Love for the Matron (18 page)

“
How ill is Stuart?” she asked abruptly.

William lifted his head from contemplation of the crumpet he was toasting. “Quite ill. I admit I
’
m not entirely happy about him. There
’
s something about his color. You
’
d expect to see it in an old man with
‘
flu and complications of bronchopneumonia, but not in an active man of Stuart
’
s age. I haven
’
t had time to go over his chest properly and I
’
ve ordered a portable X-ray. Blast!” Gloomily he stared at the burnt crumpet and tossed it on to the back of the fire where it smouldered. “Give me another one to do; and this time, Elizabeth darling, don
’
t distract me!”

Elizabeth drew back slightly at the endearment, as if expecting the very walls to protest, but there was only the faint crackling of the fire and the soft sound of William
’
s breathing so very near to her as he crouched by the hearth toasting crumpets for their tea together. At last the little pile of crumpets was done to William
’
s satisfaction.

He drew his chair up beside hers and they drank cups of tea and ate hot crumpets and licked the melted butter from their fingers.

“You said you had something to tell me, William,” Elizabeth reminded him finally.

He turned and smiled at her and then the smile faded from his face. “First things first,” he whispered shakily. He reached out to her and drew her into his arms, and the fire that leapt between them was as warm as the fire that burned upon the hearth. He released her finally and put a hand up to smooth the hair that his embrace had tumbled about her face. “Oh, my darling, can this really be happening to us? Tell me that I won
’
t waken and find it all an empty dream!”

Elizabeth
’
s fingers closed around his. “If it
’
s happening to us both it must be true ... surely,” she ended uncertainly.

His strength went out to steady her. “Tell me, do you feel as I do
...
that this is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened
?
” He saw her face and knew his feeling was echoed within her too. He went on trying to find the words to express the inexpressible. “God knows I loved Mary, but it was the love of youth, fierce and all-consuming and often selfish. But this is different
...
it
’
s love stripped of all non-essentials, pure gold without the dross of stupid misunderstandings. Oh, I don
’
t know how to say it, but it
’
s as if having found the key to one another we already
know
all there is to know about the way the other thinks and yet it
’
s all still to be discovered.” He laughed ruefully. “A pity that the language of love wasn
’
t a compulsory subject at school.”

Elizabeth
’
s hands went up and she removed the crumpled remnant that had been her cap and set it on the table beside her. “I think this is something we
know
,
without finding the words
...
just as Mendelssohn wrote his Songs Without Words. It used to puzzle me as a child until I realized that such music sang for itself without the need for verbal expression. I can
’
t believe what
’
s happening, and yet I see it happening.” She laughed softly. “You still haven
’
t told me what you brought me here to tell me.”

“Haven
’
t I? Perhaps the other was just an excuse ... perhaps I thought you would go all coy if I told you the real reason,” William teased her gently. “Actually, there was a real reason. I realize that it
’
s all far too soon to talk about the future, but you know what Robin and Susan are like
...
on to things before they even cross your own thought. And I can
’
t be too sure that Dear Emily won
’
t spill the beans for motives of her own devising. I thought we might all go for a picnic on Sunday. If this weather lasts it will be ideal for a hike over the hills, and we can take a packed lunch.
If the children see us together
—
” He stopped
and Elizabeth finished for him:

“
...
They
’
ll guess what has happened and it will save our having to make a formal announcement.” A thought struck her and she gazed at him unhappily. “What if they don
’
t approve? They may think we
’
re too old or something.”

William picked up the hand nearest to him and began kissing her fingers one by one. “They
’
ll
just have to get used to the idea.
Nothing
will stop my marrying you, Elizabeth darling,” he paused uncertainly in his turn, “unless you tell me that you don
’
t want to.”

I
t was Elizabeth this time who reached out her arms to him and drew his head down until it rested against her breast; one hand stroked the dark hair, her fingers lingering over the silvered patches as if seeking to erase the troubled events that had left that mark. Then dimly, as if from far off, she heard a voice calling her name.

“Is it all right if I come up, Miss Graham? I must see you now.”

Before Elizabeth could answer or do more than release William from her arms Edith Selby was standing in the doorway, her face full of determined anger, an expression that slowly altered to one quite different as she took in the little scene before her: the two chairs so close together, the small crumpled hat sitting so forlornly on the side table...

“I wanted to see you alone, Miss Graham,” she said pointedly, and then her feelings overrode the dam of her self-control. “To think that
this
could happen in the Matron
’
s house!”

CHAPTER
EIGHT

William Gregory g
ot slowly to his feet and to Elizabeth
’
s startled eyes he seemed to tower over her like a giant. She realized that he was extremely angry—which was made more apparent by the very tightness of his self-control.

