"It's impossible today. I'm on duty. What about tonight?"
"We're seeing some friends of Tod's." There was a pause. "It looks as if we won't be able to have our talk after all. But maybe it's for the best." There was the sound of a door banging and when Janet spoke again her tone was artificially bright. "Darling, Tod's just come in. He says we'll call in and see you on our way home tomorrow. We'll be leaving at noon."
"Fine, I'll rustle up some food. At least we can have a snack together before you go."
The next morning Lesley rushed out of the hospital during her coffee break and returned laden with Viennese cakes and a large box of Swedish sandwiches. She arranged with the porter to show Janet and Tod to her room as soon as they arrived, and at noon hurried upstairs to put on the percolator for coffee.
At half-past-twelve there was still no sign of them. She rang the hotel, only to be told they had checked out early that morning.
Restlessly she returned to her duties, constantly expecting to be called to the telephone. But the entire day passed without a word, and she was in her room again, listening to the six o'clock news, when they finally arrived.
"I'm so sorry," Janet apologised, "but Tod had to meet some people for lunch and we simply couldn't get away."
"It doesn't matter," Lesley said brightly. "So long as you don't object to dried-up sandwiches!"
"I'm too full to eat," Tod said. "I'll have a doze while you two girls chatter."
"We won't talk for long," Janet said. "I don't want us to leave too late."
"You're not driving back to Liverpool tonight, are you?" Lesley asked in surprise.
"Why not?" Tod was truculent. "I've driven in the dark before and Bobby won't mind sleeping in the back of the car, will you, son?"
Bobby was too immersed in a magazine to answer, and Tod settled down in an armchair. Looking at him, Lesley's unease grew: she was certain he had been drinking heavily.
"Why not change your mind and stay over one more night? I'd love you and Janet to be my guests this evening."
"I have to get back," Tod replied. "Don't fuss any more and give me a drink. Whiskey and water if you have it."
Reluctantly Lesley complied. The atmosphere was strained and though Janet tried to pretend nothing was wrong, it was a relief when, after half an hour, Tod said it was time to go.
In the warm light he looked unaltered from the young man who had married Janet eight years earlier. From the first, his antagonism toward Lesley had been obvious, increasing with intensity until it had forced her to leave home. She had disliked him then, and she disliked him more now.
With a sigh she helped Janet into her coat and walked with them to their car in the hospital parking lot.
"Telephone me when you arrive home," she murmured to her sister.
"Don't worry about us," Janet said in an undertone. "I know Tod looks the worse for wear, but he'll be all right."
Hastily she climbed into the car and Lesley stood on the step waving as they drove off. Then she reentered the hospital and made her way to her small office in the casualty department.
The normal sounds of the hospital reached her ears—the clatter of a trolley, the tread of nurses' rubber- heeled shoes and the bleep of an intercom. Pulling some index cards toward her, she picked up her pen and began to write.
It seemed no time before a nurse hurried in. "Nasty accident just admitted doctor. A car and a lorry." >
"How many casualties?"
"Lorry driver dead and two of them in a mess. But the driver of the car's unhurt. And it was his fault, too!"
"It often happens that way."
Lesley hurried into the next room as two orderlies placed a stretcher gently on the table. The nurse drew back the hospital blanket and Lesley gave a gasp of horror. Janet!
The energy seemed to drain from her body and for one split second she thought she was going to faint. Then training reasserted itself and automatically she began her examination, working quickly and methodically.
"Put her in a side ward and send for Dr. Gainsford," she said after a moment and turned to the second, smaller figure lying on another stretcher. As she had expected it was Bobby, but after a quick examination he did not look severely injured and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Take him to the children's ward. His ankle's broken and a couple of ribs, too. I want him X-rayed at once." She turned and sank onto a chair, her face almost as white as her jacket. "Where's the other patient?"
"Outside," the nurse said. "But there's hardly a scratch on him. It's a—"
"Please, nurse, spare me the details! Bring Tod in."
