A Hospital Summer Page 23

  ‘Dr MacArthur frightens people? He couldn’t. He’s a pet. He said I could come and see you this evening and to-morrow and told me I must eat good meals and keep regular hours.’

  He gaped at me. ‘You’ve seen MacArthur? When?’

  ‘Just before I came in here. I had to see him to get permission to visit you, as it’s not a visiting day, and late.’

  ‘Did you ask to see him?’ I nodded. ‘How did you know he existed? How did you know this place existed? And how did you know I was here?’ He lay back on his many pillows. ‘You’ve got quite a bit of explaining to do, one way and another, woman.’

  ‘Have I?’ I pushed the locker over the edge of the room and onto the garden path immediately beyond to keep him quiet. ‘When it comes to having to explain things,’ I went on as I sat down, ‘I’m a non-starter compared with you. Do you realize the trouble you’ve given me, Joe? Do you, my good man, realize that I’ve come across country from the camp to-day? That I’ve had to see every one from Matron at our hospital to this little boss of yours to get in here? And that if it had not been for my Uncle Michael I wouldn’t be here at all?’

  ‘Where the devil does Uncle Michael come into it?’

  ‘He’s square one. He wrote to ask Sir Thomas Lomax about you, and ‒’

  He cut me short. ‘He did WHAT?’

  ‘Joe. Relax.’ I waved him back anxiously. ‘Please. You’ll shoot a temperature if you bounce about like that. If you’ll just sit quietly and listen I’ll tell you all.’

  He grinned and relaxed obediently. ‘Just call me Sealed Lips Slaney. Think I ought to have a pipe as well?’ He folded his arms. ‘I’m listening. On with your tale, woman.’

  I removed my pork-pie hat and smiled at him. ‘It won’t take long.’ For the second time that evening I explained about my leave and the journey I had just taken. ‘Directly Matron gave me that forty-eight I got moving.’

  He asked carefully, ‘And you just wrote to your Uncle Michael?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And he just wrote to “Lungs” Lomax?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you just asked for MacArthur, and he let you in?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He considered me calmly. ‘Would you mind telling me how you reached this mountain-top? Did you perhaps borrow a tank from the Army?’

  ‘No. A bike. A nice dame at the Y.W. lent me hers.’

  ‘You came up these hills on a bike?’

  ‘I didn’t ride up, obviously. I pushed up and sailed down. It was quite pleasant.’

  ‘It was, eh? And you were on duty last night?’

  I said, ‘If you are going to tell me I should have stopped for a square meal and a long sleep let me save you your breath. Dr MacArthur has already given me a stern warning on the consequences of neglecting the needs of the human body. You don’t have to give that another thought. I’ve got dinner lined up here and a bed booked at the Y.W. for when I get back.’

  He unfolded his arms and refolded them again. He was wearing blue cotton pyjamas; the colour suited his eyes, but the thin material exposed the angular lines of his chest and arms. He might look more rested, but he was still as thin as ever, and, despite all the fresh air, there was no trace of colour in his face. He looked like a charcoal etching to which the artist had decided to add splashes of blue. He lay as still as a figure in a picture, as he asked quietly, ‘Clare, why?’

  I had been expecting and previously dreading that question. Ever since I had discovered where he was I had known that I would have to answer it; I had not known how I was going to answer it. I had pushed the thought to the back of my mind, as something to be faced only when the moment arrived; I had been half afraid, as Mary had also feared, that my upbringing would prove too great a barrier, and that the excellent and inhibiting middle-class principles that had been instilled in me since birth would force me to give a hypocritical if civilized answer. Now the moment had come it never occurred to me to be either hypocritical or shy.

  I said, ‘Because I wanted to see you.’

  ‘And why would you want to do that?’ he asked drily. ‘When you never gave one damn about seeing me when I was within range? Does a man have to take to his sick bed before he can register with you, Clare? Or would you perhaps just be feeling sorry for that poor bastard Slaney? Poor old Joe. On his back for the duration. Why not sacrifice a forty-eight for him? Any noble, pure woman would do the same! Is that why you’re here?’ His voice was growing bitter. ‘Would that be it? Have you just come to boost my morale and tell me you hope we’ll always be good friends? Because if that’s what’s in your mind, woman ‒ and, knowing you, I’ll wager it is ‒ will you object if I ask you to get right back on that bike and go back to your bed at the Y.W.? It’s not’ ‒ his voice shook suddenly ‒ ‘that I’m not grateful to you. It’s not that I’m not glad to see you again. It’s none of those things.’

