Come Running

by Anne Mather

  “Darrell? Darrell, is that you?”

  Darrell glanced over her shoulder at Matthew, and then said quickly: “Yes, of course. What do you want, Barry?”

  She sensed rather than saw Matthew’s instinctive stiffening, but for the moment there was nothing she could do about it.

  “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “No.” Darrell realised she must sound impatient. “I was up.”

  “Oh! Oh, well, I wanted to catch you before you left for the hospital. I expect you’re working today, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for her reply, but went on: “Anyway, the most amazing thing has happened. I’ve been left a house—in Harrogate.”

  “Left a house…” Darrell couldn’t take it in. “I—don’t understand…”

  “It was my aunt’s—my father’s sister, Aunt Beatrice. She died a few days ago. She was quite old—in her sixties, I believe. Anyway, she left me her house—in Harrogate.”

  Darrell endeavoured to grasp his meaning. “So?” She glanced round again at Matthew and saw to her dismay that he was on his feet now and putting on his jacket. “I mean—what does that have to do with me?”

  Barry sounded exasperated. “Darrell, Harrogate is only about fifteen or twenty miles from Sedgeley, isn’t it?”

  “Well?”

  “Well—I’ll be able to come and stay at the house at weekends, don’t you see? We’ll be able to see something of one another again.”

  “Oh, Barry!” Darrell sighed. “You wouldn’t like it up here.”

  “Why not?” He sounded hurt. “I see. You don’t want to see me, that’s it, isn’t it?”

  “Barry, we’ve been into all this…” Matthew was standing with his hands in his pockets, clearly just waiting for her to finish so that he could go. “Barry, I can’t talk right now. Could you—I mean, can I ring you back?”

  “All right. If you like.” Barry was abrupt.

  “Good. Until later, then.” Darrell put down the receiver and looked helplessly at Matthew. “That was—the friend Celine saw me with last weekend.”

  Matthew’s dark face was brooding. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “Don’t I?” Darrell twisted her hands together, aware that the tension was back between them. “You don’t want to know why he was ringing, then?”

  “No.” Matthew walked towards the door, shaking his head. But when he glanced back at her, she saw the torment in his face. “All right,” he conceded heavily, “why did he ring? I gather he’s coming to see you.”

  Darrell spread her hands. “Oh, Matt, his aunt has left him her house in Harrogate, that’s all.”

  “So he is coming to see you.” Matthew’s shoulders hunched. “I’d better get going—”

  “Matt, please!” she appealed. “Barry means nothing to me!”

  “Perhaps I should ask what you mean to him?”

  Darrell bent her head. “He—wants to marry me.”

  “I see.”

  “But I don’t want to marry him!” She looked up at him desperately. “Matt, I couldn’t marry him. It’s you I love…”

  Matthew half turned so that he was not looking at her. “I suppose he has no inconvenient complications in his life. No insurmountable problem to prevent the consummation of your relationship!” he said bitterly.

  “Relationship? What relationship? Barry and I don’t have a relationship!” Darrell took a step towards him and then halted. “Matt, Barry knows how I feel…”

  Matthew shook his head again. “Does he? But obviously he hasn’t given up hope.”

  “He—he doesn’t know that—that there’s anyone else.”

  Matthew turned to look at her then and his smile was scornful. But whether that scorn was directed towards her or himself, she could not be sure. “And of course, you couldn’t tell him that you were involved with a married man, could you?”

  “Was I? Involved—when I saw him?” Darrell’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “You’d walked out on me, Matt. I wasn’t to know that you would come back.”

  Matthew took a deep breath. “I’ve got to go,” he said, drawing his brows together in a frown.

  “Go? Go where?”

  “Back to London, I think. I don’t think I can face my mother and the rest of the family today. If anyone has recognised the car, I’ll find an explanation later.”

  “You can’t mean to drive back to London without a rest!”

  “What else would you suggest?”