The girl stared at her and Lesley realised what she had said. "The man is my brother-in-law."
"Then the woman and child are_______ Oh, doctor… I'd no idea. Would you like me to ask Dr. Barnes to take over?"
"No thank you. I… I can deal with it myself."
Lesley barely recognised Tod when he staggered into the room. His clothes were torn and his face covered with blood that was not his own. He lurched to a chair and clutched the back of it for support.
"The truck came at me. I tried to swerve but I couldn't miss it. I didn't have a chance!"
"Because you were drunkV
His head jerked up. "That's a lie!"
"It's the truth!"
He flung out one hand as if to ward off her words.
"Janet—how is she? And Bobby? They're not___________ My God, tell me they're not dead!"
"Bobby has fractured some ribs and broken his ankle."
"And Janet?"
Lesley swallowed hard. "It'll be a miracle if she recovers."
"I don't believe you! You're only saying it to frighten me." He lunged toward her, swaying on his feet. "You've always hated me and now you're trying to get your own back!"
"Don't talk like a fool!"
"I'm not a fool," he panted. "I want another doctor—a specialist. I don't want you!"
His voice rose and a nurse entered. Lesley gestured wearily toward Tod and then made her way to the side ward where the senior registrar was already attending Janet.
"What are her chances?" Lesley asked.
"You know as well as I do." He hesitated. "I doubt if she'll last the night. There's no point moving her upstairs."
Lesley nodded. "I'd like to stay here. She may recover consciousness."
"Of course. I'll get Dr. Barnes to stand in for you."
He went out and Lesley drew a chair close to the bed. A short while later a nurse brought her a cup of tea and she gulped it down, uncaring that it scalded her throat.
Dawn was breaking when Janet finally awoke. She stared unseeingly about her, then her eyes focused into recognition as she saw Lesley.
"Bobby? Is he… is he hurt?"
"A couple of broken bones. Otherwise he's fine. So is Tod."
"I don't care about Tod. It's Bobby
"He's fine, darling. I swear it."
Janet closed her eyes for so long that Lesley thought she had lapsed into unconsciousness. But suddenly the lids lifted again, the eyes underneath full of fear.
"Must talk…won't make any difference now____________ I haven't long, have I?"
"Don't say that."
"It's true. I can see it on your face. That's why I must talk… about Bobby. Take care of him for me. Tod loves him but he's no good with… with children." The words were coming with difficulty and a spasm of pain marked the ashen face. "Been unhappy for years… wanted to leave but …"
"Why didn't you?" Lesley said fiercely. "If only you'd told me."
"Too late now." Janet struggled for breath. "Bobby's life————————— That's all I care about."
"I'll look after him," Lesley promised and rested her hand on her sister's. "Don't give in, darling. You've got to fight—for Bobby's sake and mine. We need you."
There was no sound and she leaned closer. A gentle smile curved her sister's lips but the eyes were fixed and staring, and with hands that trembled Lesley tenderly c
losed the lids.
Many times before she had seen death, but always she had been an outsider. But this was Janet, her own flesh and blood, and for the first time she knew the anguish of losing someone she loved.
CHAPTER FOUR
The first coherent conversation Lesley had with Tod was after Janet's funeral.
"I suppose you hate me," he said, "and I don't blame you. If there was any justice in the world I should be dead—not her."
Unable to tolerate his comments, she turned away. "Bobby will be leaving the hospital in about a month. I'll bring him to Liverpool myself and stay a couple of weeks to see him settled. Do you think you'll have found a housekeeper by then?"
"How do I know? It won't be easy. I'll talk to the kid who works in my shop. Her mother might be willing to lend a hand. Wire me when you're coming and I'll meet you at the station."
True to his word Tod was on the platform to greet them when she and Bobby arrived in Liverpool a month later. This unkempt person, so unlike the debonair man she had always known, aroused her sympathy, and she was annoyed with herself.
"How have you been managing?" she asked stiffly.
