Love for the Matron (20 page)

She found herself upon her own doorstep without realizing she had come so far, and the Matron
’
s house looked dark and empty and lonely. She shrugged away her thoughts and turned on the lights, poked the fire into
blazing life and
plugged in the kettle. She made herself change out of uniform, but at the last moment weakened and put on a warm housecoat instead of the pretty frock she had taken from the wardrobe. With the tea-
t
ray beside her and a book that had come from the book club only this morning she settled down by the fire. First it was the silence that pressed against her aching senses and she fiddled with the radio until she found a program that gave her music that was light and gay and
full
of youth and
...
love. After three love lyrics in a row, the last suggesting that
I Can
’
t Live Without You,
she decided that silence was preferable and concentrated on her book. But how could her attention be held by these pages when what had happened to her today was far more real and exciting and lovely and wonderful than trivial words printed upon a piece of paper?

So until it was time to switch on for the eleven o
’
clock news summary she sat back in her chair and stared into the flickering flames, recapturing again and again the enchanted wonder of it all.

She listened to the news and remembered to note the weather forecast for the week-end
...
long bright periods with a few scattered showers towards evening. To
Music At Night
she got ready for bed, and by now she was pleasantly sleepy and relaxed and the troubles of the day seemed far away and unimportant.

She was about to take off her slippers and get into bed when the phone jangled suddenly
.
Her hand went out to pick it up rather rebelliously, but as she heard William
’
s voice at the other end her mouth softened into a smile.

“Did I wake you, darling?”

“I wasn
’
t in bed yet,” she answered truthfully.

He laughed. “Good. I just wanted to ring you up and say good night and sweet dreams.” He sighed. “I
’
ve been wishing all evening that I hadn
’
t been so strong-minded, and I did weaken as far as coming out to phone you now. I
’
ve got so self-conscious now that I
’
ve managed to convince myself that not only is Dear Emily watching my every thought but Robin and Susan as well.”

I forgot to tell you that Susan phoned me just before I came back on duty. She certainly didn
’
t suspect anything then,” Elizabeth hastened to reassure him.

He sighed again. “I expect it
’
s only my imagination. After all they
’
ll have to know some time, but I prefer they hear it from us together and not from some garbled and possibly hostile source. However
,
sweetheart, I didn
’
t ring you to tell you my worries, real or fancied, but to wish you good night and sweet dreams and to leave my love with you in safe keeping.”

“The same to you, darling,” Elizabeth said softly, wishing that she were more expert in the language of love.

“Do you know that when you said what you did in your office tonight
...
that you loved me ... if I hadn
’
t been a senior physician I would
have put my head on my hands and howled like a lovesick schoolboy for the
sheer
joy of it?”
He chuckled.
“
I
’
d better go now. Sleep well, darling.”

“And you.”

The line went dead between them, but love could ignore such physical limitations. Elizabeth put the receiver back on its rest and got into bed and turned off the light. She no longer felt that she was alone in an empty house. Every whispered sound, whether swish of curtain against windowsill or bran
c
h rubbing against branch or sleepy bird chirping plaintively, all blended into a song of love that beat against her ears as gentle as thistledown floating on the wind and lulled her into happy contentment until she drifted into dreamless slumber.

Sunday came in
on the wings of a dying storm
that had lashed at the green banners of spring all through the Saturday. Elizabeth saw tumbled daffodils lying on the grass and early blossoms scattered like a bridal
ca
rpet on the path as she walked in the direction of Castleford. The air was still, cool, but the sun held a hint of warmth to come and Elizabeth glanced down at her heavy tailored-slacks and her thick sweater and mac on her arm: the pair Of Wellingtons dangled from one mitted hand.