  ‘Then ‒ what is it?’ My words fell like stones between us.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you that evening I rang you from here? Didn’t I tell you that I don’t want your pity? Didn’t I tell you that I wanted to be left alone? Oh, I know I must sound a perfect heel saying all this to you after the trouble you’ve taken when you’re dog-tired ‒ and you look dog-tired, my ‒ Clare. But won’t you understand, woman? ‒ I didn’t want to see you ‒ I didn’t want you to come ‒ I didn’t want anything more to do with you. And I don’t. Not now.’

  I locked my hands in my lap. I had to do that to stop them from shaking. I saw by the way he was gripping his arms that his hands were giving him trouble. ‘Joe. It’s not that I won’t understand. I can’t understand. Why? Why all this?’

  ‘Why?’ He almost spat the word at me. ‘Why? Damn you, Clare! You must know quite well why! You can’t be that dumb! Not even you. I have told you I love you; you must know I still love you like hell, and there’s not one damned thing I can do about it, except thank Heaven fasting that you never got to loving me; at least you aren’t involved in this ‒ this ‒ waste of time. Do you think love is something you can turn off like a tap? Do you think one can stop loving a person to order? Just because that person is out of sight? Do you think all you have to do is concentrate on a good book? Is that what you think?’ he demanded. ‘For the record, let me tell you, you’re wrong. So now ‒ now do you see ‒ why? Now do you understand that if you want to be kind ‒ hell, I know you do ‒ well, the kindest thing you can do for me is to get the hell out of here and out of my life ‒ and stay out.’

  The violence in his tone soothed me. I said, ‘No.’

  He glared at me; his eyes were like blue fire, at last he had some colour in his face. ‘What do you mean ‒ no?’

  ‘What I say. I’m not getting the hell out of anywhere. Not until my forty-eight is over.’

  ‘Are you trying to humour me?’ He looked as if he could gladly throw something at me. ‘I’m in no mood to be humoured.’

  ‘I can see that. Calm down, Joe. You’re getting too worked up. It won’t do your chest any good.’

  ‘Did you expect me not to get worked up? And you turning up like this? What am I made of? Solid wood?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re made of. I’m not too sure about myself. I’m beginning to get some idea.’ I stood up. My cap fell to the floor, and I left it there. ‘You’ve asked me why I’m here. I said, because I wanted to see you. You’ve given me a lot of reasons for wanting to see you. None of them have been right. You’ve said your piece. Supposing you let me say mine.’

  He watched me as I came closer to his bed. ‘I’m sorry.’ He sounded utterly defeated. ‘Go ahead. Get it over.’

  I smiled slightly. I was not nervous, or shy. Now, at last, I knew exactly what to say. I was only amused at the contrast between reality and the vague scene with some nebulous young man which, like every young woman, I had visualized in imagination a score of times. ‘It won’t take me long. I may not say it right, as this is something I’ve not said before, and I’m not sure of the f
orm. I’ve come to see you, Joe, because I want to ask you to marry me. Will you?’

  The colour ebbed from his face. ‘What was that you said?’

  ‘I asked you to marry me. Will you? When you get well?’

  His hands released their grip on his arms and came towards me. Then he realized what he was doing and refolded his arms tightly. ‘Clare Dillon. Have you taken leave of your senses? Is this some kind of a joke?’

  ‘Do you imagine I’ve come all this way for a good laugh? No. It isn’t.’

  ‘You want ‒ to ‒ marry ‒ me?’ He looked and sounded shocked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘In Heaven’s name ‒ why? You don’t love me at all. You never have.’

  I said, ‘Just how do you know that, when you’ve never bothered to ask?’

  ‘Are you telling me that you do? Clare ‒ no.’

  ‘Joe ‒ yes. I do.’

  The room was suddenly full of silence as well as air. In the silence we looked at each other without moving.

  Joe broke the silence. ‘You must be out of your mind.’ He nodded to himself as if he had come to the only reasonable answer. ‘You’re on nights ‒ you’re tired ‒ you’ve had a lot of worry ‒ and you’ve worked yourself into a state where you can believe anything. You can’t really be expected to know what you’re saying. You can’t have suddenly got round to loving me, on your own, with me a hundred odd miles away.’

