Love's Agony by Violet Winspear

Author:Violet Winspear [Winspear, Violet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1981-02-07T13:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

Angie's days began early because it was customary for her to rise with the sun. She would shower, put on her deep-blue uniform, pin on her cap, slide her feet into her low-heeled shoes, and then go quietly into Rique's room to see if he was still sleeping.

Some mornings he lay there very still among his tangled coverings, a sign that he had slept restlessly before going in to a deep slumber. Sometimes he lay there awake, smoking one of his dark cigarillos. The fact that he had taught himself to be so adept at lighting the cigarillo was an indication he seemed unaware of, that his touch perception was very good.

It certainly gave Angie a line of hope to cling to, but for the time being she put only light pressure on him, insisting that each day he do his Brailling of the house he had been born in. His blindness meant that he had to learn to use his other senses until they were so finely tuned that he would never find himself lost in the house and would be able to navigate its stairs and corridors with confidence, judging by touch, smell and instinct exactly where he was.

It pleased her that he had become interested in the game, as he called it, and already he had mastered the ground-floor rooms. The family and staff had grown used to seeing the pair of them patrolling the house, with Rique walking a hand-touch behind her, using his own hands to memorise projections, objects, carvings and corners until he could finally fool a stranger that he could actually see where he was going.

Now and again there were setbacks for Angie to contend with; still he was liable to fall into black, despairing silences, and then he would start drinking and would be bitterly sarcastic if she told him he was doing himself more harm than good.

'Take yourself to hell. Angel, and don't bore me with your pious preaching,' he would say, not shouting but saying the words in a voice of brutal insolence far more hurtful than anger would have been. She tried to keep bottles of drink out of his reach, but somehow he always managed to get hold of one and she suspected that Ysabel supplied him with the Spanish brandy he liked; his fire-water, as he called it.

Angie thought of going to Don Carlos with her suspicion, but she wasn't by nature a sneak, nor did she want Rique's father to think she couldn't cope with the situation. She could only hope that Rique would ease off the brandy as he began to realise that he was making headway and learning how to combat the terrors and frustrations of his dark world.

This particular morning Angie switched on her radio, keeping the music soft as she prepared for the day ahead of her. Doris Day was singing in her inimitable style I'll never stop loving you ... and the song induced in Angie a sense of poignancy. My love for you will live till time itself is through.

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