  “I’ve told you. Stay here!”

  “Oh, no.” Matthew was adamant. He reached for the handle, but before turning it, he said: “And I should—think seriously about—refusing this—this Barry! Sooner or later, it’s bound to happen, like I said, and perhaps it would be better for both of us if it was sooner.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  During the following week, Darrell found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on her work. It was no longer the panacea it had been, and her thoughts continually drifted to Matthew, wondering where he was and what he was doing—and who he was with… To contemplate a lifetime of this emptiness filled her with despair, and she realised that Matthew was aware of this just as much as she. Was that why he had said that one day she would get married—to someone else? To escape from the loneliness?

  Once, in theatre, she was reproved by the surgeon for day dreaming while an operation was in progress, and the warning brought her to her senses. It was useless yearning for something so far out of reach, and selfish to make other people the innocent brunt of her misery.

  At the end of that day, Matron sent for her, and Darrell made her way to the senior nurse’s office with some misgivings. She guessed what was to come, and was scarcely prepared for it.

  “Sit down, Darrell,” directed Matron gently, after their initial greeting was over, her informality causing Darrell to relax a little. “I expect you’re tired.”

  Darrell smiled. “Not really, Matron.”

  “No?” Matron relaxed back in her chair and eyed the girl opposite her with shrewd, assessing thoroughness. “I thought perhaps you were.”

  Darrell sighed. “Because of the incident in theatre this morning.”

  It was a statement rather than a question and Matron frowned. “You admit—you were careless.”

  Darrell nodded, holding up her head. “Of course. In the normal way—that is—” She broke off awkwardly and Matron inclined her head.

  “Go on. You were saying… in the normal way…”

  Darrell flushed. “Well, I don’t know why I said that. I mean—this is the normal way, isn’t it? I—I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Don’t you? Don’t you indeed, Darrell? I find that hard to believe. When one of my best nurses suddenly starts behaving in a completely uncharacteristic way, there is almost always a reason for it.” She paused. “Now—what is it? Trouble at home?”

  “Oh, no, no!” Darrell stared at her wide-eyed. “I—there’s no trouble.”

  “Darrell, something is troubling you. And I’d like to help.” Matron pushed her blotter aside and rested her arms on her desk. “I realise Susan Lawford’s death must have meant a great deal to you. But I thought—we thought you had got over that. Last week—why, you worked marvellously. Perhaps a little too marvellously, hmm?”

  “Matron, I’m sorry for what happened in theatre this morning. I give you my word, it will never happen again.”

  Matron regarded her steadily. “You’re sure there’s nothing you want to talk about—nothing you want to tell me?”

  “No, Matron. Except that I’m sorry.”

  “I see.” Matron lay back in her chair again and folded her hands in her ample lap. “Well, I’m sorry, too. But for different reasons. I had thought you might feel you could confide in me. Still—never mind.” She hesitated. “You haven’t had your holidays yet, have you, Darrell?”

  “No, Matron.”

  “Have you got—anything arranged?”

  “Going away, you mean? Oh, no, not yet
. I thought I might spend part of the time with my mother.”

  “In Upminster. Yes, a good idea.” Matron picked up a pencil. “Had you any particular date planned?”

  “Why, yes—in September.”

  “Well, I’m going to recommend that you take your holidays immediately, Darrell. Whatever you say—whatever reasons you have for feeling as you do, I think a holiday would do you good—”

  “Oh, but—”

  “—and I do have the patients to consider.”

  Darrell’s cheeks flamed. “I wouldn’t let you down, Matron.”

  “I know, Darrell.” The older woman smiled. “I don’t want you to let yourself down either. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Is—is that final?”

  “It’s my recommendation,” replied Matron quietly.

  Darrell got to her feet. Short of going against Matron’s wishes there seemed little she could do. And besides, how could she be absolutely sure it would not happen again? Depression descended like a cloud upon her.