“You shouldn
’
t be in such a hurry to jump to conclusions, Miss Selby. I know we haven
’
t announced it yet, because it
’
s only just happened
...
but Miss Graham and I are engaged and we hope to be married in the not too distant future.” The sternness of his expression softened slightly as he glanced at Elizabeth. “I know I can count on
you to keep our secret. You see, we haven
’
t told our families yet.”

Miss
Selby stood there and they could tell she was struggling to sort out her mixed reactions, but the original anxiety that had brought her there was driving her to a decision.

“It
’
s all so sudden ... I don
’
t know quite what to say, but I suppose one wishes you happiness on such an occasion,” she said dubiously, and then she looked at Elizabeth. “I realize it
’
s an imposition to bother you at a time like this, Miss Graham, but I must know the answer
...
”

William made a move towards the door. “I
’
d better deal with my afternoon rounds, Elizabeth. We can make the arrangements about the ring another time.”

Before Elizabeth could gather her scattered wits together he had gone and she was left to deal with Edith Selby.

“Won
’
t you sit down, Miss Selby? I
’
m afraid the tea
’
s gone cold or I
’
d offer you a cup.”

“I
’
d rather stand to say what I have to say, Miss Graham, and I
’
m not wanting a cup of tea.” For a moment Elizabeth thought it was defiance driving Miss Selby: then she realized that it was fear, and all her natural kindliness came flooding to the surface.

“Would you like to tell me what
’
s bothering you, Miss Selby?” she asked gently. “Perhaps I can help you.”

The older woman sat down abruptly in the nearest chair as if her legs could no longer support the burden of her worries.

“It
’
s about Felicity, Miss Graham, the child you saw me with this afternoon ... about her staying, I mean.”

Suddenly Elizabeth remembered what had been written on that slip of paper among Miriam Brown
’
s notes. “I can
’
t think of any reason to change the existing arrangement, Miss Selby, as long as you want to keep it that way. There is nothing in St. Genevieve
’
s charter as far as I know that specifies that its beds musn
’
t be kept for certain cases. Felicity is used to being where she is and I can
’
t see the point of moving her at the moment. When she
’
s older you may have to
think
again about her future.”

Edith Selby licked dry lips. “What do you mean ... her future
?
” she asked hoarsely.

Elizabeth hesitated. “I know you haven
’
t reached retiring age, Miss Selby, or perhaps you intend to take Felicity with you when you do. I don
’
t know
...
that
’
s your own private affair. There
’
s another thing to think about. A lot can be done for children like Felicity when they
’
re in groups of their own mental level, instead of trying to compete with normal children, the way she is now.”

“That
’
s why she
’
s in the side ward; and we only put the gentler children in there with her,” Edith Selby interrupted eagerly.

Elizabeth attempted to hide her pity. “Then you
are
over-protecting her, aren
’
t you? What
’
s going to happen when you
’
re not here or on holiday?”

“I always stay in Shenston for mine,” the older woman said stubbornly. “I come in to see her during the rest hour then.”

Elizabeth hesitated. “Is she a relation?”

Edith Selby
’
s face crumpled. “She
’
s my niece
’
s child. When she knew the baby wasn
’
t all right she went to pieces
...
didn
’
t want to see it or know about it. Felicity was bo
rn
here at St. Genevieve
’
s. Miss Brown knew all about it of course, and she allowed me to keep her here. My niece is living in New Zealand now. She writes home to my sister sometimes, but she never asks about Felicity. It
’
s as if she
’
s willed herself to think that it never happened.”

“There
’
s a special residential school near Little Shenston,” Elizabeth said slowly.

Edith Selby
’
s eyes flashed. “I
’
ve visited one of those special schools, and I
’
ll never trust Felicity in one of them
!
”

“How long ago?” Elizabeth probed gently.

The other woman hesitated. “It was just as I was finishing my training,” she admitted reluctantly.

Elizabeth pressed her advantage. “I think you
’
ll find they
’
ve changed a great deal. The Matron at the Little Shenston one is a friend of mine. I
’
m sure she would be delighted to help in any way. You could take Felicity for a couple of hours at first and see how she gets on. It will be so much easier for Felicity if she tries it now, and she
’
s the one I
’
m sure you want to consider most. She
’
s such a happy little creature and you must want her to stay that way.”

Edith Selby sighed. “It
’
s been worrying me ever since you came,” she admitted frankly. “I didn
’
t know what to do for the best and I wasn
’
t sure what Miss Brown had told you.” She smiled for the first time. “I suppose I was hoping you wouldn
’
t like it here and would leave before I had to say anything about the child.”

