Love for the Matron (14 page)

“Don
’
t you ever wish you had gone in for one of the professions
?
”

He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “I don
’
t think so. I would probably have ended up thinking that I was taking the bread from those more brilliant than myself, and I didn
’
t need the money. You either have to have so much that you can really alter the face of the world with it or so little that you
’
re forced to scratch for living with your hands. Comfortably off is like being in the doldrums: neither the winds of great fortune nor mean adversity can touch you. I came out of the war thinking there might be a place for my talents, but in the post-war scramble no one seemed very interested in what I had to offer. They were too busy chasing their own crusts. Then I met you and there wasn
’
t time for worrying about it, but
...
you went away, and the reason for it went as well.”

Elizabeth put her glass down and sat up very straight. “Stuart, you aren
’
t trying to blame me for ruining your life, by any chance, are you
?
”

He seemed bewildered by her attack. “Not as far as I know, Elizabeth. I was merely trying to tell you why I wasn
’
t working for a living.” He got to his feet. “I hear Gladys
’
s fairy footsteps. Shall we go in to dinner?”

As he conducted her down the length of the room Elizabeth realized that it was L-shaped and that the base of the L was furnished as a dining room. Candles burned bravely in their silver candlesticks and admired their reflection in the polished table and glinted in glass and cutlery. Gladys served the meal quietly but efficiently and the food was hot and delicious and Elizabeth found herself surprisingly hungry, or perhaps it was the cocktails and the wine and the pleasant company. Stuart exerted himself to talk lightly and amusingly of some of his many experiences abroad. Elizabeth
’
s suspicions of his motives were buried fathoms deep and she had almost forgotten the reason for his invitation.

It was Stuart who reminded her when they had returned to their seats by the fire for their coffee and liqueurs.

“Has William said anything to you about Robin
’
s future?” he asked suddenly.

Elizabeth glanced at him. “Only that he had hoped the boy would go to Cambridge, but Robin wanted to do a sandwich course with one of the technical colleges and work in an engineering firm. Why?
”

“Did he sound as if he intended opposing the idea?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No ... only a trifle disappointed. Has something happened, then?”

Stuart stirred his coffee thoughtfully. “I
’
m not sure. Robin seemed upset, but of course he
’
s at the age when everything seems deadly serious
...
said he
’
d blotted his copybook and that if he had any sense he
’
d clear out and make his own way
...
that no matter how much he tried he always seemed to be putting his foot wrong where the old man was concerned
...
”

“William isn
’
t an old man,” Elizabeth interrupted stupidly.

Stuart glanced at her lazily. “Old man is used as a synonym for male parent,” he teased her lightly. “As I was saying, Robin
’
s suffering from a combination of inferiority complex and yearnings of independence. What do you think he should do
?
”

“Surely that
’
s up to him, and if it
’
s anyone
’
s business to advise him it
’
s William
’
s
,
” Elizabeth said sharply.

“William
’
s too close to the situation. Robin needs an outsider
’
s unbiased opinion—and that
’
s where you come in.”

“Me? But I
’
ve no experience of the difficulties of teenagers,” she pointed out.

“Time you had. Have you ever thought that if you had married your blue-eyed lover you would have a son of Robin
’
s age
?
”

Elizabeth put her hands up to her face in a blind gesture. “Don
’
t, Stuart!”

In an instant he was on his knees beside her chair, one arm around her quivering shoulders, the other hand tugging gently at her fingers. “Elizabeth! Believe me, I
’
m sorry ... I never meant to hurt you.”

It was then that Gladys rustled up to them to announce: “Doctor Gregory would like a word with you, sir
,”
and William was at her heels.

CHAPTER
SIX

How long W
illiam Gregory stood there gazing at them in embarrassed silence Elizabeth could never be quite sure. She remembered noticing that Gladys the housekeeper didn
’
t show any emotion at all before she took herself off, like a quiet grey ghost not all interested in the affairs of the humans she served.

It was Stuart who moved first. He got to his feet as easily and as casually as though he often spent an evening kneeling beside the Matron of St. Genevieve
’
s.

“Hello, William. What can I do for you? Like a drink?” He walked across to the tray without waiting for William
’
s answer.

Elizabeth picked up her glass and stared at it fixedly as if such an action would release the tension that was becoming rapidly unbearable. Apart from a curt nod William had ignored her presence. He accepted a drink from Stuart as impersonally as if it had been handed to him by a bartender.

He glanced down at his glass as if surprised to see it there. “Well, cheers,” he said, and emptied it at a gulp
.

Stuart stared at him in utter astonishment. “William, is something wrong?”

