The year of the virgins (16 page)

in the picture as to your wife's progress and what might impede it . . .'

As he paused Daniel put in, 'And what is that?'

'Well' - it was the matron who now took up the conversation - 'I'm afraid Mr Coulson, it is yourself; you know what happened the last time she saw you. Well now, it's any mention of your name or that of your son that puts her . . . well, puts her back, we'll say. The only persons she seems to appreciate a visit from are her sister and her friend.' And the doctor, nodding in agreement, said, 'It's strange, isn't it? We had thought that in her condition she would be against all men, but it seems no, for the twice he has been here she has greeted him quite normally, and there has been no reaction. Otherwise she has progressed in that she no longer goes into tantrums; in fact, she has responded to treatment amazingly well. So, what we think Mr Coulson, is that it would be better if she doesn't see you for a while but that her sister could, if possible, visit her more frequently. Up till your last visit we had hopes that she would soon be well enough to go home, at least for a day or even a week-end. That won't be possible, I'm afraid. We are sorry about this.'

'Oh, you needn't be sorry; I quite understand. But tell me: if her attitude towards me and the mention of her family upsets her like this, how long do you imagine that it will go on?'

'Oh, that is hard to say in these cases,' the doctor answered. 'It's a time-taking business. We are hoping that she will respond to the electric treatment in that it will eventually tone down, if not obliterate, her animosity towards you.'

Daniel made no comment, but his thoughts were: only death would obliterate her hate of him. He rose to his feet

now, saying, 'It will be better if I don't come at all then?'

'For the time being.' The doctor moved towards him. 'But as I said, if her sister could come more frequently it might be helpful.'

'She lives in London. It would be impossible for her to come up every week.'

'Well, as often as she possibly can would be appreciated.'

'I'll ask her. Thank you.' And he nodded to one then the other and went out.

In the hall, Flo was standing at the window watching Harvey talking to a patient. She turned at Daniel's approach, saying, 'Isn't it sad? She's been talking to him, that woman out there, quite normally, as normal as you or I, more so I should say; then she asked him if he would like to go out and see the garden.'

Daniel's mind was not at the moment sensitive to such feelings, and he said abruptly, 'They don't want me to visit her again, but they're asking you to come more often. How about it?'

Flo paused for a moment; then shrugging her shoulders, she said, 'Yes, it's all right. We may not be able to manage it every week, but we'll try. Anything to help her. May I go to see her now?'

'Yes. Yes, I suppose so.'

She was turning away when she stopped and said, 'You shouldn't be surprised at her not wanting to see you, Daniel.'

'No, I shouldn't. I don't know why I come.'

'Because you feel it's your duty, I suppose.'

'Yes, I suppose so. But now, apparently, I'm relieved of it and the burden's been passed to you.'

'Oh, don't look at it that way. Anyway, we'll talk about it later.'

When she was gone he stared through the window, to see Harvey was now strolling with the woman; then presently he went out and joined them.

'Oh, there you are.' Harvey did not go on to ask why he wasn't visiting Winifred, but said, 'This is Mrs Deebar.'

The lady in question, who was in her early sixties, leaned forward towards Harvey and, smiling broadly, she said, 'You haven't got it right. It's De . . . bar. It's not like the De in Debrett.'

'Oh, I'm sorry.' Harvey now turned to Daniel, saying, 'Mrs Debar is a novelist. She's had a book published called - ' He paused and looked at the woman, and she, still smiling a very sweet smile, said, 'Manners and Decorum in The Victorian Era.'

Daniel made the required motion with his head now, saying, 'That sounds very interesting,' to which the lady replied, 'Well, one tries one's best. I've had a lot of help from Mr Disraeli.'

Daniel and Harvey exchanged glances. They said nothing, but continued to look at the lady. And she, turning to and giving all her attention to Harvey, said, 'Thank you for your company. It isn't often one has the opportunity to meet and converse with the uncivilised, but it is nevertheless very enlightening, even instructive. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm expecting Mr Macmillan to tea. Good day, gentlemen.'

They each muttered something that was inaudible, then watched her walking, in fact, tripping between the flower beds and across the drive towards the main door. Not until she had disappeared did they look at one another; and then it was Harvey whose voice held a chuckle as he muttered, 'I... I should have guessed, I suppose. But she was talking as sanely as you or I.'

