Sister of the Housemaster (17 page)

“
I remember,
”
he said.
“
You are a radiographer, aren
’
t you? I can quite understand you want to return.
”

“
I thought that, if I had just a rough idea how much longer I would be needed here, I might begin to make plans.
”

“
It is so difficult to tell. Your sister-in-law is a most unusual case. Any other person would have recovered from such an accident long ago, but there is some difficulty, which neither I nor the specialist can account for, which prevents her flesh from healing. Once or twice before, she tried to walk, and the whole thing broke down again; which makes me particularly anxious that she shall not tax the leg again too soon. I do actually think it is healed now, but with past experience to remember, I want to be careful. In any case, she will need some time to learn to use it again
—
remedial exercises, massages and so on. But we will see. She could begin by putting it to the ground for a while each day, but not walking or standing on it, you understand
...
I will consider it, Miss Southbrook, and see what can be done
—
both for you and for your sister-in
-
law.
”

Ingrid thanked him and went back to the house.
It seemed that, even if Sylvia
’
s leg was quite healed, it would still be some time before Ingrid could return to the hospital and take up her work again; but she felt that she would be more contented here if she could see a reasonable limit to that time. She realized herself that her attitude had changed. Last term, she had been so satisfied to stay. This term, a very busy one, with all sorts of exciting things planned, and with summer weather to look forward to, should have been even more satisfying, and yet something had gone wrong, some element of restlessness had intruded
into the serenity. There was no lack of occupation. Apart from the running of the household and the entertaining of Sylvia
’
s friends, there was the school
’
s Festival Week to prepare for. True, the annual examinations had to be dealt with first, and its shadow would loom over the first half of the term; yet even with examinations, the preparations for the Festival must go on. Festival Week was planned to coincide with the town
’
s Cricket Week, when the summer brought thousands of visitors to enjoy the sport and see the old, historic town. The well-known school contributed more than a little to the attractions. There was always a Shakespeare play, performed in the Chapter House three or four times, and this was rehearsed for most of the term. Ingrid had been drawn into this as assistant stage manager, and maker of costumes. The Music Society gave a chamber music concert, and the school band played light music in the quadrangle, as accompaniment to various Cathedral functions. Parents came to stay in the town for a few days, to be present at the performances, overseas visitors crowded the narrow streets, and the whole week was something to look forward to. Then why, wondered Ingrid, could she not recover the peace and serenity that had been hers last term? The doctor, true to his word, considered Sylvia
’
s case and decided that a little action would not be ill-advised.

“
Now, Mrs. Southbrook,
”
he said genially one afternoon, as he seated himself near her,
“
I think the time has come to put that leg of yours to the test.
”

“
Oh dear,
”
said Sylvia.

“
I should think you would be most anxious to get up off that couch of yours, and start leading a normal life again.
”
 

“
I am,
”
said Sylvia.
“
But I remember the last time we decided I ought to use it.
”

“
Ah now, think carefully. Who was the person who decided to use it? I
’
m afraid, Mrs. Southbrook, it was you who would not keep
off
it then.
”

“
I had nobody to keep house for me then. Now I have, and I am so afraid of repeating last time
’
s miserable debacle.
”

“
Yes, I know you have that charming girl to look after you. Therefore I should not dream of advising you to use your leg a moment before I thought it wise. But the longer you leave it now, the more difficult it will be to regain the complete use of it; so I think we will now begin to make a little more movement.
”

He proceeded to give her advice and instructions. To Ingrid, who brought in tea, knowing that the doctor enjoyed making a little social occasion of his calls here, he repeated his instructions, and asked her to make them known to Arnold. Sylvia saw that there was to be no getting out of the routine he laid down.

“
He seems to be in a great hurry, all at once,
”
she grumbled to Ingrid when he had gone.
“
He
’
s never even mentioned it before.
”

“
I suppose a time has to come when he first speaks of your further program.
”

“
I think it is too arduous. The thought of it exhausts me. I don
’
t think he has any idea what I have had to put up with.
”

“
I expect he has,
”
said Ingrid.
“
He spends his life at his job.
”

“
He
’
s lost interest, I suppose, and wants to get me off his hands. Well, I shall do just as much as I can do without exhausting myself, and no more.
”

It was apparent to Ingrid that the cure was going to take as long as Sylvia wanted it to take; but, in a small way, she could enlist the help of
Arnold, Laurence, Miss Everton, and Patrick when he could be here. She started with Arnold that same afternoon.

He came in soon after the doctor
’
s departure, and as Ingrid brought him fresh tea, she said brightly:

“
Isn
’
t it marvellous, Arnold, the doctor thinks Sylvia is so much better that she can begin on remedial exercises and start to use her leg a very little.
”

He looked at his wife with a pleased smile.