  ‘I know your body has been a hundred odd miles away. I also know you’ve been with me ‒ all the time. And don’t waste breath telling me you haven’t been thinking of me. I won’t believe you. You’ll just have to stop not believing me. I can’t explain how this has happened; I can only tell you that it has. I only realized it that evening you rang to tell me about this. I never knew it when you were around the camp; I never knew or understood anything about you or myself until that evening. Then I knew ‒ and I had to find you. I had to come and see you. I had to tell you. I did not know what sort of a reception I’d get. I had a nasty feeling it would be rather like the one you’ve given me. I didn’t dare brood on that; I didn’t brood on what I’d say to you when I got here. I hoped I’d find the words. I have. If you don’t like them I’m sorry. And if you don’t want to see me I’m sorry. I’m sorry because I’m going to come again. Again and again. It won’t be the slightest good your trying to bully me off. I don’t get bullied easily.’

  He pushed his hand through his hair. ‘It’s no use, Clare. This doesn’t make sense. You can’t possibly feel as you say. You’re only saying it because you’re sorry ‒’

  ‘Good God, man! If you tell me I’m only doing this, that, or the other because I’m sorry for you again I’ll shake you! Ill as you are, I will! Of course I’m sorry for you! I’m sorry for me, too! Not because you’ve got tubercle and everything has got to hang up until you’re well, but because I can’t help loving you, and I know I’m going to marry you, and I know you’re going to lead me a hell of a life when we’re married! You’ll never stop talking; you’ll never stop making tea; and you’ll spend both our lives telling me what you think I ought to be thinking and feeling, instead of asking me what I think and feel! Men!’ I was furious. ‘Men drive me crazy! I would never dream of trying to fathom a man’s mind; why in the name of goodness do men keep nattering on as if they can understand a woman’s mind? You’ll never do it, Joe! You’ll never know what makes me tick, any more than I’ll ever know what makes you tick! Here you are, beefing on about my pitying you and being noble and this and that! What do you think I’m made of?’ I demanded quite as wildly as he had done. ‘Solid wood too? Hasn’t it struck you that your vanishing might have hurt me? Let me tell you, it’s been sheer murder. Nothing less. I know you did it with the best of intentions ‒ but ‒ oh, my darling ‒ Joe’ ‒ my anger vanished and I half sobbed at the expression on his face ‒ ‘don’t ever do anything like that again. Please. I can chase over half England; I can chug up hills and borrow bikes; I can bother Army specialists ‒ once. I can’t keep on doing those things. Someone’ll get narked if I do. There is a war on, my love.’

  For perhaps half a minute he said nothing. Then he reached for one of my hands and held it in both of his. ‘Well, now,’ his voice was very deep, ‘do you tell me it’s still going on? Without the two of us?’ His grip tightened. ‘You said you didn’t know the form. I don’t either. What do I say?’

  ‘What do you want to say?’

  He smiled. ‘That you’re a damned fool of a wonderful girl, and why you should bother to think of waiting around until I can get off my back I’ll never be able to understand.’

  ‘You do believe me?’

  ‘If I say I don’t you’ll knock my back teeth down my throat. Isn’t that true, my darling?’

  I grinned. ‘Probably.’

  ‘And you a nurse! And I a poor sick man! Shocking. I’d not have thought it of you, sweetheart.’ He grew more serious. ‘There’s a lot I’d not have thought of you; there’s a lot I don’t know about you. In fact, there’s precious little I do know. I never guessed, or would have dared to guess, that you would ever come to feel this way about me. I thought you loathed the sight of me?’

  ‘I did. For quite a long time. You used to infuriate me.’ I put my free hand on top of his and we smiled at each other. ‘You only do that occasionally now. But you’re right about there being a lot more you don’t know. There’s something else I want to tell you.’

  ‘Would it be the number of children we are going to have? And their names? I don’t doubt you’ve that taped too.’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘My darling girl, you’re slipping.’

  ‘Sorry. Listen.’ I told him of my plans for my immediate future. ‘I’m going to get moving on it after this leave. I’m taking your advice, remember? Can I pay you a greater compliment?’

  He said slowly, ‘Wouldn’t you say you’ve paid me the greatest possible already? I would. Incidentally, did you remember it’s a Leap Year?’

