The Thursday clinic

by Anne Lorraine

  CHAPTER NINE

  SALLY HESITATBD outside the lounge door, then knocked boldly. She heard their voices, low now and confidential, then Joan called to her to come into the room. She went in, and saw them sitting together on the divan, all traces of their recent quarrel past. For a moment she was taken aback by this unexpected transformation, then, remembering her intention, she said quietly, addressing them both. "I have dedded there is no longer any need for me to stay." She tried to keep her voice even. "After all, it is obvious that Mrs. Chesfield is much better " She saw Joan's face light up with amusement. "Don't tell me diat somebody is going to agree with me at last!" she cried happily. "But this is miraculous! In another moment from now Larry is going to tell you that I am far from well, that I positively must keep you on, my ,dear Sister!" To Sally's surprise and rather to her annoyance, Larry merely smiled at his wife's words. "To the contrary, my dear," he said mildly, "I quite agree that we should not take up Sister's valuable time any longer than is absolutely necessary. I am not altogether satisfied, mind you there is still that breathlessness, and your sudden tiredness " Joan leaned back, stretching her arms lazily above her head. "Darling I was born tired," she said jocularly, "you know that. Even when I was a little girl I had a 'heart' isn't that the way old women describe it? But I'm as well as I'm likely to be, so why hold Sister here against her will?" 158 "Against her will?" Larry's tone was suddenly filled with annoyance. "Since when was Sister here against her will? I had no idea she was not happy with us " Sally colored hotly, desperately afraid of beginning another of their monotonous arguments. She took a step forward, her small face filled with anxiety. "Of course I'm happy," she lied eagerly, s."but if there is no real cause .for me to stay, I feel rather guilty, about the Clinic, Mr. Chesfield. After all, that is of paramount importance " She stopped short, taken aback by Joan's sudden burst of laughter. "There it is again!" Joan cried childishly. "Larry, darling, let me congratulate you on the way you have educated your dear Sister, even to the use of your own pet phrase! 'My work is of paramount importance' that's what you are always telling me, isn't it, darling? Sister," she laughed again', rather hysterically, "you are free TO go here and now back to something really worthwhile, something much more important than a scatter-brained woman who committed the unforgivable sin of marrying a doctor! Poor Larry " Laurence stood up, all his good humour dispelled. He looked at Sally, his eyes asking for her understanding. "Of course we understand, Sister," he said gently. "You must do just what you think best. It is out of the question for you to think of going tonight, of course, but tomorrow,,. if you are still of the same mind, I will drive you to the hospital with me, and report to Matron." She looked helplessly at him, unhappily aware that Joan was watching them with as much amused interest as she would look at a comedy. "I don't wish to be difficult," she said awkwardly, "but well I'd rather go tonight, if you don't mind. 4 I can't explain, but '- " "There's no need," Joan said lightly," is there, Larry, darling? Of course you must go. Sally- " Her voice shook suddenly, and Sally, much to her surprise, realized diat Joan was very pale, her eyes suspiciously bright. Immediately she felt the old concern for the girl, the strange anxiety. Was she doing the right thing, in 159 thus insisting upon leaving, she wondered wearily? Joan was not well no sense in blinding oneself to that fact but was there any real need for a nurse in constant attendance? Evidently Joan had never been realty strong, so it was to be expected that her convalescence would be tardy especially if she acted as foolishly as she had done that day, in rushing up to London! Laurence settled the matter for her by announcing that, if her mind was fully made up, he would drive her to the station. Joan, her smiles vanished, her eyes large with tired. ness, looked keenly at Salty. "Salty " she began, the moment her husband had gone out to prepare the car, "Sally, you're not angry with me?" "Angry?" Sally looked in utter perplexity at the woman, the last threads of her patience suddenly snapping. "Oh, my dear what do you want? A moment ago I would have said you were glad I was going, yet the moment I say definitely that I wish to go, you seem hurt, upset. Do you want me to stay?" For a moment the woman stared back at her, suddenly pitifully childlike, and strangely isolated. Then she held out her hands, in a queer gesture of generosity. "It's better that you go," she said quietly. "We both know that, Sally, don't we? But I want you to come again fco see me, quite soon. 'Will you promise me that, before you go? I you may find this difficult to believe. Salty, but I like you I like you very much. It's odd, isn't it?" She laughed shakily. "In a way, it's quite ironical the sort of situation that would make a good play! A triangle with a difference if you see what I mean " She put die back of her hand to her mouth, as if to stay the wild words. Sally, unable to speak, could only stare at her dumbly, a deep sense of shame permeating her being. So Joan did know . . . and, knowing, she wanted Sally to go away from this house, away from the temptation of being so near to Laurence! "Of course I'll come " she began anxiously, "but I don't want you to diink " She stopped, hearing Laurence's footsteps in the hall Joan, hearing them too, smiled sadly. 