Sister Loving Heart, page 8
He paused. He had flushed slightly at the thought, and was standing looking at her. Here was a very good-looking man, who took pains to be neat and smart in every way. He said, ‘You interested me, you seemed to be the wrong type to be coming to this place, I knew it, and I knew Guin. Why did you do it?’
‘We have a great specialist at my hospital. Rex Jamieson was a friend of Lady Raikes, and she asked him for someone to help with her daughter. He suggested me.’
The young pilot nodded, and there was silence, then he said, ‘All I can say is that he doesn’t know what he is suggesting. I would think the best thing you can do is to write and tell him so. He got you into it, let him get you out of it. Go back to your hospital, whilst you can.’
Chapter Seven
It was at that identical moment that Effie did not know if she really wanted to go back home. She had just landed in a new country with beautiful flowers, soft trees and the bluest sea that she had ever seen. It was true that there had been a violent thunderstorm, but these troubles pass. She had survived the first ordeal, getting here and making friends with Guin, she stood on the threshold of much more thrilling things happening.
She said, ‘But that is not right, one does not run away because one is frightened.’
He stared at her with some dismay, then he rose and came across the room to her, standing before her, a very tall man, beautifully made and well dressed. There was not a single crease in that exquisite jacket, and he held his head high. ‘My goodness!’ he said, and then with a new ring in his tone, ‘My mother always told me that the spirit of Florence Nightingale had never died, and it sounds to be true. You speak as she would have done. Look here! If you are a wise girl, who wants to save herself from a hell of a lot of trouble, you’ll scram, right now. If you still think that the kind and gracious Miss Nightingale could get you out of this, you’ll stay.’
She looked at him, and she laughed. A moment ago she had felt almost like crying, but now she changed, and looked him fully in the eyes. She laughed. ‘Maybe you’re right, and maybe I’m wrong, but I’m staying where the job is. I can hardly resign my post the first time that I see a spot of trouble ahead of me.’
He drew back his hand, but the very fine grey eyes watched her almost as if he could not believe what it was that he saw. ‘You’ve got courage,’ he said, ‘but I ought to warn you that, when I am flying back, and a few days have passed by, you may be extremely sorry that you did not resign your post whilst you had the chance.’
‘On the other hand, I might reproach myself for backing out,’ and she said it very quietly, but she knew that her brown eyes were dancing.
She looked very small, standing there, a girl with a kind smile on her face, pale, for she seldom flushed. She is a typical English girl, he told himself with a sudden spasm of admiration, and, by God, she’s got courage!
He spoke gently, and there was a warmth in the tone. When he talked, he had a low burr which was very pleasant indeed to listen to. ‘I admire you very much,’ he said, ‘and I shall always remember my meeting with Florence Nightingale. Now, what about you and I going out? Guin won’t return till the wee sma’ hours, I bet. This is the time of day when she starts to live, and she makes the rest of the world live for her.’
She said, for she did not know, ‘Are ‒ are you staying here? Shall we stay in and wait for Guin?’
‘Yes. She asked me to stay for a week, they have the rooms here. I have a week’s leave. She could put me up easily. I think when she asked that, she was a trifle apprehensive of seeing too much of you, and being alone. Anyway she did a flit. We’ll wait for her.’
‘She ought to have been resting herself after that journey. She does not seem to realise that she is not yet sufficiently recovered to go tearing about the country.’
‘You’ll have a job if you think that you are going to keep her tied down here at home,’ and he laughed.
She told the butler when he came, they were staying up and he brought drinks and sandwiches. He admitted that Miss Guin would not return until later, no one must sit up for her. It dawned on Effie that this young man knew a great deal more about the girl than she had bargained for, and she blamed Lady Raikes for not explaining things. She should have been candid enough to admit that Guin was out of hand and needed masterly control. But one thing was plain. Guin had recovered far better than they knew from her malady, and, although she pretended to be languid and ill, she was prepared to take liberties.
‘We’ve got to find her,’ Effie said.
Don Harcourt appreciated this. ‘Now supposing we are more explicit, putting all our cards on the table. Guin is as strong as a horse, in spite of what she says. I can promise you that she has never been really ill in her life.’
‘You seem to know a lot about her.’
‘About her kind, you mean, enough to appreciate this. Maybe I live something of a fairytale life myself, for all sorts of things do happen to pilots. I’m no longer a kid. I’m twenty-eight.’
‘It seems like white-haired old age to me,’ was what she said, pulling a face. ‘You’ll have to start taking care of yourself, won’t you?’
He put out a beautifully manicured hand, laying it on her arm. She had the impression that, without a doubt at all, he was far cleverer than she was. He said, ‘Look here, if I were not sure of myself, your journey over here would not have been as easy as it was. My work is to know things, and there is not an awful lot that you can teach me about Guinevere. I’m sorry that you have got yourself mixed up with her to this extent. It is the way of the world. The nice suffer for the nasty. It happens all the time.’
She waved what he said aside, and started talking. ‘I was darned hard up. You men don’t know the penury a nurse lives under. Just enough, and not a farthing over. I wanted some money. I needed a holiday truly badly, and this as a job looked like being child’s play.’
