He looked at her intently, his eyes pleading with her to be honest with him. Sam sighed, annoyed with him for demanding answers, but feeling sorry for him at the same time.
"It's someone I've been working with, but please don't ask me more than that," she finally said.
For a few moments Joe just stared at her, his thoughts whirling. Then the pieces all clicked into place. He flung out both hands, palms upwards in exasperation.
"Mr Foyle?! Jeez, Sam! He's an ancient monument! …Jeez!"
"Joe!"
"Are you kidding me? I can't figure out you Limey dames. This obsession with old ruins."
"That's a horrible thing to say!"
"Well, what did you figure I'd say, Sam? The guy's my old man's age!"
"For heaven's sake, Joe. You asked me to be honest. I just… I don't love you enough to marry you. Even if I weren't in love with… someone else… it still would never work out between us. While I've been ill, I've had plenty of time to think, and I've sort of… come to my senses about a lot of things. I haven't been stringing you along Joe, it's just that...I didn't recognise how I felt about… didn't realise who was most important to me."
"And that's not me."
"Sorry, Joe."
"You know what, Sam? It's fine. I should've known better than to get involved with one of you English girls," he said, his tone clipped.
He turned on his heel and walked abruptly away from her. After only a few paces he turned back, avoiding her eyes and adding miserably, "I hope you know what you're doing."
Sam bit her lip as she watched him march away from her, his stride measured, but the slump of his shoulders clearly showing his sadness. She sank down on a nearby bench, resting her head in her hands. Joe was obviously hurt, but she couldn't in good conscience lead him on. Still, his parting comment had hit home: she wasn't at all sure she knew what she was doing.
"Miss Stewart?"
Sam looked up. The nurse who had come to find her smiled. "You're being discharged. And your Mr Foyle is here to pick you up."
With a sigh, Sam stood. She looked around the gardens for a moment, a little helplessly, then turned to follow the nurse back inside. In the foyer, she caught sight of a 'MAKE DO AND MEND' poster that someone had tacked to the wall – it certainly wasn't the first of its kind Sam had seen, but suddenly its message seemed to resonate with her. Right, she thought. This is all right. It's not ideal, but I can make do, and things will mend in time. At least I can spend time with him. I'm content with that, even if he won't ever love me as I love him…
Sam stepped from the coolness of the hospital into the warm August sun, smiling at the small group of people gathered at the foot of the stairs: Brookie, cap tucked under one arm; Milner, standing taller than his companions, wearing an enigmatic half-smile on his face; and finally Mr Foyle, furthest to the right, his mouth curving downward and his eyes crinkling in a genuine smile.
"What a treat to see you looking healthy again, Miss Stewart," chirped Brookie happily, reaching out to shake her hand and shyly kiss her cheek.
"Thank you, Brookie. I'm so relieved to be out," Sam said with a smile, before turning to her closest colleagues. She collected another kiss on the cheek from Milner, as well as a reassuring squeeze of the hand. Turning to her boss, she wondered headily if he would follow his companions' example and kiss her. He didn't. Instead he doffed his hat to her, opened the rear passenger door, and asked, "You ready?"
Sam nodded, resolutely quelling a ripple of disappointment. "Absolutely, sir."
…
TBC