William put his glass down abruptly. “I was
looking for Robin. I thought he might have come here, but it
’
s perfectly obvious that he hasn
’
t been here
...
isn
’
t it?” He was biting off his words as if the utterance of each was a painful effort.

Stuart moved uneasily. “I saw him earlier today, but he didn
’
t mention anything about coming back. I expect he
’
s gone for a walk.” He hesitated and then went on. “I don
’
t know whether he
’
s said anything about it to you and it really isn
’
t any of my business, but Robin wants to strike out on his own
...
fight his own battles, live in digs, that sort of thing. I know I
’
m putting it all very badly.” Stuart stumbled to a halt.

William moved his shoulders as if to ease some burden that had become too heavy. “Why couldn
’
t Robin tell me all this
?
” he demanded miserably.

Stuart looked at Elizabeth for help, but she had none to give him.

“Because he
’
s afraid of hurting your feelings, I suppose ... because the two of you are too close ... because he doesn
’
t want you to feel he
’
s being ungrateful for what you
’
ve done
.
”

“Has Robin told you all this?” William asked after a pause.

“Not in so many words. It came out in bits, but that
’
s the gist of it,” Stuart said gently.

William lifted his head. “What am I supposed to do, then?” There was entreaty rather than anger in his voice.

“I don
’
t think you
’
re expected to do anything, William, other than tell the boy that you don
’
t object
...
give him your blessing, so to speak.”

“I see.” William turned towards Elizabeth unexpectedly “Is this what you had in mind when you suggested I remember myself when young?” He seemed to have forgotten that Stuart was there.

Elizabeth overcame her reluctance to be drawn into the discussion. “I hadn
’
t thought it out in any detail, I must admit, but speaking purely as an outsider it would seem that you have more to gain by letting him work out his future for himself. By standing on the sidelines now you avoid the risk of antagonizing him and
...
”

“Are you asking me to give up my son?” William interrupted fiercely.

Elizabeth shook her head.
“No ...
only suggesting how you may keep him,” she said quietly.

“I suppose there
’
s something in what you say
...
what you both say. But however right you may be it doesn
’
t tell me where Robin is now.”

Stuart glanced at his watch. “It
’
s early yet. He
’
s probably parked on a stool in some
espresso
bar putting the world to rights with his friends. There isn
’
t any
real
reason for you to be worried, is there?”

“No
...
except that he didn
’
t show up for dinner and he hadn
’
t told Dear Emily he wouldn
’
t be in. She was fussing like a wet hen and Susan had got it into her head that Robin was in a desperate sort of mood.”

“He
was
when he came to see me earlier, but he certainly wasn
’
t when he left. He had talked himself out and I doubt very much if he had enough energy left for anything very strenuous,” Stua
r
t said soothingly.

William sighed. “If he feels anything like me, he
’
ll be a limp rag. I must be getting old
...
these emotional upheavals do take it out of you, don
’
t they?”

Stuart held out his hand. “Let me give you another drink.”

“No, thanks, Stuart. I took that last one too fast. I
’
ll be getting along now. I
’
m afraid I
’
ve rather spoilt your evening by inflicting my problems on you both.”

Stuart laughed. “If you must know, the primary reason for this social occasion was the problem of Robin. It was worrying me, and I thought Elizabeth might have some useful ideas.”

William looked frankly disbelieving and slightly annoyed. “Was it? I must be on my way.”

As he stood up the phone went. With a murmured excuse Stuart answered it.

“Oh, just a minute. He
’
s here. William, it
’
s the hospital for you.”

William took the receiver. “Oh, good evening, Sister. What
’
s the trouble? All right, I
’
ll come over now. We
’
ll probably want to put a drip up.” He replaced the received. “It would happen tonight!”

“We
’
ll walk back with you, William, and drop in at Castleford. If Robin isn
’
t back we can do a scout round his usual haunts,” Stuart offered.

William
’
s expression brightened. “Are you sure you don
’
t mind? It would take a weight off my mind, especially as I don
’
t know how long I
’
ll be held up.”

Stuart fetched Elizabeth
’
s coat and helped her into it. “Ready?”

“Yes, thank you.” She was relieved that the problem of Robin appeared to have overshadowed the earlier tension and embarrassment.

They stepped out into a world of stars and moonlight: the river
’
s roar sounded more subdued now and there was only the whisper of the wind through the branches and the crunch of their feet upon the gravel. Elizabeth walked between the two men and felt strangely sad that she had been the cause of any hostility between them, but it seemed to be a matter beyond her control and none of her choosing. They soon covered the short distance between the Gate House and Castleford.

William stopped briefly. “I left the side door unlocked, Stuart. Help yourself to anything you want, and look after Miss Graham, won
’
t you
?
”

Stuart nodded. “I will. Off you go and don
’
t worry about us. We
’
ll see to Robin.”

