The Spiral Staircase (23 page)

“She won’t,” grunted Nurse Barker. “I’ve fixed her.”

“D’you mean you’ve doped her, like-like babies?”

“Well, why not? That’s all she is-an old baby.” “But—it seems rather drastic.”

Nurse Barker merely grunted, as she poured out a cup of tea, to which she added several drops of brandy. Helen watched her, in astonishment, as she piled her plate with cold potatoes an thick slices of cold meat, smothered with pickles.

“Enough for a man,” she thought, as she followed the clearance of the meal with wide-eyed interest.

The spirit improved Nurse Barker’s temper for she held out the bottle, in invitation.

“Like a drop in your tea?”

“No, thank you.”

“You’ll need it before you’re much older. That guy has tasted blood. You saw how Mrs. Oates couldn’t keep off the bottle after she’d cracked it. She had to finish. He’s the same—only he’s a famished tiger, with dripping chops.”

Helen put down the bit of cheese she was nibbling.

“Nurse,” she asked, “why do you dislike me?”

“Because you remind me of someone I hate,” replied Nurse Barker. “She was the spit of you—a little skinny thing, all legs and giggles, with frizzed-out hair, like a doll. Only, she was a blonde.”

“Why did you hate the horrid little blonde?” Helen asked, with a spurt of her native curiosity.

“Because of a man,” Nurse Barker replied. “It was when I was a probationer. He was a doctor, and very clever. But he was so small, I could have lain him across my knee and spanked him.”

“That’s the attraction of contrast,” said Helen. “Were you engaged?”.

Her interest was not assumed, because Nurse Barker’s strange confidence had stirred up the sweetness of her own romance.

“Odd,” she thought, with a flicker of her submerged sense of drama. “Here we are—the long and the short of it—coming together over a cup of tea, because we are both in love.”

“Not engaged,” replied Nurse Barker. “Just leading up. It would have happened. But the blonde took him away from me, curse her.”

“What a shame,” said Helen, with real sympathy. “Shame?” Nurse Barker laughed bitterly. “It was my life. That was my only man. There’s never been another—never will be.”

“Were they married?” asked Helen.

“No, she threw him over. She only wanted to take him from me. But there was only the husk of him left. Nothing for me… . That’s why I hate women like her. If a man wanted to twist their throats, I’d say good luck to him.”

As Nurse Barker glared at Helen the girl shrank into her shell. Her desire to talk about her own hope was slain; she only sought for some way to avert the penalty of an unlucky resemblance.

“Do you know,” she said, “you and I have a. lot in common. We’re in the same boat. Men have always ignored me—because I am small.”

The greedy glitter in Nurse Barker’s eyes told her that she had swallowed the bait.

“Isn’t the doctor your fancy-man?” she asked.

“Of course not. That was only Mrs. Oates’ fairy tale. I’ve never had a real affair. I’ve always had to earn my own living, and I’ve never had money to buy clothes.”

“Are you speaking the truth?” insisted Nurse. Barker. Helen nodded, as she remembered the humiliation and neglect which had marked her girlhood. And Nurse Barker believed her, in spite of her likeness to the blonde, as she stared at her with penetrating eyes.

At that moment Helen appeared an ill-developed scrap—superfluous, unskilled labor—nobody’s woman. If she were murdered, she would not be missed, or mourned, and one more job would be released.

But, although she felt only contempt for the weakling, she no longer bore her a grudge.

As shetook up the bottle of brandy Helen gave a cry of protest.

“Please don’t.”

“D’you think I’m going to pass out on a toothful of brandy?” sneered Nurse Barker..

“It’s not that. But after what’s happened, I’m terrified. Suppose that brandy is doped.” “If it is, you’ll be left all alone. I’ll risk it.” She raised the cup to her lips and drained it. “It might be the best thing that could happen to me,” she continued. “When he comes, he’ll go for you. If I interfere, he’ll turn on .me, too.”

“But I’d stick to you,” cried Helen. “There’s only two of us left. If anything happened to you, I think I should go mad with terror.”

“It all depends on you,” said Nurse Barker spitefully.

“You are the weak spot. You’d double-cross me to save your own skin.”

It seemed useless to argue further. Unable to eat, Helen sat and watched Nurse Barker finish her supper. It was a protracted process, for she smoked between every mouthful.