  “Is that all, Matron?” she managed tautly.

  Matron sighed. “Unless there’s anything more you’d like to add.” Darrell shook her head, and the other woman rose to her feet. “Very well.”

  Darrell moved towards the door, but before she reached it, Matron’s voice stopped her again. “And, Darrell—”

  “Yes?” Darrell turned expectantly.

  “I should use this time to work out your problems if you can. If not—then perhaps you ought to think seriously of a change of scene.”

  “A change of scene?”

  “I feel sure this has to do with Susan Lawford in some way. Whether it’s her death, or some other complication which has stemmed from it, I’m not sure. But, Darrell, we do care about you. Even if it sometimes seems that we always put the patients first.”

  Darrell managed to smile. “Thank you.”

  Matron shook her hand warmly. “Have a good holiday! Come back and see me again in two weeks from Monday.”

  Lesley Irving, one of her fellow nurses, expressed her sympathy when she came into the common room and found Darrell putting all her belongings into a shoulder bag.

  “I heard about—well, about old Mahendra’s warning. He had no need to report you to Matron!”

  “Didn’t he?” Darrell sighed. “Perhaps he did the right thing. You can’t afford to make mistakes in our job.”

  “No, but—” Lesley lifted her shoulders helplessly. “Last week you worked all the hours God sent! You’re probably tired, that’s all.”

  Darrell forced a smile. “So—I’m going to have a rest.”

  “But to have to take your holidays! I mean, you could have applied for sick leave!”

  Darrell fastened her bag. She had almost said that she was not sick. But she was—sick at heart.

  “Well, see you two weeks on Monday, then,” she said, with assumed lightness.

  “Yes, see you.”

  Lesley smiled, and Darrell went out of the room before the other girl’s sympathy could arouse the sympathetic self-pity inside her. She would not give in to that. Not here anyway.

  Walking home, she tried to look on the bright side. It was only Thursday evening. She had the rest of this week and two whole weeks to pull herself together. She might go to London. She might see Matthew. After all, he had said he wanted to see her again. It was a bitter-sweet acknowledgement of the power he had over her that whatever terms he wanted her on, she would still come running.

  Climbing the stairs at the flat, she had the absurd premonition that he might be waiting for her, but there had been no sign of his car outside. Nevertheless, there was always a chance, and when a man appeared at her door, her heart leapt into her throat.

  “Matt—” she burst out impulsively, and then gasped. “Barry!”

  “Hello, Darrell.” Barry’s lips had tightened a little at her greeting. “Were you expecting someone else?”

  “Yes—no—that is, what are you doing here?”

  Barry looked pointedly towards her door, and she fumbled for her key. As she opened the door, he said: “You said you’d ring me. When you didn’t, I decided to surprise you. I had to come up anyway, to see my aunt’s solicitors, and I thought I might be lucky enough to catch you off duty.”

  “Off duty?” Darrell stifled a gulp. “Why—yes. Oh, come in. I’m afraid it’s a bit untidy, I haven’t vacuumed for days.” It wasn’t only her hospital work that had suffered, she reflected dryly. She closed the door. “Won’t you sit down? If you’ll give me a minute to change, I’ll make some tea.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Barry caught her arm as she would have escaped him. “Darrell, what’s the matter with you? You look—different.”

  “I expect I’m tired. It’s been a pretty hectic week. And you haven’t seen me in my uniform for quite a while, have you?” Darrell tried to brush his concern aside. “Come on, let me go. I’m hot and sticky and I need a bath.”

  Barry let her go reluctantly, and Darrell walked tautly into the bedroom. He wasn’t like Matthew at all. Matthew would never have let her get away so easily.

  “Don’t be long,” he called, as she was closing her bedroom door. “I’m taking you out for dinner.”

  Darrell opened the door again and looked at him doubtfully. “Dinner? Oh, Barry, I don’t know…”

  Barry’s face clouded. “I’ve driven all this way just to see you. You’re not going to refuse me, are you?”