Perhaps some undertone in Stuart
’
s voice caught at William
’
s attention and he hesitated for a moment as if about to say something, and then with a sigh he left them there, standing in the shadow of the trees that sheltered Castleford from the gaze of the passer-by.

Stuart waited until the sound of William
’
s footsteps was swallowed up in the other noises of the night before turning to Elizabeth.

“I
’
m sorry to have involved you in all this, but it seemed the simplest solution.”

“Of course we must look for Robin. William has enough to worry about as it is,” Elizabeth said without hesitation, and then wondered whether she detected a protective note in her voice.

Without warning but without haste Stuart pulled Elizabeth towards him and kissed her on the mouth. She made no resistance, but there was no response stirring and after a moment he released his hold.

“Am I too late, then?” he asked rather sadly.

Elizabeth sighed. “I think it
’
s too late for all of us.”

Anger sharpened his voice. “Are you so sure, then, that nothing will bring you down off your snug little shelf?”

“What would bring me down
...
off my shelf as you call it?” she demanded with some amusement.

“This!” he said impatiently, and snatched her back into his arms, rained kisses upon her passive face and only held her tighter as she tried to free herself at last.

Eventually her very lack of response killed the fire that had blazed up in him and he let her go. “I don
’
t know what the middle-aged equivalent of the Ice Maiden is, but you
’
re it, Elizabeth! Don
’
t you ever let yourself go?”

She had taken out her handkerchief and was absently wiping her face.

He caught at her hand. “Do you have to be so cruel about it? I
’
m sorry if my kisses disgusted you
.
”

She looked at the handkerchief clutched in her
hand. “I didn
’
t mean to hurt you. Hadn
’
t we better go and see if Robin
’
s back?” she said with a sort of detached common sense.

“I suppose so. I wonder if Susan is in bed, and Dear Emily.”

“I
’
m here,” said Susan, and stepped out of the circle of the trees. The lamp on the top of the castle wall shone down on her pale face, but her eyes were dancing with amusement. “I would have spoken before, but I didn
’
t like ... to interrupt you. Was it fun?” she asked in an interested tone.

Stuart made some muffled exclamation. He grasped her by the shoulders and shook her until she squealed.

“Don
’
t Stuart! You
’
re hurting me!”

He let her go. “Serves you right. You shouldn
’
t have been watching.”

She rubbed her shoulders where he had held her. “Why are you so angry?” she demanded. “Because you
’
re all het up or something?”

Stuart groaned and glanced at Elizabeth. “Susan, you
’
ve been reading too many books! It
’
s none of your business.”

But Susan only slipped her arm confidingly in Elizabeth
’
s and looked up at her. “Didn
’
t you like his kisses, then, or were you playing hard to get, Miss Graham?”

Elizabeth sighed. “I don
’
t think you should ask such questions, Susan. It
’
s not very polite for one thing and you should wait until you
’
re grown up and find out for yourself.”

Susan squeezed her arm. “That
’
s what everyone says
...
wait until you
’
re grown up
...
even Robin, when I ask him how many affairs he
’
s
had!”

Stuart exploded into rueful laughter.
“
Susan. One of these days you
’
ll get yourself into real trouble! By the way, is Robin back yet?
”

Susan shook her head. “No, but I think I know where he is. Do you want me to take you there
?”

Stuart looked at her warily. “Is it some low dive, then?”

Susan reached out her hand to him. “I
’
m sorry I was rude to you and Miss Graham just now. It
’
s a coffee bar where they have guitar players and singers sometimes. I
’
ve got my coat.”

Stuart still hesitated. “How sure are you that Robin is there?” he demanded suspiciously.

“As sure as I can be. I know he goes there most nights,” Susan said firmly.

“Shall we go, Elizabeth
?
” he asked.

She moved forward with Susan still clutching her arm. “We might as well. We
’
re doing no good here standing here in the cold.”

She felt that a chill deeper than any physical drop in temperature had settled on her. Stuart had shaken her more than she was prepared to admit, but not in the way he might have hoped. He had been hurt by her lack of response, but it had frightened her. She had been speaking lightly on the occasions when she had suggested that they were past the age for love. It was one thing to control a natural reaction to a man
’
s passionate gestures, but it was quite a different story when there was no apparent feeling to be controlled.

Susan had taken charge of the expedition. “We can take the short cut along the top of the wall and go through by Archer
’
s Lane ... it
’
s quicker,” she informed them.

“But that isn
’
t a very nice part of the town,” Stuart objected.

Susan tossed her head. “I
’
ve got my torch and you
’
re with us, aren
’
t you? I don
’
t go that way on my own.”

