The year of the virgins (10 page)

A sound that could have been a laugh issued from Daniel and he said, 'Well, Father, you keep it up, and keep him out of my hair, for I've never been able to stand him. And today was the last straw.'

The priest leant towards him now and, his voice low and a grin on his face, he said, 'What annoyed him most was the

black fellow daring to tell him to get out. I like that chap, you know. And what a voice! Lovely to hear. And he's too good-looking for his own good. You know that? He caused a stir yesterday, in a nice way you know, surprisingly; yes, in a nice way. People were enquiring about him. As one old faggot said, he talked like a gentleman. Huh! Women! But what would we do without them? One thing I do know, me confessional box would be empty or near so. Well, I'm away. I don't expect to see you at Benediction tonight. My advice to you is to take two double whiskies hot and go to bed and pray - and it'll have to be hard - that face of yours will look a little different in the morning, because what excuse you're going to give for it I don't know. I'll leave you to think that one up. Goodbye, Daniel.'

'Goodbye, Father.'

He sat down on the couch again. Yes, yes, he'd have to think one up, wouldn't he? But who would he hoodwink? Nobody, not those in the works, or out of it.

PART TWO

Don lay with his eyes fixed on the door, longing for it to open to see one face, dreading for it to open to see another. How long had he been here? Years and years; six years it must be, not just six weeks. But it was just six weeks since the world had exploded.

He lifted one arm slowly from the counterpane and looked at it, then he lifted the other one. He still had his arms, he still had his head, and he could think. He still had his sight and his hearing, and he could talk. He had all these faculties, but of what use were they to him? His body had gone. Well, not quite; but he had to breathe heavily at times to know that he still had lungs. And dear God, he knew that he had a bladder and bowels. Oh, that was shame-making. If only, if only. But he had no legs. Yes, he had. Oh, yes, he had; his legs were there, he could see his toes sticking up. But what use were they? Why didn't they take them off? They had taken so much else from him. Hurry up, Annette. Hurry up. Dear God, don't let Mother come today. I'd like to see Dad and Joe. Yes, Joe was comforting. He had said yesterday he was going

to try and bring Stephen in just to have a peep.

Just to have a peep. That's what people did. They came in and peeped and they were gone again. He wished some of them would stay longer. He wished Annette would stay all day and all night. She did yesterday, at least nearly all day, and the day before. No, not the day before. His mother had sat there - he looked to the side of the bed - and she had stroked him and patted him and whispered to him. That worried him. He was too weak to cope with his mother. They should keep her out. He would talk to his dad about it. Dad understood. So did Joe. And, of course, Annette understood. Oh, yes, yes, Annette understood. He didn't like her people. He had just discovered he didn't like her people. Her father was pompous and in a way her mother was stricken with God as much as his was. That was a funny thought: stricken with God. Odd that he could think amusing things, like a short while ago when of a sudden his mind cleared of the fuzz that would constantly float across it and he thought, I'll get up and get dressed. Yes, he had thought that, I'll get up and get dressed. He would never get up and get dressed again, he knew that. Never.

He closed his eyes tightly; then appealed to God: don't let me cry. Please! Jesus, don't let me cry. Holy Mary Mother of God, don't let me cry.

'Don. Don.'

'Oh! Annette. Oh! darling, I didn't know you were there.'

He moved his hand in hers, his fingers clutching weakly at the softness of it. 'Oh! my love, I've been longing to see you.'

'I've only been gone an hour; I've been down to the surgery. Look they've taken the plaster off my arm. I have to have massage and therapy, but it will soon be all right.'

'Only an hour?' He blinked at her.

'Yes, darling, only an hour.'

'I'm very muddled, Annette; my mind goes round in circles. Sometimes I can think quite clearly then it is as if a mist blots things out.'

'It will pass. You've improved marvellously in the last week. Why, everybody's amazed at the improvement in you.'

'Are they?'