Susan rushed out to meet her and threw her arms around Elizabeth. “It
’
s going to be a wonderful day. Doesn
’
t the air smell gorgeous? Dear Emily has cut dozens of sandwiches and dripped bad temper over them all, but we don
’
t care, do we? She
’
s only a tiresome old woman these past few days. Robin and Daddy are getting the car out and putting rugs and Thermoses in the boot. Dear Emily has made us mugs of coffee to have now, so come and have a warm by the fire. I do like your slacks
...
they make you look so slim and elegant.” Susan patted her own green tartan trews with a disparaging hand. “These are as old
as the hills, but Daddy never remembers that clothes wear out or daughters grow taller or faster or thinner!”

“Haven
’
t you got an allowance, then?” Elizabeth slipped the sentence into the first gap.

“Allowance? He
’
s only just heard about pocket money,” Susan said with lofty scorn. “I don
’
t mean he isn
’
t generous—he is—but not regularly, and how can a girl plan her wardrobe if she doesn
’
t know ahead what
’
s coming in
?
I ask you! I
’
ve got a sneaking suspicion that he thinks school uniforms are clothes ... Sh-sh
...
here he comes ... I don
’
t want to hurt the old dear
’
s feelings.”

Elizabeth followed Susan into the library and managed to smother the laughter and indignation that was struggling within her ... to hear the man she loved described as
the old dear
!
For the first time it struck her that there would be a new relationship to be built up between herself
and
this bright-haired, talkative, loveable child with her father
’
s clear hazel eyes and her mother
’
s coloring—the mother that Susan didn
’
t remember and Elizabeth had never known. For a brief moment blinding resentment filled her that anyone else should have to be concerned in her love for William
...
that she would have to share him with two children she hadn
’
t mothered, whose claims had been born long before she had met him; and that upon their whimsy might rest the future happiness of William and herself.

Then William came in. She forgot all else at the remembered sight of him and she saw the love-light leap into his eyes before he managed to subdue it behind his custom
a
ry quiet friendliness. She was aware of a new self
-
consciousness in his manner and noticed that his hand trembled slightly as he handed her a mug of coffee; humility flooded through her that she should have so much pow
e
r
to stir a man like William. Robin came in and gave her a quick shy grin as if not quite sure whether to remind her of the circumstances of the last evening she had been here at Castleford.

“Drink up, everyone, it
’
s late already.” Susan swung her empty mug on one finger.

Robin reached out a long brotherly arm and rescued it. “No wonder I can never find enough mugs when I have my friends in. Isn
’
t it time you grew up?”

“I am—an inch every month.
I
’
ll soon be up to your shoulder.” Susan marched over and ranged herself up against her brother in a swift movement that jostled his coffee and a shower of coffee settled amongst her curls.

“Serves you right!” Robin gulped down what was left of his coffee before anything else could happen to it. He glanced at his father. “Why isn
’
t Dear Emily coming with us, as usual?”

“Beca
u
se she says she has something better to do,” William answered calmly. “Have you told Elizabeth about your new digs? Go on out to the ear, all of you. I want to ring the hospital.”

Susan stopped dead. “Daddy! Please don
’
t! You know they
’
ll only think of some reason to keep you, and you have done a round this morning.”

William looked at her pleading face. “All right, poppet. I
’
ll have a word with Dear Emily just in case.”

Elizabeth walked ahead with Robin. “When do you move in
...
or should I say out?”

He laughed. “Next week, but it
’
s a bit of both, because there
’
s not a lot of storage space and I
’
ll have to keep
a lot of my stuff here.”

Elizabeth looked at his shining face. “How big is it, then?”

He gestured with his hands. “Oh, smaller than the library. It
’
s a bed-sitter really, but the bed is a divan so it doesn
’
t seem too bedroomy and there
’
s a gas ring and grill and cooking things tucked behind a screen in one corner. It
’
s not much but it
’
s mine own.” He glanced at her rather shyly. “I guess I have to thank you for part of it
...
at least you and Stuart together. I don
’
t know whether Dad told you, but the job at the engineering factory has materia
li
zed, so I
’
ll be there with one night at Tech until the sandwich course proper begins next September.” He stretched out his arms and in an impulsive gesture towards the heavens. “It
’
s wonderful getting everything at once like this
...
like a whole lot of birthdays all rolled into one.” He opened the car door. “You
’
d better sit in front with Dad since you
’
re the guest of honor. Susan! Stop that messing about and get in, and you can leave that mud behind.”