Stuart smothered a laugh. “Lead on, MacDuff.”

“It
’
s
‘
lay on, MacDuff
’
and it was a direction to start fighting
...
not to take them somewhere,” Susan corrected him scornfully.

Elizabeth was silent, because it was plain that the girl was too highly excited to be calmed by ordinary reproofs. The path narrowed and they had to go in single file, Susan leading, her hand guiding Elizabeth. Stuart brought up the rear, and it seemed an unnecessary cruelty to refuse to accept the fingers he slipped into hers.

As they came down the steep steps from the top of the wall into the shadows of Archer
’
s Lane Susan switched on her torch and the circle of light fell upon the leaning outlines of houses centuries old with queer little gables that seemed to reach across the narrow thoroughfare.

“By the way, Susan, does Dear Emily know you
’
re out? Stuart inquired idly.

Susan shook her head. “I expect she thinks I
’
m tucked in bed,” she explained calmly.

“But what if your father comes in before we get back?” Elizabeth asked rather anxiously.

“You needn
’
t worry. Dear Emily will be in such a dither that it will be simply ages before he gets round to that question,” Susan reassured them. “First turn right, now, and mind the gutter. The Corporation haven
’
t got round to modernizing this end of town, thank goodness.”

She switched off her torch as they emerged into a small square where a statue to some forgotten town father gazed down benevolently on the tomcats that skulked among the dustbins and the muddy patches of tiny gardens where daffodils struggled into life. Across the square there was a house that might have once been an inn, where the windows gleamed brightly and the strains of a haunting Neapolitan melody sounded strangely among those alien stones.

“That
’
s where we
’
ll find Robin, most likely,” Susan dropped Elizabeth
’
s hand and fluffed out her skirt with a quick little swirl of movement. “Come on, they won
’
t bite you.”

Susan led a reluctant Elizabeth and Stuart into a large room set about with innumerable small tables at which sat, or rather lounged, groups of teenagers all talking at once. At the far end of the room, where a space had been left clear, two guitarists strummed their tunes and sang wistful songs. Susan scanned the room with an experienced glance, ignoring the whistles and the remarks tossed in their direction.

“He
’
s probably upstairs. Come on.” Susan began to pick her way skilfully through the network of tables.

Elizabeth followed her and wondered if Stuart felt as she did, that this was a world completely beyond their ken.

Upstairs there was even more cigarette smoke, but the tables and the groups were larger and there was no music. To Elizabeth
’
s inexperienced gaze the teenagers all looked alike. Most of the boys wore their hair too long and some sported the early straggles of wispy beards. They wore tight jeans and assorted gay shirts or dark sweaters. The girls went in for hair piled high on their heads, white blouses, and either very full skirts showing the folds of many petticoats or else very brief, very slim skirts that scarcely gave them room to walk or sit down.

“There
’
s Robin,” Susan said suddenly. “Stay here until I find out what
’
s up.”

Elizabeth and Stuart stood silently near the top of the stairs and watched Susan making her way with nonchalant self-confidence through the crowd. Even in that dim room, where pretty girls were as plentiful
a
s buttercups, Susan queened it over them all with her tall slim grace and her hair shining like a newly lit candle. She came back to them after a few minutes and she was smiling.

“Robin says if we
’
d like to join them for a cup of coffee he
’
ll be ready to come back with us afterwards.”

Elizabeth glanced at Stuart. “We might as well now that we
’
re here.” She wouldn
’
t admit that in this place, where the central motif was youth, she felt older than she had ever felt in all of her forty years. She wondered if Stuart was suffering from something of the same complaint, but he appeared more at ease than she as they followed Susan through the maze of tables.

There was a bobbing movement around the table where Robin was sitting that could have been a passing gesture to their advanced years. Robin made an attempt at introductions, but there was no mention of surnames other than theirs, and if the informality was startling at first she soon realized that anything else would have been more so. The conversation limped a little at first as if their presence had formed a temporary dam to its spate, but once the cups of coffee were passed round Stuart and Elizabeth found themselves included, although on an argumentative footing.

“Elizabeth, what do you think is the main difference between us and the teenager equivalent in your day?” demanded a girl call Jean who sat across from her.

Elizabeth glanced around the table at the group. “A slight difference in hair style
perhaps,
and I think the girls are more feminine now. I know there
’
s a lot of talk now about juvenile delinquency, but I think there was probably more then; and it was more frightening, because it was not so publicized
...
you only picked up whispers of it. Today it
’
s all more in the open and reduced to statistics. The only drawback to that treatment is that it makes the young people concerned feel important, whereas they might have got tired of posing and got over it faster.” Elizabeth knew she was talking at too great length and realized that she had travelled a long way from the short snappy debates she had delighted in.