160 "I don't think, my dear child, I know. Don't worry too much about it I don't. One day, when you realty fall in love, you'll understand many things, that you do not understand now. Good-bye " she forced her voice to a new lightness as her husband came into the room "and thank you, Sister, for everything. I shall look forward to seeing you again, quite soon, remember. Don't be long, Larry darling don't get too carried away talking to Sister and go on to the hospital with her by mistake, will you?" Sally turned and went out of the room, afraid to trust herself further. She felt completely bewildered by Joan's startling changes of mood, her almost uncanny knack of knocking down Sally's defences. But if she knew Sally was in love with Larry why the remark about her one day being in love? She packed her few belongings hastily and then joined Laurence in the car. It was not far. to the station, and they sat in constrained silence. When he opened the car door for her he said simply: "I'm sorry it had to be this way. Sally. Don't go to Merry's tonight go straight home. I'll talk to Matron tomorrow, and make everything seem quite normal. There's so much I want to say to you, my dear " She drew back, afraid to look at him. "Not now " she said hurriedly, "I I might miss a train. I'd prefer to return to hospital tomorrow, as you suggest. Mr. Chesfield Larry you'll let me know if she wants me, won't you? Somehow I'm afraid. There's something I don't fully understand " He touched her hand gently, looking into her troubled face with affectionate concern. "You help by just being you, little Sally," he said softly. "Remember that, will you? I'll look after her, I promise you that. I know it must be very bewildering for you but leave it to me. And God bless you. Sally." She turned away, unable to bear more. She almost ran into the station, and, hearing the porter shouting the time of the train, she hurriedly obtained a ticket and ran past the barrier. She did not turn to see if Laurence had gone, so she did not see him standing by the barrier, staring after her with a deep sorrow in his eyes. 623 161 Back at Mrs. Grant's house, much later, Sally looked up at the tiny place and felt an unexpected sense of homecoming. It wasn't until she pushed open the gate and walked up the path towards the front door that she remembered Mrs. Grant's parting remarks about Janie Frensham wanting to come to occupy Sally's room. Instinctively she looked up at her bedroom windows, and, seeing them in darkness, told herself hopefully that maybe she wasnot too late'to retain her beloved room. For it had become beloved, now that she had been away from it, and was returning'to it in confusion and trouble. Just at that moment she needed the privacy of her own room and her own things about her, more than anything else, and as she waited for Mrs. Grant to come to the door she knew a frantic longing that everything might be as it was before she left. Here, in this house, was all she had ever known of home since her parents died.She almost fell into the hall when the front door was suddenly opened, and Mrs. Grant, seeing her in the darkness started violently."Well, for pity's sake can't you let a body know you're coming?" she cried indignantly, her hands already drawing the girl inside. "My, but you're a fine one, comi
ng back at this time of night! I might well. have been in bed, you bad girl, and wouldn't I have grumbled then! What on earth are you staring at, child? Let me look at you -" she glared at Sally's pale face in the hall light. "Well, drat it who was- the patient, this Mrs. Chesfield or you? I never saw such a change in anybody what's been going on, hm? You look as if you need feeding up and you away a matter of days! Always did say it was nonsense, the whole business. I'll make some tea " "Then I can come back?"Mrs. Grant, who had been half-way to the kitchen swung round at the childlike appeal in Sally's voice. Her heavy cheeks flushed, and she pursed her lips reproachfully."Great stupid!" she said thickly. "You know you can always come back, so long as there's a roof over my head. You didn't think I meant what I said, did you? I was just plain annoyed, and a body says anything at such times. Any 162 road, I'll not be having young Janie pestering for rooms much longer, I reckon. She'll be casting around for a home of her own before long, or my name's not Mary Grant!" Sally digested this bit of information in silent surprise. Janie? Funny, but somehow she had never thought of Janie as having love interests. But of course! she smiled understandingty that would probably explain Janie's erratic and unpredictable behaviour at times' Maybe there had been sweetheart trouble for some time past, and she had supposed the girl to be upset about Sally's private affairs!So relieved was she that, she laughed to herself and then told Mrs. Grant she would just run up to her room and tidy-up, then come back for-some tea."Yes do that, duckie," Mrs. Grant called from the kitchen. "I'll be quite like old times, sharing a cup of tea in the kitchen, won't it? Don't be long." So Sally went up to her room, and for a time she gazed around her happily, knowing a surprising peace at being back. She thought dreamily that it was queer how anxious she had been to go to the Chesfields' house and yet here she was, glad and relieved to be away from it. But-, wasthat so surprising, considering the awful atmosphere of the place?She sat down on the bed, staring out to the roof-tops of the hospital. Poor Laurence how on earth had he endured such unhappiness through the years? Joan was sweet, of course, and she liked her more than she could have believed possible, but as a wife for a man like Laurence? It was pitiful, ludicrous. He needed' a companion, somebody interested'in his work, ready and able to help, to share his worries and his triumphs, somebody like She got up abruptly, hating her thoughts. She crossed to the window and