Susan made a face at her brother, but scraped the mud off her shoes with a small stick and only got a little of it on her hands. Then William was with them. It wasn
’
t until they were all in the car that Elizabeth saw that his face was tight with suppressed anger.

Under cover of the engine starting up and the noisy conversation that was going on in the back seat she managed to whisper, “Was it Dear Emily?”

He nodded curtly. “It was.
I
’
ll
tell you later.” Even that tiny gesture of sharing seemed to dissolve some of his anger and by the time he had manoeuvred the big car through the twisting streets of Shenston and they were crossing one of the many bridges he was himself again.

He pointed to the river. “You wouldn
’
t think it had been washing up against the girders less than a week ago. Some are afraid of the river and call it terrifying. I think it calls for a more biblical term like awesome, don
’
t you
?
”

Before Elizabeth could answer Susan had broken in.

“I know it
’
s Sunday, Daddy, but we get enough churchy words at school.”

There was a little silence and Elizabeth saw that William was struggling with the sam
e
resentment against outside encroaching that she felt herself earlier.

“I
’
ve t
o
ld you before, Susan, not to interrupt grown-ups
’
conversation,” he began, but stopped at the sight of Susan
’
s hurt face. He turned his concluding words into a joke. “I must remember to bring a placard next time with
Don
’
t Interrupt
on it as a gentle reminder.”

The car began climbing up a narrow twisting road. William was too busy with his driving to indulge in the pleasure of telling Elizabeth about this part of the country, which was new to her ... he would have to bring her again when they could be alone. Finally they emerged upon a high tilted windswept moor where bracken clustered around clumps of boulders that must have tumbled from the heights above in some bygone age. A narrow pat
h
wound its steep way across the common and
u
p and
u
p until it seemed to lose itself among the wild cliffs, where stunted trees clung and birds whirled in stiff-winged flight upon the air currents that took them almost to the edge of space before they plummeted earthwards again with carefree abandon.

They scrambled out of the car and Robin distributed fair loads among them. “We
’
ll leave the second lot of Thermoses for when we get back, eh, Dad?” he asked.

William nodded absently. He was busy showing Elizabeth how to adjust the strap of the beach bag so it couldn
’
t cut into her shoulder, Robin glanced at them and then started slowly up the steep path. William followed him and Elizabeth fell into place behind him. Susan observed no strict order at all. One moment she would be racing ahead of Robin to show him something or dropping back to scramble beside her father, or she would see something that would interest her
and
she would fly off at a tangent. Sometimes William would give Elizabeth a helping hand over a rough place or he would turn and find that it was his daughter
’
s hot fingers grasping his. They were a lighthearted party and the sun shone with increasing warmth from a nearly cloudless sky the birds sang their spring symphonies with all the fervor their small throats were capable of. William seemed to have tossed aside his usual quiet solemnity and often the face he turned towards Elizabeth was full of laughing messages for her alone and the touch of his hand sent a tingling awareness of him through every fibre of her body.

They were more than halfway up to the top by now. Robin was drawing steadily ahead. Susan was somewhere out of sight on some errand of her own. William and Elizabeth were walking a handsbreath apart when she stumbled slightly and instantly his arm went out to steady her. He made a little sound that was half sigh and half groan, pulled her to him swiftly and kissed her with all the yearning he possessed.

How long they stood there lost to time and surroundings was something neither knew, and only a sudden shout from Susan from somewhere quite close at hand wrenched them apart and back to reality.

“I
’
d better see what she
’
s up to,” William said hurriedly.

Elizabeth remained where she was and watched him climbing strongly up the steep slope until he rounded a corner and was lost to sight. She sighed and started to follow when there was a rustle and a thump as Susan dropped to the path beside her.