  Darrell drew a trembling breath. “No. No, of course not. I—I shan’t be long.”

  The water wasn’t too hot and the bath she took was tepid, but at least she felt refreshed after it and more ready to face getting dressed and going out for a meal. This was a complication she had not expected. Not having returned his call, she had foolishly assumed he would telephone again at some other time. She had never dreamed he might just appear.

  She wondered if he had identified the name she had uttered when she first saw him outside her door. Still, she consoled herself, he could not know of Matthew’s existence, and it was not such an uncommon name. All the same, she would have to be more careful in future.

  She wore a long dress of sprigged muslin, and draped a long white scarf about her shoulders. Barry’s eyes brightened appreciatively and he complimented her on the transformation. He was not to know that the brightness of her eyes and the colour in her cheeks owed more to artifice than to good health.

  “You’ll have to tell me where there’s a decent restaurant,” he said, as he escorted her down to his car. “I expect you know this area pretty well by now.”

  Darrell half smiled. Barry was not to know that she could count on one hand the number of times she had dined out in Sedgeley.

  “The Stag is supposed to be very good,” she replied, as he joined her in the car.

  “Supposed to be?” Barry glanced at her. “Don’t you know?”

  “The Lawfords held the funeral reception there,” said Darrell steadily. “That’s the only time I’ve ever been in the place.”

  Barry patted her knee. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be tactless.”

  Darrell stared deliberately through the windows. “I know you didn’t.”

  The meal at the Stag was as good as anything Darrell had tasted in Upminster, and she was not surprised when Barry expressed his reluctant approval.

  “We must come here again,” he asserted. “In fact, I half wished I’d booked in here instead of at the Crown in Harrogate.”

  “That would have been pointless, wouldn’t it?” suggested Darrell mildly. “I mean, your business is all in Harrogate, isn’t it? What use would it be staying in Sedgeley?”

  “I might see more of you,” retorted Barry at once. He captured her hand as it lay on the table. “Darrell, I heard what you said when you came up the stairs, you know. You thought I was someone else—someone with the name of Matthew.”

  Darrell tried to draw her hand away, but this time he wouldn’t let her. “Please, Barry,” she prot
ested. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Who is he, Darrell?” Barry persisted. “How long have you known him? You told me there was no one else.”

  “There wasn’t—there isn’t!” Darrell glanced round in embarrassment. “Barry, let go of my hand. People are looking.”

  “Let them look.” Barry was unconcerned. “Who is he, Darrell? I mean to know.”

  “If I tell you, will you let me go?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, then.” Barry released her hand, and she twisted both hands together in her lap. Then she sighed. “If you must know, he’s Susan’s brother.”

  “Susan? Oh, you mean—yes, I know who you mean. Her brother?”

  “Yes.”

  “And why might you expect to find Matthew Lawford on your doorstep?”

  His use of Matthew’s full name was disconcerting. “He—we’re friends. I just thought you were him.”

  Barry looked sceptical. “Really? But Matthew Lawford’s a married man. Does his wife know you’re a friend of her husband’s?”

  “Don’t be horrible, Barry!”

  “Is that horrible? Why should it be? It’s an innocent enough question.”

  “How—how do you know he’s married?”

  “I’ve met him. And his wife. He’s quite a well known man in the City. I’d heard he came from the north of England. I didn’t connect him with Sedgeley until just now.”

  Darrell rested her elbows on the table and cupped her chin on her hands. So already her slip had had repercussions. Forcing herself to speak casually, she said: “Small world, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” Barry swallowed the remainder of the wine in his glass, surveying her over the rim. “Well, at least I know the competition.”

  Darrell’s eyes widened in dismay. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t look so innocent, Darrell.” Barry was resigned. “Friendship between a girl like you and a man like Matthew Lawford just isn’t on.”