Love for the Matron (23 page)

He considered the question at length. I
’
m not quite sure
...
rather like one of the patients of old who was bled copiously or sent to take the waters at some fashionable spa
...
drained dry or purged or something.” He looked at her searchingly. “Are you happy, Elizabeth
...
really happy, I mean?” he asked abruptly. “I don
’
t think I could bear it if you
’
re not.”

Elizabeth steadied her voice. “It
’
s not quite as simple
as
that,” she said slowly. “Susan is taking it very hard.”

“Susan?” He sounded surprised. “I thought you were bosom pals right from the start.”

Elizabeth hesitated. “Perhaps I
’
m not being fair, but I think that if she hadn
’
t seen you kissing me that evening, she might have taken it in her stride.”

His face clouded. “So I
’
m not going to be allowed to keep even that?” After a pause he went on: “I think Susan will come round given time
...
but of course you and William may feel that that
’
s the one thing you
haven’t
a lot of at your age.”

Elizabeth flushed, and, she had difficulty in keeping anger out of her tone. “You make us sound like a couple of impatient teenagers
...”
she began.

Stuart interrupted her with a little laugh. “What? Not even a trace of passion? Elizabeth, I
am
surprised.
I
always thought that you were a Galatea awaiting awakening
...
and I had hoped you might let me be the man. Sorry, I forgot. I mustn
’
t make remarks to you like that now. Thanks for coming to see me, Elizabeth, but don
’
t worry your charming head over me.”

His bitterness hurt her, but there was nothing she could do except go. She had done her official duty and now there was nothing more she could offer. Perhaps later there might be friendship when he had got over it.

Elizabeth shook the r
ain
from her cloak as she stepped inside her own front door and stood her dripping umbrella in a corner. She glanced back at the way she had come, but the driving rain had blotted out St. Genevieve
’
s and she could scarcely make out the trees that stood along the river bank. She shivered as she heard a roaring sound, but it was impossible to tell whether it was storm or river. She shut the door firmly and went up the steps. Annie had built up a blazing fire. What a pity she couldn
’
t stay to enjoy it, but she promised William. Her duty lay at Castleford
...
with Susan.

With a sigh she slipped off her damp uniform and put it on a hanger. She glanced gloomily at her wa
r
drobe and then with sudden inspiration decided that a night like this was excuse enough for wearing her slacks and heavy sweater. William wouldn
’
t be there. Robin was out, most likely, and Susan if she were still in Sunday
’
s frame of mind probably wouldn
’
t even notice.

Once she had changed, Elizabeth felt warmer and somewhat comforted. It took only a few minutes to pack her overnight things in the little airline hold-all she had got for her trip to the Tyrol ... it was small enough to slip under her mac. She glanced down at her feet
... Wellingtons was the only answer And she could take a pair of slippers
...
her after-ski ones would do nicely.

She glanced at the clock. She had better hurry. Susan must be home by now and wondering where all her family had got to. Elizabeth put some slack on the back of the fire and arranged the fireguard carefully.

The wind almost swept her off her feet as she opened the door and she had to close it hastily behind her. The lamps on the top of the castle wall were swinging crazily as the gusts caught them and their creaking chains mingled with the thrashing of the branches and the general violence of the storm. Elizabeth was glad of her heavy clothing as she struggled along the path. It seemed an age before the darker mass that was Castleford loomed up ahead of her. A thin pencil of light came from the side door which had been left propped open with an old-fashioned doorstop. Elizabeth wondered if that were chance alone or Susan
’
s idea of an
unwelcome
.
There was a light on in the kitchen and she could see a shadowy figure outlined against the window curtain. That must be Agnes preparing supper
...
for three.

Elizabeth sighed. It was no use being cowardly and wishing that William was here to support her. After all, Susan was only a child and surely she had handled many a more difficul
t
case during her years of nursing ... but then her heart hadn
’
t been involved. She stumbled over the uneven step as she pushed the door open. She returned it to its original position ... it could have been left like that for Robin. The door at the end of the short passage was closed
...
that could have been to shut out the draught. Feeling so much like a thief making a forcible entry, Elizabeth went through to the hall. Beyond was the library door; it was open and she could see the reflection of the dancing flames, and a radio was on full blast offering the tunes of
Monday Round
A
bout
.
It could only be Susan and she didn
’
t sound as if she needed entertainment or wanted company.