‘I said that you had got hold of the wrong idea. I’ve known the girl too long, but if I stay here, and I was asked, maybe I can lend you a hand, if things get out of perspective, and they could.’
She looked at him. He was the sort of man she had always admired, but had never met as a friend before. He asked what she had wanted from life, and, in a fit of idiocy, she told him the truth. ‘The things that every girl wants, I know they sound ridiculous, and possibly are. They are good clothes, lots of fat chocolates, security …’ and then she stopped.
‘Security is the only one of them all that matters,’ was what he said.
The old butler entered the room to say that the drinks and food were served, and they went back into the small dining-room. It was decorated in the Italian style. Light beige in colour, something which Effie would never have thought could be so attractive, the relief came in emerald-green table linen. China and glass were all pale green, and the carpet matched them. It was a daring contrast, and completely successful as she could see.
‘How charming it is,’ she said.
Don nodded. ‘The old lady is riddled with arthritis, and this is the sort of thing she likes doing. It is a mercy she has the money to play about with.’
They sat down at the walnut table which was beautifully set, and they were left alone with the food.
Effie asked, ‘How do you suppose her ladyship ever managed to have a daughter like Guin? It makes me think, for they are hopelessly different.’
‘I can tell you exactly,’ and he laughed. ‘Her old man was a fairly lively piece of work, clever of course, well known, and particularly popular out here. When he died he left his wife a fortune. I am sure that she thought her only child was the gift of Heaven, with the ghastly result that she spoilt her out of all sense.’
‘I realise that.’
‘Guin could have anything she wanted, and when she wanted it, and from her cot could manage her mamma. She was spoilt even when she was christened. I think that the child inherited much of her bad behaviour from an aggressive father, and was spoilt from the start. He was well known round here for the scrapes he scrambled into.’
The conversation enthralled Effie, and Don discussed these things quietly and gently. It was plain that he disliked Guin. She had sent him a chit saying they were spending some little time at the castle, and she would like him to be one of her guests. He happened to have some leave, was at a loose end, so he came to stay here. It was as good, if not better, than most places. He had never dreamt that the girl would clear off on his very first evening, and this was obviously what she had done.
‘But we have got to find her,’ said Effie, and she felt to be frailly helpless.
‘She’ll turn up when she wants something. Made that way. Don’t worry. I know her tricks.’
They ate the delicious food, sandwiches of all varieties, daintily served. The castle fascinated her, the job was what she had wanted, but she was now deeply disturbed.
He said, ‘It would be a joke to clear off and leave Miss Guin alone to it.’
‘Except that I could not possibly do that. I have a job to fulfil, she is my patient.’
‘I don’t envy you. Let’s go back to the drawing-room,’ said Don, and they sat and talked. She mentioned the thought of the place being haunted. She was apprehensive, scared of what night might bring, and felt sure that she could never possibly sleep.
‘I brought night lights with me,’ she admitted, ‘these were in case anything went wrong, and I had pangs about the thought.’
He knew how she felt.
Gently, he said, ‘I have an old aunt who lived in a house she found to be haunted. I do hope that what I am going to say won’t make me seem a bit silly, but she ‒ she would never sleep in a room she thought was haunted, without a Crucifix by her bed. Then she was never disturbed, for she said that the Cross kept them away. She swore by this.’ He paused. ‘I have this one, and I admit that I have great faith in it. You can borrow it if you like. It’ll see you through,’ and he brought a small Crucifix on a golden chain from his pocket.
‘It ‒ it’s wonderful,’ she said chokily.
‘That Crucifix has seen me round many a dirty corner. You can have it in your room for a night or two, and no harm can come of it. You’ll get more used to things here soon.’
He blushed as though he thought that she would rather despise him for being superstitious, which she would never have done.
‘You are being very kind,’ she said, and her voice was husky. She could feel herself being tremendously responsive to his kindness.
For a moment he looked perplexed at her, a little uncomfortable, as though half-ashamed to have done this. Then he said, ‘It has never let me down and it is well known that ghosts keep clear of this sort of thing, and … well … it might be helpful.’
‘How kind you are,’ and she took it into her hand.
It was absurd at this moment to realise that she was not as scared as she had been before.
Now she had the feeling that an intense loneliness had gone from her, a loneliness which, in some ways, had been alarming.
‘I know that you would do the same thing for me,’ he said, ‘and I am also sure that it will help you.’
They sat on after. There seemed so much to talk about. Don was good company. The exquisite coffee was brought to them in the drawing-room. He was a man who played the piano beautifully, most unusual for the modern personality, and it impressed her. Later, there were fireworks in the village street, for the extraordinary thing about these people in their own villages is that where at one distracted moment they are on their knees praying and weeping, and in the greatest distress, a moment later they are laughing and singing as if life was one sweet dream and entirely after their own hearts.
‘The worry is over, the danger past, what-ho for a festa,’ he said, ‘and they’ll have it whatever else happens, and what’s more, they’ll enjoy it.’