"Badly. The 'help' didn't last long and I've been making do on my own."
This was apparent as soon as they entered the house. Dust overlaid everything, and newspapers and dirty dishes cluttered the kitchen and dining tables.
"It wasn't like this when mummy was here," Bobby whimpered.
"I know, darling." Lesley bent to hug him. "But I'll soon have it nice and clean. The first thing is to get you into bed. Upstairs you go now, Bobby. It's very late."
She suited her actions to her words and then gave him another hug. With his pink shining face and soft brown hair he looked angelic.
"I'll send daddy along to say good night."
"He never used to come up before."
"He will now."
"Because mummy's dead?"
Not trusting herself to reply, she hurried out. For all their dependence on grown-ups, children were immensely matter-of-fact in their acceptance of a situation, and his remark had caught her unaware. She blinked the tears from her eyes and entered the living room.
"You'd better go and say good night to Bobby."
"Sure," Tod said. "He's all I've got now."
Lesley's vacation flew by. Bobby took it for granted she was staying indefinitely and she wondered how he would react when she left.
"Can't you get a hospital appointment up here?" Tod asked halfway through her final week.
"No," she said quickly. "You must get a housekeeper."
"What for? The kid's at school for most of the day and he can stay at the play centre till I pick him up at six."
"And the holidays?"
"I'll worry about that when the time comes."
"And what about his meals and clothes and evenings when you want to go out?"
"Mind your own business. You're turning your back on the whole thing anyway."
She forced down her temper. "I'm being logical, Tod. We've never hit it off and I'm sure we wouldn't now. My being here wouldn't solve anything."
"it suits you to beüeve that," he sneered and went to the door. "Don't wait up for me. I'm going out for a drink."
Lying in bed that night Lesley knew that part of what Tod had said was true: she was taking the easy way out by returning to London. Her brother-in-law might start with fine ideas of looking after his son, but gradually he would take the line of least resistance, and then what? She could see Bobby's future only too clearly: see the disintegration of a well-cared-for child into an unkempt ruffian whose home was a street corner. She would have to move to Liverpool. In that way she could keep an eye on him and fulfill her promise to Janet.
Slowly she drifted off to sleep, jerked awake by an unexpected noise. With a gasp she sat up. Tod was climbing the stairs. Noisily he banged the bathroom door and his passage to the bedroom was marked by another crash as he tumbled over a chair.
From Bobby's room came a thin wail and Lesley jumped out of bed and reached for her dressing gown. Since the accident he was prone to nightmares and the slightest noise made him wake up terrified. She hurried across to his room.
Tod was already there, scarlet with anger. "Stop snivelling," he shouted, "and go b2ck to sleep."
"You woke me up," Bobby cried.
"I'm not creeping around my own home just because you're in bed?"
His loud voice made Bobby cry harder and Tod lurched over to him.
Out of the corner of his eye the little boy saw his aunt. He tried to jump out of bed to reach her, but Tod slapped him roughly back against the pillows.
"Stay where you are when I'm talking to you!"
"I want Auntie Lesley," Bobby wailed.
Tod gave his son another slap and Lesley darted across the room.
"Don't you dare hit him again!" she shouted.
"I'll do as I like!" Tod swung her round to the door. "I'm the kid's father and I won't have you teaching him to hate me!"
"I don't need to teach him that," she flared. "He'll learn it for himself if he goes on living with you. You're a drunken bully as well as a murderer!"
"And you're an ice-cold bitch without a heart!" He pulled her hard up against his chest and stared into her face. "Let's see if you're ice all the way down," he sneered and fastened his mouth upon hers. With superhuman strength she tore away from him and ran to the door.
"Auntie!" Bobby cried. "Don't leave me!"
For an instant compassion fought with fear, then she ran back to the bed. Over the child's head she challenged Tod to come one step closer. Blue eyes—red rimmed and wild—shifted and fell, and Tod sank down on a chair and buried his head in his hands.
"Go on," he mumbled. "Say it."