'Yes, yes, darling.'

'Will I ever get home?'

'Of course you will, sweetheart.'

'I mean, to our home?'

'Yes, to our home. It's all ready.'

He turned his gaze from her and looked around the white ward, at the flowers banked up on one table, at the mass of cards arranged on another, and he said, quietly, 'I'll never be able to walk again, Annette.'

'Oh, yes you will. There's ways and means.'

'There's not, Annette. I heard them, Mr Richardson and the others. I heard them. I couldn't make out any words, but I could still hear. He was talking to the students about the operation, the lumbar section. I heard him say, "And what happens when that is smashed?"'

'Darling, listen. Don't dwell on it. You're going to get well, really well. I'm going to see to it. And remember what we've got to look forward to. Remember?'

He turned his head and gazed at her. Then, his face stretching into a smile, he said, 'Oh, yes, yes; I remember. Yes, Annette, I remember.' And his voice changing, he said, 'And you've only got a broken arm? I mean, that's what you said, just bruises and a broken arm?'

'Yes, that's all, darling, bruises and a broken arm.'

'That's wonderful, wonderful.' He turned his head on the pillow again and looked upwards and repeated, 'Wonderful, wonderful. It had to be like that, hadn't it?' And she said tearfully, 'Perhaps, darling, perhaps.'

She bent over him and laid her lips on his, and he put his arms around her and held her. Then she twisted her body so that her head rested on the pillow facing his and softly she said, 'I love you.' And he said, T adore you. Always have, and always will, as long as I live ... as long as I live.'

When the tears dropped from the corner of his eyes she said, 'Oh, my dearest, you are going to live, you are going to get better. Listen . . .' But her words were cut off by the door's opening; and there stood his mother.

For a moment their heads remained stationary: then Annette, twisting herself back into a sitting position, stared back at the woman who was glaring at her now, and she said quietly, 'Hello, Mother-in-law.'

Winifred made no reply, but went round to the other side of the bed and looked down on her son for a moment; then, bending over, she kissed him slowly on the lips before drawing a chair forward and sitting down.

'How are you, my dear?'

'All right, Mother . . . much better.'

'I've brought you an apple tart that Maggie made; your favourite kind.' She motioned to a parcel she had placed on the side-table. 'And I've told them out there' - she nodded towards the door - 'which ice cream you prefer.'

He closed his eyes for a moment, then said, 'Mother, they know what I should eat. They are very kind.'

'Yes, kind, but ignorant half of them. It is hospital food. Although you are now in a private room, it's still hospital food they dish out.' She looked across the bed at Annette,

saying, 'Oh, you have the plaster off then?'

'Yes.' Annette flexed her arm. 'It wasn't such a bad break. I've been lucky.'

'Yes, indeed you were lucky.'

There was silence between them, but when presently beads of perspiration gathered on Don's brow and Annette went to wipe them away with her handkerchief, Winifred rose from the chair, saying, 'That's no good,' and going to the wash basin in the corner of the room, she wetted a face flannel, then returned to the bed and began to sponge her son's face, and all the while he kept his eyes closed. But when she started to wipe a hand, he jerked it away from her, saying, 'Mother! Mother! I've been washed. Please, don't; I've been washed.'

'Don't excite yourself. Lie still.'

Now looking across the bed at Annette, she asked, 'How long are you staying?' And when she was given the answer firmly and briefly, 'All day,' she said, 'Oh.' Then added, 'There's no need for two of us to be here. And I thought you were seeing about the house being put in order.'

'That's already been done. And this is my place.'

They were both startled as Don cried, 'Nurse! Nurse!' at the same time lifting his hand and ringing the bell.

When the door opened immediately and the nurse entered, he said, 'Nurse, I am tired.'

The nurse now looked from the elderly woman to the younger and said, 'Would you, please?' And as they both made slowly for the door, Don's voice checked them, saying, 'Annette. Annette.'