stood staring across the street at the hospital gates. In order to see better, she turned out her own light, and then leaned against the glass, staring out. As always, life flowed in and out of the big gates, and in the hospital itself lights went on in the thearte suddenly, signifying an emergency. One of the ambulances started 163 up, and then swung out through the gates and away down the road towards the town. A nurse Salty knew by sight hurried out, obviously anxious to keep! a rendezvous now her hours of duty were done. It was all so familiar, so dear she thought sleepily, and tomorrow she would be back there, back in the life she loved. She would see Lau- ' rence too,'for he had promised to visit Matron. And soon it would be Thursday again, their own special day. . . . She had been watching a man who was standing just outside the hospital gates, her eyes noticing him but her brain not realty registering him. Now, with sudden interest, she peered out, her eyes narrowing slightly. Why, it was Alan. What was he doing, waiting there so patiently, beneath the hospital light? Maybe, if she called to him, he would come across. It was late, but Mrs. Tjrant wouldn't mind, she thought eagerly, and it we did be good to talk to him. He might be able to help her through this tangle she had woven about herself. He would advise her as to whether she should stay on at Merry's, or go. Alan was the one person who could help her.She put up her hands to open the window, then hesitated as another thought struck her. Supposing, she thought determinedty, supposing she accepted Alan's proposal, when next he made it? Might that not be the way out of all her troubles? Married to Alan, she would have to put Laurence out of her heart and her life, once and for all. Alan loved her, and if she did not love him, would that really matter? She would devote her life to making him happy and surety that would more than justify her action in accepting him? It wouldn't be cheating not realty not if Alan loved her. Or would it?She tried to push such thoughts away from her, hating her selfishness, yet refusing to .admit that the idea was out of the question. It would be so easy, so very easy.She had only to remind Alan of his invitation, given long ago, to meet his family. Once he realized she wanted to go, he would know that she was interested in him, and from then it would be only a short step to a proposal. "No__" The words broke from her indignantly, and she rested her throbbing head against the cold glass, filled with self-reproach. Alan deserved so much more than diat 164 how could she have contemplated, for one brief moment the offer of something second-rate? No, she would simply ask his advice no more. This time she half-opened the window, and as she did so she saw Alan turn as a girl came running out of the hospital gates towards him. The girl was laughing, and seeing Alan, she ran up to him and flung her arms about his neck. Alan was laughing, too, and as Salty stared at them, her whole body frozen into immobility, the girl turned her face towards the house. The girl was Janie Frensham. , They went off down the road together, but Sally watched them no longer. Mrs. Grant called from downstairs, her voice impatient and demanding. "What about this tea?" she asked shrilly. "Do you want it black, girl? Are you coming down, or do I have to come and fetch you?" ., "I'm coming," Sally said stupidly, wondering just why she had to go down, and why Mrs. Grant was making tea . at this ridiculous hour. It was all very funny, and she didn't seem to" be able to make sense of anything. She went downstairs slowly, holding the banister-rail as if she were afraid she might fall. Mrs. Grant, looking up from the tea-things to reprimand her, changed her mind, and drew a swift breath of fear. "Come along and sit down, dear," she said simply, her voice unusually quiet. "You look just about all in. This new job has been too much for you, I shouldn't wonder. You must relax now it's finished, isn't it?" Sally sat down and looked vaguely at Mrs. Grant. "Oh, yes, it's finished," she agreed t politely. "Everything's finished, Mrs. Grant. It's funny, isn't it, how everything finishes at the same time?" Mrs. Grant frowned, then pushed a cup of tea towards the girl."What you need is a good night's sleep," she said practically. "You've had just about all you can take, for the time being. Don't you worry, duckie things will all look very different in the morning. You want to be fresh for 165-' hospital in the morning, don't you? That's the important thing "And it was then that Sally began to laugh harsh, ugly laughter which shook her slender frame with its violence. "But of course, Mrs. Grant," she cried, in between the paroxysms of laughter. "That's what we both think Larry and I that's what we always say, didn't you know? It's the work that is of paramount importance! Nothing else matters nothing at all nothing at all!" Mrs. Grant got up from the table and regarded Sally with concern. "Look here I don't know what all this is about," she said firmly, "but what I do know is that I'm not having any more of this nonsense. If you were a small girl I'd Eut you across my knee and spank some sense into you, ut as it is all I can do is to tell you to stop behaving like a silly schoolgirl and pull yourself together. Would you like me to send for a doctor?" Sally caught her breath and made a desperate attempt to stop the frightening laughter. After a few seconds she grew calm, and then she looked at Mrs. Grant with a rather shaky smile.,"I'm so sorry," she said with childlike simpilidty. "It just seemed that everything got on top of me, suddenly. I promise to behave now, Grantie. What a homecoming I can't tell you how deeply ashamed I am. The joke of it all is that I'm not awfully sure what upset me ... it was just an accumulation of things." Mrs. Grant pursed her lips."Not surprising, if you-ask me," she said cryptically. "It's no business of mine, of course, but frankly I'm not very surprised that you've got yourself worked up this way. It can't have been easy working for the Chesfields, from what I've heard of their home life. Especially," she added rather queerty, "under the circumstances." "What what circumstances?" Sally demanded defiantly, miserably aware that she was blushing hotly. Mrs. Grant obse