Night had come, and now Effie felt that the castle seemed somehow to become more uncanny with the change to darkness. It was lit by very subdued lighting which she did not appreciate. But whatever else she did, they had got to find Guin, and she must stay here and guard the girl if only against herself. But she knew that she was scared.
‘I’m being very stupid about all this,’ she said.
‘Not really,’ and Don’s voice was encouraging. ‘There is no need to get the wind up now. Why don’t you go to bed, and let me sit back to welcome Miss Guin when she and her escort (she’s bound to have that as well), appear back.’
‘No, I must stay and greet her. That is my duty, and I could not possibly go to sleep until I knew that she was all right.’ She stubbed out a cigarette in a little golden ashtray.
She thought it highly probable that she might have to stay up for some considerable time, and was most surprised when, at one in the morning, a car drew up outside the door, and after a moment or two, Guin herself appeared.
There was nobody with her, which surprised Effie, and she came tiredly into the drawing-room, walking very badly.
She looked worn out.
Without a doubt, she had had sufficient to drink (so she does that also, Effie thought, and was afraid). She had suspected that this might be a side line, and undoubtedly it was.
Guin’s cheeks were flushed, and she looked a trifle confused, but was not argumentative, and permitted Effie to get her to bed without any nasty scenes.
‘You ought to have told me that you were going out,’ Effie said, reproachfully.
‘I pretended to be asleep,’ and Guin laughed, ‘I always say that God helps those who help themselves.’
‘Now get a good night’s rest, for this is very urgent for you. I’ll come in early with the tea, to see how you are getting on.’
She knew of course, that the girl was drunk, but she would have suspected this anyway. Guin was not in a quarrelling mood. She thrust everyone aside. ‘Don’t keep on bothering me,’ was what she said, ‘I’m well and strong and quite capable of going my own sweet way, and you go yours.’
All the same, Effie did not leave her, until she had seen her safely into bed. On the landing outside, Don was waiting, and looking extremely worried. He stopped her.
‘She’s okay?’ he asked.
‘Yes. But I’m worried as to what she has been doing, and whom she has been with.’
‘Of course. Write and tell her mother that she cleared off like this.’
‘And then annoy the girl because she thinks that I am a tell-tale? That wouldn’t be wise, surely?’
‘If you do nothing and she does it again (which she probably will do), then her mother will say that you should have told her the first time.’
‘I think I would rather prefer to try to coax it out of her myself,’ she said, and last thing she went back to Guin, and asked where she had been. The girl only laughed. She was not the sort who admits trouble. They stayed for some time talking, but the girl was obdurate, and last thing of all, Effie returned to Don.
‘I really do feel very bad about it,’ she said. ‘I would not have had this happen for all the world. But I hate telling on her.’
‘Look here!’ He was a tall man, standing there quietly, never raising his voice, which was firm and strong. ‘One of these days something dreadful will happen to that girl, because you simply cannot go on asking for it, without ultimately getting it. Write to her mother. You owe it to Lady Raikes. After all, you are the one who is responsible for her here, and carry the baby, for goodness’ sake, have the sense to admit it?’
In the end she admitted that he was right.
She went to her own room, determined to write that letter when the morning came.
During the night she thought that she heard strange sounds. It was one of those unbelievable old castles, where most of the doors and the windows made strange sounds. Once she thought a woman wept tragically, another time that a man was blaspheming violently. She was not as alarmed as she would have thought to be, and she felt that she owed this to Don. There was a great deal in the man who lived the exacting life of a pilot. He’s kind, she told herself.
Chapter Eight
Guin did not appear till after eleven next day, and seemed to be very groggy. Effie sent her back to bed with something to soothe her, and she was better by dinner time, coming down to eat with them. This was a step in the right direction. But, although she was calm at first, she started being difficult again, wanting to pick a quarrel with everybody and everything. In the end she said that her bad headache had returned, she felt awful and nobody gave a damn! Effie got her back to bed.
It was on Don’s advice that evening, that Effie wrote to Lady Raikes. The moment had come when she simply had to tell her what was happening here. She had become seriously worried for Guin, for she felt that the girl was irrational, and quite unresponsible for what she did or said. Maybe many of her nastier remarks were made with the sole intention of shocking them and showing them that she would have her own way. But she was being extremely difficult, and what was worse, she seemed to be physically ill.
She was being particularly trying tonight, trying to shock them, and although, not for the world would Effie have admitted it, she was at moments considerably shocked. She dared not spare Lady Raikes’s feelings; she had to be plain spoken. When, in momentary passion, every little while Guin insisted that she had sent for the waiter, and that he would arrive fairly soon now. If he did this, it could only make matters considerably worse.
She sealed up the envelope.
‘I don’t like worrying that poor old lady like this,’ she said reluctantly.
‘You would worry her a great deal more if you did not take action. She has got you out here to see after Guin, and guard her against herself, and you have got to be sensible. She must get a proper report on what is happening, even if it worries her.’
‘Yes, I know.’ For a moment Effie paused. She thought of the calm comfort of the hospital, where all actions went automatically into the report book, and there was always someone older and wiser at hand, to give you the lead towards the next step.