Elizabeth took off her heavy mac, hung it over the back of a chair and wriggled out of her Wellingtons and put on her slippers. Still carrying her hold-all, she went into the library. Susan was curled up in a big armchair near the fire, the radio close enough to her so that she could twiddle the knobs, and the lamplight shining down on that glorious red hair, until even the flames of the blazing fire were dulled. One hand was supporting her head and she was s
t
aring ahead of her at some world of thought that brought a bitter twist to still
chi
l
dish lips.

“Hello, Susan,” Elizabeth said at last. The girl would have to know some time that she was there in the same room.

Awareness leapt up into the empty face and Susan scrambled to her feet. She pointed accusingly at Elizabeth
’
s hold-all.

“I suppose you thought you
’
d find Daddy here. Well, he isn
’
t! He
’
s in London ... so there!”

CHAPTER TEN

Elizabeth l
ooked down at Susan
’
s angry face and knew that lengthy explanation would be wasted effort. “I know,” she said gently. “He asked
me to come over; he didn
’
t want you to be left alone as he mightn
’
t be able to get back tonight.”

Susan
’
s thin shoulders slumped. “He didn
’
t tell
me
,”
she retorted.

“There wasn
’
t time. He didn
’
t know himself until just before train time.”

“I
’
m not a child! Anyway Robin will be back soon,” Susan made a final attempt.

“Are you sure he isn
’
t intending to sleep in his new digs?” Elizabeth queried quietly.

“Oh, I suppose he may be. Since you
’
re here you might as well stay. Like to see the paper?”

Elizabeth accepted the peace-offering tossed at her and took the chair on the opposite side of the fire. Susan returned to her own seat and curled up like a sulky puppy. She turned the radio down slightly ... a solitary concession to her guest. Elizabeth had almost finished reading the paper from front to back before Susan spoke again. “Would you like a drink before supper
...
Elizabeth?”

For a moment Elizabeth hesitated and was about to refuse when she realized that Susan was playing hostess at Castleford, perhaps for the first time.

“Yes, please, Susan.”

The girl got to her feet swiftly and crossed to the cupboard where her father kept the drinks. “Sherry? You like a medium one, don
’
t you?”

“Yes, please.” Elizabeth kept her voice carefully casual, aware that Susan would shy away from any attempt that she might suspect was being made to win her over.

Susan inspected the array of bottles critically until she found the one she wanted. She uncorked it and filled Elizabeth
’
s glass with a touch of her father
’
s competence. She handed the drink to Elizabeth and waited for her to taste it.

“All right?” she inquired off-handedly.

“Yes, thank you, Susan. What about you?”

“Oh, I
’
ll have a shandy, I think. Daddy lets me,” Susan said airily and proceeded to mix herself one. Then she lifted the glass slightly in Elizabeth
’
s direction. “Cheers!”

Elizabeth returned the salutation. “Cheers
!
”

Susan went back to her chair. “I went to see Robin
’
s flat after school,” she offered the statement warily.

“What do you think of it
?
” Elizabeth waited for Susan to supply the enthusiasm.

“Not bad. A bit bare and masculine, but he seems to like it that way. He was going to do a steak for his supper and I had to tell him how to cook it. Dear Emily never likes us going in the kitchen, so I had to sneak lessons from Agnes when she wasn
’
t about.”

“Do you like cooking?” Elizabeth began to feel that she was conducting an inquiry rather than a conversation.

“I like eating the results, but not clearing up the mess.” Susan looked at her and then demanded abruptly, “Do you ... I mean ... can you cook?”

Elizabeth risked light laughter. “Yes. I
’
m supposed to be quite good at it, but at the moment I don
’
t get much chance,” she admitted. “Either I have my meals with the staff or else Annie seems to leave everything ready. I
’
m afraid of hurting her feelings if I suggest that I would like to get a meal for myself.”

Susan stared down at her glass. “You will probably get the chance
...
here
...
and perhaps you could give me some lessons once you
’
re living
...
with
...
us.” Then without warning she lifted her head and glared at Elizabeth fiercely, her cheeks very pink. “I suppose next thing you and Daddy will be having a baby!” she flung the words at her guest.

Elizabeth went scarlet and unexpected tears stung her eyes and her mouth trembled slightly. “We haven
’
t even bad time to think about it,”
she said with utter honesty.

Susan
’
s face softened. “I didn
’
t mean to be beastly. It
’
s just that it
’
s all so mixed up ... I don
’
t suppose I
’
d really mind once I got used to the idea. It
’
s just that Daddy seems
...
old for that sort of thing
...
and yet lots of
m
en older than him have ... children
...”