The small room was hazed with smoke, so that Nurse Barker’s gigantic white figure loomed through a fog. Sometimes Helen’s vision played her a trick, and she appeared to spread out like a cloud. The atmosphere, too, was close and torrid as a jungle.

“I must keep awake,” she thought desperately. “If I take my eyes off her, she will disappear.”

Yet, even as she strove to concentrate on her surround ings, at the back of her mind was a desperate conviction that she was trying to grip something, which, even then, was slipping through her fingers. Mrs. Oates had failed her, and Nurse Barker would fail her too. But, at least, the night was passing. Apparently the same thought struck Nurse Barker, for she glanced at her little travelling clock upon the mantelpiece.

“We may expect him now, any minute,” she said. “I wonder what his first move will be.” Helen checked her shudder, as she realized that the bully was merely tormenting the new fag, in order to make her squeak. With a flicker of her old spirit, she made a sudden counter-attack.

“Don’t forget this,” she said. “No one seems to trouble much about me, alive—but I’d be mighty important if I was dead. If anything happened to me, here, tonight, there’d be an inquiry, and lots of publicity, And they’d hold you responsible,”

Nurse Barker’s eyes drew together, for she had overlooked this contingency, She had to depend on her profession for a living, and her reputation might be damaged if she had to undergo a gruelling examination at an inquest, and could not disprove a charge of cowardice,

“Don’t be a fool,” she said. “We hang together-What is that noise?”

Helen heard it, too-a low, muffled thud, from some where downstairs.

“It sounds like knocking,” she said.

“Don’t go to find out,” Nurse Barker warned her. “It may be a trick.”

“But I must. It might be Oates.” Before Nurse Barker could stop her, she had opened the door, and was running noiselessly through the blue room. When she reached the landing, the sound was clear and imperative-:—a loud tattoo on the front door, followed by the pealing of the bell.

Helen stopped. dead and gripped the balustrade—her brain paralyzed by the poison of Nurse Barker’s warning. The person who waited outside might be Oates, who had returned—sooner than she had dared to hope. Yet—for that very reason—she dared not stir.

Suddenly a new idea sprang to birth. Instinctively she knew that Dr. Parry was knocking at the door. In spite of his reassuring words, he had not been satisfied with the situation at the Summit.

Her eyes shining with welcome, she dashed down the stairs, just as Nurse Barker reached the landing.

“Stop,” she shouted. “Don’t open the door.”

“I must,” panted Helen, calling over her shoulder. “It’s the doctor. He promised to come. I must.”

She heard Nurse Barker’s heavy footsteps thudding in pursuit, and she tried to run faster. In spite of her efforts, however, just as she reached the swing doors leading to the lobby, she felt herself held in strong arms.

“Hush, you little fool,” whispered Nurse Barker hoarsely, as she laid her hand over Helen’s lips. “He’s outside.”

THE WATCHER

In spite of the conviction in Nurse Barker’s voice, Helen continued to struggle, She was positive that Dr. Parry was outside the door. It was torture to feel he was so near to her and yet she could not break through to him.

From the first she knew she was beaten, for Nurse Barker had her pinioned inside one arm, while she pressed her hand heavily over her face. The strength of her grip was amazing; and Helen could only kick—feebly, but frantically—with soft felt soles.

The knocking and ringing seemed to go on for an eternity. When it ceased, Nurse Barker did not relax her grasp, but waited, until she heard a distant hammering from another part of the house.

“He’s gone round to the back door,” she said grimly,

“He’s persistent. And so am I.”

Helen could only writhe weakly, for her sufferings had become physical as well as mental. She felt on the point of suffocation, from the iron pressure around her ribs and over her mouth. When, after a second pause, the assault was renewed on the front door, she had reached the limit of endurance.

“Go away, dear. It’s no good. For my sake. Go away. It’s no good.”

As though he actually heard her voiceless entreaties, which raced, in a circle, round her brain, the knocking was succeeded by so prolonged a silence that Nurse Barker released her.

“Oh,” gasped Helen, stroking her neck tenderly. “You’ve nearly choked me.”

Nurse Barker gave a short, grating laugh.

“So that’s the thanks I get. Pity I didn’t let him in. He’d have cured you of sore throats for a long time to come… . You are not worth the saving.”

