No Love Lost (11 page)

‘Have you no idea at all?'

‘None.'

‘Have you communicated with them in any way?'

‘No.'

His catechism had the merciful effect of annoying me and restoring my wits.

‘I can't imagine what they want,' I said briskly. ‘We'd better go and see. You can listen to the conversation if you want to.'

He gave me the half-admiring glance I had seen from him once or twice before and came awkwardly down the steps behind me. His experiences had crocked him very badly, I reflected. He must have been continually in pain.

I made for the telephone and had almost reached it when Radek came hurrying past me from the kitchen to answer the front doorbell. As he swung the wood open I looked up and all thought of the phone or the police went out of my head in a wave of dismay. John was standing on the step, his coat collar turned up and his shoulders dark with rain. He saw me at once and did not smile.

‘Oh, there you are, Dr Fowler,' he began with becoming formality. ‘Can I speak to you for a moment, please? I have a message for you. It's rather urgent. Will you come out to the car?'

I was prepared for Gastineau to protest and braced myself to avoid an introduction at all costs, but when he made no movement forward but limped back to the living-room I knew that the thing I dreaded most of all had happened. He had recognized either John's voice from the telephone, or his face from a photograph, and so from henceforth John was implicated however much I tried to save him.

Meanwhile, John had stepped into the house and put the rug he had brought round my shoulders. He said nothing but bundled me off and I was outside and into the car before I could protest. He shut me in and went round to the driving seat, opened the door, and glanced not at me but at the dark well behind me.

‘Well, this is the place,' he said cheerfully to someone in the blackness. ‘If you want Peacocks Hall this is it.'

I dragged away the shrouding rug which had all but blinded me just in time to see a tall, apologetic figure climbing out.

‘How stupid of me. Thank you very much, sir, thank you. Dear me, I had no idea we had arrived.'

I recognized that misleading helpless voice on the first syllable.

‘Very good of you,' it was saying. ‘I shall go round to the back door, I think. Thank you so much. Good-bye.'

He looked back, saw me, and raised his hat politely in recognition before he disappeared in the downpour, still clutching his unopened umbrella.

I think that was the final shock which broke me. I heard myself babbling, apparently from a long way off.

‘Oh why did you bring him here? Why? Who is he?
Who
is he?'

‘Here … hey, old lady, what's up?'

A very strong damp arm took a grip round my shoulders. ‘What's the matter?'

‘Where did you find him?' I was gibbering, powerless to control myself.

‘That old boy? On the road, just outside your cottage. He hailed me and asked me if I knew of a place called Peacocks. I told him to get in and I'd take him there. I shoved him in the back because he was so wet and I wanted to keep this pew dry for you.'

This reasonable explanation all but paralysed me.

‘But that's the man who was at Barton Square,' I chattered. ‘That's the man who followed …'

‘Stop it.' The flat of his hand caught me sharply across the wrist and the stinging pain brought me to myself. I heard my
sob of relief as I regained balance. The time-honoured cure of hysteria had saved another patient.

John's grip round me tightened and he pulled me to face him in the faint glimmer from the dashlight. The familiar bone of his face and the tones of his voice were sources of actual physical strength to me. I felt, absurdly, that I was home again.

‘Listen, Annie.' It was the name he gave me to tease me when I was in disgrace with him in the schoolroom. ‘I've had a chat with Rhoda and I know who your patient is. Tell me,
what is she up to
?'

‘It's not that.' I had got myself in hand again. ‘You must go at once, John. Get back to Grundesberg and don't tell a soul where you've been.'

‘Damn good idea,' he agreed. ‘We'll both go.'

‘No. This is serious, John. She's going to die.'

‘Francia?' He whistled softly. ‘Oh, I see what you mean.' There was no deep concern there. To my disgust I found I'd listened for it. ‘What's the trouble?'

‘An overdose of barbituric acid, various forms.'

I felt him go stiff at my side.

‘Hell!'

‘Exactly.' I spoke very softly and urgently. ‘That's why you've got to vanish. It's for my sake quite as much as your own. You do see, don't you?'