rved this confusion, and shtfok her head. "No need to play that innocent with me, my girl," she said flatty. "I've got eyes in my head, even if my ears didn't hear it a dozen times a day from everybody over at the 166 hospital. You're not pretending you're not in love with the Chesfield man, are you?" "How dare you " Sally began indignantly, but Mrs. Grant srniled at her calmly. "Quite easily," she said mildly. "And why not? You take precious little trouble to keep you infatuation to yourself, my dear child. You've been carrying a .torch for that wretched man ever since you met him that day, not so very long ago. I could find it in my heart to pity you, if only I didn't think you such a little fool. If you want my advice " Sally stood up, aware that she was trembling violently. "I don't, thank you." She kept her voice steady by an effort. "I want no advice from anybody, concerning my personal affairs. I think I'll go to bed now, if you don't mind." Mrs. Grant shrugged, not looking at the girl. "You do just as you please, miss," she said sharply. "I can dear away and wash up, no doubt. Nobody" shall say I've failed to be a good landlady " Sally turned to look at the woman, touched by the infinite wistfiilness in her voice. Mrs. Grant looked up at the same moment, and something in the absurdity of the situation struck them at the same moment, and they laughed together. "Oh, dear," cried Mrs. Grant. "If my poor dear husband could have heard me then! Know what he'd have said, Salty? He'd say, 'Up speaks the martyr, bless her!' And he'd be right, too. That's the worst of it he always was right! 'Oodles of self-pity', he used to tease me, 'and that's no tonic for anybody, Mary!'" Sally smiled in rueful agreement. "Then heaven knows what he would have thought of me," she said simply, "for that's been my trouble for some time past wrapping myself round with self-pity. Come along, we'll wash up together, and start off on the right foot tomorrow!" Back in her own room, later, Sally lay for a time thinking over all that had happened. So Janie and Alan were in love why on earth had she been so surprised and upset by this quite natural development? It made sense of so 167 many things which had puzzled her before. It explained Janie's queer behaviour, for wasn't it more than likely that she' would be jealous of Alan's supposed love for Sally? Even then, no doubt, the girl liked Alan looking back now, she could remember several occasions when she had seen'Janie talking to Alan, and always with that eager smile.. And then again she frowned, remembering what of Alan's indignation when she had tried to ask his advice regarding Janie's carelessness and clumsiness? He had sprung to her defence then yet why should he do so if he had no feelings for her? Surely a doctor's first duty, in ordinary circumstances, would be to consider the effect of a nurse's shortcomings on the running of the hospital, and on her patients? If Alan was not prejudiced, or biased, he must surely have advised her to tell Matron the truth about Janie's work? She turned restlessly, pressing her burning cheek to the pillow. All right, then Alan and Janie were in love. Why not accept the fact sensibly, calmly? She didn't want Alan for herself why should she begrudge him to poor little Janie? What kind of a woman was she, if she could not contemplate the happiness of others so long as her own happiness was not in sight? She got up at last, convinced she would not sleep. Over at the window she stood looking across at the hospital, trying vainly to recapture her former wholehearted devotion to the place. From now on, she decided grimly, it must be her whole life into its safe channels she must direct all her energies, all her thoughts, all her dreams. Nobody else wanted them. . ... No that was not fair, Laurence loved her; of that at least she could be sure. That he was married, and therefore not able to speak of his love, did not matter. He told her all she needed to know by his kiss, and his every word. He knew, too, that she loved him, and with that simple truth they must be content. She could still work with him and for him, and together; surely they would be able to sublimate their mutual love in their beloved work? She leaned against the cold glass, sick and miserable. Was that, then, all that life had to offer her ? Hard work, 168 constant devotion to an uncaring population, no home, no tie, no love? Would that suffice? When she crept back to bed at last, shivering and un. happy, she knew that she had to make up her mind to face_ the future as it was. There must be no more idle foolish dreams, no more useless longings. Her love for Laurence must remain for ever a secret,' and her decision to marry Alan had been dismissed from the realms of possibility. At least, she thought ashamedly, she had been spared the deception of a loveless marriage, which she had thought up merely to satisfy her own loneliness! She fell asleep at last, and slept soundly until the morning. Somewhat to her surprise, she felt fresh and alert. when she got up, and over breakfast she was able to discuss the coming day quite equably with a rather chastened Mrs. Grant. "I can't think what came over me last night," she told Sally humbly. "Wasn't like me at all to fly