Crimson (58 page)

doesn’t look like a prison.” The mansion looked as immacur as a rich child’s doll’s house. On either side lately cared fo -capped yew hedges; icicles of the building stood snow dripped from the branches of old cedar trees; beyond them, white lawns sloped towards a dismal grey smudge, the English Channel.

In the warm, walnut-panelled entrance hall, Sam felt increasingly

uneasy; he and Clare sat on a burgundy brocade sofa while the sandy-hair cd receptionist went to fetch Matron Braddock.

Matron Braddock entered, wrapped in a navy uniform that made her appear that much more formidable. She did not mention that she had just tried unsuccessfully to contact Mr. Grant by telephone, but instead politely asked Sam for proof of identity.” In her charming voice, she explained, “We have to be careful. Many journalists have tried to see Mrs. O’Dare. You’d never believe the lies.”

“Yes I would,” Sam said, “I work in Hollywood .” He produced two passports from his pocket.

“We’re glad the old lady is being well protected.” Having checked the passports, the matron briefly informed the Shapiros of Elinor’s condition, but would give no prognosis or details of her treatment: that could only be discussed with Mrs. O’Dare’s doctors.

Clare gasped when she saw her grandmother’s gaunt, pale face; white-haired, with eyes closed, Elinor lay motionless on the metal hospital bed.

Clare ran forward and knelt by the bedside.

“Gran, Gran darling … Can she hear meT. She looked up at the matron.

“She’s sleeping,” Matron Braddock said.

“Her after-lunch nap.

“We’ll wait until she wakes up,” Clare said decisively.

“She looks so frail,” she added, fighting tears as she noticed, on the bedside table, silver-framed photographs of Billy, Edward, and the three sisters in their best party dresses at Starlings.

She turned to Sam.

“I expect you’ll be more comfortable in Gran’s sitting room next door, darling, but I want to sit quietly with her.”

“Can I offer you afternoon teaT the matron asked pleasantly.

“Do you have any coffee?” Sam asked equally pleasantly, moved towards the interconnecting door.

“And can ask my driver to bring my briefcase?” He wanted -cum-bodyguard, to see the layout of the the driver gprsing home.

O’Dare might be asleep for quite a long time,” the Won warned Clare. don’t mind a long wait,” Clare said sweetly as she Settled in the chair opposite Elinor’s bed; behind Clare, the glass doors of the French window faced the snowy rdenJust before four o’clock, Matron Braddock returned…:“I do hope Gran wakes soon,” Clare said, “because we’ll j.ave to leave shortly. Sam has to get back to our hotel to tAke his LA business calls.”

“I don’t like to disturb Mrs. O’Dare if it isn’t necessary.”

“Of course not,” Clare reassured her.

“We can visit her again before we leave England.” When the coffee tray was removed, Clare rapped on the sonnecting door, her signal to Sam. He hurried to stand juard in the corridor, ready to loudly ask his way to the John should anyone appear.

Clare gently tried to shake Elinor awake. She did not respond. Clare shook harder. Elinor made no movement. Clare tried to pull her upright into a sitting position. Elinor’s head flopped back, and her arms dangled like a rag doll’s.

Quickly Clare rearranged her grandmother, smoothed the bedclothes, and went into the corridor.

“Gran’s certainly not asleep,” she whispered to Sam.

“She must be drugged.”

“I told Steve to stretch his legs take a walk around the grounds while it’s still light enough to see,” Sam said. He looked at his watch.

“We’d better start before it gets dark.”

He joined Clare in the bedroom and pressed Elinor’s bedside bell.

When Matron Braddock reappeared, Clare bent over her silent grandmother and kissed her forehead. She and Sam then followed the matron from the room.

As they moved slowly along the corridor towards the entrance hall, the matron looked at Sam.

“You’ve forgotten your briefcase, haven’t you? I’ll get it for you.”

“So I have! Stupid of me. No trouble.” Sam turned and moved swiftly back along the corridor.

He snatched up his briefcase and quickly locked both doors leading from Elinor’s suite to the corridor, shoving the keys in his pocket. He grabbed some pink blankets from the bureau in the bedroom, pulled aside the high invalid’s table on casters that stretched across the end of Elinor’s bed, then yanked back the brocade curtains.