“
That is fine, Sylvia. He has been exceptionally cautious this time, so I know that must mean a very real improvement.
”

Sylvia looked sulky and annoyed.

“
Sylvia is naturally a bit alarmed,
”
said Ingrid.
“
I can understand how you feel, Sylvia; half-eager and half-frightened. But we will all help you, won
’
t we, Arnold?
”

“
Of course we will,
”
said Arnold.

“
I can
’
t understand why everybody is suddenly in such a frantic hurry,
”
complained Sylvia.

“
But my dear,
”
exclaimed Ingrid,
“
we want to get you better. This is such an exciting term. You must be at all the functions
—
Arnold won
’
t enjoy the play and the concerts and the garden party half as much if you aren
’
t with him. If you are better in time, you can have such fun
—
some nice new clothes, and Pamela and Patrick here for the Festival
...
But we must wait and see. We won
’
t rush her, will we, Arnold
?
”

“
I know how much you want me to get better,
”
Sylvia said ungraciously. There was a war going on within her. She wanted to get better for some reasons, and those that Ingrid had mentioned weighed heavily with her. She could see herself queening it at the Festival functions in ravishing new clothes which she certainly deserved after so long an
i
mprisonment, with Pamela and Patrick in attendance, and Arnold a person of some importance to fall back on. But she did not like to think of the other duties that awaited her; keeping an eye on that slipshod daily help, cooking meals, caring for Arnold
’
s clothes, shopping in the town. She decided that she would be the one to set the limits of what she could do and could not do.

There seemed to be a conspiracy among the others to make her exert herself. Arnold, Miss Everton, Ingrid, with Laurence
’
s support when he was present, all seemed to think she was bursting with eagerness to get back to her normal routine. They were ready to do remedial exercises with her, to encourage her. They talked constantly of the enjoyment the Festival week would give her, after being confined indoors for so long. Even Patrick, who arrived fairly often nowadays to spend a short week-end with them, fell in, unconsciously, with the plans of the others, and encouraged Sylvia to do all she could.

It was Patrick who supported her when she first walked across the room, his arm firmly about her, his pleasant voice praising her. Pamela and Ingrid were also present, watching, both smiling encouragement as Sylvia sank down once more on her couch.

“
Oh dear,
”
she said.
“
My legs are weak as water.
”

“
Of course they are,
”
said Patrick sympathetically.
“
But each time they will feel a little less like that. You have made a start, Sylvia. We wil
l
soon have you out in the car for summer picnics
—
we will make up for all your lost time. We will make some exciting plans for her, won
’
t we, Pamela?
”

“
We certainly will,
”
said Pamela.

“
It would be nice,
”
said Sylvia wistfully,
“
to get about with you both again.
”

“
Poor darling,
”
said Pamela.
“
I know what we will do. We
’
ll have a dinner at home to celebrate your recovery
—
just as soon as you can walk
say from here to the bottom of the garden.
”

Sylvia smiled delightedly at that.

Ingrid watched and said nothing. She was excluded. It seemed to her that she was equally and deliberately excluded by all three of them, for she could hardly know that Patrick had been Sylvia
’
s acknowledged friend for a long time, and was more likely to participate in friendly expeditions during the convalescence than Ingrid was. She saw only that the three of them were bound together, and that they were hardly aware of her present. She was hurt; hurt, she told herself, because they might at least have included her, if only for th
e sake of politeness, when she h
ad played so large a part in Sylvia
’
s recovery.

It was Patrick, too, who first went into the garden with Sylvia. Arnold was at the service in the Cathedral, and Ingrid was setting the table for Sunday luncheon. The french window was
w
ide open to the garden, and the soft, warm, June air filled the living-room. It was weeks now since the doctor had quickened the pace for Sylvia, and she was able to walk round the living-room, holding on to furniture when she knew that people were watching her. Today, Patrick had tempted her into the garden. With her arm firmly tucked into his, they had walked together slowly down the path to the bottom, and then had paused. Ingrid watched them from the living-room, and quite suddenly, Sylvia seemed to crumple, so that Patrick caught her in his arms to save her from falling. Ingrid at once dropped the spoons she wa
s
holding, and ran to his assistance.

“
What happened, Sylvia?
”
she asked, as she helped to support her,

“
Oh,
”
gasped Sylvia.
“
Legs all weak
...”

“
Can you get back, if we help you on each side?
”
asked Patrick.

“
We can make a chair,
”
said Ingrid.
“
Hold my hands, Patrick, like this.
I’
ve carried any number of patients like this. Sit on, Sylvia, and well take you back to your couch,
”