'God help her!'

'Oh, I don't think you need to be sorry for her. If it could be analysed I think she's happier in her world than we are in ours. You only had to look at her face; it was quite serene. And -' his voice taking on a sad note now he said, 'She must have been quite beautiful in her day. But that last bit' - he chuckled - ' "uncivilised". Well, it's only what a great many still think, I suppose.'

As they both turned to go back inside, Harvey asked, 'What has happened?'

'Something that mightn't please you. Apparently the onus is going to be on Flo. They've worked it out that the sight of me only makes matters worse, and that the only one they think it advisable for her to see is Flo.'

'Well, I can see no obstacle to that. It's all right with me. I certainly don't mind coming; in fact, I'm glad to get away from London.'

'But you don't know how long it's going to last.'

'Well, we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? But if that's all you've got to worry about, Daniel, you can stop now. As you know, Flo and Winifred never got on, but since this happened, Flo has ... well, become sorry for her.'

'Most people have.'

'Yes, yes, I suppose so. It's like an assault case: the victim is often forgotten; the main objective is to get the perpetrator off. Anyway, don't worry about us; you have plenty of that to do back in the house. It's just on Annette's time, isn't it?'

'Well, no; she's a bit longer to go yet. And that's another thing: how will she take the news of a grandson or daughter? I've little hope that it will revive some sort of interest in her. I can't see anything stirring that apathy of hers now, except the sight of me.'

But there Daniel was wrong. Winifred was sitting in the large room, Flo by her side. There were other people, seemingly family groups all about; some were talking together, others were just sitting still staring at the patient while the patient looked into space. In one group two small girls were laughing. It was a strange sound because it was ordinary laughter.

Flo, looking at her sister, felt pity rising from the depths of her. She had never liked Winnie: they had nothing in common, but she wouldn't have wished the devil in hell to find himself in a situation like this ... in a place like this. Winnie, she knew, had always been good to herself, had her fill, food-wise and comfort-wise, but had remained empty. She had needed love, oh yes, she had needed love, and to love. But she had centred this on the wrong one.

She now put her hand on Winifred's and said, 'Don sends his love.'

'Who?'

There was no insanity in the eyes that looked into hers; at least, the look in them was not that which she would have expected in the eyes of anyone insane. Whatever this new attitude was she felt it didn't stem from madness. And her voice was slightly sharp as she said, 'Now Winnie, don't act like that! Don is your son and you love . . .'

T have no son.'

'You have three sons.'

'Huh! Three sons you say? Would I be mother to an idiot, a bastard, and a cripple?'

Inwardly Flo felt herself shrinking away from the hate showing on her sister's face as she hissed out the truth, for indeed, she was mother to an idiot, a bastard and a cripple. But put like that it sounded horrifying. She stared at Winifred now realising that her sister wasn't mad in that

sense, she was just burned up with hate. Hate was a terrible emotion, a consuming fire that in Winifred's case could never be douched. That would mean she would remain here for ... Oh! She actually shook her head at the thought of her sister having to spend the rest of her life in this place, a place which gave her the creeps even to visit.

Thinking as she did, she was afterwards to ask herself what made her make such a remark, as 'Don't talk like that, Winnie; you could have so much to look forward to. There's a child coming; you will be a grandmother,' for her hand was thrust away so quickly that it hit the edge of the chair and she had to hold her wrist tightly to stop herself from crying out. And now she was gaping at Winifred, whose body was shaking as if with an ague, and through her trembling lips she was hissing: 'It's you who should be in here, daring to suggest I will be a grandmother to a child with a whore for its mother and fathered by the other bastard. My son was pure, do you hear? My son was pure . . .'

Flo was aware of the approach of a nurse who said nothing, but with a slight motion of her hand conveyed to Flo to take her leave; which she did hurriedly. Yet she was not quick enough to escape Winifred's voice yelling obscenities after her, and causing an uproar in the room.

Both Harvey and Daniel came towards her as she entered the hallway.

'What is it? You're as white as a sheet.' She looked at Daniel for a moment then, lowering her head she said, T was a fool. I brought up things I shouldn't. I thought to create . . . to . . . Oh dear!'