off at you as I did. You won't hold it against me think any more about living in at the hospital, or anything of that kind, will you?" Sally smiled, touching the woman's hand gently. "I shan't leave until you kick me out," she promised teasingly. "Forget it. I haven't quite decided about staying on at Merry's, but so long as I do, I'd want to stay here." Mrs. Grant stared at her, eyebrows raised in some consternation. "You wouldn't run away from Merry's?" she demanded indignantly. "For mercy's sake, child, do you want to break your own silly heart? You love that hospital, and if I'm any judge it needs you pretty badly. I've known the Matron a good many years, and I've never heard her go out of her way to praise one of her staff until the day she men-tioned you. She thinks highly of you, Sally Marthorpe and you don't have to pay her out for your own little disappointments, do you? Your work at the hospital is what matters, when all is said and done, and if you walk out of there just because of a certain doctor I could mention, you'd be doing the place a rank injustice, to my way of thinking. What about your precious Clinic? Or isn't that important unless it carries the possibility of a husband with it?" 169 For a moment Sally struggled with anger. Then, realizing die bitter truth in the woman's words, she stood up and braced her shoulders unconsciously. "You're right, of course," she admitted quietly. "Thanks, Grantie maybe you've done me more good than you suppose. I I don't expect to be late tonight." Over at Merry's she went immediately to the Matron, who told her that Chesfield had already phoned to tell her diat Sally was returning. "And I'm very glad of it. Sister," she added, allowing herself a rare smile. "We've missed you here. Everything works out splendidly, as it happens, for our temporary doctor and nurse are anxious to be released, so you can step back into position as it were right away. Now what about Nurse Frensham?" "Nurse Frensham?" Sally's tone was puzzled. "But I thought before I went out on the Chesfield case, I understood that Nurse had asked to be released from the Clinic work. Matron?" Matron, who seemed in a particularly good humour, nodded, amusedly. "So she did," she agreed equably. "She wanted to work with Dr. Trenton. I must say it worked out splendidly Doctor cannot speak too highly of Nurse, much to my surprise. It seems she has found her real place at last, with the children. A great pity, in a way, for if rumour has the story right, she has discovered her true vocation rather late. We hear that Nurse is rather occupied with the idea of marriage" Matron laughed at Sally's expression "but somewhat to my surprise she has expressed the wish to help you in the Clinic, if you want her. How do you feel about it?" "It's nice of Nurse Frensham," Sally offered awkwardly, thoroughly bewildered by all that had been said, "but if'she is happiar in the children's wards, and you are satisfied with her work there, wouldn't it be better for her to remain with Dr. Trenton? There must be other nurses who could help in the Clinic." "Very well," Matron agreed in somewhat obvious relief. "I was hoping you'd see it that way, Sister. Frankly, I feel we have rather misjudged Nurse in the past she 170 was obviously in the wrong job, and that accounts for her rather bad record in the time she has been here. We owe it to Dr. Trenton that he has discovered the real nurse beneath the somewhat scatter-brained exterior wouldn't you agree?" "Oh, indeed!" Sally murmured rather cryptically. "Then you will arrange for a new assistant for me?" Later in the day Nurse Harrison, a middle-aged, rather dictatorial woman, arrived to help Sally in the Cli
nic. After her fist secret dismay, Sally found her efficient, and pleasant with the patients, but she found herself missing Janie's presence more than she could have supposed possible. By die end of'-the day it was almost as if she had never been away, and she went back to Mrs. Grant's I)iouse feeling satisfied with her day's work, but bored by the prospect of a long, lonely evening. About this time, in the Chesfield home, she thought dreamily, Joan would be putting on a record and switching on all the lights, ready to welcome Laurence. She turned her thoughts away from that dangerous theme and hurried into the house. As she went into the hall the telephone began to ring, and she answered it idly, expecting it to be for Mrs. Grant. Hearing Laurence's voice she stiffened, her hold tightening on the receiver. "Sally, is that you?" His voice was urgent, a little anxious. "I tried to get you at Merry's, but they said you had just gone. Look here, I know this is confounded cheek on my part, so soon after you padeed up the case, but the fact is I'm worried about Joan." She closed her eyes in a sudden spasm of weariness. "No . . . not again," she prayed silently. "I can't bear any more. Joan must take care of herself, and so must you . . . I've had about enough c& it;'surety you must know that? Isn't it obvious that I love you, that I get hurt every time I come near your home and your wife?" "Salty are you there?" His voice was frankly impatient now. "Do pay attention to what I'm saying, dear! "Joan isn't well she's in one of her highly nervous states, and frankly I don't care for the idea of leaving her alone. I wondered if you could come over for an hour or two, just 171 till I get back? I must come up to the hospital, but I wouldn't be long " "Larry I can't!" The words broke from her angrily. "You have no right to ask me! Joan was my patient, but she is that no longer and it's sheer nonsense to talk about her being alone. You have the servants " "Salty, listen!" he interrupted her sharply. "This isn't a case where the mere presence of servants is all that is needed. Joan needs