Elizabeth laughed. “You might have known that what was good enough for Miss Brown would be quite satisfactory for me. Now I
’
m sure you would like a cup of tea after all that. I know I would. It will only take a moment with the electric kettle.”

Edith Selby didn
’
t stop her this time and Elizabeth went out with the teapot and quietly picked up her tell-tale cap as she went. While the kettle was coming to the boil she took the opportunity to comb her hair and subdue the flush of her cheeks with a touch of powder. She deliberately refused to let her thoughts dwell on what had happened prior to Miss Selby
’
s inopportune arrival. There would be time for that later
...
time to
think
about William
’
s startling announcement and to decide whether he had intended it as fact or as a cover story for Miss Selby
’
s benefit. She made the tea and found a tin of biscuits and a clean cup and went back to the sitting room. Edith Selby looked up as she entered. “I wish there were houses for Assistant Matrons as well,” she said enviously. “I know our flats are comfortable and all that, but they
’
re too close to hospital sounds. You feel as if you
’
re off duty with a string attached.”

Elizabeth tidied the tea-tray. “There are jobs going where the Assistant Matron is in charge of one of the smaller hospitals making up a group
...
‘
with house
’
. If you had a housekeeper you could have Felicity with you for holidays and so on.”

“I
’
ve thought about it, but there
’
d be so much explanation to be gone into that I haven
’
t done anything further.”

“I don
’
t see why. You don
’
t usually have to get permission to have a guest, and if Felicity were at Little Shenston most of the time
...”

“I think you
’
ve almost persuaded me, Miss Graham. The worst of all has been that there
’
s been no one to discuss it with. Miss Brown was so often ill and in pain before she went away that I didn
’
t like to bother her with it,” Edith Selby explained.

“Do Sister Moffatt and Sister Winsley know?”

“Not the facts
...
they probably think the worst,” Edith Selby said with grim humor. “But if I told it to one I
’
d have to tell others. It was simpler to keep it to myself.”

Elizabeth felt a deep compassion for the woman who had given up so much for another woman
’
s child. She must have often been very lonely
wh
ile car
r
yi
n
g out her self-imposed task. They drank their tea in silence, but the curtain of resentment that had hung between them all week had disappeared.

“I
’
d better be getting back, Miss Graham. I only told Sister Winsley that I
’
d be out for a few minutes.”

“I expect she will have coped with anything that might have arisen in your absence. She seems a pretty capable person,” Elizabeth said reassuringly
.

Edith Selby got to her feet. “I suppose she is. I
’
m so used to her that I can
’
t say whether I
’
ve noticed if she
’
s good at her job or not. Her fussing little ways put some people off.”

Elizabeth laughed. “That
’
s the bushel she hides her light under.”

Edith Selby cleared her throat. “I can
’
t begin to say thank you for being so understanding
...
about Felicity and everything.” She hesitated and then continued awkwardly, “I don
’
t know what you and Doctor Gregory have
thought ...
me barging in like that and saying what I did. I hope you
’
ll be very happy. It was just that is was so
...
unexpected
.
”

Elizabeth smiled and her eyes grew dreamy.
“
I
know,” she whispered.

Miss Selby blinked and took herself away very quietly. It was several seconds before Elizabeth realized that she was alone
...
alone to dream, alone to remember
... The telephone broke rudely into her reverie and for a moment she was tempted not to answer it.

William
’
s voice came anxiously over the line. “Are you alone Elizabeth ... my darling? Has that wretched woman gone
?
”

Elizabeth laughed softly. “Yes to both, and everything
’
s all right. We
’
re friends now.”

“You and Edith Selby? I can
’
t believe it,” William said incredulously. “I won
’
t ask you for your secret recipe ... there isn
’
t time. First, about our engagement I must apologize for not asking your permission first before making the announcement, but I had to stop the trend of that woman
’
s thoughts. Do you think she
’
ll say anything
...
about our being engaged, I mean
?
”

“Not directly, but she might suggest she
’
s in the know if anyone makes a remark about our appearing interested in one another,” Elizabeth suggested.

William groaned. “I
’
ve never felt so absurdly self-conscious about doing routine things I
’
ve done all my life ... but after I
’
ve seen Stuart—which will be round about six—I
’
ll come along to your office. I take it your secretary will have gone home by then, and w
e
can make the final arrangements about the picnic on Sunday. Oh,
Elizabeth darling, I do love you so very much, and it
’
s plain hell being stuck away from you, seeing patients and telling them they have
‘
flu
...
which they know already, and telling them to go to-bed
...
which they can
’
t because they have young children
...”