Harvey said nothing but, putting an arm around her shoulder, led her outside.

In the car, Daniel said bitterly, 'It will be better if nobody comes; let her stew in her own juice.'

'Oh, Daniel, don't be like that. One could go insane just being in that place and among those people.'

'Come; don't upset yourself; don't you cry.'

Harvey pulled her tightly to him. 'And don't be sorry for those people. Listen, I'll tell you what happened to me and Daniel.' And he went on to tell her about Mrs Debar.

But he failed to make her laugh, or even smile. Instead, she said, 'God help her. God help them all.'

They had just finished their evening meal. Throughout, the conversation at the table had been stilted; and now Daniel, looking at Annette, said, 'You all right, hinny? You look a bit peaky.'

'Yes, yes, I'm fine, Dad.'

'She's tired.' This came from Joe. 'She's been on her feet all day. Why do nurses insist on the week-end for their days off? Of course, yes, don't say it.' He closed his eyes and flapped his hand at them. 'That was a silly thing to say because we are all on hand at the week-end.' And poking his head forward across the table towards Annette he said, 'We can manage you know, and when I say we I'm including Stephen, if you'll leave us alone.'

She smiled now as she said, T think you need supervision, both of you.'

Flo now said, 'It's amazing how that boy has changed, isn't it, seemingly in all ways.' She was looking at Daniel and she emphasised, 'Well, it is. We are not with him all the time so we notice it, don't we, Harvey?'

'Well, yes; we can see it: he's no longer the child, or shall I say childish.'

'You're right there.' Joe was nodding at him. 'The

amazing thing to me is he's had a dry bed for weeks now. You could say it was from shortly after' - he paused, not quite sure of his choice of words which would have been, 'since Mam left,' so he substituted, 'since Don had to be seen to.'

'He loves being with Don,' Annette put in, 'and the nurse is wonderful with him. She calls him the superintendent. He glows at that. And Don likes him to be there. Imagine, a few weeks ago we couldn't have left them for this length of time. What is it?' She turned and looked at the clock. 'Over half an hour, which tells me I must return to duty.' But in a low voice, she added, 'But it's no duty.'

'Duty or no duty, you sit where you are and have a natter. I'm going along now, so do as you're told.' Joe stabbed his finger at her and repeated, 'Do as you're told for once, stay put.' Then turning to Flo, he said, 'And you see she does, woman.' Then his laughter joined Harvey's as Harvey cried, 'Be careful, you big fellow, I'm the only one who has the right to call her woman, me being uncivilised.'

Joe left the room amid laughter that had its basis in an attempt to bring normality into the atmosphere, and as he entered the sick-room he was greeted with more laughter, the hiccupping kind, from Stephen, who cried at him, 'I've been tellin' Don about that time, you remember, Joe? when Mrs Osborne came. You remember? And I told her she could drink out of the saucer and blow on her tea if she liked.'

He was laughing again, and Don too was laughing, and Joe said, 'Oh, yes, I remember that day. You got your backside twanked, didn't you?'

As he spoke he was seeing Stephen not as he normally thought of him, as the lad or the boy, but as Harvey saw

him now. He did indeed seem to have aged a little. And it was true, he hadn't wet his bed. And, now he thought of it, he hadn't had a crying fit for months, either. And then he could help lift Don as well as he himself or his dad did, and help to change him too, and with gentleness.

Looking at the tray on the side table, Joe remarked, 'You didn't get him to eat his dinner though, did you, clever clogs?'

'I wasn't hungry.' Don now put his hand out towards Stephen, saying, 'You know that game we used to play?'

'Tiddleywinks, Don?'

'No, no; the one you call bumps, you know with the checkers. It's up in your room. Do you think you could get it, because I would like a game?'

'Oh, yes, yes, Don. I'll go now. I'll go now.' And he was about to rush from the room when he turned and looked at Joe and said, 'All right?'

'Yes; yes, all right. Go ahead and get it.'

Once they were alone together Don, with the aid of his elbows, edged himself on to the pillows, saying, 'I ... I want to have a word with you before Annette comes in. We never seem to be alone, do we? I've been wanting to . . . well say something to you for some time now, Joe. Sit down and listen, will you?'