a friend and, although you may not know it, she has become very fond of you " "She has a strange way of showing that emotion," Salty began wryly. "I can't see she has any real feeling for me, or for" she had been going to say 'for you', but changed her mind quickly and added rather lamely "or for anybody, for that matter!" He did not answer at once, and she wondered, rather belatedly, if she had annoyed him., "Salty" she startled at the urgency of his voice now "please come. Joan needs you she needs you more than -you think. You mustn't blame her for what may seem to you very like flippancy. I can't hope for you to understand, but this is one time when I am asking you do. something for me, my dear. Please come, as soon as you can, just so that she is not alone this evening." She tried to resist his pleading, but she knew it was useless. Utterly weary, more than a little resentful, she told him she would come as soon as she could, and replaced the receiver. She told Mrs. Grant she-had to go out unexpectedly to visit an old patient. Mrs. Grant sniffed. "Not so old as all that, surely?" she asked rather sourly. "Goodness some people change their minds as often as their socks, as my husband used to say. I thought ypu'd finished with Mrs. Chesfield?" "So did I," Sally agreed grimly, "but it seems we're both wrong. I'll not be late, though, that I do assure you." She went upstairs and prepared for her journey with mounting annoyance. It was all very fine, she argued to herself, but if Larry thought he could phone for her whenever Joan was in one of her tantrums, he was quite wrong. It was not only annoying, it was humiliating thus to be 172 called to die wife of the man she loved. If he could not see that for himself, then he must be told. She went out, ten minutes later, and hurried towards the station. Just as she was going into the station hallway, she saw Janie Prensham coming out. Immersed as she was in her own problem. Salty could not restrain a start of surprise at the transformation of the hitherto shy, rather mouse-like girl. Janie was not in uniform, and her neat little linen costume, in royal blue, suited her to perfection, giving color to her cheeks arid emphasising the darkness of her eyes and hair. Seeing Sally, she hailed her gaily, an eager smile on her lips. "Sally it's you!" she cried delightedly, "I wanted so much to see you. I have such a lot to tell you, too " Impulsively Salty took the girl's hands and' squeezed them fondly. "Some other time, my dear," she said regretfully. "I have to catch this train but I can wish you happiness, my dear you so richly deserve it! I I know you will be happy both of you " Janie widened her eyes. "So you know?" she asked with glad surprise. "Well how news gets around, doesn't it? I'm so happy, Sally " "Train's in, Sister!" the man at the barrier called her amiably, recognizing her by her uniform. "Have to look slippy if you're going to catch it!" "Bless you, Janie!" Sally said swiftly, turning from the girl. "Some other time. Good-bye, dear." She was glad to relax in the train, and the journey seemed only too short to Sally. She had no wish to meet Joan again, so soon after their rather awkward parting, and when she reached the small house she hoped fervently that Laurence would have left, so that she need not see the two of them together again. Joan herself came to the door, and, seeing Sally, poke in a strangely jerky voice. "So he did ask you," she began nervously, as they stood in the lovely hall. "He said he would poor darling he's got the jitters about me all of a sudden. Bit late, isn't it?" She laughed shakily, and to Sally's ears the laugh 173 sounded ominous. "But there they say a doctor's wife can die on her own doorstep before her husband realizes she's ill, don't they?" "But you're not ill," Sally reminded her quiedy, taking off her cape. "What's all this about anyway? You don't look as well as you did yesterday is anything wrong?" Joan, who was certainly looking startingty pale, laughed shrilly and led Sally into the lounge. She flung herself on the divan, and stretched her young arms wearily. "No more than usual!" she said slowly. "Just unutterably bored immeasurably unhappy and sick to the soul of my silly existence!" Sally sat down opposite her, trying to hide her own discomfiture and alarm at the woman's obvious nervous tension. "Aren't you being rather over-dramatic?" she asked slowly. "You're not well, and that probably explains most of your feeling of listlessness, as I've told you before. But you must realize you have a lot to be thankful for, Joan " "Such as what?" Salty drew back at the simple, softly asked question. Joan was looking at her steadily. Her tension had gone and was replaced by a sober concentration which Sally could not remember seeing in her before. "Why you can't really want me to tell you," she began. Joan leaned forward, her lovely face quite calm. "I want you to tell me just why I should be so thankful, Sally," she said quietly and steadily. "It might help me. It might even help you, I think. Oh, all right" she waved a hand in weary dismissal of Sally's attempted protests "we're surely too well acquainted now to fight shy of the truth, aren't we? I know just why you came here, ' Salty, and I want you now to tell me just what makes you think I am to be envied?" ' "This is ridiculous," Sally began uncomfortably; then, realizing that Joan was waiting for a sensible answer to her question, she said carefully, "All right, then you have your own beauty, your charm, and your home. You wouldn't deny any of those possessions, I suppose? To crown everything, you have a husband who is admired and 174 respected throughtout the length and breadth of the country, and " "And?" Joan prompted quietly. "Do go on." "What are you trying to