Steve’s pale face and pale blue eyes appeared outside. Sam nodded. Steve pulled up his coat collar, checked his leather driving gloves, walked back ten paces, then charged the window, turning his left shoulder towards it as he reached it.

With loud cracks like pistol shots, the doors caved inward. Glass flew everywhere, and a blast of icy air swept into the bedroom. Steve backed through the shattered doors into the room.

Sam heaved a pink armchair in front of the connecting door to the sitting room and yanked the bedclothes from Elinor’s bed.

Steve wrapped Elinor in a pink blanket, threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, and disappeared through the smashed doors into the darkness. He was followed closely by Sam, who couldn’t see a thing and didn’t know where Steve had parked the car.

Panting, the two men ran through the snow. Steve, th est to reach the Bentley, yanked the back door open and.” “ropping the pink bundle on the back seat, jumped in the driving seat and switched on the ignition and lights. Then he hit the horn three times in fast succession.

Sam threw himself into the back of the car and fell on top of the pink bundle. He leaned across and flung open c far door. Clare should have been running towards it.

But Clare was nowhere to be seen. -Sam panted, “If we’re held up, Steve, you take off.” He jgn through the snow to the front steps of the nursing it ome then slowed down to walk calmly through the entrance doors.

In the middle of the hall, Clare was struggling with Matron Braddock. Sam dodged past them, grabbed the screaming receptionist, and flung her at a white-coated male orderly who was running towards the matron. The orderly tried to dodge the outflung arms of the receptionist, lost his footing on the highly polished parquet, and fell to the floor.

Sam threw his right arm around the matron’s neck and yanked it backward to pull her away from Clare. The siatron gasped and tried to twist her body from Sam’s grasp, but she did not let go of Clare.

The orderly scrambled to his feet, leapt forward, and kicked Sam in the kidneys. Sam jerked violently back, pulling the matron with him. As she fell, she released her grip on Clare.

“Get out fast, Clare!” Sam roared.

As Clare scrambled up and ran in stockinged feet towards the glass front door, the orderly raced after her, but she managed to escape. Outside, however, Clare stumbled in the darkness and fell down the stone steps beyond the front door. The man caught up and threw himself upon her.

In the hall, Matron Braddock had twisted so that she was on top of Sam, who was now lying on his back. Fighting like a man, she did her best to gouge his eyes out.

Sam managed to pull his right fist back and smash it upward. He felt it strike bone, heard a grunt, and was suddenly able to see again. Half crouched in pain, he staggered towards the front door.

Just beyond the stone steps, the man in the white coat was grappling with Clare. Sam jumped to the bottom of the steps, drew his foot back, and kicked. The man grunted and fell sideways on the snow.

“Get to the car!” Sam yelled, thrusting his hand out to help her.

Together, they ran to the already moving Bentley. Sam shoved Clare into the back, then threw himself on top of her. As they sorted themselves out, the Bentley turned out of the main gates and picked up speed.

“Darling Sam!” Clare flung her arms around him.

The secretary of the Lord Willington Nursing Home did not know how to contact someone on a cruise liner in the Caribbean. She telephoned the travel agent who had arranged Dr. Craig-Dunlop’s trip. He advised her to call the cruise liner’s London office.

The agitated deputy matron fluttered around the telephone. She said again, “Tell them it’s urgent!”

The secretary put her hand over the mouthpiece.

“It’s not that easy, Sister Parks. We have to contact the Antigone through some radio station in Somerset the main shore to-ship station. They say it’ll take at least a few hours to reach the doctor.”

“A few hours!” Nurse Parks twittered.

The secretary explained, “The radio station has to request an emergency appointment with the doctor, giving the callback frequency. Once that’s been done, the doctor can speak to you from the ship’s radio room. You’ll just have to wait, Sister Parks.” ward VII HospiIt department of the King Ed ca sua y Matron Braddock sat waiting for treat Her left arm had been put in a sling to relieve the pressure; it was painful and swelling fast; she couldn’t move her fingers. The break was just above the wrist.

IThe matron’s arm throbbed badly, but she decided not to ask for painkillers. She could take more pain than most people, and at the moment, she needed a clear head. As .0be waited for her arm to be X-rayed, Ivy Braddock carefully considered her position and her options.