‘Coroner's inquest and stink generally. And me calling on you? Oh, Lord, what have I let you in for? Yes, you're right Ann. The only thing I can do is to beat it.'

I think it was my very silence which gave me away. I was so anxious for him to escape it all I could hardly breathe. He guessed. He knew me too well. His grip grew tighter.

‘Ann, speak up. Why did she take the stuff?'

I didn't lie to him. I couldn't. Besides, he'd have to know sooner or later. I moistened my lips.

‘She didn't take it. She had it given her.'

The words sank into the silence and their tiny echo hung in the darkness for a long time. John moved. It was typical of him, as I remembered, that in the face of real trouble he should become
quiet and gently matter-of-fact. He removed his arm from my shoulder and laid his hand over mine.

‘Just give the facts,' he said softly. ‘The whole thing. Start at the beginning. Don't try to go too fast.'

I gave up trying to resist. It was like telling myself. I went through the whole thing, keeping my voice normal, even conversational. It was just one doctor telling another about a case.

I hid nothing. I let every damning circumstance have its full value – the Dormital, Nurse's destruction of the bottle, the ordering of the ambulance, the visit to Barton Square, and the man I'd seen there.

He listened to me in silence to the end. Then he bent down and kissed the top of my head very lightly.

‘Added to which, you and I were discovered by old Dr Consequential lying in each other's arms this very afternoon.' He made the statement with finality and opened the door of the car.

‘What are you doing?' I demanded.

‘Coming in.' He leaned over the seat and hauled a battered leather bag out of the back. ‘I've seen a couple or so of these cases. I'd better stay.'

‘That,' said I, coming out of a trance, ‘is pure madness. You can't attend your own wife, John. You're jeopardizing everything.'

‘My dear girl,' he objected, ‘everything is jeopardized, as you call it. You and I might as well be in the dock this minute.'

‘I might,' I agreed. ‘I've realized that for the last half hour. But not you. You can prove you'd not heard from me since 1945, until you got Rhoda's telegram yesterday.'

He made no reply to that but continued his manœuvres.

‘Come on,' he said.

‘I won't let you do this,' I said. I was obstinate. ‘I refuse to allow it. I won't let you into this case and ruin yourself for my sake.'

He came round to open my door for me and bent to help me out. His face was expressionless.

‘Then perhaps you'll let me do it for hers,' he said distinctly.

It was the same technique as the slap, but applied emotionally. Even though I recognized it, it had its effect. It reminded me
exactly where I stood. A man had jilted me and made a fool of me, and four years later he had walked into my house and held out his arms. Without the faintest hesitation I had pitched myself neatly into them. It wouldn't be difficult for me to discover that I'd got exactly what I deserved for that. It broke down my resistance very effectively.

‘I must phone the police as soon as I get in,' I said. ‘I told you.'

‘Yes. Any idea what that's about?'

‘No. Unless this man you brought here is anything to – to do with them.'

John considered. ‘I rather think not. Better get in and find out'

We went quietly back to the house. There was no one in the hall and as he slipped off his wet things I got on the phone. I was answered at once by Sergeant Archer and he appeared to have been waiting for me. I recognized that catarrhal voice and was reminded painfully of our last encounter at the road accident, when I had been so abrupt with him.

‘'Ullo, Doctor, that you? Mapleford Division of the County Constabulary 'ere. It's a little matter of a dangerous drug.'

‘Yes,' I said faintly.

‘Dormital. I'll spell it, if I may.' The thick voice was heavily official. ‘D, Ho, R, M, I, T, A, L. One two-ounce bottle containing fifty five-grain tablets or cachets. Is that right?'

‘Tablets, not cachets.'

‘Tab-lets.' He was writing, taking his time. ‘Thank you, Doctor. Reported lost at 3.00 P.M. on the 12th inst. Sorry to bother you when you're busy, but records are records and have to be kept. Now it 'as come to our knowledge in a highly irregular way that there is every likeli'ood of you ‘aving found these 'ere tablets by this time –'

‘What?' I felt my scalp prickling.