“You didn’t save me,” Helen said. “That was Dr. Parry.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he promised he would come to me.”

Nurse Barker drew her bushy brows. together.

“You told me he was not your lover.”

Helen felt too low-spirited to protest.

“What does it matter-now?” she asked wearily. “You’ve sent him away.”

“Only this. It means you lied to me, just now. You tried to trade on my sympathy. And all the time you were laughing at me, in your sleeve.”

As Helen looked at the livid face, she remembered Stephen Rice’s remark that her personal safety depended largely on the character of her companions.

She .could tell by the congestion of Nurse Barker’s color that she had plunged herself into a hell of jealousy. Suddenly she felt so sorry for the vindictive, unattractive woman that she lost her dislike.

“I told you the truth,” she said gently. “It only happened tonight.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” Helen gave a little low. laugh. “But-it’s everything, all the same… . There’s something in him that draws out something in me. So, he must feel the same, or he couldn’t call to me. You understand, don’t you? It happened to you, too.”

In her eagerness to forge a link between them, she caught Nurse Barker’s hand. But the woman pushed her away with such force that she fell on her knees.

“Yes,” she said, “I know exactly how it begins. I know the end, too. A hollow cheat, with frizzy hair, like yours.”

“But it’s not fair to punish me for someone else’s fault,” protested Helen. “I’ve done you no harm.”

“And you’ve done me no good. You’ve been pert and insolent about my personal appearance. Because I’m tall, and my face shows character, you dared to compare me with a man.”

“I never did. Oh, do be friendly, if only for tonight. We oughtn’t to be fighting .like this.”

“Oh, yes, I get your angle. Men find small women more attractive, don’t they? But small women need protection. You’ll miss me when I’m gone, and you are left alone.”

The words struck a chill to Helen’s heart.

If that happened,” she said, “I think I should die of fear. But I won’t.”

“It may.” The woman looked don her nose, while a fugitive smile darkened her lips. “We have assumed that the Professor is drugged, and the cook is drunk. But how do we know that they’ve not been doped?” It was a horrible possibility which appalled Helen, as she remembered Mrs. Oates’ mumbled excuse.

“Who could dope them?” she cried….

“Someone might have crept in by the basement,” suggested Nurse Barker. “Things have been most peculiar all the night, just as if someone was working the trick from inside.” She added, with sinister meaning, “We shall know, if I pass out. I took brandy in my tea. I wonder if it’s that which makes me feel so dizzy?”

As she spoke, she staggered slightly, and passed her hand over her brow. Helen stared at her, speechless with horror. In spite of the woman’s venom, she clung to her as desperately as a drowning person clings to his rescuer.

Although her common sense reminded her that Nurse Barker was plugging at her alarmist policy in order to terrify her, events over which she had no control seemed to indicate some subterranean direction of the general withdrawal.

One after another her companions had left her. They slept, while she remained, to watch. In the end, she would be alone.

Determined that Nurse Barker should not have the satisfaction of knowing that she had drawn blood, she kept her head high and her lips steady. But Nurse Barker looked at her eyes and noticed how the pupils had swamped the iris.

Helen saw her smile, and was suddenly inflamed at reprisal.

“I can’t understand why you should grudge me my first. chance of happiness,” she said. “It’s mean. When I was hungry, it didn’t help me to know others were hungry; too. In fact, it was worse, for I always had bread, and could guess what it meant to those who had nothing at all.”

“Oh? So you’ve starved?” asked Nurse Barker.

“Not exactly. But I’ve gone very short, in between jobs.”

“That only proves you’re of no use. There’s a glut of unskilled labor. You’d never be missed.”

Again Helen glimpsed the blue star of daylight shining at the end of the tunnel.

“I wish it was tomorrow,” she sighed. “Oh, nurse, help me to come safely through the night.”

“Why? You wouldn’t put yourself out for me.”

“I do wish I could prove it was genuine,” Helen said eagerly. “I was a horrible little beast. But you’ve grown on me. I think I understand, now, how your doctor felt.”

Nurse Barker listened in silence, her expression enigmatic. In the pause the telephone-bell rang, with startling shrillness. The sound was music to Helen’s ears, with the reminder that the Summit was still resistant to the Hollywood tradition of the cut wires.