A sudden sound, or it could have been the draught of an opening door, made them both turn abruptly to see William standing there looking at them; his clothes clinging to him in wet folds, his face pale and weary, but his eyes shining with the brightness of an unbelieving joy. Elizabeth knew that he had heard Susan
’
s words
...
and she was filled with shyness as she guessed the direction of his thoughts.

It was Susan who broke through the tension that held them all prisoner. “Daddy! You
’
re soaking. Have you been in the river?”

William glanced absently down at his clothing. “Not quite. It
’
s rain mostly and I couldn
’
t get the car to start, so I walked from the station.”

“A train at this time
?
” Susan asked sceptically.

He chuckled. “It was an earlier one that got held up. There
’
s a bridge washed out away north of the town. It must have been damaged in the earlier flood. Like to make me a hot toddy, sweetie, while I get out of these wet things?” His words were for Susan, but over the child
’
s head his eyes met Elizabeth
’
s, and the message in his sent the color flaming into her cheeks again.

He went away and Susan busied herself very seriously with the task of making her father
’
s drink. While she was waiting for the little spirit kettle to boil she looked across at Elizabeth.

“Shall I pour you another one
?
” She held out her hand for the empty glass.

“A small one, please.”

Susan nodded and obeyed, and then she glanced at Elizabeth again. “Do you think he heard what I said?”

Elizabeth hesitated and then decided to be honest. “Yes, I think so.”

Susan handed her the sherry. “Do you think he minded
?
”

“He was surprised ... as I was ... but I don
’
t think he minded,” Elizabeth said bravely.

The kettle began to sing and the conversation came to an abrupt end. By the time Susan had finished making the drink William was back. He had changed into grey flannels and a heavy sweater, and with his hair still ruffled from a brisk towelling he looked far younger than his years. He sniffed approvingly at the glass Susan handed him.

“My favorite mixture on a wet cold night.” He lifted his drink. “Well, here
’
s to all of us.”

After a small hesitation Susan lifted her almost empty glass and echoed, “
...
to all of us,” and waited for Elizabeth to do the same.

William pulled up the footstool and sat himself down squarely in front of the fire. “First time I
’
ve been warm today. Someone had told British
Railways spring was here and they hadn
’
t turned the heating on.”

“What about your patient
?
” Elizabeth ventured into speech for the first time since his arrival.

He glanced at her in amusement. “Oh, all she wanted was to tell me that she had decided to stay on and have a second course of treatment. She merely wanted my approval for a decision already made, so I caught the early train back
...
only it was late. Susan, is Agnes doing supper soon
?
I
’
m starved. I missed the lunch and the tea was only a snack.”

Susan sprang to her feet.
“I’ll
go and see. Daddy!”

William waited until the door banged noisily behind her before reaching out for Elizabeth
’
s left hand. He lifted it to his lips and then as he put it down again he cupped a small box within her palm.

“I know I should have waited until you were with me to choose it, beloved, but I couldn
’
t wait. We can change it if you don
’
t like
it ...
”
he ended on an anxious note.

Elizabeth looked down at the tiny box which bore the name of a famous Bond Street jeweller. “Is this for me
?
” she whispered.

“It isn
’
t for anyone else, darling. Open it.”

Elizabeth
’
s fingers trembled slightly as she pushed back the lid and her eyes widened as they saw the ring against its background of white velvet. “Oh, William!” was all she could say.

In the end it was William who lifted the ring out of the box and slipped it very gently on her finger. She gazed at it almost unbelievingly
...
at the blue sapphire nestling in a circlet of diamonds
.

William put an arm around her and drew her close. “Do you like it?” he asked in swift anxiety as she continued silent.

Her eyes gave him his answer as she lifted her
lips to his. As he finally released her Susan came bounding in.

“Supper in five minutes, Daddy!” Something in their attitude brought her to a standstill in sudden shyness, but William was quick to reach o
u
t his arm and draw her to his side. It was then that she saw the ring on Elizabeth
’
s finger. She gazed at it for several moments before saying reluctantly: “It
’
s very lovely.” Then, with a little rush of words: “I
’
m so glad you didn
’
t give her
...
Mummy
’
s ring.”

William looked up, startled. “But Susan, it was left to you with the other jewellery for when you
’
re twenty-one.”

Susan sighed. “I didn
’
t
know ... but that
’
s simply ages and ages away!”