‘Pardon, Doctor.' He was heavily polite. ‘Dr Ludlow was having a chat with our Inspector Brush and it was said …'

I breathed a little more easily. I saw what had happened. Percy had told Brush not to worry and Brush had told Archer not to worry, but Archer had seen a chance of getting his own back on the pretence of getting his records straight. I did not
even hear the end of the sentence. What I did hear was his next question. It came clearly across the line.

‘Have you in fact found these tablets, Doctor?'

Don't lie. Whatever you do, don't lie. Every instinct I possessed seemed to be screaming at me. I could have screamed myself, I think, but presently I heard my own voice, very crisp and formal.

‘Yes, I have. A few hours ago. Since then I have been very busy, as I am at this moment. I will make my report in writing tomorrow morning. Good-bye.'

I hung up and walked out into the hall. I felt as if the rope were already round my neck.

John was waiting for me, his dark-red eyebrows raised. I gave him a murmured explanation and he frowned.

‘Awkward. Still, the only thing you could have done in the circumstances. Lord, what a mess! Why is your old boss so anxious to keep quiet about the stuff?'

‘He has a horror of scandal.' I was looking at his face and I saw his wide mouth twitch and the flicker in his eyes. It was the most characteristic grin in the world, expressing pure humour, sardonic and his own. It brought the reality of his return home to me more vividly than anything else had done.

‘Unlucky man,' he murmured. ‘Now, where is your avenging lunatic?'

I pointed to the living-room door. ‘And the kitchen quarters are down at the back.' I said. ‘That man who came with you …'

He shook his head. ‘None of that is our affair. We're doctors, not policemen. Where's the patient?'

He was right, of course. I felt rebuked for even thinking of anything else and I led him up the staircase to the dark landing. Nurse admitted us with suspicious promptness.

‘There you are, Doctor,' she began with relief, but stopped abruptly as she caught sight of John. He followed me into the room and she closed the door behind us. I made a brief introduction, murmuring something vague about a second opinion, and they shook hands, but her eyes turned to mine with a question in them. She was far more jumpy than I was, and she had
not even begun to grasp the horror of the situation, poor darling.

I smiled at her as reassuringly as I could and we both watched John, who had walked over to the bed. It was a difficult moment for me. As must have appeared already, my trouble is that I am human.

I followed him slowly, Nurse behind me, every starched yard of her crackling. The bed was a pool of light in the shadowy room. Francia was still completely comatose. Her mouth was open, her flesh dark and terrible. Only her breathing had changed. It was shallower now and very fast. John bent over her, his fingers on her pulse. His eyes were mere slits and his face blank as a wall.

I knew that look. The mantle of impersonal professional interest had dropped over him, shutting out every consideration save one. The woman before him was nothing to him but a faulty machine whose troubles he might be able to cure. I guessed that he had scarcely recognized her. But at the same time I made a bitter discovery about myself. To me she was no interesting machine. To me she was Francia Forde, and while John was present so she would always be.

The routine went on. John scrubbed up and made his examination, with Nurse assisting and growing more and more approving at every stage. I approved myself with what was left of a balanced intelligence. I had never seen him at work before and I understood then why his career had been thought so promising. He had thoroughness and the authority of knowledge, and never for one moment whilst he was at work did a single extraneous thought appear to pass through his mind.

When at last it was over he straightened his back and his face was very grave.

I prepared to make my report to him. Nurse brought the tablets she had found in the sponge-bag, and I sent a flush of horror through her cheeks by describing the Dormital in detail. We went into the time factor and Nurse showed her charts. Finally we came to my treatment so far. John kept his eyes on my face, putting in questions and nodding at my answers, and all the time we might have been two other people.

As I finished I saw that he had become haggard. He looked older and even thinner. As I looked at him my own courage began to ebb. The nightmare which was the future settled down over me, more terrible now than it had ever been, since he was in it. Until John had arrived I could have forgiven the woman on the bed. Now, as I looked at her, I found I had not even pity.