What did she have to lose? A great deal. Mrs. O’Dare had been removed from the nursing home inl, what was clearly a carefully planned operation. Mr. Shapiro did not seem the sort of man to let the matter jut, especially since she had hit him: Matron Braddock remembered blood streaming from his mouth.

If the police were called in, she might be arrested. She ‘might even stand trial. Whether or not she was convicted of helping to restrain a patient for illegal purposes, after the resultant publicity she would certainly never again be able to get another -good nursing job in Britain.

The only thing that frightened the matron more than the prospect of discussing Mrs. O’Dare with the police was discussing her with Mr. Grant. Matron Braddock had sensed the violence and vengeance that were part of Mr. Grant’s temperament. Of course, he couldn’t get any money back from her, but she was frightened of his retribution, whatever it might be.

The matron considered blackmailing Dr. Craig-Dunlop. She rejected this idea only because the doctor was in a position to counter-blackmail her.

There was really only one thing for Matron Ivy Braddock to do.

Back in, the comforting serenity of Applcbank Cottage, Clare sat beside Sam in front of the fire and stared into the flames. She hadn’t been able to contact Annabel, but Miranda and Buzz had been thrilled to hear the news of Elinor’s rescue. It had been difficult to stop Buzz from travelling over that night to look after her old friend.

Elinor was sleeping in the spare room; Steve, the driver, was staying at the Bath Arms; and Sam who had insisted on sticking around said he’d sleep on the living-room sofa.

Six-year-old Josh, too excited by the arrival of his father to be able to sleep, kept coming down in his pyJamas to ask for a glass of water. Every time he appeared, Clare felt the usual pangs of guilt. Yet again she worried whether Josh would prefer to live alone with a happy mother, or with his father and an unhappy mother.

“Now that the fuss has died down,” Sam said, “what happened to you?” “I didn’t expect to hear that crash I suppose you broke the French window. I panicked and started to run towards the front door. That damned matron tried to stop me. I honestly can’t remember much about it. I’m sorry I know I should have waited for the three toots.” Sam grinned.

“If you’d just looked surprised, she’d have rushed to investigate and then you could have simply walked out of the front door, as planned.”

“Things didn’t happen as planned.”

“No,” Sam said. He paused for a moment before adding, “They almost never do, do they?, Clare thought how strange it was that the animosity between them had dissolved. For nearly four years, she had bitterly resented Sam’s ability to thwart her and been resentful of his power. She remembered Gilda, who had worked with her at the Chelsea shoe shop, saying long ago, “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen out of love with that husband If you had, you’d be indifferent you wouldn’t Aamn about him.” Sam watched the firelight flicker on Clare’s small, 90at features, he thought, This is the moment to give it my st try. Aloud he said softly, “I don’t know how to say this .. I want to say I’m sorry I’ve been such a bastard. I reckoned if I didn’t give you any money, and I didn’t let #6 u have any evidence, and I didn’t let you divorce me, Aen you’d come back to me.”

“That’s the way you train dogs, not wivesl” Clare said tartly.

“Okay” I was wrong. I admit it.”

“Thanks,” Clare replied bitterly. She added, “I’ve never understood why you won’t let me go. What’s the difference between me and your other ex-wives?”

“Josh, for a start.”

“I realize that no other man can replace a father not even a bad one,” Clare said, still bitter.

“But that’s not enough reason to return to you. I have my life to lead. I am not merely Josh’s mother.”

“I never expected you to be able to manage on your own. I really admire you for that … This bakery is a great idea. You could build it into a chain. Even the name’s right.” Clare had called her business ABUNDANCE.

Clare said, “I’ve no intention of building it up into a chain. That’s how a man would see a successful business! I’ve looked into men’s territory and I didn’t like what I saw. I don’t want the worry of a big business. I don’t want that treadmill! I just want to enjoy my little business and do something useful while I earn my living.” She pushed her dark hair out of her eyes and added, “I don’t want the sort of life that Miranda leads. It was relatively easy for me to leave for four weeks in Switzerland but I bet Miranda can’t just drop everything and go skiing.” Sam tried a new tack.

“I never realized how much I enjoyed being with you until you’d gone, Clare. And I miss Josh every single goddamn day.” Persuasively ne continued, “Clare, won’t you let me have one more chance? Remember that Josh is our son, not just yours.” He saw Clare wince and pressed on what was clearly her Achilles” heel.