William laughed. “Perhaps you might be allowed to borrow it before then, for special occasions.”

Agnes came in to announce supper and the situation was saved from anticlimax.

William stood up and offered an arm to both his women, and there was a suggestion of laughter in the air as the three of them tried to get through a doorway wide enough for two. They came into the dining room and Elizabeth saw that Agnes had lighted candles which formed a tier of flickering flames as they stood in tall graceful silver candelabra. Their reflections danced back from shining glasses and glittering silver and polished table and made a pattern that was warm and welcoming.

William glanced at the three laid places and saw approvingly that one had been set to his left and the other to his right. He pulled out a chair for Elizabeth as his guest of honor and when she was seated he conducted his daughter solemnly to the chair upon his left. He went over to the sideboard and began to uncork the bottle of wine that stood ready.

“Will you have a glass of Beaujolais, Elizabeth? Susan, you can have a small one, since it
’
s a special occasion.”

“Yes, please, Daddy, but shouldn
’
t Robin be here as well
?
” she asked doubtfully.

William poured out the wine with a steady hand. “I didn
’
t mean this was the official engagement party, Susan. You can call this a first rehearsal if you like.”

Susan glanced at Elizabeth, who nodded dreamily at her, and somehow that seemed to reassure the girl, who sat quietly while her father served the meal. When Agnes had withdrawn, William lifted his glass first in Elizabeth
’
s direction and then in Susan
’
s.

“To two lovely women. God bless them both!”

Elizabeth
’
s hand was trembling as she picked up her glass and her eyes were bright with tears of happiness. She saw that Susan was watching her anxiously.

“To William and Susan
...
two of the nicest people I know,” she said softly.

Then it was Susan
’
s turn and her voice shook a little as she tumbled out the words: “To both of you ... I expect you
’
ll be very happy anyway
...”

The
y
choked a little over their wine, but they were wise enough not to comment upon her limited blessing. William began to tell them of his attempts to get a taxi in London.

“I don
’
t know why it is, but whenever I change queues the taxis always turn up at the one I
’ve
just left. I suppose it
’
s the penalty for being impatient.”

Robin came in as they were having coffee in front of the fire, Susan presiding importantly over the tray. He seemed surprised to see Elizabeth there, but greeted her politely enough before turning to his father.

“Dad, the water
’
s risen another ten feet. They
’
re saying that they won
’
t risk letting any more trains come through
...
passengers will have to be taken by bus.”

“Cup of coffee, Robin
?
” Susan interrupted.

“Yes, please, Susie,” he answered absently. “What about the hospital?”

William refused to be perturbed. "The Mayor will let us know when he wants us to move the patients to the Guild Hall. Is it still raining as
hard?”

The boy shook his head. “It
’
s only drizzling, but it
’
s blowing like blazes. There
’
s a tree down across the path just before you get to the Gate House. How
’
s Stuart, by the way, Dad?”

“He
’
s a little better, I
’
m glad to say. I don
’
t suppose the flood will reach its peak until next week, with the full moon,” William said reassuringly.

“Here
’
s your coffee, Robin. I have sugared it, Have you seen Elizabeth
’
s ring yet? Daddy gave it to her toni
g
ht,” Susan burst out triumphantly.

Her brother gave her a startled look and then duly admired the ring,
b
ut there was something about his very restraint that pulled at Elizabeth
’
s heart. She knew she couldn
’
t expect to win their affection all at once, but the effort of not begging for it for William
’
s sake was hard on her self
-
control. Love in its beginnings could only be between the two people concerned, and it was only later that its overflow could touch all who came near
...
and yet theirs had been handled by so many almost from the start...

Agnes came in for the coffee tray. “Will that be all for tonight, sir?” she asked stiffly.

“Yes, thank you very much, Agnes, Will you be all right getting back tonight? My car
’
s still stuck down at the station, otherwise we could run you home.”

Agnes unbent slightly. “I
’
ll be all right, sir. A bit of rain won
’
t hurt. Good night, sir.”

William looked up at his son. “Under which roof are you sleeping tonight, Robin?”

Robin hesitated. “I
’
d like to sleep at my flat, if that
’
s all right with you, Dad,” he said rather self
-
consciously.

William, laughed. “Off you go, and if you get flooded out you, can always come back here.”

He waited until Robin had made his departure before turning to his daughter. “How about making up the other bed in your room for Elizabeth, Susan?”

The girl looked doubtfully from her father to Elizabeth and back again, but before she could speak, Elizabeth had broken in.