The Stranger Came (49 page)

'So
you
decided
it
was
time
someone
did.
That
was
kind
of
you.’

The
woman
plunged
her
fists
into
the
pockets
of
the
cardigan,
looking
offended.
It
was
a
vulnerable
gesture,
which
had
the
odd
effect
of
making
her
seem
older
than
she
had
struck
Lucy
at
first –
in
her
thirties
perhaps.

'Nothing
to
do
with
kindness.
There
were
medical reasons.’

'You
talked
to
him
about
religion.
About
the
Crucifixion
.’

'He's
from
Lewis,'
the
woman
said,
smiling
as
if
that
was
enough
of
an
explanation.
The
unexpected
smile
went
away
like
a
curtain
being
drawn
as
a
group
of
nurses,
chattering
down
from
the
upper
landing,
quietened
to
have
a
look
as
they
passed.
But
for
that
moment,
smiling,
she
seemed
even
younger
than
on
the
first
impression,
as
if
the
sensible
shoes,
the
heavy
glasses
and
the
cardigan
were
the
props
of
a
part
she
had
been
chosen
to
play.

One
of
the
nurses
said
something
and
the
high
lightness
of
girls'
laughter
floated
up
to
them.
As
if
responding
to
the
sound,
the
woman
nodded
in
dismissal
at
Lucy
and
began
to
mount
the
stair.

'And
walking
with
me,'
Lucy
said,
though
the
woman
went
on
without
glancing
back.
'I
can't
help
thinking
that
was
kind.’

If
being
in
a
room
by
herself
was
lonely,
still
Lucy
felt
it
would
have
been
worse
to
be
in
one
of
the
public
wards.
When
she
got
back,
a
nurse
was
there
with
a
tray.
'You're
late
back,'
she
said.
'Time
for
your
nap.’

Lucy
unzipped
her
skirt
and
stepped
out
of
it.
Taking
off
her
blouse
she
was
embarrassed
because
the
nurse
was
watching
her;
and
that
was
a
good
sign,
since
it
had
not
bothered
her
when
she
was
ill.
She
put
on
the
gown
and
bent
to
take
off
her
pants,
then
sat
on
the
edge
of
the
bed
and
turned
into
it
modestly.
She
had
kept
on
her
bra.
Perhaps
the
nurse
found
her
carefulness
funny
or
was
being
irritated
by
her.
There
was
no
way
of
telling
from
the
girl's
round
unsmiling
face.
All
this
time
waiting
without
a
word;
perhaps
she
was
paying
no
attention
at
all,
her
head
full
of
thoughts
of,
no
ring,
some
boyfriend,
old-fashioned
word,
live-in
lover
more
like,
or
of
a
child,
a
ring
meant
nothing
now,
she
might
be
a
single
parent.
And
all
this
time
not
speaking,
just
standing
beside
the
bed,
without
a
word.
Lucy
wondered
if
the
fault
was
hers,
if
there
was
something
in
her
which
put
people
off
so
that
they
did
not
want
to
talk
to
her.
Weren't nurses, after all, supposed to be great gossips?
She
did
not
even
know
the
girl's
name.

'Are
you
new?'

'New?'
The
nurse
held
out
the
little
cup
with
the
tablet
in
it,
half
red,
half
blue,
like
a
bullet
in
party
colours.
'That's
right,
right
over,
wash
it
down
with
a
mouthful
of
this.’

'Perhaps
you've
been
on
one
of
the
other
floors?'

'No,
I
wouldn't
say
new.
Do
you
want
any
more
to
drink?'

'I
forget
things.
I've
been
sleeping
so
much.’
The
nurse
was
at
the
door
ready
to
go.
Lucy
said,
'I
have
to
be
awake
for
the
visiting
hour.’
Suddenly
she
was
unsure
of
what
day
it
was.
'There
is
a
visiting
hour
this
evening,
isn't
there?'

'Your
husband
here
this
afternoon?'
Lucy
nodded;
it was
none
of
the
girl's
business.
'Twice
in
one
day.
He's
faithful.’

'Oh,
yes.’

When
the
girl
had
gone,
it
occurred
to
her
that
she
might
have
been
one
of
the
nurses
who
had
come
chattering
down
the
stairs
earlier.
She
tried
to
bring
back
an
image
of
them
and
at
first
couldn't
fit
the
girl
into
it
and
then
she
was
there.
It
kept
changing
back
and
forward;
first
the
girl
would
be
there
and
then
not.
She
tried
to
keep
thinking
about
it
since
she
didn't
want
to
fall
asleep
and
miss
Maitland
in
the
evening.
The woman doctor had been kind.
She
should
have
asked
the
nurse
for
the
doctor's
name.