She touched Bobby's arm. "Go to my room," she whispered, and only when the door had closed behind him did she speak again. "Earlier tonight I'd decided to find a position up here, but now it's out of the question."
"I'd never… it wouldn't happen again."
"I won't give you the chance. I'm leaving in the morning and taking Bobby with me. After tonight I wouldn't trust you with a dog—let alone a child. You're a weakling and a failure and you'll hit out at anyone you can bully. If you prevent me taking Bobby I'll apply to the courts. It shouldn't be difficult to get a few people to testify about your character!"
"You wouldn't dare!"
"I'd dare anything to protect my nephew. I'm taking him away for good, too. Next time you hit him when you're drunk you might find yourself in prison!"
"So you're saving me, too?" Tod jeered.
"I'm doing what's best for both of you." With an effort she forced herself to speak calmly. "If you had a good housekeeper it would be different, but you can't afford to pay a full-time woman, and on your own admission you aren't willing to sit in with him every night."
"Will you? What about your work at the hospital?"
"I'll get another job. It will be easier for me than for you."
"If you take Bobby away from me, he's yours for good. I don't intend having a part-time son!"
"You don't mean that. Even you must have some feeling for him!"
"It's because I have feelings that I won't share him. Once he goes with you, he's your responsibility."
"Very well," she said quietly. "I'll accept it."
Tod stared at her and some of the bitterness seeped out of his face.
"I'm not the swine you think I am. Things went wrong for me and I couldn't cope. Janet tried to help but she was too weak… too nervous." He rubbed his hand down his cheek. "You're right to take Bobby. He'll be better with you. I'm no good for him…no good for anyone. I'll send you what money I can, I give you my word. I love him, Lesley. He's my son and——— "
Unable to finish, he stumbled from the room.
The next day Lesley and Bobby returned to London. It was not going to be easy to take care of him. The hospital authorities would never allow her to keep a small boy in her room, and she w
ould have to find an apartment and probably a housekeeper. She would telephone Martha Roberts and ask for some advice.
But there was no need to put in a call, for hardly was Bobby safely in bed when the elderly surgeon came to the hospital to see her.
"I heard you came back a couple of days earlier than expected," she said in greeting.
Lesley half smiled. "I'd forgotten the hospital grapevine!"
"Tell me what happened."
Eschewing all dramatics, Lesley did, concluding with her decision to take a job as locum to a general practitioner.
"You'll still have to find somewhere to live," Martha Roberts said. "A G.P. won't accommodate you and the boy. How would you feel about living with me?"
"It's wonderful of you to offer, but I couldn't accept it."
"Why not? You'd be doing me a favour. My house is too big and my housekeeper is crotchety. I need young company to stop me going senile!"
"You're not fooling me a bit," Lesley choked and fumbled for her handkerchief. "I've been so worried I haven't been able to think straight."
"Well you've no cause to worry now. It's all arranged."
More quickly than Lesley had believed possible, she and Bobby settled down to live in Chelsea. Bobby was everything a child should be—friendly, inquisitive and lovable, and within a short time both Martha and her housekeeper were his devoted slaves. Indeed they all watched over him so solicitously that Pat remonstrated with them one evening when she came over to dinner.
"You'll give the kid a complex if you don't stop coddling him."
"I can't help it." Lesley looked at Martha. "Don't you think he's rather thin for his age?"
"A bit. And he has a cough. I was wondering only this morning if we shouldn't take him to see Dr. Raye."
Pat grinned. "Two doctors in the house and you have to call in someone else!" She helped herself to some lettuce. "By the way, any news of your boyfriend? Or is he still maintaining a monastic silence?"
Lesley smiled. "His year's not up yet, and he said he wouldn't write to me before then."
"I bet he will. He's weak as water!"
"No, he isn't," Lesley said serenely.
"Don't tell me you're quarrelling over a man!" Martha intervened.
Rachel Lindsay - Love and Dr Forrest Page 3