do?" Sally demanded unhappily. "Isn't it enough, all that I have told you? What kind of a woman are you, anyway? Is there no satisfying you?" Joan leaned back in her chair, dosing her eyes. Sally, watching her, felt another stab of fear at the tell-tale lines beneath the lovely eyes, the sunken hollows of the diin cheeks. This woman she thought anxiously, was realty ill ... more ill than she had believed. Did anyone know just how ill she was? "I don't think I ask such a lot of life," Joan was saying slowly, almost as if she spoke rather to herself than to Sally. "I only wanted one person, in the entire w6rld, to love me." "But but I don't understand," Salty protested weakly. "How can you say such a thing, when you have when you have " Joan opened her eyes' and looked at Sally. "You can't bring yourself to say it, can you?" she said with a sad smile. "No, and I'm not surprised. He doesn't love me, Sally he has never loved me. Not for one day, or one hour. That's why I'm never satisfied, Sally that's why I gbad him, and nag at him, and drive him half-crazy
with my idotic ways why I never show a glimmer of interest in his confounded surgery why I sometimes hate him almost as much as I hate myself " She broke off, covering her face with her Bands. Sally, sick with shocked surprise, went to her and put an arm about her shoulders. "This is absurd," she said firmly with a conviction she was far from feeling. "He must have loved you once. After all, he married you " "No" Joan's voice was low now "he didn't marry me. Sally he married my position in society, my background, my money. I was so useful to him, don't you see? I could make a splendid hostess, a very reliable bankbalance, and if he had these two assets he could make a success of the only thing that really mattered to him his work. I didn't, want to be a hostess and a bank-balance, 175 Sally, but I pretended I didn't care so long as he married me. I've got to do him justice, Sally he didn't even pretend to love me. There was a girl he loved she would have made him an excellent wife." Her voice grew tense with bitterness. "She was everything I was not devoted to medicine, eager to help him, she would have worked her fingers to the bone for him. I dangled my money and position before his nose she could only offer him loving devotion, and look what I could offer him!" Sally did not move. "So I cheated," Joan went on steadily. "I got my father to make him a proposition he simply could not refuse. It meant the beginning of his real career and he knew it. It was' too tempting an offer to refuse, and, just to make quite sure, I told the little nurse that she was standing in the way of his success. She quite deliberately picked a quarrel with him, refused to marry him and so he came to me. He married me. And now tell me what I have in life. Tell me, if you can. Sally, why you think I can ever be happy." "But he loves you now," Sally said wildly, unable to bear the look on the pallid face. "I know he does." "If he has any love for me at all, it is for what I made possible," Joan said simply, "and he pities me. God knows he pities me. Poor Larry. But I don't wan(: pity, Sally does any woman ever want that ? It's only another word for failure when she cannot evoke love, then she evokes pity, It's my own fault, I know but that never helps very much." "You're exaggerating the whole situation," Sally insisted, upset by Joan's words. "You must try to forget all about it. Look here, let's have coffee and I'll switch on the gramaphone." Joan smiled, a strange affection in her eyes. "The never-failing tact of the born nurse, darling," she said gently. "Know something. Sally? You've always reminded me so much of my former rival. She was good and kind, and honest, like you she was fair, too, and* terribly conscientious. You're the kind of woman who should have married Larry. Not me ... . you see, to me his work isn't all-important, and to make. him happy it has to 176 be all-important to everybody he knows. It would be very important to you, wouldn't it Sally?" Sally did not answer; She could not. Turning away ' from Joan, she went to ring the bell, and when the maid came she ordered coffee, then busied herself with the gramaphone. Later, as they drank their coffe, she noticed that Joan looked decidedly feverish, and suddenly she ' wanted Laurence to come in and for the first time'since she had known him she wanted him for somebodys else's sake, not her own. She had a strange feeling longing to pacify the woman, to bring back some happiness to the dark, brooding eyes. No matter what Joan had, or had not done no woman should be condemned to a life of loneliness such as she seemed to be leading. Her only sin- had been to love too much, and surely Larry was demanding too much in payment for such a small and understandable sin? The hours passed slowly, and Salty watched Joan growing more and more tense, less and less able to control her nervous excitement. By the time the sound of Larry's car ' was heard outside, Sally felt almost as exhausted as did her patient, and she hurried out into the hall to meet him, determined to tell him something of her fears regarding his wife. Before she could open the door, however, Joan had come out from the lounge and she pushed past Sally so that she might open the door to her husband herself. The moment ''e caught sight of him coming away from the car, she called his name wildly. "Don't come in, darling," she urged him. "I want you to take me for a short ride. No" as Sally would have protested "I don't want any more fussing, Salty, please! Let me do as I want for once, will you? Larry, darling" she turned to meet him eagerly "you will take me, won't you? If I have to stay in the house a moment longer I shall scream! I can't bear it if I don't go out somewhere, anywhere " 'Sally caught a glimpse of his face, tired and anxious, and wondered how Joan could be so unreasonable. "But Joan it's raining, and it's rather a disgusting night," Laurence began wearily. "I was just wishing I . hadn't asked Salty to come out on such a night." 