And she, almost running back to the bed, bent over him. 'Yes, dear? Don't worry. I'll be back in a minute or so. Don't worry.'

In the corridor they faced each other. Before Annette had

time to speak Winifred said, 'Two are one too many in the room.'

'Yes, I agree with you. And I have first place, I am his wife. Please remember that.'

'How dare you!'

'I dare, and shall go on daring.' With this Annette walked away towards a door marked 'Sister Bell'. And knocking and being bidden to enter, she went in and put her case to the sister in a few words, ending, 'Who has first right to be with her husband, sister? The mother or the wife?'

'The wife, of course. And don't worry, Mrs Coulson, I understand the position and I'll see Mr Richardson with regard to the visits his mother can make in the future. You've had a very trying time.' She came round the desk and, putting her hand on Annette's shoulder, she said, 'There, there, now. You've been very brave. Don't cry. Leave it to me, I'll deal with her. Is she still in the corridor?'

'She was.'

'Then you stay there until I come back/

A few seconds later Annette heard her mother-in-law's voice finishing on the words she had become accustomed to over the past weeks: 'He is my son. I will see into this.'

There followed a silence, but the sister did not return immediately. When she did, her smile seemed somewhat forced as she said, 'The coast is clear now; you can go in to your husband.'

'Thank you. Thank you very much, sister. By the way, sister' - she paused - 'could you give me any idea when I shall be able to take him home?'

'Oh.' The sister raised her eyebrows before she said, 'I'm afraid that will be some time, some weeks. You see, he's due for another operation later this week; and also, once you

get him home, there'll be continuous nursing for a time. You know that?'

'Yes. Yes, I understand that.'

'But one day at a time. Take it one day at a time. He's progressing much more quickly than we had thought he would, and he always seems better when you're with him.'

Annette could give no answer to this, but she went out and into Don's room again. He was lying with his eyes closed and didn't realise who it was until she took his hand. And then he said, 'Oh, Annette. What . . what am I going to do about her?'

'Don't worry, don't worry; sister's seeing to everything.'

'She upsets me, dear. I can't help it, she upsets me. I dread her coming in now. What am I going to do?'

'You are going to lie quiet and have a little doze. And just think, in a few weeks I'll have you home. I mean to have you home.' She squeezed his hand between both hers. 'That's all I'm living for, to have you home as soon as possible.'

'But how will you manage?'

'Oh' - she laughed down on him - 'if that's all that's worrying you, put it out of your head this moment. How will I manage? I'll have plenty of help. And I could manage you on my own. I'll let you see what I can do.'

'But . . . but for how long, dear?'

She stared at him. Yes, for how long. There were two meanings to that remark, but she didn't know to which one he was alluding. So she evaded it by saying, 'As long as ever it takes. Close your eyes, darling, and go to sleep. You don't want them to throw me out too, do you?'

He made no answer but turned his head to the side and lay gazing at her. And with his hand held between her breasts she gazed back at him.

'Look, my dear.' Daniel put his arm around Annette's shoulder as they walked from the hospital to the car. 'There's nobody wants him to go straight to the cottage more than I do. Believe that, dear. But the only way the doctor's going to let him out is if we can promise him that Don will have adequate nursing. Oh, I know you can get a night and day nurse, but one nurse will not be enough. He's got to be lifted and turned. As you know he's incontinent and always will be. Then, with the damage to his liver and his chest, he hasn't got the strength to pull himself up and down. The only reason Mr Richardson has agreed to letting him leave is because he is getting depressed, mainly because he can't see enough of you. And remember: it isn't that long since they took the plaster off your arm. You couldn't possibly help a nurse with lifting, whereas at home there will always be Joe and me. And we couldn't be on hand if you were in the cottage, you know. So this is what we have thought up. It was really Joe's idea. You know the games-room next to the billiard-room? It's large and airy, with those two long windows looking on to the