  ‘So it is.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have cared if it wasn’t?’

  ‘Good gracious, no! After all, Joe, we had to get this straight, and you’d never have asked me. Now would you?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. How could I?’

  ‘I suppose not ‒ being a man. Men are so silly at times.’

  ‘Not to worry, dearest. They marry women. That evens it up. Tell me more about this training scheme. What really made you decide?’

  I explained briefly.

  My explanation worried him. ‘I had no idea life was so hot in the camp now. The quicker you shift out of there the better. I don’t cherish the notion of your being Jerry’s target for the night. But there’s one snag. You’ll be shifting from the camp to London. Wouldn’t that be the fire after the frying-pan?’

  I shrugged. ‘Possibly. You mustn’t worry about it. Worry is bad for you. You’ve got to get well, Joe. That’s really all that matters.’

  He said, ‘Maybe we’ll have to do a deal. I’ll try and not flap about your war, and you mustn’t flap about my bugs. What do you say, sweetheart?’

  ‘It’s a deal.’ We shook on it.

  ‘But there’s another thing that worries me like hell. No way round that one, either.’

  ‘Joe. What is it?’

  He looked at me. ‘I can’t kiss you or hold you closer than this. I won’t be able to risk it for a long time. Are you going to mind?’

  ‘I’ll mind; as you will. We’ll survive. We both know what we’re in for. It’s only until you’re well. Have they given you any idea of how long? Or how badly you’ve got it? And how,’ I only dared ask then, ‘are you?’

  He smiled as if he appreciated why I had not asked him that last question previously. ‘Not too bad. Could be a lot worse. That’s no line; that’s true. Lomax said he thought it would take around three years. Two on my back in here; one taking it easy.’ His eyes grew troubled again. ‘It’s the devil of a time to keep you waiting, Clare. I’m feeling
a heel once more. It’s not fair to hold you to this.’

  I said, ‘Think how much more of a heel you would have felt if you had turned down my offer.’

  He smiled faintly. ‘No gentleman would do that, eh?’

  ‘Not possibly.’

  ‘Darling Clare. Dear Heart ‒ are you sure? Are you quite, quite sure?’

  ‘I’m sure. And you?’

  He said, ‘I have been for months now. I was sure the first morning I saw you in the Ob. Block. I told you that. I didn’t tell you that when I left you I knew I was only going to be half alive without you. And when I was ill,’ he went on, ‘at first I hoped it would simplify things. I had to do without you, and being ill dotted the “i”s and crossed the “t”s. Then I discovered being ill did nothing of the sort; it just added to the general hell. I’ve loathed and detested every part of the War, but once I had to opt out, and was here all safe and sound and cosseted like a baby, I would have given my right hand to get back into that ruddy uniform, and back into doing things and not having them done for me. I haven’t enjoyed having my war as reading matter with my breakfast egg, Clare; and I haven’t enjoyed knowing you and the others were up to your ears in it while I was just dead wood. I tell you, I could kick myself from here to Kingdom Come for picking up this damned bug. And I tell you, I have missed you so, my darling. I’ve missed you every moment of the day, and the devil of a lot of moments of the night. It’s so quiet here. There’s nothing but the wind on the trees, and maybe an owl.’ He stopped momentarily, as if he was too tired to go on.

  I said, ‘Joe, rest a bit. There’s plenty of time ‒’

  He shook his head. ‘Would you bet on that?’ And I let him continue. ‘When you came in with Sister this evening I saw you and knew that subconsciously I had been hoping and praying that you would come. I saw you and ‒ for a moment ‒ the darkness disappeared. You ask me if I’m sure? I’m so sure that I’m not even scared any more. Oh, yes, I’ve been good and scared; of not seeing you again; of your being killed or mutilated; of your picking up some sort of bug. I’ve run through the lot. I’ve even got to flapping about myself. I’ve no wish to die; never had. I know the score about me on paper; damn it, that’s my job. I also know that what a man needs with this bug is something to hang on to, something to keep his eyes on, and until you came in this evening there was nothing for me to keep my eyes on but those trees. I’ll tell you this,’ he added gently, ‘I’ll not need to talk the night nurse into showing me my chart in the morning. I can say now, before the night starts, I’ll have the best night I’ve ever had in this place yet. I’ll have you to thank for that sleep, and so much else. So you tell me ‒ how do I start thanking you?’