177 "But of course!" Joan's voice was filled with triumph. "That's the answer, don't you see? Darling, you can't possibly allow Salty to go back by train. You must run her home, mustn't you? And in that case I can come too, don't you see? It will kill two birds with 'one stone " She broke off, giggling childishly. Oh dear, talk about famous last words! But you know what I mean Larry, you will take me, won't you?" Salty, irritated and embarrassed, looked at Laurence, hoping he would refuse. Somewhat to her surprise, she saw his face had changed, become strangely gentle and understanding. He put a hand on his wife's shoulder, and patted it reassuringly. "Of course I will, my dear run and put your coat on, and,mind you wrap up well." "I don't think it's wise," Sally began urgently when Joan had run to do his bidding. "Honestly, Larry, I think she is far more ill than you suppose. I've been really worried, all evening. She might catch cold, in her weak state." He seemed to slump before her eyes, to grow old and very unhappy. "If it will make her happy," he said, slowly, "then she must go. You don't understand, Sally how could you? I must give her any little happiness I can, poor child." She shrugged her shoulders, no longer attempting to understand this strange couple. When they were all three ready, they went to the car and Joan sat in the front with her husband, whilst Salty sat behind. They did not talk much, but Joan seemed extraordinarily cheered by the outing and hummed happily to herself as they drove through the driving rain. Sally,-too tired to think any more, leaned back and dosed her eyes, longing to be in her own room, away from these two people who had such power to excite her love and pity. She had a strange conviction that had she been able to meet Joan in different circumstances, they might well have become very dose friends. Oh, but why worry about that now? She dozed a little, lulled by-the movement of the car and by the rythmic swishing of the windscreen-wipers. They turned a sharp corner, and she frowned in sleepy protest. Suddenly, with a jerk which sent her hurding for. 178 word, Larry jammed on his brakes. Somebody screamed . . Sally never knew whether it was her voice or Joan's which pierced the night. There was a sudden terrifying light a world-shattering crash, the splintering of glass. Somebody screamed again, and went on screaming .... And then there was silence, and darkness a darkness which was warm and impenetrable and suffocating. Hours later or was it years? she came back to light, and consciousness. She lay for a long time, staring up at the dimmed light over her bed, trying to reconstruct what had happened. She felt quite devoid of feeling, except for a queer little knot which seemed to have successfully tied itself in the back of her neck, and so immobilized her entire body. That was funny, she thought hazily, she had never learned that in her days of study. Why hadn't they taught them that if you tied a knot in the nerves of your neck, nothing would work? But how did you tie a knot in the neck? That it was possible, she had no doubt, because it had happened to her, hadn't it? But how? She must ask somebody . . . ask somebody , . . . Perhaps she could ask her mother, she decided with difficulty. That was another funny thing . . . she didn't seem to be able to think, either. She couldn't remember anybody who would tell her what she was doing in this strange bed, with the light on above her head. A funny light, it was with a piece of silk draped round it. Silly, it shut out most of the light nobody could see to read by it. A patient had grumbled about that once. A patient? But that had been in hospital, hadn't it? But she wasn't in hospital . . . was she? Was she? She called out, violently afraid. Somebody came at once somebody who told her not to worry, everything would be all right. Funny, the words sounded as familiar as the Lord's Prayer to her. She'd said diat
to so many people not to worry, because everything would be all right. She always said that when they were very ill, or scared, or ... dying .... You shouldn't say that fro me," she said distinctly and very loudly. "They ought to have told you that. You only say that when a patient is ill, or frightened, and I'm not ill ... ." She stopped, and then went on falteringly, "But 179 I am frightened, aren't I? I'm terribly frightened, because I can't remember. I can't remember ..." They whispered something to her, urging her to try to sleep. But she wanted to remember first. She had to remember who had been with her when whatever had happened did happen. Was that sense ? Was i't the night of that carsmash, all over again? Had her father been with her, and her mother? No ... She knew, suddenly and devastatingly. She recaptured it all in one terrifying, soul-searching flash. They tried to pacify her, but she had to know. She told them she would never be quiet again unless they told her. And so, quite simply, she learned what had happened: Laurence was uninjured, except for a few minor scratches. Sally had been in the hospiital for several hours and had only just regained consciousness. "And Joan?" she asked doggedly when they stopped talking. "Why don't you tell me about Joan? I want to, know it all all, do you understand!" And so they told her, with infinite gentleness, that Joan had been only slightly hurt, but nevertheless, after a few hours in hospital, she had died. "She was too ill to stand the shock," they added, hoping that would explain everything. 180